Author's note: This is a longer chapter and I hope a good continuation. I wanted to flashback to a few scenes that I felt were missing from Transition (though I obviously put my own spin on them!)...a bit more angst in this one, some resolution on issues, and yes...the L word might make an appearance ;)

Thanks to all submitting feedback...please keep on doing so, it gives me the courage to keep posting...and shortly I'll need some reader input :)

Disclaimer - oops, not put any in until now, but if you think I own these lovely people, you're even more deluded than me :)

Chapter 3

How they managed to get out of the shower without breaking it, or themselves, she'd never know. But she did know she was hungry, really hungry.

While Josh was still pottering about in the bathroom, she took off the hotel robe and slipped on a long light blue cotton dress. She put on a pair of flat sandals and went to the balcony to wait for him. Running her fingers through her damp hair, she pulled it back into a loose ponytail. Donna knew her hair would dry curly, she actually quite liked her hair with its natural wave, but it had always seemed too messy for work. Back when she worked in the West Wing she had been trying so hard to portray the ultra professional, using her appearance to mask how often she felt out of her depth. These days she was one of the crowd for her skills and knowledge, rather than who she worked for. She was happy to relax and bringing a bit more of natural self to the foreground.

Will had once asked her how she managed to look so flawless at 5am after having had two hours sleep. She'd changed the subject, unsure as to whether Will had been hitting on her which, while flattering, had always made her vaguely uncomfortable.

She couldn't be too relaxed though, she still had to be immaculately turned out. It was all part of her disguise, hopefully drawing attention away from how, sometimes, she still felt completely overwhelmed by the rapid turns of her life. But then, she reasoned, everyone did that to some extent.

She supposed she could be counted as a veteran of campaigns now, having been through three, even though for most of this last one she had been working without a net, without him. But she'd survived and thrived and this thing between them was all happening because of her choice to leave the White House.

It upset her that things had become so awkward whenever they met on the trail – but it was the night of the Republican Convention that she realised their friendship had slipped further than she'd thought.

She had been teasing Josh about Will being the one to teach her politics, but the attempt backfired. He was yelling at a TV in the middle of a public bar and automatically she found herself becoming his burden sharer again. It seemed natural to banter with him about the Ticket, and he had truly seemed to respect her view, which pleased her enormously.

But the look of confusion and hurt she saw on his face, as she glanced over her shoulder, shook her.

She hadn't thought he would take the comment to heart, and it burned that she hadn't been able to predict his reaction. On one hand, she thought he needed to hear that she was learning from someone other than him. She was actually teaching a few people a few things and was no longer tied to his apron strings. Will had, in a heartbeat, given her the opportunity she'd been asking Josh for years.

But she truly hadn't meant to hurt him, with her comment, or actions. Maybe it was for her own benefit that she'd said it, fighting the natural instinct to protect him from himself, trying to distance herself from him because she found herself missing him.

Between the eighteen-hour days, congressional hearings, shootings, censure, filibusters, explosions, jealousy, spoiled dates, and apparent indifference, he had remained her best friend and she missed him desperately.

He had committed a federal crime to cover for her, he flew half way around the world to be at her bedside, and he had let her stay on the Santos campaign when he had sound political reasons to overrule Lou's decision to hire her.

That night, she had cried herself to sleep.

She wasn't back to being the wide eyed naïve girl from Wisconsin - she was going to be Chief of Staff to the First Lady, but she found herself once again in awe of him. And she was happy about it, no longer seeing it as a weakness, but as a manifestation of her feelings for him. There was no overstating it, he was incredibly important on the world stage, but now so was she. They were going to be partners in so many ways.

She looked over her shoulder at him as he came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped round his waist and sighed, glad when he didn't notice her wistful gaze. She turned back to face the setting sun and listened to him move as he busied himself about the apartment, unpacking and getting dressed. A few minutes later he wandered out to the balcony and pressed his lips against her bare shoulder. She leaned back against him as he wrapped his arms round her waist, raising her arm behind his head, and running her fingers through his damp hair.

"Ready for some dinner?" He asked softly, nuzzling her neck, pressing his lips to her skin.

"Sure." She whispered back, shivering as he ran his fingers up and down her

arm before finally threading his fingers together with hers. He raised her hand above her head and spun her around slowly to face him, as if to dance. She arched against him, placing a gentle kiss against his lips, chaste and demure in stark contrast to the earlier fervour.

"Let's go," he said, reluctantly breaking away and tilting his head towards the door.

She ran her hand across his shoulders and followed him through the apartment, pausing briefly to grab her shoulder bag and automatically holding her hand out for his proffered wallet. Maybe old habits always die hard, she thought as they left the room hand in hand.

…………………………………………

Josh didn't want to risk anything by saying it out loud, but he felt like he was calming down, having noticed that he didn't have the throbbing headache that had been his almost constant companion of late. Here he was walking into a beach-side restaurant, on a Caribbean Isle, with no sense of urgency, no sign of fifty people clamouring for his immediate attention, no one to think about other than himself and this beautiful woman on his arm. Nothing could be more alien to him, but nothing had ever felt so right.

Was it only twenty-four hours ago that he had nearly taken Otto out, and himself in the process? He had a lot to thank Sam for, and he promised he would make sure Sam knew that.

He had at least four more years in the White House ahead of him; they'd just got through one marathon and were heading straight for another one. Nothing in the pending madness was certain, but as the waiter pulled Donna's chair out and she smiled, he realised something irreversible had happened in the past day.

A day ago, he had his future shown to him and he hated what it looked like. Dedicated to the cause or not, he didn't want to be alone anymore. His insides twisted horribly at how close he had come to losing her because of his masochistic streak.

He made a silent promise - before this evening was over, he was going to tell her just how permanent he saw them being.

He was getting geared up to define them, finally realising it was up to him. Funny how just watching her smile could bring revelation.

It unnerved him that he couldn't feel the normal shifting of gears he usually felt when he identified a goal and how to achieve it. He was going to have to wing it and instigate The Talk; he knew it was time for him to quit being a jackass about everything and just tell her. What the hell had happened today that hadn't happened yesterday?

…………………………………………..

36 hours before

"Make the call."

Standing there, alone in his own office, Sam's words rang in Josh's' ears. He was shaking, actually more like shuddering and the sound of his blood coursing around his body was deafening. He forced himself to unclench his fists, take deep breaths, and sit.

He tried to focus on his blackberry and found his vision swimming. He rubbed his temples hard with his thumbs, screwed his eyes shut, and finally blew out a long sigh. He raised his head, wincing against the sudden movement, not to mention the light streaming through the window, and it struck him how much like shit he felt.

"Make the call."

Clarity was something that didn't happen often to most people. While he was

used to being thoroughly convicted about ethics, politics – to the extent that he could influence the course of history, he wasn't used to clarity. In his experience, his personal life was never free of doubt. Until now.

There was only one person he wanted to speak to right now.

……….

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Hey."

"Where are you?"

"I'm with Mrs. Santos. I took the job. We're just…"

"Stay there, don't leave."

"Ok?"

Click.

………….

Donna's head was bent over a file on her lap, her blonde hair gleaming in the watery November sunshine. His hand was poised to knock on the wooden doorframe, but he became still when he saw her face screwed up in concentration. She had her legs crossed and tapped one foot in a silent rhythm as she concentrated on the document before her, making furious notes as if her mind was working faster than she could write.

He was so proud of her, but finally not in an "I did that" way. He realised that he had always been a bystander in the rise of Donnatella Moss. He remembered how she yelled to his face when Lou had shoved them in a room together. He'd been angry then, but was later dumbstruck that she was back and still not taking his shit. How the hell he'd got that far through the campaign without her was a mystery. She strode back into his life and turned him the right way up seemingly without trying.

No, he was proud in a "she's amazing and I'm glad she figured it out and did it herself" way.

And now watching her, he felt intimidated, and he had no idea what to say to this confident, beautiful, dynamic woman who was also happened to be his best friend. And lover. He made his money talking, why was he finding it so hard to open his mouth and speak words in some sort of order?

"Josh, are you coming in or what?"

He took a sharp intake of breath at the jolt of longing that ran through him; she could feel his presence even though there way no way for her to have seen him. It was enough to convict him as he walked purposefully across the room.

She stood to meet him, dropping the file behind her on the chair and boldly meeting his gaze. Not stopping to say or ask anything, he just grabbed the back of her head and crushed his lips against hers. She moaned quietly against his lips and opened her mouth to him.His hands cupped her face, hers gripping his arms as their kiss became more urgent.

"Donna? I'd like to get your opinion on….oh….God, sorry…." stammered Helen Santos as she entered from an adjoining office.

They immediately jumped apart, Donna smoothing down the front of her jacket in a self-conscious gesture. Josh automatically snapped to attention acknowledging Mrs. Santos' presence, who for her part was apologising profusely and hurrying out of the room

"Wait, Mrs. Santos?"

She stopped, turned slowly on the spot and walked back in, her blush fading to be replaced by a sly grin.

"Yes, Josh?"

"Ahh, umm, I was wondering if there was any way, you could, err, part with Donna."

Donna turned her head sharply towards him, and he looked at her seeing confusion and, if he wasn't mistaken, indignation. Oops, wrong choice of words. "Sorry, I mean lend me Donna?"

Not any better.

He knew what she would be thinking, but there was no way he wanted to poach her for his staff. She'd made it perfectly clear she couldn't, wouldn't work for him again under any circumstance. When he'd spent more than fifteen seconds thinking about it, he had realised how impractical and unfair it would have been to have her work for him again. Not to mention she didn't want to. He reached out and rubbed her arm, with what he hoped was a reassuring look.

"I was hoping to persuade her to take a break with me. Ahh, well you see I've been pretty much ordered to take a vacation." He stammered with a little hesitation.

He saw Donna's expression change out of the corner of his eye. It went from incredulity, through relief, finally settling on a brilliant grin that lit the room. He took that as a good sign. "I was desperately hoping she'd keep me company and make sure I come back in one piece. If that's ok?" he said echoing his earlier question to her husband.

Helen's eyes went from Donna to Josh and back again, realisation spreading across her face. She wasn't blind, she'd seen them together and knew some of their history, bits and pieces she'd gleaned from staffers. But she'd also seen the looks on Donna's face throughout this conversation and had a fair idea of how significant this was. She wasn't really sure if Josh's last question had been for her or Donna, but she knew without doubt what the answer would be from both of them.

"Sure Josh, that's a remarkable idea. I take it that was an order from my husband, so who am I to object. Donna, see you in…"

" A week," Josh answered.

"A week it is. Have a great time!" And knowing when her presence was no longer required, she made deliberate eye contact with Donna and walked back into the office, closing the double doors behind her.

Josh turned to Donna, eyebrows raised mentally steeling himself for whatever came next.

"So," Donna whispered, "What do I need to pack?"

His shoulders sagged in relief and he slipped his arms around her waist, dropping his head onto her shoulder. She gently slid arms around his neck and embraced him.

"I'm so tired, Donna. I'm tired of being tired, tired of being me, and tired of being without you. Come on vacation with me."

She pulled her head back and he saw tears in her eyes. Raising her hand she cupped his cheek and he twined his fingers with hers and he turned his head placing a soft kiss to the palm of her handand as he twined his fingers with hers

That's not a great rephrasing, sorry about that, but it needs to be rephrased somehow.

"Let's get out of here before they change their minds." And he tugged her towards the door. (How about, '…minds," he said as he tugged her toward the door'?)

…………………………………….

Present day.

They conversed easily over dinner, sharing a bottle of wine and she had even let him have a bite of her chocolate dessert. They tried hard, and almost managed, to keep the conversation away from workand they almost managed. There was gossiping and laughing about campaign mishaps and she'd told him stories about the Russell campaign that he wouldn't have believed from anyone else.

He watched her as she reminisced, laughed and relaxed in her chair, her hands resting gently on her stomach, as content as he'd ever seen her. It was infectious. They were reconnecting and without the professional wall between them the ease of their friendship came to the forefront

He suggested coffee but she shook her head and indicated the beach. Paying for the meal, he paused to ask the waiter for a favour. He walked back to the table and held up the second bottle of wine and two plastic glasses. She grabbed her purse and they walked together out of the restaurant and onto the sand.

…………………..

She was laughing again, carrying her sandals in one hand and holding his elbow with the other and she was laughing!

"Can you imagine CJ's face when I tell her that I strolled arm in arm with Josh Lyman along a Caribbean beach by moonlight?"

"She'll never believe it. And hey, no gossiping with CJ. I have a …you know….reputation to protect."

She laughed even louder. "Ok sweetheart."

He stopped dead, his stomach having rushed into his mouth and back down again.

"What?" She asked timidly, though judging by her sly grin she knew exactly why he'd stopped. He wasn't about to give her the satisfaction

so just kissed her quickly and firmly and swung back around. He tried to act nonchalant until she actually giggled so he rolled his eyes at her.

They wandered well out of town to be assured of being alone, and far enough away from the buildings to be able to see the stars clearly again.They passed their hotel and when he thought they'd walked far enough he stopped, gesturing at a spot on the sand to sit. They settled down next to each other, Donna tucking her skirt under her legs. There was no reason to think she'd be cold but he looked at her just to make sure.

"So," she said, accepting a glass of wine he poured for her, "you trying to get me drunk, Joshua?"

He shook his head at her use of his full name. It had always felt different when she did that; she was usually admonishing him for something or, longer ago, when she was caring for him.

"A toast?" He said, lifting his glass. She raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed dramatically. "Donna, you know how completely useless I am at all things romantic, throw me a bone here."

"I'm sorry, you're right, you are useless at romance," she conceded his point.

He stared at her and she at least had the decency to duck her head and be slightly embarrassed at her taunting.

"Ahem." He cleared his throat dramatically and raised his glass. "To you and me."

She looked up at him, her eyes betraying a little surprise at the simplicity of his toast, but smiled and touched her glass to his.

"To you and me." They took sips of their wine and she leaned over and pressed her lips gently against his.

……………………………..

"Donna," he whispered against her mouth. "There is so much I want to say to you but I am going to mess this up so I'd appreciate it if you just let me talk for a while, forget everything I say that comes out wrong, pretend I am saying the right thing when I'm not and then when I'm done, just kill me. Ok?"

She nodded simply, not allowing his self-deprecation detract from the fact he was opening up to her. He shifted out of her reach, feeling this would go better if he wasn't distracted by her warmth. He drew a long deep breath to steady his last few nerves and began.

"I've been aware for a long time that I've been out of control. Of course I chose to ignore that and fix bigger problems, like the country. I've been running on adrenalin for so long I'm not so sure my body is capable of making anymore.

"I'm a mess. I haven't grieved for Leo, barely ever grieved for my father, and I need to desperately. I've been trying to fix everything except me, building walls around myself. Now I have an ounce of clarity and can look at myself from the outside, I can see I have been in self-destruct mode. Again."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, not sure at all what he was saying was coming out right. This was too negative, he wanted this to be about her, not him, but needed her to know he was aware of the problems they faced. He took another sip of wine and continued.

"It took your ultimatum and Sam's righteous anger to wake me up. I am blessed, so richly to have the friends I do and once again Donna, it was those friends that pulled me back from the brink.

He paused again, finding this so very hard. She reached out and touched the fringe of his hair and he looked up into her eyes and the support he saw in her eyes gave him courage to continue with the hardest things he needed to say.

"It doesn't excuse my behaviour but when you got hurt…when you nearly died, everything about my pain came back. When you needed help, I found myself lacking. I couldn't be there for you like you'd been there for me and I was disgusted with myself. So when you came back to work it was like I could see the future. One way or another you were going to leave me so I just buried my head so it would happen quicker. And I am so sorry for the hurt I caused you then.

"You've worked for me and with me for nearly a decade, and for some inexplicable reason that hasn't led to you hating my guts. And if there weren't a million other reasons, that one would still mean you're the most incredible thing in my life."

He took her hand in his, and squeezed it. She closed her hand over his and rubbed the back of his knuckle gently.

"I'm so proud of you for who you are, who you always were, what you've become and what you're going to do. I hate myself for every time I made you feel like you were worth less than you are. And I know I did that a lot. And I am sorry."

She suddenly let go of his hand and cupped his cheek, smoothing her thumb across his dimple, letting him know she accepted his apology, but silently acknowledging she knew he wasn't finished yet. Her caress offered him acceptance and urged him on again.

"I'm going to regain control in my life and I will succeed because I want to be healthy, I want to be strong and I want to do my job well. I can't be the man I was as Deputy to be Chief of Staff. I have to be better; I have to do more for the President-Elect, for the country, for President Bartlett, for Leo, for my father, and for you.

"I don't ever want to use you again Donna, but I am going to need you so much. I apologise in advance of every stupid thing I am ever going to do.

"The other night at my place when you said I don't know what this is between us you were right. I didn't. But I do now. I want this, you and me, to happen." He smiled broadly, relief flooding his body as he finally acknowledged the feelings he had been suppressing for years.

"I haven't found a secret that will make me good at relationships. I don't know how to make you happy, but I want to try. But I hope you'll let me try to make you happy for a very long time."

He blew out a breath, happy that he'd managed to get it all out, reaching out his hand to brush away at tears that slipped silently down her cheeks. As she leaned over to reciprocate, he finally noticed that he was crying too.

……………………………………

"Josh," she began steadily, despite the emotion coursing through her. "None of us have any real control in our lives. Not you, certainly not me. You hold yourself to such a high standard and I understand why you do that, but the standard is only going to increase so know that I already think you are the best of men."

He dropped his head and his shoulders sagged in relief at her words. Tears still spilled down his cheeks and her heart ached for him.

"You blame yourself for things you have no control over because you are grieving even if you don't understand that yet. It seems to me you have always been and we need to recognise that and get through it. You and me, we'll work it out.

Now it was her turn to draw deep steadying breaths. There was so much to say and it was overwhelming, even more so in the light of his declarations. She'd been waiting for those words for years and the weight of responsibility in how she replied now was immense. She had to get this right, one step wrong and she could upset this delicate balance.

"The day I quit was one of the worst of my life. I can't apologise for leaving because it was the right thing to do. But that doesn't stop me being sorry for the way I did it. I was upset and angry and confused and I was directing my grief at you and that was unfair. And for that I am truly, eternally sorry.

"You've been simultaneously a facilitator, encourager, and my best friend, while being an obstacle, burden and distraction." She smoothed the back of her fingers across his cheek to soften the blow of her words. "But I let you be all those things, I let myself get walked over by many people, not just by you and the only person I blame for that is myself. I'm not that person anymore.

"We have hurt each other but that's par for the course with best friends. And you are my best friend. But know this – I'm scared too, of lots of things. If I think too much of the leap I am about to take in my career, I start to shake. I know you feel you were meant to be doing this with Leo, but you absolutely can do this, I believe in you. You've been through so much and you're still here on the other side, we both are, and that's because we've got so much left to accomplish – important things, Josh."

"So listen, I know things were bad between us for a long time but I've missed you so very much. This could never have happened between us before now, we weren't ready but we are now, both of us.

"I don't need to decide to let you make me happy because you already do. Keep on making me happy, Josh, and I'll do everything in my power to do the same for you."

…………………………………………

They gazed steadily at each other; wet faces shining in the starlight until he reached out, pulled her onto his lap, and wrapped himself round her. Burying his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, he sighed raggedly. She slipped her fingers into the collar of his shirt and pulled his face, feeling his rhythmic, warm breath on her neck. She laced one hand into his hair, quietly, tenderly, stroking the back of his neck.

They soothed each other with caresses, kisses, and a tight embrace on the sand. And then he finally crossed that last line. He cupped her face in his hands and touched his forehead to hers.

"I love you Donnatella."

"I love you Joshua."

……………………………….

"Can I take you inside and make love to you now?" He whispered, kissing her face, tasting the salt of her tears.

The depth of his emotion made her feel like this was going to be their first time together. Not able to find words, she nodded against his neck.

He cocked his head to one side, dimples out in full force. "I'd sweep you up and carry you there, but I don't think we'd make it."

She recognised an attempt to lighten the situation. He'd said it first, those little words that she wasn't sure he'd ever said to anyone else.

"Tell me again, Josh."

"I love you."

She couldn't help the wide smile.

So she stood up, unsteadily but relieved they were still joking. He quickly gathered up the wine and glasses from the sand and grasped her waist with his other hand, back to demonstrating that it was entirely possible his life depended on maintaining contact with her.

"I hate being picked up anyway." She said nonchalantly as they started walking towards the hotel.

"You do?" he sounded surprised.

"Yes. Always hated it. I'm too tall, it makes me feel unfeminine, and I always think whoever is doing the picking is going to get hurt!"

"Really?" He sounded as if he had never considered that. "You know, it is one hundred percent impossible for you to be considered unfeminine? You are exquisite, Donna."

"You already got me, Josh. No need to over-do it."

………………………….

He opened the door and let her go into the room first, lit only by moonlight streaming through slits in the lowered blinds. He shut and locked the door and placed the wine and glasses down on the bedside table, then turned and looked at her. They both stood still and quiet, just looking at each other through the darkness.

Then suddenly, as if someone had whispered "go" simultaneously in their ears, they stepped forward and grabbed on to each other, kissing fiercely. His hands tangled in her hair and she gripped his upper arms, his shoulders, his neck. They opened their mouths to each other and their tongues met and swirled, teeth biting lips and moans dissipating into the night.

He lowered his mouth and ran his teeth and lips up her neck. She threw her head back, pressing her chest up into his, leaning back into his hands that supported her shoulders.

"Josh," she moaned. It sounded like the first time she ever said his name. Their love was out there now, they were giving in to the thing they had feared and fought for over a decade. It had been declared and it was pure and it was about to be passionately consummated.

He pulled the strap of her dress down over one shoulder, following the path of it with his lips. She took her hands from where they were tangled in his hair and gripped his shoulders, pressing the full length of her body against his. He located a tie at the side of her dress, undid it, and seconds later the dress was pooled at her feet.

…………………………………..

His knees buckled at the sight of her, bathed in moonlight and glorious and he gave in, dropping to his knees on the floor in front of her.

Her luminescent skin was beautifully smooth, the same as the silk of her underwear, she had an aroma like lavender and the scent that was just her. It had been tantalising him for years without ever letting itself be defined. He laid his cheek against her belly and she tangled her hands in his hair holding him close. He just listened for a moment, to her breathing, to her heart beating. He'd never come close to this feeling before and his heart swelled for the woman in his arms who he had held at a distance for so long, whom he had almost lost and he thanked whoever he could for letting this finally be.

………….

She thought she might cry as her fell to his knees before her. She held his head close and thanked whoever was listening for the second, third and more chances that had brought them to this point.

She rejoiced as his tongue trailing lazily across her belly. She yearned to feel his weight, his masculine body against hers. Part of her felt almost powerful, standing while he tasted her skin, another part felt bereft because he wasn't in her arms. He was trying to prove, without words, that he saw her as an equal, in life and in love.

As breathtaking as it felt, she wanted to be down there with him, past caring if they made love on the hardwood floor. But he was holding her where she was, not letting her get down on her knees and join him.

Her focus shifted as he started to slide her panties down her legs and she whimpered as his teeth and tongue followed them down. He kissed her thighs, knees, calves, ankles and toes then began to repeat his movements in reverse. His hands followed, massaging and stroking her legs as he worshipped her from the ground up. Pushing her legs slightly apart, he replaced his supporting hands on her buttocks and dipped his tongue to her.

It was as if everything else in the world had been blotted out, and all she could do was feel him nuzzle and lick and tease her. He slipped one hand between her legs and dragged his fingertips lazily across her moist folds and grazed her clit with his teeth. He rubbed her, teasing her again and again and she felt the onset of an orgasm that wasn't going to wait to arrive. Nothing had felt like this before.

She managed to focus her eyes enough to look down and see his beautiful soft curls, where her hands rested on his head, not holding him, but just feeling where he was, making sure it was all real. She started to pant and his name escaped her lips over and over. She was there, so near. Nothing, nothing, nothing had felt like this before.

"Josh," she nearly shouted now. He drew his head back and looked up, locking eyes with her as he slid his fingers inside and pushed up towards her abdomen, his thumb pressing firmly where it needed to.

And the waves overtook her.

……………..

He supported her with one hand, while the other pressed into her. As the pulses subsided, he withdrew his hand and stood to help her lower herself on the bed as her knees finally gave way. He crawled up beside her, propped himself up on an elbow and leaned down to kiss her cheek, running a hand across her belly. She lifted her head and caught his lips with hers.

"Looks like I finally did something right," he whispered, grinning widely. She grinned back and ran a thumb across his dimple, bringing him in for another kiss.

……………………………….

"You've got too many clothes on." She finally whispered, releasing his face and pushing him onto his back. She knelt up and straddled his waist, for the moment choosing to ignore his evident arousal. She lowered her fingers to the buttons on his shirt then changed her mind, bringing them to the front clasp on her bra. She undid it and pushed the material off her shoulders letting it drop to the floor behind them.

She batted his hands away from where they had been reaching to her breasts and let him rest them on her thighs instead. She lowered herself over him, drawing a moan. She undid the buttons on his short-sleeved shirt slowly, her lips kissing the skin on his chest as it appeared. She unhooked the final button and he pushed himself up so she could slide it down over his broad shoulders. He lay back on the bed, shirt discarded and staring at her with deep brown eyes she could drown in. Tearing her gaze away, her hands and eyes wandered over his chest until they inevitably came to rest on his scar. Her eyes flicked to his as she realised his hand had found their way to her scars on her leg.

They looked at each other without sadness. They had both nearly lost each other so many times; to other lovers, jobs, disagreements and politics. But these scars indicated something more fundamental, death had threatened them both and they shared that, something few people understood. She watched as he took his hand from her leg and moved it to her side where another scar was fading. He kissed his fingertips and pressed them back against the white lines. She inhaled sharply at the gesture.

"I love you, Josh."

He smiled simply at her and whispered back, "I love you, too."

She leaned down again and kissed his bare chest, just over his scar. She felt him gently caress the back of her head, and she imagined perhaps this was cleansing and healing him more than any therapy ever had.

But now she started her possession of him again, letting him know in no uncertain terms that he belonged to her and her to him. Her nails started to gently drag across the skin of his chest and she nibbled at the sensitive skin around his nipples. She ran her hands across his flat muscular stomach and up the smooth skin on his flanks and she felt him again fight the urge to buck up into her.

Lowering her hands to his waist, she started to undo the tie on his shorts. She slid back down the bed dragging the material down with her, over his erection and onto the floor to join the rest of the crumpled clothes. She looked up at him; they were barely touching and he raised himself up, looking down at her. She got on all fours over his legs and laid herself down, dragging the entire length of her body up and over him, revelling in his groan, resulting from the combined pleasure of feeling her pressed into him and the pressure on his hardness. The friction created as her breasts dragged across his smooth chest was delicious.

…………………….

His hands were gripping the bed sheets determined not to touch her, reasoning that if he did he could only be disappointed because he couldn't touch all of her at once. But then he needed to touch her so much, to make sure this was all still real, that the taste of her on his lips was true and that he finally had everything he could possibly want and more.

And then her lips met his and she sighed into his mouth.

"Make love to me, Joshua."

His eyelids fluttered at the sound of the need in her voice. Now they had said they loved each other once, it seemed she couldn't stop saying it and listening to her declarations, he found he couldn't lie still. He gripped her under the arms, gently and steadily rolling her over onto her back. She gasped loudly as he pressed her back into the bed with the force of his kisses across her breasts. He gathered her up with his hands, smoothing, caressing, kneading while kissing her, biting, grazing, licking

"Be inside me, Josh, please." She begged, her hands roaming everywhere she could touch, mirroring his actions, neither able to get enough of the other without being inside of each other.

"God, Donna," he moaned, raising himself up over her and kissing her again as he sank as deep as possible into her. They became joined in the most intimate way possible and lay still.

"I love you, Josh. Love me."

He stared into her beautiful eyes and began to move.

He pressed himself into her over and over, filling her completely, deep strokes turning them both inside out. Her hands rubbed hard on his back, pushing him up and down into her. Their rhythm was primal and they moaned into each other as he moved, her hips meeting and matching his. They rocked together, he ground as deep into her as he could get and she tightened around him again and again and soon they were both nearing the edge. Blue eyes met brown and they came together both calling each other's name.

………………………………..

He didn't trust himself to speak as they clung on to each other in the dark, hot room. He felt that if he relaxed his hold on her, this whole place might twist and shake and disappear beneath him, the fragile hold he had on life spreading out enclosing him even now. Whatever glue it was holding him together was stretched to breaking point.

"Josh. It's ok." She whispered to his cheek. And then he cried.

……………………………..

She knew, as his sobs abated, that their healing had begun. She had wept silently along with him, wrapping her body tightly round his, soothing his ache with her hands on his back and her lips on his brow.

"I've got you, too, Donna," he whispered, letting her know that he knew she was grieving with him.

She hiccoughed with tears and they curled themselves closer to each other and let the night take them.

………………………………….

TBC...

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