A/N: Well, apparently you guys liked it! :) Thank you so much for all your feedback, it made me want to write this chapter even more. I loved reading your thoughts and predictions, and I can't wait to (hopefully) read more of them! Without further ado, here's chapter two. I'm already head over heels for this story.

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He sees her across the room, and for a moment, she catches a glimpse of the old Josh. He looks at her the same way he might've last year, when she walked into the bullpen. A slightly raised eyebrow, half a smirk, as if just the mere fact of them looking at each other is some sort of inside joke.

He approaches her, his expression becoming more wary as he does so. He's surprised. Floored, actually. She can't help but take a little pleasure in having totally floored Josh Lyman.

"Hey." He greets. "What are you doing here?" It's not harsh, just curious. A little reserved, maybe. He's holding out judgment.

She steadies herself. She's been anticipating this moments for weeks. Now that it's arrived, she isn't sure how to feel. Somehow, 'glad to see him' is at the top of the list.

She takes a deep breath. "I need to talk to you about something."

He tries to appear unaffected by this news. "Okay. What?"

"Not here." She looks around at his meager collection of staffers, all trying to pretend they aren't watching her.

"Oh. Um, okay. My office?"

"That sounds good." Relieved, she follows him through a winding maze of desks, rain filled buckets, and, inexplicably, a kayak.

While he leads her through the office, he can't help but wonder why she's here. A campaign tip, maybe? Nothing to give him an edge, of course, but maybe she'd want to alert him if he was about to be blind sided. She'd still extend that courtesy, wouldn't she? He's not so sure.

He hasn't seen her in ages. Not up close, at least. Impossibly, she looks even better than he remembers.

"So." He sits hesitantly behind his desk, as she sinks into his vistor's chair. It's not really an office so much as a makeshift cubicle, but it's secluded enough. "What's up?"

"Well." She folds her hands in her lap, and crosses her legs. He tries not to think of her crossing every part of herself for luck. Thankfully, she looks about as uncomfortable as he does. "I need to talk to you about something."

"You already said that."

She silences him with a glare. "It's pretty... Big. And I've gone back and forth with myself about when to tell you, and how, but... it's time you know."

"What's going on?"

"The thing is..." She runs a hand through her hair and lets out a nervous chuckle. "This is so hard, oh my god. You have no idea."

Her smile does little to lessen his building anxiety. "Is it the congressman? Do you have something big on him that's going to leak? Because-"

"Josh." She interrupts him. "Please."

"It's good of you to come down here in person, it is, but if there isn't a lot of time-"

"Josh, I'm pregnant."

"-then we should... What?" Her words catch up with him abruptly. He must've misheard her.

"I'm pregnant." She repeats. She watches him carefully for any sign of a reaction. "You know, with child." She tries another tactic.

Josh just stares at her. He has trouble processing the news at all. His first reaction is denial. She can't be - there's no way. She looks the same as ever. Just last week, she was running all over the country and giving his campaign hell just the way he taught her. She can't be pregnant. He sits forward in his chair, and licks his lips. His mouth feels very dry, all of a sudden. "How... How long have you..."

That's not really what he's asking. "Three months. I'm three months pregnant."

"You... Oh. Oh."

"Which makes it yours."

He continues to stare at her. This can't be happening. "Mine?" He repeats in a stunned whisper.

"Yours." She confirms, starting to lose patience.

"You're sure?"

"Positive." She tells him. "There wasn't anyone for... A while, before."

"After?"

She looks deeply irritated. "Not that you have any right to know, but no, there hasn't been anyone since."

He appears minimally comforted by this news. He sinks back into his chair, the breath suddenly knocked from his body. "The pill. I thought you were on the pill." He didn't think to check that night. Hell, he didn't think at all that night.

She shrugs, defeated. She's been over this with herself a million times already, and berated herself each time. "I must've missed a day, while I was traveling. Or took it at the wrong time, or something. I don't know. Either way... We weren't really thinking about that, were we?"

She doesn't sound mad at him, or even at herself. She's come to terms with it by now. But then, she's had more time. "Three months?"

"Yeah."

His entire world is spinning. It's been spinning for three months, apparently, and he was none the wiser. "You didn't tell me for three months?"

A hint of fear creeps into her eyes. "That's how long they say you should wait to tell people."

"Yeah, your coworkers! Your cousin that you only see at holidays! Not the father, Jesus, Donna." Even as he lashes out at her, he can't help the strange feeling that possesses him as he uses the word father. A father. Me. Holy shit.

"I didn't want you to be invested, in case something, you know... Happened." Her gaze drops to her lap, and he sees in her a moment of vulnerability.

"I still would've wanted to know." He says, softer this time. If something happened, he wanted to be there for her. This wasn't her burden alone - at least, it shouldn't be.

"Anyway." She shakes her head, brushing the moment off. "I've only known for a few weeks. And I've spent a lot of it... Processing."

"We could've processed together." He says feebly.

This earns him a weak smile. "You have to understand, I was going through a lot, and I knew you were too, and the amount of pressure it would've put on us..." She sighs. "How is that processing thing going for you, by the way?"

"Please, just... Keep talking. Don't ask me anything just yet." He puts his head in his hands, feeling a dull ache start at his temples. "I can't believe... I just..."

"I know." She says softly.

The irony in the room is thick. If either one of them had been asked to imagine this moment, of finding out they were a father or telling someone they were, both would've envisioned a moment of joy. A celebration too big for words, too big for this room. As much as Josh had never wanted kids, and would've put money on himself accidentally knocking someone up before he ever conceived a child of his own volition, he would've pictured the perfect moment. They both would've. Huge smiles, rough hugs, elated kisses and "I love you"s.

And, though they would've both denied it, the two people in that fantasy would be the same ones sitting across from each other right now.

It shouldn't have happened like this.

"I decided, you know, to keep it." She tells him gently. She doesn't get in to whether she would've told him if she'd decided not to. "I'm sorry, but that part isn't really up for debate."

From behind his hands, he just nods. He hopes it's with conviction. That possibility hadn't even occurred to him.

"But I've also decided that I'm not going to hold you responsible for anything." She starts bravely. "I made my choice, and I have to deal with it. This is what I want. But I understand if it's not what you want, too."

His hands drop from his face. "What?"

"I'm not here to ask you for anything. Your time, money, anything. I can handle it on my own."

"Then what are you-"

"It's your choice how involved you want to be." She's not going to make him feel beholden to her. His pity, his grudging involvement, would feel worse than his indifference. "It's entirely up to you. You can come to the appointments, you can be there when they're born, you can be as involved as you want. Or, as uninvolved as you want. You never have to be there. I'll never mention you to the baby, if you don't want. You won't be missed, you won't be an absent father. I wouldn't do that to you."

She's going off on one of her Donna spiels, which he can never tell if she'd prepared in advance or not. Overwhelmed, he just stares. She's beginning to blur before his eyes, and her words are coming in too fast for him to sort them all out.

"I know this isn't something you planned for." She shoots him a worried look. "And, me either, but I've decided I want this. You don't have to, okay? It's okay if you don't. That's all."

What happened to them? Why aren't they in this together, as they've always been with everything else? From work, to drunken nights, to hospital rooms and recoveries, they've never done anything that wasn't as a team.

"I... I don't know what to say."

She nods, as if she'd expected this. "That's okay. You don't have to decide what you want right now. You can let me know when you have an idea, whether it's tomorrow, a few weeks from now... Again, it's all up to you."

Yes, you've made that much abundantly clear. Thanks for the help. She shifts in her chair, and he feels a momentary panic. "Are you leaving?"

"I've really gotta get back to work." She says apologetically. He suspects a layer of relief underneath. "Will doesn't know that I'm here, and... You know. Plus, you should have some time to think this over. On your own."

"I don't think very well on my own."

She smiles. "Chin up, okay? You'll get through this."

"I think better with you."

She shakes her head. "I'm not helping you on this one. This is your thing to decide. I can't give you the right answers, I can't be your sounding board. Not for this."

"You're just going to drop this on me and then leave?"

She opens her purse and then roots around for something. "This is for you."

He takes the proffered piece of paper, and flips it over. It's a sonogram.

"I thought you might want it." She says, some of her previous nerves creeping back through her mask of determination. "You don't have to keep it, but..."

"Thank you." He says hoarsely, unable to tear his eyes away from it. It doesn't look like a human yet - not at all. But somehow, the little black and white image, more shadow than living thing, has arrested every part of him. "Thank you."

His expression threatens to thaw her. She turns toward the exit before she can change her mind. "You can call me, okay? Once you've thought it over."

All he can do is nod. She leaves, pausing just for a moment to look back at him. He's still staring, eyes wide and helpless. As she makes her way back through the office, past the kayak and the buckets, a single tear spills over her cheek.

Back in the cubicle, her parting words echo in Josh's head. Once you've thought it over. He doesn't know how to think about this. Not critically, or logically, or even with his usual impulsive, "go with your gut" strategy. He doesn't know how to do anything but stare at the picture in his hands, of his child, and let himself be slowly buried under this feeling.

Whatever that may be.

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January 4th, 2006

Donna was tired. She was bone-weary and flattened. From excess travel, to meeting what seemed to be hundreds of people, voters and staffers alike, to navigating her new job, which was equal parts thrilling and challenging... She was past beat. She'd only been in her new position for a couple of weeks, but it felt longer. Each day practically steamrolled her. And she was loving every minute of it.

It felt strange to be back in DC. Though she hadn't been gone long, a couple weeks anywhere else is practically years in district time. She already felt passed by.

She was there for the Vice President, who had a Senate vote to preside over the next day. Before and after the vote, Donna and a few other select staffers would be taking meetings with popular Congressmen from key districts to convince them to line up behind Bob Russell.

She'd been looking forward to a night in her own bed until she remembered that the woman from Treasury who was subletting her apartment had moved in on the first. And, since "twitchy" (an unfortunate nickname bestowed on her by Josh and CJ) wouldn't be paying her first rent check until the end of the month, Donna was a little strapped for cash. Any hotel that was close enough to the Hill for her to make her first morning meeting was bound to be priced through the roof at such short notice.

So, really, she had no choice. At least, that was what she told herself. Could she have asked CJ if she could crash on her couch? Yes. Could she have bothered her old roommate for a night on the futon? Definitely. Could she have slept in her car? She'd done it before. But, conveniently, none of those things occurred to her.

She had the key. It wasn't like she'd be breaking in. And she knew the Santos campaign to be in New Hampshire for the week, anyway, so he wouldn't be there. She'd leave the apartment in the same state it was when she got there, no matter how much it irked her not to make the bed. He wouldn't even know she was there.

Mostly, she just really needed a place to sleep. A place to sleep well, hopefully - and she knew one place that she'd be comfortable.

She got to his apartment a little before midnight, and tried not to feel watched as she snuck up the stairs and down the hallway. She'd long since memorized the entry code to his building. She slowed in front of his door, her heart thumping persistently, a reminder that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't do this casually.

She ignored her accelerating pulse and pulled out her keys, finding the right one in an instant. She fumbled a little with the lock, but in no time at all was tumbling inside with a breath of relief. She paused in the dark hallway and started to toe off her shoes, shoving her bulky overnight bag against the wall.

"Um, Donna?"

She nearly collapsed against the wall in surprise. Halfway down the hall, leaning out of the doorway to the living room, was Josh. Shit. "Oh my god!"

"What are you doing here?"

She placed a hand over her heart. "Oh my god, you scared me."

"I scared you? You're the one that just broke into my apartment."

She refrained from telling him that next time he fears he's being burgled, his reaction probably shouldn't be to lean casually into the hallway and watch the intruder enter. "I'm sorry. Crap, I didn't think you'd be here."

"Yeah, obviously."

"I just needed a place to stay, while I'm in town, and I'm subletting my apartment, and I had the key, so I thought, you know, and I wasn't going to wreck the place or anything, but..." She trailed off, her babbling made more difficult by her shortness of breath.

"You're in town for the Senate vote?"

"Yeah."

"Me too."

"Why?" She asked blankly.

"Because, I was working on it, you know. Back before I left. And CJ was hoping I could come up and see it through."

Oh. She should've known that, she'd been working on it right along with him. "Right. Right, of course, I'm sorry."

He leaned back against the doorframe, staring at her. "That's okay."

"I should go, obviously." She looked down, mortally embarassed. "I'm so sorry, again, I know this was wrong on so many levels, I do, so I'll just go, and..." She continued to babble as she started gathering up her things. She picked up her shoes in one hand, not wanting to waste any time putting them on before making a mad dash for the exit.

"Donna." He interrupted. "You can stay."

She froze, crouched down and in the middle of pawing for her keys, which she'd dropped. "What?"

"You can stay here. I mean, this was a little..." He gestured vaguely at her, a trace of amusement on his face. "Strange, but, you needed a place to stay. I get it."

"You do?"

He nodded, folding his arms. "You can stay here."

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Josh is in a daze for the rest of the day. A few minutes after Donna left, Ronna appeared in his office and told him he had a call waiting. He could tell she was itching to ask what Donna had wanted, but he didn't give. He flipped the sonogram picture over on his desk, and took the call.

After that, he was on his feet most of the day. He went through his meetings and events on autopilot, mind anywhere but on what he was doing. It wasn't exactly on the question that Donna had put to him, either. It was mostly just buzzing faintly.

He finds a moment to himself mid-afternoon. He pulls the sonogram picture out of his pocket, where he'd stowed it hastily. He stares at it, his chest throbbing painfully. The now familiar feeling of overwhelming awe rushes over him. Every shape, every stray splotch, he now knows intimately, but he'll never tire of looking at it.

He remembers a conversation he and Donna had long ago, back on the first Bartlet for America campaign. He had thrown her into the deep end by asking her to distract a Congressman, while he went to find the DNC big wig he needed something from. Predictably, she'd floundered at first, but rose rapidly to the occasion, as he knew she could.

"What are you talking about? You did great."

"Josh!" She said lividly, flicking a strand of hair out of her face. God, she was adorable. "That was not great! I asked him where he bought his pants, for God's sake."

"He seemed quite engaged with you by the end, there."

"I think he thought I was hitting on him!" She said in a furious whisper. They were still at the cocktail mixer, sequestered against a wall.

He shrugged, unable to help a grin. "He's an attractive sort of man."

"He has dentures!"

"In his day, I mean."

"Ha, ha. Very funny."

"Oh, c'mon. This was great experience. You got out there and did a job, and now you don't have to worry about it anymore. Next time, you'll be great. And I'm sure this'll make for a great memory, for years to come."

"I'm sure." She said sarcastically. "I'll be telling this story to my kids, my grandkids, and my great grandkids a million times over."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You want kids?" Those were the days that their conversation could slip seamlessly from meaningless and trivial to serious and weighty in an instant. But then, those days lasted until very recently.

She looked taken aback by the question. "Well, yeah. I do. Of course I do. Someday."

He took a sip of his drink. "Huh."

"What? You don't?"

He shrugged. "I can't really see myself as someone's 'dad' anytime soon, can you?" He didn't really answer her question.

She looked at him considerately. "I don't know. I could. Raising hell at PTA meetings, cheering overly loudly at little league games. Getting way too into first grade 'career day.' I could see you with kids."

And though his mother had been bothering him about grandchildren for a good five years by then, that was the first time that he could, too.

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January 4th, 2006

An hour after she arrived, Donna found herself sitting on the couch with her former boss. She had changed into her pajamas for the night, an old Bartlet shirt and striped boxers. After a brief argument about who would take the couch (Josh was, for some reason unbeknownst to her, chivalrous on the issue until the bitter end) they settled down to watch CSPAN and do some respective paperwork.

Josh had had his laptop open and files spread across his table when she walked in, evidently in the middle of working, but had moved to sit beside her. It felt weird to be behind her, watching over her shoulder.

There was a thick wall of tension and discomfort between them, which neither had the courage to broach for several minutes. They hadn't exactly left things in a good place. Hell, they hadn't really left things at all.

He was tense beside her, and she knew he was hiding how wounded he was. She felt marginally guilty, but if her independence and self worth had to come at such a high price, it was still worth it.

"So... The Santos campaign." She started bluntly.

His head whipped toward her. "What about it?"

"Just that you started a campaign, that's all. I had no idea you wanted to."

He gazed at her intensely. A little coldly, he said, "Yeah, well."

She didn't tell him that she'd been a little bit hurt when she found out. Usually, she was in on his every thought. And then, he'd up and quit his job, the one she thought he would never leave, to pursue the candidacy of a man she'd barely heard him mention. But then, maybe their communication hadn't been the best lately.

He didn't tell her that he hadn't been considering leaving until she had. She'd left because she felt inconsequential, but if things worked out the way he planned, she might've changed the course of national history.

"Sorry." She said softly. She wasn't sure what she was apologizing for.

He softened. "No, it's... Yeah. Matt Santos. He's a great guy, really. He's got what it takes. And what's more, he's got what we need."

She liked the spark in his eyes. She'd missed it. "Right."

"We're having a little trouble getting off the ground, but... I think we've got a shot."

"I don't doubt it." How could she, with him at the helm. She knew what he was capable of.

He shrugged dismissively. He didn't believe her. "So how's Bingo Bob?"

That was definitely the wrong thing to say. She stiffened. "We're doing well. Perhaps you've noticed." She said pointedly.

"I have."

"I know what you think of him, okay? But he's the democratic frontrunner. And aside from that, my choosing to work for his campaign wasn't necessarily about believing in him, it was about-"

"You don't need to say it again." He cut her off, his surge of emotion masked in gruffness. "The needing room to grow, the whole speech. Please, just... Don't say it again." A hint of pain crept into his voice. He covered with half a smile, as if he was joking.

She looked away. "Maybe we should call it a night."

"Are you tired?"

"No." Though she was ready to collapse an hour ago, she was wide awake now.

"Me either."

"Oh."

"You want a drink, or something?"

"Not really."

"You wanna keep watching this?"

She stared absently at the polling data flashing across the screen. It was nothing she hadn't already seen. "Not really."

He turned it off. "Okay."

Another wall of tension and discomfort descended over them.

"I didn't mean to be a jerk, just then." He offered.

She shook her head. "It's okay."

"I should probably make some phone calls." He said apologetically.

"Oh. Okay."

He didn't reach for his phone. "Unless..."

"Unless what?"

He turned to look at her. There was a strange fierceness in his eyes that not even she recognized. She wasn't sure if it was directed at her, or if it contained malice.

Before she knew what was happening, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. The pressure was firm but not insistent, and for a moment she had no idea what to do.

He pulled back an inch. "Sorry, I-"

She placed her hands on either side of his head and kissed him without hesitation.

The next few minutes passed in a blur of ragged breathing, thumping hearts, a frenzied undoing of buttons and eight years. He gently lowered her back onto the couch, and then slid her more firmly under him. She struggled to take her shirt off, so he helped her out of it. He stared down reverently at her for a moment, making her blush and smile, before fervently kissing everywhere from her neck to her belly button.

The next thing she knew, he was kneeling in front of her, her legs loose around his waist, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Are you sure?"

She didn't say anything, just tugged at his belt buckle and nodded.

Shortly thereafter, he was pressed against her, heat trapped between them as their breathing slowed to normal speed. It was possible, she considered, that they could be stuck this way. She wouldn't mind.

He nuzzled her neck and kissed a spot behind her ear that made her squirm. She ran her hands through his hair, down his neck, grazed his shoulders with her nails. Her knees were bent on either side of his waist.

Eventually, he said, "This wasn't how this was supposed to happen."

Alarm bells flared somewhere at the back of her clouded brain, mistaking what he'd said to mean 'this shouldn't have happened.' "What do you mean?"

"This was so... Fast."

"Bad?" She didn't fully articulate the question. Air was having trouble finding her lungs.

"No." He shook his head. "God, no, I just... I wanted this to be slower. Better. I wanted us to take our time."

"Wanted?"

He kissed her temple. "Eight years."

She grinned, and shook her head. "No. This was perfect."

"You think?"

"Perfect." She repeated more softly. After eight years, it would've been strange if they'd thought to take it slow. It would've been wrong if they hadn't wanted each other that much, that desperately.

He smiled against her neck. Gingerly, he raised himself up to sit back on his heels. He stared down at her with remarkable warmth, and unveiled desire. He ran one hand gently along the side of her ribcage, across her stomach, up her sternum. She smiled up at him serenely, renewed heat building in the wake of his hand. "There are just so many other things I want to do for you."

He dipped his head again, finding the hollow of her collarbones with his mouth. He trailed down the center of her chest before straying to one side and pulling her into his mouth.

Her back arched involuntarily as she pulled his hair. The noises she was making were probably embarrassing, but she wasn't in enough command to stop them.

He stopped again in the center of her chest, and she tried vainly to catch her breath before he moved to the other side lazily.

"Listen." She started in a shaky voice. "As much as I would love to stay like this for possibly the rest of my life..."

He raised his head. "Yeah?"

"My leg." She said apologetically. It had started to ache a while ago, but it had taken her some time to notice, and even longer to care. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize." He sat back on his heels again, and ran one hand over her knee. "It's okay, we should move to the bed anyway."

She watched him in amusement as he climbed off her onto the floor. They'd been so rushed, she hadn't even gotten his pants off. "Why's that?"

"For round two."

"There's going to be a round two?"

"As many rounds as you want."

She liked the sound of that. For as long as she'd been having sex, she hadn't met many guys who weren't "one and done," generally preferring to fall asleep after. And though she'd wanted nothing more than a decent night's sleep when she'd let herself in that night, now, she couldn't think of anything more appealing than staying up with him for hours on end.

"Lead the way."

Before she can protest, he bent down and lifted her into his arms. She stared at him as he started to carry her back toward his bedroom.

"Seriously?"

"Oh, this is the least of the many wonderful things I can do for you."

She was happy to see his telltale ego creeping back through. She laughed. "Is that so?"

"Uh huh." He set her down on his bed, surprisingly gentle. Again, he stared at her, so gorgeous and tousled and impossible as she watched him curiously.

"What?"

"You're perfect."

She couldn't seem to find a response to that. She smiled.

"Lay back."

She obliged. Under any other circumstances, she hated receiving orders, but this was different. He climbed over her again, capturing her mouth in his.

When he lifted his head again, she tugged at his belt loops. "You gonna take these off any time soon?"

He grinned at her madly. "Nope. Not yet."

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Toward the end of the day, Josh is having a one on one with the Congressman, but can't seem to hold his own. Matt notices.

"Something wrong, Josh?"

"How did it feel when you found out you were going to be a father?" He asks abruptly. He'd been considering asking him for almost an hour. He was one of the few fathers working on the campaign, and generally speaking, one of the best Josh knew.

Matt looks at him as if he'd gone crazy. "What?"

"When you found out you were going to be a father for the first time." Josh rubs at his forehead, already regretting this. "How did it feel?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Congressman..."

"It doesn't have to do with the campaign, does it?" Matt deduces.

"No."

Matt scrutinizes him for a moment. He looks impossibly lost, not an expression one usually hopes to see on their campaign manager. "I felt... I can't describe it. It was amazing. Awestruck. I was awestruck."

"Right."

"I mean, I was overjoyed. But I was overwhelmed, too. No one prepares you for that moment."

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you what this is about?"

Josh takes a deep breath. "I got some news today."

"And?"

Josh gives him a wary look. "Congressman, I'm sorry..."

Matt holds up a hand. "You'll tell me when you're ready."

His campaign manger looks back at him with boundless gratitude. "Thank you."

"No problem."

"You, um... You never had any doubt, did you? That that was what you wanted?"

Matt hesitates. "I had some doubts about whether I would be a good father, sure. But at the end of the day... You see that first sonogram, you hear that first heartbeat... You know you're going to die trying."

Josh thinks back, suddenly, to a conversation with his own father, decades ago. It was Father's Day, and Josh was about six or seven at the time. He and Joanie made Noah breakfast (or rather, Joanie did, while Josh bounced around the kitchen unhelpfully). They brought it to him in bed, and after Joanie left to hunt down some breakfast for herself, Josh hopped up next to his dad and started munching on one of his pieces of bacon.

"Dad?"

"Joshua?" Noah echoed.

"How did you know that you wanted to be a dad, dad?"

Noah smiled. He knew his son was past the age where he needed to tell him that he'd always dreamed of being a father, and that he'd wanted him for as long as he'd lived. "I knew when I met your mother."

Josh's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He was ever an inquisitive child. "Because that's when I knew I could be good at it. With her by my side, I knew I could do anything."

"Huh."

"We wanted a family together. And now I love being a father more than I could've ever possibly imagined."

Josh slumped down against his side, and swiped a strawberry. "Huh."

"Do you think you'll ever want to be a father?"

Josh wrinkled his nose. "No."

"No? You don't?"

"Nope. Too much to do."

Noah chuckled. "Well, maybe you'll change your mind one day. Meet a nice girl..."

Josh looked at him incredulously. "A nice girl is an oxymoron."

Noah couldn't help but grin. Only his son would know how to use the word 'oxymoron' while still at the age that he thought girls were gross. "You'll see, son. One day."

Josh jolts suddenly back to the present. "Thank you, Congressman."

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January 5th, 2006

Josh's alarm went off at five. He reached over to turn it off before sitting back against the headboard, staring at the woman starting to stir beside him. Donna pulled herself to his side of the bed, and rested her head on his stomach. She kissed his scar.

The last time she'd seen it, it looked so angry. It still had the stitches in. She was happy to see it now looked like an integral part of him, moving easily up and down with each breath.

"I have an early meeting. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I do too." She suspected now that he'd probably come to do some of the same work that she had.

He sighed. "Listen..."

She sighed too. "Yeah. Here it comes."

"I'm sorry. You have no idea how much I wish..."

She shook her head. "I know. It's okay."

"Maybe after the dust has settled..."

"After the convention?"

"Yeah."

She swallowed. That was a long time to wait. "No, I understand. We work for opposing campaigns."

"Yeah. That complicates things."

"And we'd never see each other." She didn't want to see him every two weeks, only to have to tiptoe around their work lives, to have him look at her with barely veiled resentment at the man she worked for.

"Yeah."

If they were going to do this, they were going to go all the way. That much she knew. And she wasn't ready to give up the independence from him she'd only just won. It would be hard, but maybe, just maybe, it would mean they'd be closer at the end of all this.

"Last night was..." She feared for a moment that he would say 'a mistake.' "...Perfect."

She smiled. "It was."

Maybe he wasn't totally ready to forgive her, either. "I guess that's it, for now."

"For now." She echoed sadly.

The words sat on the tip of his tongue. 'I love you.' "I should probably get in the shower."

"I'll join you."

It was a hard goodbye, but it was a good one.

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Josh barrels into his office and grabs his phone off the desk. He presses number one on speed dial, because he still hasn't taken her off. He waits impatiently for her answer.

"Hello?" She picks up finally.

"I'm in."

She hesitates. "Josh?"

"Yeah, who else? I'm in, I want to do this. I want to be there. For all of it. You and me, right? This is how it's supposed to be."

He can hear her smile through the phone. "Josh, I..."

"Appointments, sonograms, you name it. I'm there."

"Really?"

"Of course I am! Jesus, Donna, what the hell was all that 'it's up to you, you don't have to be involved' bullshit? Of course I want to be involved. This is our kid."

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"And I want to see you. Soon. There's more to talk about. And, well, I just want to see you."

"Okay. Yeah. That sounds good. This week?"

"Yeah. You can call me."

Halfway across the country, on a bus, she bounces happily. Will watches her surreptitiously. "Okay, I will."

"I can't believe you thought I didn't want to be involved." He berates her one more time.

"I'm sorry, I just thought..."

"We're having a baby." He interrupts her, awe robbing him of breath. "Can you believe that?"

Another tear slips over her face. "Yeah. Pretty amazing, right?"

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Aw, we all knew Josh was going to do the right thing, didn't we? ;) I'm surprised at how many of you doubted he was the father. After reading some reviews, I thought very briefly of changing the plot and making it someone crazy instead, to keep things interesting. But, I digress. We all knew this was meant to happen.

Also, I think I'm going to find a way to slip Noah Lyman into everything I write from now on.

Let me know what you think! Thoughts/feelings/reactions/predictions, I can't wait to read 'em all. Thanks for reading!