Part 3
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She had shown him how to make stew with the some of the various groceries still edible in the fridge. It was hearty and definitely filling on a cold night and Donna had to admit that he had been an excellent pupil.
"God, that was good," he groaned, pushing his bowl away from him and leaning back in his chair.
She had finished moments earlier and was already up washing the dishes. "It was," she agreed. She surveyed the kitchen and decided they had made an excellent meal but also an excellent mess. At least her hands were warm in the dishwater; she couldn't complain too much about that.
"Want some help?" he asked, standing and carrying his bowl to the sink and standing next to her, hip to hip.
"Nope- I'm fine," she said.
He ignored her and picked up the towel and began to dry the dishes.
"Very domestic of you there, Josh," she muttered as she rinsed the last dish.
"We all have hidden talents," he replied with a grin.
She shook the bubbles from her fingers and reached for the towel to dry off her hands. He saw her reach in time and pulled the towel from her reach.
"Come on, Josh." Her whine was belied by her playful grin as she lunged after the towel again.
"'Come on-' what, Donnatella?" he mocked, holding the towel over his head and just barely out of her reach.
She lunged after the towel once before a mischievous gleam hit her eye. Donna took a sultry step towards him, standing toe-to-toe and placing her dripping hands just above the waistband of his jeans. She ran her fingers along his stomach, leaving wet finger-marks on his cotton shirt. "You know, Mr. Lyman," she breathed, "You…," Donna's fingers worked the lowest button on his shirt open. "…are asking for trouble!" and then tugged his shirt tails up and into her hands, grinning mischievously as she dried her hands on his shirt.
"Thanks!" she said, turning around and leaving him breathing quickly in the middle of the kitchen.
"Hey!" He called as soon as he was able to formulate a coherent thought.
"Yeah?" she called back, heading through the living room and up the stairs.
"Donna!?" He whined, following after her with his disappointed puppy face firmly in place.
"Yeah?"
"You just ruined my plan!" he called, following her up the stairs and down the hall, barley able to see where she was headed as she rounded the corner into a room.
"You had a plan?"
"I did."
She looked over her shoulder at him as he made it to her room and leaned against the doorjamb. She rooted through her suitcase, pulling out a pair of flannel pajama pants. "What plan was that? The Secret Plan to Withhold Dishtowels?" She sat on the edge of her bed and tugged off her slightly damp socks.
The twilight reflecting off of the snow snuck through the opening in the curtains and provided a warm glow to the room. "I had a plan, you know," he muttered, looking around the room as he spoke. "This was your room?" he pushed away from the doorjamb and shuffled his sock-clad feet towards her bookcase.
"Yeah."
"Wisconsin Spelling Bee Championship?" he asked with a questioning brow, pointing to a small plaque and photo of a young towheaded child with long braids and a plaid dress.
"I can spell." She stood and unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them down over her hips and noting, out of one eye, how oblivious he was to her current state of undress. He was engrossed in her childhood memorabilia.
"Apparently," he replied, moving down the shelf and pausing at a slew of blue ribbons. "You rode horses?"
"I did."
"And you lived?"
"Apparently," she replied, mocking him as she pulled on her flannel pajama pants.
"You were good," he said, fingering the ribbons and turning around.
"I was damned good," she agreed.
"Donna?" he stopped, frowning, and glancing at her pants. "You weren't wearing that before."
"That's right."
"You just changed."
"That's right."
"You're a very observant man, Josh Lyman," she reached for the bottom hem of her sweater and stopped as he began opening and closing his mouth like a fish.
"You were…like…undressed while I was in here!"
"Uh huh!" she nodded and looked at him like he was an idiot.
"Donna!" he groaned, running his hand through his hair and turning on his heel nervously to pace the length of the room.
"Yeah?" She chuckled and tugged the sweater over her head and reached for the Harvard sweatshirt resting on top of her suitcase.
"You can't be, you know, naked, while I'm in the room!" He turned around again, finding her only in her bra with her hands half way into the arms of the sweatshirt. "AH!" he muffled a cry as he spun around and held his head in his hands.
"Josh, just so you know, women don't usually like pained screaming as a reaction when they're seen in a bra. If that's how you handled Amy and Mandy, that could be why those relationships didn't last," she walked up behind him as she spoke.
"Donna," he whined. He could hear her growing closer as she spoke and he flinched when he felt her breath tickle the side of his neck.
"Hmm," she said, her arms through the sweatshirt, but it still not over her torso.
"Please tell me you have clothes on."
"Pants and a bra," she replied softly, her voice tinged with amusement as she watched his reaction. "I hope you've seen women in pants and a bra, before, Josh. It really shouldn't be this traumatic for a man of your age."
"My age?!" he asked, turning around before he could stop himself. "Wow," he sighed.
She smiled and pulled the sweatshirt over her head. "Well, wow is a little better than a pained scream. You're getting the hang of this."
"Donna?" he asked, reaching out and running his fingers along the hem of the sweatshirt.
"Yeah?"
"One: this is my sweatshirt you're wearing. And two: you're ruining my plan again," he said softly.
"The Secret Plan to Withhold Dishtowels?"
"No, the plan to woo you."
"Oh," she said softly, nodding slightly. "How am I ruining that?"
"You're making me want to skip the woo and go straight to the necking."
"Oh yeah?"
He nodded, his hand moving up to toy with a strand of hair that had escaped her pony-tail.
"That'd be a horrible thing, wouldn't it?" she asked, her voice heavy with sarcasm.
"It might." He leaned in and rested his forehead against hers. "I don't want to rush this," he said after a moment.
"That's new for you," she said.
"That's just mean, Donnatella," he grumbled, closing his eyes and enjoying their closeness.
"No, Joshua, it's the truth. You've rushed every other… thing you've tried," gesturing between the two of them as she referred to their closeness as a 'thing.'
"Yeah," he agreed. "But they weren't you," he whispered, brushing his lips hesitantly across hers.
She pulled back and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Aww. See, now you're bringing the woo," she chuckled, leaning in and returning his gentle kiss with several more of her own.
******
