CHAPTER 11

~Donna's POV~

I wake up Sunday morning pleasantly sore in all the right places. All couldn't be more right in the world. I'm lying naked in a luxurious bed with an equally disrobed Joshua Lyman spooned up behind me. And judging by something poking me in the back, last night's activities have done nothing to drain his libido. He's been full of surprises these last few days and tonight, after the pool party, I have a little surprise for him. I smile evilly to myself before looking over at the alarm clock. It's 9am. I can't remember the last time I slept in this late. Not that 9am is really all that late, but let's just say when working for the President of the United States, the luxury of sleeping past 6am is no longer on the table.

I feel Josh stir behind me, apparently awoken by my fidgeting. He kisses my shoulder and yawns deeply. "Mmmm, good morning beautiful," he greats in what I'm learning is his husky, morning-after-awesome-sex, wake up voice. It's a voice I could definitely get used to hearing every day. I shouldn't be thinking like that. Everything's going well right now. No need to rush in to those thoughts already.

I smile and turn around in his arms to face him. I can't stop my hand from moving up to trace the contours of his face. "Good morning, handsome," I giggle at his smug grin. He leans in to kiss me, but I hold a hand up to stop him. "Josh, morning breath," I tell him before he thinks I'm dismissing his advances in malice.

"I don't mind if you don't," he challenges. I drop my hand and allow his lips to meet mine. The kiss is sweet and lazy… we spend a few minutes just enjoying discovering each other's mouths once more. Hands begin exploring and not soon enough, we're making love again. This time, it's slow, lazy, and passionate, just like the kiss that initiated it. It just feels so natural with Josh, like it's exactly what we're supposed to be doing. I have no earthly clue why it took us so long to get here, but I know there's no going back. Making love with Josh is like a drug I can't seem to get enough of. I think I actually may understand how people could get addicted to sex if it were like this every time. And so far, Josh hasn't disappointed.

Finally, Josh collapses against me and my gelatinous muscles are only able to trace slow circles along his spine as I struggle to catch my breath. Once Josh's own breath evens out, he tries to shift off of me, but I slide my hand over his ass, not ready to relinquish his body from mine. He chuckles in to the crook of my neck.

"Donna, if I had it my way, I'd never leave your body, but we should probably think about getting ready for the Pool Party," he mumbles.

"Mmmm, plenty of time Joshua. Just five more minutes. I'm too cozy right now," I whine gently.

"Okkkaayyy," he mocks indignation. "But just five more minutes."

I smile and kiss the top of his head, continuing to run my hand up and down his muscular back. He shifts slightly, so he can look me in the eye. His face is a mask of seriousness, but he doesn't seem upset. "What is it?" I inquire, trying to mask the concern in my voice.

"Donna, I don't ever want to wake up without you," he says with gravity.

"Josh, I call you every morning to wake you up, so you pretty much do that now. And I'm guessing we'll be spending more nights together as well, so I'll even be there for some in-person appearances," I tell him, using a bit of humor to try and break the sober look on his face.

"No, Donna, I mean I really don't ever want to wake up without you ever again. I don't want to go to sleep without you in my arms. I don't wake up without the warmth of your body against mine." He pauses and I can see the wheels turning, like he's trying to find the answer to a puzzle. Then his face softens and his eyes sparkle. "Donna, when we get back to D.C., would you move in with me?" he asks, his eyes filled with hope.

"Wait, Josh, I mean…" confusion over this line of conversation - and so soon after I was just thinking about it - overwhelming me.

"I know, it's fast," he cuts me off. "But not really if you think about it. We know just about everything about each other. You know all my faults and I know all your weird rituals and we love each other anyway. What more is there to know? And I don't want you to feel like you're moving in to 'my place'. You should move in for now and I think we should start looking for a place of our own together. Something a little bigger than my condo. Maybe a townhouse or something. A place we can call 'our home'. We've waited long enough, Donna. I don't want to wait anymore."

I can feel the tears pooling in my eyes. "Josh," I manage to whisper through the emotion in my throat. "Are you sure? I mean, are you really, really sure?"

"Donna, I love you so, so much. I've never been surer. What do you say, do you want to shack up with me or what?" he says with nervous laughter.

"I'd really like that, Joshua. I love you," I say before wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him soundly.

"I'm glad about that…" he says between kisses. I feel him start to harden inside me and instinctively contract my inner muscles around him. He moans in to my mouth and I gasp as I feel him start to move above me. I'll never tire of this.

By the time we finally are ready for the party, it's nearly 11:30am. The party doesn't start until 1pm, but my stomach is growling and we both are craving coffee. We decide to find a Starbucks along the way for a quick snack and to get our caffeine fix. Josh keeps his promise and doesn't argue when I inform him it's my turn to drive the Mustang. We stop at the first Starbucks we see, sharing a bagel and enjoying our coffees while chatting aimlessly.

I decide it's time to let Josh in on my little surprise for tonight. At least part of it. "Josh, I have something for you for later tonight," I say nonchalantly, picking sesame seeds off the remaining bits of our bagel.

"Funny, I was thinking I have something for you later too," he says with a smirk, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"No, Josh, not that!" I laugh at his innuendo, feeling my face flush. "Though evidence would suggest I could likely be persuaded." Oh the things this man does to me!

He laughs, "That's a given. So what are you talking about then, my dear?"

"Well, it's a surprise. We need to be changed and ready to go by 6:30 tonight. So it'll require getting our schmoozing and convincing done by around 5. Think you can manage that my political wunderkind?"

"God, I was hoping to be out of there by 2!" he cries.

"Joshua that would give us only an hour there. I highly doubt even you can strong-arm a bunch of snobby, rich Democrats to part with their money that quickly. And our hosts might find it a bit rude. Not to mention, Leo would kill you…"

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'm just saying there should be absolutely no problem getting out of there by 5. And I have extra incentive to work efficiently today," he says suggestively.

"Oh yeah, what incentive is that?"

"Faster we get out of there, faster I get you alone, where you should feel, you know, completely free to prance around naked," he informs.

"Really?" I chuckle. "Well thank you for the permission. I'll take it under consideration."

"We should really think about making it a thing now that I think about it. When we get our new place, we'll make sure it has lots of trees or a fence or something so you can prance around the house naked and not worry about creepy peeping Toms."

"That's a nice thought, Josh, but whatever will we do about the creepy peeping Joshs?" I ask with mock seriousness.

"Hey! I wouldn't be creepy or peeping!" he whines. "I would simply be enjoying the wonder and beauty that is the body of the woman I love."

I smile at the sincerity in his tone. "Fine, but if you get to enjoy the view, I reserve the right to be given the same privileges."

"I think we can work something out," he smiles broadly.

"Just remember, Joshua, any of our friends find out about the nudist colony you're proposing we run at our hypothetical home, and your peeping days are over!" I warn with a laugh.

"I wouldn't think of it!" he promises with his hand over his heart. "Though we could charge and make a few bucks," he teases. I smack his arm and he feigns pain. "Don't worry, Donna, I don't ever plan on sharing you," he swears before leaning in for a quick kiss.

"Alright, enough with the scheming for now. Let's get this party over with, shall we?" We both swig back the last of our coffees and head back out to the car. The ride to Svengal's house was relatively quick. We arrive a fashionably 10 minutes late, handing over the keys to the valet. Josh seemed to be eying the young man curiously, which confused me until he made a show of taking my hand in his and pointedly telling the kid not to leave any scratches. Jealous Josh is always an amusing sight to see and I secretly revel in the fact that he no longer even attempts to hide it.

We enter the lavish, white marble foyer of the home and are directed out a rear set of doors. The backyard seems to have been built for entertaining. As we descend the wide, marble steps, I see a large covered patio to our right that looks like an outside living room with plush couches, a fully stocked (and busy) bar, built in fireplace, and flat screen television. To the left are another bar and an area with elegant tables and chair that seem to have been set up for this occasion. In the center of our field of view is a large, glistening swimming pool with a grotto and waterfall in the back corner. Beyond the yard, I notice that the property must drop off, as there's an amazing, unobstructed view of the ocean in the distance. It's beautifully landscaped with colorful flowers and plants tastefully accenting the man made features.

"I wouldn't be surprised if this place cost more than the White House," I whisper in to Josh's ear with awe.

"I guarantee it," he replies with a laugh.

"Josh! There you are!" a smarmy, well dressed man with a fake tan yells from the bar near the outdoor living room.

"Mr. Chairman, so good to see you again," Josh replies through his best fake smile. He really does hate this kissing up stuff. The man moves away from the group he was speaking with and makes his way over to us, holding his hand out to Josh.

"And this young lady must be your lovely assistant? You didn't mention her beauty, Mr. Lyman," he says to Josh. "Have you ever thought about acting my dear?"

I put on my own fake smile and take his proffered hand. "I'm flattered, but I like where I am. Donna Moss, sir. Pleased to meet you. You have a beautiful home. Thank you for having us." Josh isn't the only one who hates brown nosing.

"Please, call me Devon. Well, if you ever change your mind, give me a call. I'll set you up with my friend, Ari. Best agent in town," he winks, handing me his business card.

"I'll keep that in mind, sir," I reply, purposely keeping things formal. This guy reeks of pretentious ass and I'd really rather not get to know him any better than I have to. I look over at Josh who I can see is struggling to keep his mouth shut. His discomfort at Svengal's attentions is sweet, but we need his head in the game if we want to come away from this with a win. I stealthily rub my hand along his lower back, hoping to calm him. He seems to let go of some of the tension in his body and turns toward the group near the bar.

"Devon, I see a few of your friends from our lunch the other day. How about you introduce us to the rest of them and we'll see if we can help put their minds at ease?" he asks. His use of 'us' and 'we' do not go unnoticed and I appreciate him treating me as an equal in this endeavor. I'll have to remember to thank him properly later.

We spend the next few hours nursing the too sweet margaritas and coddling the egos of some of Hollywood's most rich and powerful behind the scenes men and women. I've always thought Josh had the biggest ego in the world, but I'm realizing it may only be the biggest in D.C. He has nothing on Svengal and his cohorts. I don't think I've heard people talk about their summer homes, yachts, and luxury cars with such fervor before. Probably because I don't really know anyone with summer homes, yachts, or luxury cars. Well, other than the President. And most of that came with the job.

As Ellen, a woman who's had so much work done that I can't quite tell if she's 30 or 60, drones on about her favorite pet charity (if you consider providing high end makeup to little girls in third world countries a charity… I mean, who needs food when you can have lipstick and eyeliner?), I scan the now crowded yard to see if I spot any celebrities. I don't think Josh knows this, but I keep a list of famous people I've met in my career. Just for fun, of course. I see a few D-listers sprinkled around, but I'm not seeing anyone worth swooning over.

Josh is doing a marvelous job of NOT putting his foot in his mouth and between my ability to artfully steer the conversations back to the DCCC and upcoming midterms and Josh's pointed arguments for keeping their support behind the party, we seem to finally made some headway in accomplishing our tasks. And we only had to sell our souls just a little (in the form of promised tickets to the State Dinner next month). Plus, watching Josh in political operative mode, watching him use his powers of persuasion to get what he wants… it's kind of hot!

I scan the crowd once more as our conversation winds down and spot Daniel O'Donnell sitting at a table in the back corner beside the pool's grotto. He has the table enraptured, hopefully doing the same thing we're doing. I tug on Josh's arm and point to the older politician. "We should probably go say hello and see how he's fairing," I whisper in his ear. Josh lets out a long, exasperated breath. "Yes, please. Anything to get us away from these vultures," he whispers back.

"Well, it was great meeting and talking with you all. If you have any more questions or concerns, please feel free to give us a call. We're going to go mingle and say hi to an old friend," Josh tells the group.

"Certainly, please enjoy yourselves and thank you again for making the trip," Svengal says, shaking both our hands and holding on to mine a few seconds longer than necessary. Finally, I feel Josh put his hand against my lower back and steer us toward Mr. O'Donnell.

"Well, that was painful. But you were great, Donna," he says sincerely. "I don't think I could have kept in check without you there. And you were able to keep those bastards on topic when they wanted to play 'my yacht's better than your yacht'. I don't know how you did that, but I think we got them to come around."

"Thank you, Josh. You were pretty impressive yourself. We make a good team," I reply.

"Yes, yes we do. In more ways than one," he says with an evil grin and wink.

"I won't deny that, but behave yourself. We still need to check in with O'Donnell before we're scot-free," I chastise with a grin.

"Ah-kay."

As we approach O'Donnell, he spots us coming and nods his head in acknowledgment. I look around his table and quickly realize I didn't see any celebrities in the crowd worth mentioning because the few that are actually here seem to all be sitting around the former Mayor's table. Tom Hanks and his wife, Rita Wilson, are sitting to O'Donnell's left with Steve Martin sitting just beyond them. And to O'Donnell's right, with their backs to us, are a man with short, dark brown hair who has his arm around the shoulders of a petite woman with fiery red hair. I can't see their faces to know who they are just yet, but sitting at this table, they must be someone important.

"Donna, I know you can get a little… excitable… around celebrities, but you need to promise me you'll keep your cool. Remember, we work for the White House and are representing the President. So no swooning or asking for autographs or anything Donna-like in that sense, okay?" he asks gently.

"Joshua, I'm fine! I mean, Tom Hanks is one of my favorite actors and Steve Martin is hilarious, but I can keep it together. I'll just summon my own acting experience," I assure him.

"Oh boy… please Donna, just treat them like anybody else. I had to talk David Hasselhoff out of issuing a restraining order against you last time we were in this kind of situation," he reminds me. I would be offended if that weren't very nearly true. But I was young and naïve then. I've got a few more years of experience playing the game under my belt now. Celebrities don't faze me anymore. Mostly.

"I got this. Don't worry your cute little butt about me," I say with more confidence than I feel.

Must. Keep. It. Together.

I take a deep breath and remind myself that they're just people. Award winning, talented, amazing people... And Democrats! I'll hold on to that thought. They're fellow Democrats. See? We have something in common. And it happens to be the topic we're here to talk about. I'm feeling much better about the situation now. No need to drum up inane small talk. I know the party and I know the political game. As long as the conversation stays work-related, I can keep myself in check. I stand up a little straighter as we finally reach the table, standing behind the couple I haven't been able to identify yet.

"Josh! And Miss Moss! So happy to see you! Have fun talking to our friends at the bar?" O'Donnell asks, rolling his eyes as the rest of the table laughs.

"Good to see you again, your honor. And let's just say we got the job done and leave it at that, shall we?" Josh winks.

"Why do you think I came over to this corner when I arrived? I saw you, but I'm too old to listen to their petty bullshit. So I found a few old friends over here and let's just say my job wasn't too difficult," he tells us with a grin and nod to the table. They all nod back in agreement.

"Oh, how rude of me. Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to Joshua Lyman, White House Deputy Chief of Staff, and his lovely and bright assistant, Donna Moss," O'Donnell tells the table.

Then, looking back at us, he goes around the table as we shake hands with each person while he introduces us, "Josh, Donna, you might recognize some of my compatriots here, but I'll introduce them anyway. This is Tom Hanks and his better half, Rita Wilson. Mr. Steve Martin." We finally reach the couple who we couldn't fully see until just now. "The lovely and talented Patti Scialfa, and her worse half, Mr. Bruce Springsteen," O'Donnell says with a laugh and playful slap to the man's shoulder. I can feel my face flush slightly when I realize Bruce Springsteen and his wife were the couple who I couldn't make out from the backs or their heads. I quickly recover, remembering my promise to Josh, and shake their hands as I did the rest, happy with my ability to take the surprise in stride.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," I say calmly as I stand up fully, turning to Josh with a proud smile. It takes me a second, but I soon realize that Josh is still shaking Bruce's hand, his mouth hanging open and eyes wide in shock. Mr. Springsteen is gracious enough to just giggle at my dumbfounded boss and boyfriend. I nudge Josh's side with my elbow, attempting to get his attention. He seems to break out of his spell, clearing his throat and finally releasing the rocker's hand as he stands back up fully beside me, still staring in awe.

"Sorry, I just… wow… um…" he stutters. And he was worried about me swooning!

"What Josh means to say is he's honored to meet you all as well," I say with a laugh.

"You alright there, Josh?" O'Donnell asks as he tries to hold back his laughter.

Josh slowly turns toward O'Donnell. "Yes, your honor. But that's… you know who that is, right?" he asks, pointing toward Mr. Springsteen. I quickly swat his hand back to his side. It is rude to point, mind you.

"Well I hope he knows who I am, Josh. The man's swindled me out of plenty of my hard earned money over the years! Am I right, Danny boy?" Bruce says, causing the table to laugh and nod their understanding.

Josh's head snaps back toward Springsteen upon hearing the man speak to him directly. His smile grows and he does a great impression of a fish, attempting to speak. I put my hand on his back, rubbing lightly to try and help him get his bearings and I do my best to suppress the laugh that is threatening to bubble over.

"Of course… of course. Mr. Springsteen, may I say it's a true honor, sir. I'm a huge fan. HUGE fan! Right, Donna?" Josh says, looking like a little boy who just met Superman. I giggle at his excitement.

"It's true, sir. In fact, he was just playing one of your records at our hotel the other night," I certify calmly, trying to save Josh as much dignity as possible during this very uncharacteristic display.

"Well, thank you. Always nice to meet a fan. And please, call me Bruce. Mr. Springsteen was my father," Bruce says. "And I'm a fan as well, Josh. What you guys have been doing in this administration has renewed my hope that maybe somebody in Washington hasn't forgotten about all those people I write songs about… The little guys who are working hard trying to make a life for their families but still struggling. Ole Danny, here, was telling me about a college tuition tax credit thing you're working on. That's really great, man. That's the kind of stuff I like to see happening."

Josh's face lights up with pride as he dips his chin in an 'awe-shucks' manner. When he looks back up, that cocky smirk has replaced the astonishment he was wearing a few moments ago. One of his heroes just said he was a fan… He's going to be unbearable the rest of the day at least. Good thing we're driving a convertible, because I don't think his head would fit in the car otherwise.

"We're doing our best, Mr. Springst… I mean, Bruce. If we can get some more help in Congress, we could really get things done," Josh says, still a hint of shock under the political operative voice he's returned to.

"Tommy and I were just talking about that on the way here, my man. We're not going anywhere. Just keep up the good work in D.C. and you'll have our support," Springsteen says with a wink. "Now that you're work here is done, have a little fun Lyman! It'd be a shame for you to come all this way just to kiss ass for your boss. I'm sure Donna, here, would enjoy some R&R, am I right Miss Moss?"

I can feel the heat of a blush creeping up my body and only hope the sun hides the redness. "I won't argue with you there, Bruce," I say. Little does he know just how much fun we've been having these last few days.

"Well, look at the time. I guess we should leave you to the festivities. It was an honor and pleasure meeting you all. On behalf of President Bartlet, thank you for your continued support," Josh says before we shake everyone's hands once more. O'Donnell holds mine a second longer as Josh says his final goodbyes.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Moss. You keep that kid in check for me," he says, nodding over toward Josh. "We need more people like you two in the party. You are our future. Just remember that politics can't be everything in life. Take it from someone who knows, if you let it take over, you end up an old pessimist like me who often forgets what we do all this for in the first place. And there's no quicker way to lose your edge than to stop caring about what you're working for," O'Donnell warns. His face remains stone sour, but you can tell by the look in his eyes, he's a man who's witnessed some casualties in the life of a politician… some personal casualties if I'd have to venture a guess.

"I'll remember that, your honor. And thank you. For everything," I say.

Josh comes over and shakes O'Donnell's hand in goodbye before we make our way back through the crowd and out to retrieve our car from the valet.

As we stand together waiting for our car, Josh's hand in its usual place at the base of my spine, I can't help but take this quiet opportunity to get a few digs in. "Boy, am I ever glad I was able to keep my cool in front of O'Donnell's celebrity friends. I mean, I know I can get… what did you call it? Excitable? Yeah, I mean, it would have been soooo embarrassing to freak out in front of someone I'm a big fan of. Don't you think?" I say sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah, get your little jokes in now, Donnatella. Just remember, I have it in my immense power to torture you later and I won't hesitate if you keep this up."

"You know who that is right?" I tease, mocking Josh.

"Donna…" he warns, but I can see he's fighting a grin.

"Oh, Mr. Springsteen, I'm such a BIG fan!"

"That's it, woman…" Josh says before pulling me to him and shutting me up with his mouth on mine. I moan in surprise and pleasure as his mouth moves expertly over mine before he releases me, breathless and stunned silent both from the sudden action and the fact that Josh just kissed me in front of dozens of powerful Democrats, apparently not caring about the consequences.

"Just remember this, my love… I happen to know for a fact that Bruce isn't my only fan," he says huskily, his lips still only inches from mine.

"Well, I suppose that's true," I reply causing that smug smirk to reappear on his face. "You do have your fan club on ," I deadpan. He lets out a frustrated breath, laying his forehead against my shoulder.

"Donnnaaa…" he whines. I frame his face in my hands and look him in the eyes.

"Joshua, since the day I met you, I've been your biggest fan. And I always will be. Just remember that…" I tell him sincerely. He smiles warmly and gives me one last quick kiss just as the valet pulls up with our car. I hop in the driver's seat and look at my watch, seeing it's just after 4pm. That should give us plenty of time.

"Gonna give me a hint on this surprise yet, Donnatella?" he asks as we pull away from the mansion.

"Nope! You'll just have to wait, Joshua, though I know patience is so not your strongest attribute."

"Come on… just a little hint," he pleads. I just laugh and shake my head 'no'. It's going to be a long ride back to the hotel.