"We're so glad you were able to get away tonight, Sam," Donna said as she
stirred the large pot of marinara sauce on the stove top.

"Considering what you guys are doing for me it seemed like the least I could
do." Sam smiled at her from his seat at the small kitchen table. "Besides, how
could I possibly turn down your mother's red sauce?"

"It is the only edible Italian food in Wisconsin," Josh said as he entered the kitchen. He plucked a piece of celery from the counter and stuffed it in his mouth.

"Josh, stop pilfering," Donna said.

"It's my house, how can I be pilfering?"

"It's my house too, and those are for our guests."

"Actually, it's an apartment," Sam put in helpfully.

"Yeah, but this is as close as you get to a house in this town if your last name
isn't Hilton or Trump," Josh said. He turned to Donna. "I'm eating vegetables
of my own free will and you have a problem with that?"

She sighed. "Fine, whatever. But if you're going to eat them, could you at least
arrange them on a plate while you're doing so?"

"A man's work is never done," Josh muttered, and Donna reached over to whap
him on the head.

She didn't have far to reach; the kitchen was a respectable size for a Manhattan
apartment, but close quarters nonetheless. Sam was impressed by how much they had managed to fit into the cozy square-shaped space. Pots and pans hung from hooks on the walls and herbs and spices shared shelf space with oversized mugs and coffee filters. On the table in front of him sat a cobalt blue ceramic bowl filled with the lifeblood of your typical New York apartment: ketchup and soy sauce packets. But the piece de resistance was the refrigerator: almost its entire surface was blanketed with newspaper clippings on which Josh had drawn angry red circles or exclamation points or the occasional obscenity; the rest of the space was taken up with photos of corn-fed cherubs who could only be Donna's nieces and nephews. All were affixed with brightly colored magnets that Josh claimed Donna was constantly picking up at street fairs and 99 cents stores.

It was small, but so homey, so quintessentially Josh-and-Donna, that Sam couldn't really imagine it looking any other way. He smiled to himself.

"What?" Josh asked him, grabbing a plate from inside one of the beech wood
cabinets and proceeding to arrange the carrots, celery, and broccoli on it, setting a few aside in a pile that Sam presumed was going to be his personal stash.

"Nothing," Sam said. "You're just so...domestic."

Donna snickered; Josh groaned. "Sam! Could you at least try to give me some
dignity, here?"

"Fine. You're a dignified domestic."

"Oh, that's much better, thanks." The phone rang; Josh picked it up, carrot in hand. "Yeah. Yeah, send 'em up. Thanks." He hung up the receiver and popped the carrot into his mouth. "They're here."

"Great," Donna said. "Grab the hummus out of the fridge and put it and the
vegetables out on the coffee table, assuming you haven't eaten them all already."

"Yes, Donna. You're welcome, Donna. Happy to help, Donna," Josh said as he
opened the refrigerator door, took out the hummus, and slammed the door shut.

"I love you too, Josh," she said, peering into the bowl of sauce. She dipped the
wooden spoon in, brought it to her mouth for a taste. "Hmm. Needs more garlic."

"It always needs more garlic," Josh said over his shoulder as he headed for the
living room. "Come on, Sam, let's leave the little lady in the kitchen where she
belongs."

"I heard that," she called after him.

Sam laughed, grabbed his beer, and followed his friend into the other room just
as there was a knock on the door. He was closest, so, "I'll get it," he said, and
turned the knob.

"Sam!" CJ enveloped him in a warm hug; it was like being caught in a tornado
of blue silk and long limbs and Red Door. "It's so good to see you!" She pulled
back, gave him the once-over. "Why Sam Seaborn, you've bulked up."

"It's hard to live in Orange County and not turn into a gym rat," Sam admitted.
"Too much peer pressure."

"Spoken like the skinny kid who got beat up at recess," Toby said dryly. He
extended a hand for Sam to shake. "How's it going, boy wonder?"

"Other than that whole running for the democratic presidential nomination thing,
not too bad," Sam replied.

"About that, Sam," Josh said. "I had some ideas for TV spots in the rust belt.
I think if we --"

"Josh," Donna said warningly from behind him. "No politics until after dessert.
Hi guys." She hugged CJ and Toby in turn.

"What else am I supposed to talk about?" Josh asked.

"He does have a bit of a one-track mind," CJ pointed out.

"Someone who loves the sound of his own voice as much as Josh does is bound
to come up with something," Donna said dryly. She gestured them toward the
seating area in the living room, a grouping of three overstuffed loveseats with
orange and red Middle Eastern inspired throw pillows scattered decoratively on
the cushions. "Come on in, sit down. Dinner will be ready soon."

"Come to think of it, I did have a fascinating discussion with a professor in the
physics department the other day about the grand unified theory," Josh said.
Everyone else groaned. "Wow, tough room," he muttered.

"How is life at Columbia?" CJ asked, taking a seat.

Josh shrugged. "The usual. More in-fighting and back-stabbing than the DNC,
pretentious t.a.'s, vacuous freshmen, hot co-eds..." he glanced at Donna, "not
that I would notice that kind of thing, of course."

Donna rolled her eyes. "As if you could avoid it. We've gotten a couple of
pairs of panties in the mail," she told their guests.

"You're kidding," CJ said.

"Hey, I got your panties in the mail once too, you know," Josh reminded his wife.

"First of all, that was completely different, and second of all, I can't even believe
you brought that up. That was a very embarrassing..."

"Hey, what are you guys drinking?" Josh interrupted, changing the subject. "We
have pretty much a full bar."

"Beer is fine," Toby said, and CJ nodded agreement.

"I'll get them," Donna said. "I should check on the sauce anyway." She brushed past Josh on her way to the kitchen, and he half-turned, watching her go. Some things never change, Sam thought.

"God, Josh, some things never change," CJ said.

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you always make her get your beverages for you?" CJ asked.

Josh put his hands out defensively as he sat down across from his guests. "She
volunteered!" he yelled. "I didn't even ask her, let alone make her."

Toby cleared his throat. "You don't see them as often as I do, CJ. Trust me when I tell you that Josh is well and truly whipped."

"I've only been here for about an hour and I can vouch for that," Sam concurred.

"Hey, I'll have you know I am just as much of a man as I have ever been," Josh said. "And that, my friends, is a whole lot of man." He lifted up the plate from the coffee table. "Anybody care for some crudités?"

*****

"I still can't believe Hoynes said that to you," Josh marveled. He was seated on one of the loveseats with Donna's sock-clad feet in his lap, and his hand absentmindedly rubbed her shin underneath her pant leg. Coffee cups and napkins littered the coffee table from when the dinner party decided to have a casual dessert in the living room instead of at the dining table in the adjoining alcove. Donna had put on a Vivaldi CD during dinner, and the sounds of "Autumn" now subtly filled the room. CJ was sprawled on the facing loveseat, having kicked off her own shoes, and Sam and Toby huddled on the remaining couch, careful to keep a manly distance from each other.

It was, Josh decided, quite something to have four of the people you cared for most in the world all in the same room, after all this time. He also decided he had to be getting old and overly sentimental to even have such a thought in the first place.

"I believe it," Toby said. "He's been a thorn in our sides since he lost the election seven years ago."

"He's been a thorn in the side of the entire Democratic party," Josh said.

"Yeah, but when wasn't he?" CJ asked.

"Fair point."

Donna shifted on the couch and removed her feet from Josh's lap. "I'm going to run down to the corner and see if they have tomorrow's paper yet," she told him as she stood up and stretched.

Josh reached up to take her hand. "You don't have to do that," he said softly.

She smiled down at him, squeezed his hand to let him know she understood. "I want to. It's a nice night. Maybe I'll take a walk around the block." She slipped on her shoes and grabbed her keys. "I'll be right back, you guys."

"You need money?" Josh called after her.

"I have some on me," she said on her way out the door.

He looked at the door for a bit after she had shut it, and wondered not for the first time how he had gotten so ridiculously lucky.

"Was it something I said?" Toby asked.

Josh smiled to himself, remembering. "She wanted to give the four of us some time alone. She was saying before you got here that she felt weird because none of you were bringing your spouses --"

"I don't have a spouse to bring," Toby muttered.

"-- okay, because Sam and CJ weren't bringing their spouses, and she thought the 'inner circle,' as she called us, should have some time on our own without any 'outsiders.'"

"Susan had a DAR function tonight, she couldn't make it regardless," Sam said.

"And besides, Donna is hardly what I would call an 'outsider,'" CJ said. "She's
one of us."

"Believe me, guys, I already had this conversation with her, but I couldn't talk her out of it. You may recall that Donna has a tendency to decide what's best for me and then to go ahead and do it, regardless of my opinion on the matter."

"Yeah, but that's why she's the only woman who will ever be able to put up with
you," CJ said.

"I'm not gonna argue that," Josh said quickly.

"Well, I don't know if this is exactly what Donna had in mind, but now that we're
here, I probably should take advantage of the fact that I'm sitting in a room with
three of the finest political minds in the country," Sam said.

"Flatterer," CJ snorted.

He shot her a grin before continuing. "So what can I expect tomorrow night?"

Josh shrugged. "We're talking elite New York crowd, so...rich, liberal, not quite
as charitable as they like to think they are, but generous nonetheless. Very politically aware, very opinionated, and not afraid to tell you what they think you should be doing."

"So it will be a room full of Josh Lymans, is what you're saying," Sam said.

Josh tilted his head. "Pretty much."

"No wonder you're the head of the New York DNC."

"Talk about the blind leading the blind," CJ drawled.

"I prefer to think of it as an example of the cream rising to the top," Josh said.

"Mold does that too, you know," Toby said.

Josh spread his arms wide. "I feel the love, people! I feel the love!"

"Now that does feel like old times," CJ murmured.

Sam smiled at her. "It's like you said before, CJ. Some things never change."

*****

Sam smiled his way through yet another holding forth on Manhattan real estate
conditions by an aging socialite, and forced himself not to look at his watch. He
knew these fundraisers were necessary, and he knew he was very lucky that Josh had been able to put this together for him – had volunteered to put this together for him. Between Josh's extensive political network and Donna's non-profit connections from her position at Human Rights Watch, there was a broad spectrum of donors gathered at the Union Square W banquet room that Sam would never have been able to cobble together on his own.

Still, he was sick of hearing about Frank Gehry's latest development scheme to
revitalize Flushing.

He surreptitiously cast his eyes around the room, searching for familiar faces. He spotted Josh and Donna deep in conversation with a woman he was pretty sure was Donna Karan. Josh and Two Donnas, he thought, sounds like an indie film. Donna Moss must have just said something funny, because Josh and the other Donna threw their heads back in laughter, and Josh wrapped his arm around his wife's waist, pulling her close and squeezing her affectionately.

"They are quite the couple, aren't they?" the socialite said, intruding on this thoughts.

Sam didn't even bother trying to pretend he hadn't been looking over at them. "You're referring to Josh and Donna?"

"Yes, Joshua Lyman and Donnatella Moss, the darlings of the New York politico scene. They get their picture in the Intelligencer more often than I do. It's quite irritating."

"I'm sorry, the Intelligencer…?"

"Don't worry about it, darling." She cocked her head in the aforementioned couple's direction. "Hard to believe she used to be his assistant, isn't it? I always thought there was something vaguely kinky about that…me and everyone else, I'm sure." She smiled smugly and sipped from her drink.

Sam stiffened. "I'll have you know those are my friends you're talking about. And they –"

"Sam, how are you, buddy, good to see you, I need to talk to you, please excuse us." Sam found himself swept away by Hurricane Toby to halfway across the room.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, shaking him loose.

"Saving you from committing political suicide," Toby said.

"She was insinuating things about Josh and Donna," Sam said defensively.

"She wasn't the first and she won't be the last," Toby said gruffly. "Hell, you think Josh and Donna don't know that? Don't get noble on their behalf, Sam, they don't need your help in that department. Especially not if it pisses off a potential donor."

Sam let out a deep breath. "You're right. I was being stupid."

"Again, not the first time and won't be the last," Toby said. "Where's Susan?"

"I'm right here," came her voice from beside him. Sam looked down to see his
petite brunette wife, resplendent in a pewter Armani sheath, eyeing him warily.
"What windmills is he tilting at now?" she asked Toby.

"I think it's the 'defending a lady's honor even though she doesn't need any help' windmill," Toby said.

"Ah. That old canard." Susan bumped Sam's hip with hers. "Hey, Galahad. How about you forget the damsels in distress for a minute and take your wife out for a spin on the dance floor."

"I'd like nothing better," Sam said, with a final glare at Toby.

*****

"She really likes you," Josh said, making his way across the crowded ballroom with Donna by his side.

Donna glanced back at the designer. "What are you talking about? She's not –"

"I didn't say she's a lesbian, Donna," Josh said, snagging a blini from a silver tray being proffered at eye level, "I said she likes you."

"You think so? Really? Well, I like her too," Donna said, sounding defensive. "Do you think maybe she'll send me some free samples from her next collection?" she asked hopefully.

Josh looked over at her. "You'd better watch it, or the next thing you know you're hanging out in Paris as some dilettante designer's muse, smoking too many cigarettes and wearing see-through thongs as you strut down a fashion show runway." He paused. "Come to think of it, I kind of like that image. Let's go talk to her some more."

"Josh!" She laughed, grabbed his arm. "I'd settle for a free silk blazer."

"I'd rather see you in a thong."

"Maybe later."

"You're too good to me, Donnatella."

Over the years Donna had developed her own impressive rendition of the Lyman smirk. "Don't I know it."

*****

"Call it...call it...." Josh stood in front of the television set, knees bent, hands in the air, his entire body vibrating with anticipation as he waited for the exit poll announcement. Donna watched him from the couch, where she sat with her legs curled underneath her and snacked on a Krispy Kreme donut. Nothing like a sugar rush to get you through primary season.

The CNN announcer spoke into the camera. "And we are now prepared to call
the Iowa caucus for Congressman Sam Seaborn of California."

Josh whooped and shook his fists in the air; Donna leapt up from the couch and
cheered. "He did it!" Josh said. "The son of a bitch actually did it!"

The phone rang and Donna grabbed it while Josh continued to make an ass out
of himself, strutting around the living room. He was currently breaking out the
"We bad, we bad" routine from Stir Crazy. "Hello? Hi Toby! Yeah, we just saw on CNN. I know. I know! Congratulations. Well, you helped with those last debates, didn't you? Good enough." She swatted at Josh, who was now sticking his hand in her face, reaching for the phone. "Have you talked to Sam yet? Oh, okay. Yeah, he can call as late as he wants." She glared at her husband. "I don't think we'll be getting much sleep tonight anyway. Okay, hold on." She handed the receiver to Josh, who snatched it out of her hands and started whooping into the phone.

"I wonder if this is what Super Bowl widows feel like," Donna wondered aloud
to herself as she picked up another donut.

"No, you da man!" Josh was shouting into the phone. Donna curled her legs
beneath her on the couch again and settled in to watch the post-election analysis. It was going to be a long night.

*****

"Josh, I fail to understand how Sam's victory in the Michigan primary translates
to victory sex for you."

Josh tugged at Donna's panties, pulling them down her legs. "We're all in the
same party, Donna. His victory is our victory."

She lifted his t-shirt over his head and threw it on the floor next to the bed, ran
her hands over his shoulders. "So by that logic, we would be having victory sex
tonight regardless of who won, because it was a Democratic primary and therefore would have to have a Democratic winner no matter what."

"That is correct," he said, lowering his mouth to nip at her hip bones.

Donna settled back into the pillows and let out a happy sigh. "You know, I think
I'm okay with that."

*****

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay." Josh flipped his cell phone shut and threw it down on the table in front of him. "Shit."

"What's going on?" Donna asked, not looking up from the Sunday style section.

"It's happening."

At that she did look up from the paper. "Sam?"

"Yeah."

"The thing? With whatshername?"

"I think her name was Laurie, not that it matters. But yeah."

"Crap."

"Yeah." He looked around the café, paranoia kicking in as he surveyed his
fellow patrons before continuing. He needn't have worried; Donna had dragged
him down to the Village for the afternoon so he was surrounded by nothing but
hipster doofuses. "It's going to be in the Daily News tomorrow."

"The Daily News? How did they get it of all people?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, waved off the waitress when she approached with more coffee. Donna sat forward, leaning closer to him, waiting for the inevitable. "Look, Donna –"

"I know," she said quietly.

"No one can make this go away faster or easier than I can," Josh said.

"I know."

"He needs me."

"Josh, I said I know."

He stopped, gave her his full attention. The look on her face killed him, but he knew he was right on this. He reached across the table to take her hand. "It would be a few weeks, tops. I promise. Look at it as a great phone sex opportunity," he said, giving her his best grin.

A smile played at the corners of her mouth but didn't quite go any further. "I have that thing in two weeks," she said.

Damn. He squeezed her hand tighter. "What's the date?"

"The 18th."

"I'll be here."

"It's not a big deal, I can probably get Jane or somebody else to take me –"

"Donna," he said insistently. She met his eyes, and he tried to put all of the
reassurance he could into his gaze. "I'll be here. Even if I have to just fly in
for the day to do it."

She nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

"Don't thank –" He stopped, leaned over the table to give her a swift kiss. "I
love you," he said, not sure what else there was to say.

"I know. Me too."

"It's just for a couple of weeks."

"I know. Look, we should probably get going so we can check on flights for you," she said, packing up the newspaper and getting up from the table.

He looked at her for a beat before grabbing his phone. "Yeah."

*****

"They should be able to call Florida by now," Sam said, pacing the floor of
the hotel suite. "Shouldn't they be able to call Florida by now?"

"Patience, young grasshopper," Toby said from his chair in the corner, where
he puffed on a cigar in a leisurely manner that belied his own obvious unease.

"Easy for you to say," Sam muttered.

"Sam," Susan chided him. "We're all a little on edge. I'm sure they'll be calling
Florida any minute now…"

"We got Florida, Sam," Josh said confidently. "No way we didn't get Florida.
The blue-hairs love you. Stop worrying about it."

"Well, I'm glad no one's, you know, nervous or anything. Say, does anyone here besides me remember that I'm waiting to find out if I'm going to be the next President of the United States?" Sam shouted. From the back of the room, someone tentatively raised her hand. "Thanks, Donna."

"They're calling Florida!" yelled Bill Doleman, Sam's press secretary, from where
he stood in front of the TV set. Everyone turned their attention to CNN.

"We are ready to call Florida for Congressman Sam Seaborn…"

The room erupted in cheers. Sam stood still, numb with shock, as the revelry raged around him.

He had never been so terrified in his life.

*****

"Are you going to use the same desk Bartlet used in the Oval?" Josh asked, popping peanuts into his mouth.

"I haven't really gotten around to making those sorts of pressing decisions yet, Josh," Sam said. "I'm concentrating on silly inconsequential stuff, like putting my cabinet together."

"Yeah, but you're doing a great job with that so far."

"I still need a chief of staff." Sam looked at Josh meaningfully.

Josh stopped chewing for a second, then continued. "What about Toby?"

Sam paused for a beat. "If you turn me down, Toby is my next choice. But the person I really want for the position is you. And that's without even taking into consideration the fact that you're probably the most qualified person in the country for the job."

Josh rattled the ice in his glass of vodka tonic. "Sam, we went through this already when you asked me to be your campaign manager."

"Yeah, but you said no then because you and Donna were thinking of having kids, and that was almost a year ago so I figured you changed your mind --"

"It's not for lack of trying," Josh said shortly.

Sam raised his eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Sam, that we're having some...issues." Josh waved his hands abstractly.

Sam grinned. "Your boys can't swim?"

"There's nothing wrong with my boys!" Josh yelled, his voice getting high on the
last word. "At least...we're waiting to get test results on that to make sure. But no, they think the issue is with Donna."

"God," Sam said.

"Yeah."

"How is she handling it?"

"A midwestern Protestant girl with a million nieces and nephews and a maternal
streak a mile wide? How do you think she's handling it?"

"Right." Sam paused, then proceeded cautiously. "Look, Josh, you know I wouldn't ask you unless it meant...unless it meant everything, to me. There's no one in the world I would rather have by my side. I mean it."

"I know you do," Josh murmured. "And I appreciate that. And if the tables were turned, you would be my first phone call, too. But...I just don't know."

"Promise me that you'll think about it? That you'll talk it over with Donna and
give it some thought before you make a final decision?"

Josh looked at his friend, then sighed. "Yeah. Okay. I will."

"Thanks." Sam raised his glass. "To old friends."

"To old friends."

*****

"I can't believe you're even considering this," Donna said. She folded her arms
over the blue Barnard nightshirt she was wearing. "We've been over this already, Josh!"

Josh paced the floor of their bedroom, clad in boxers and a faded gray t-shirt, and tried to make his wife understand. "That was different. That was campaigning. This -- this is the real thing, Donna. I'd be back where it matters, making things happen, having a real effect on policy. And considering the hell in a handbasket this country has gone to over the past eight years, there are a lot of changes just waiting to be made."

"But why do you have to be the one to make them?"

"Because..." He stopped pacing and looked at her. "Because he asked me, Donna. Because he's my best friend and he's the President-elect of the United States and he asked me."

She looked down at the floor, spots of color forming on her cheeks. "Does this
mean you don't want to have kids anymore?" she whispered.

"Of course it doesn't! You know I do."

She looked back up at him. "Then how can you even be thinking about this?
You'd essentially miss the first few years of your child's life! Is that how you
want to raise a family?"

"You know it's not. But..." He trailed off, unsure how to say it without it
being a knife in her heart.

"But what?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, and when
he spoke, it was as gently as he could. "Donna, we both know that there's no
guarantee we'll be able to have a baby any time soon." He raised his hands to
stop her when she opened her mouth to respond, silently pleaded with her to
hear him out. "We agreed to give the fertility stuff three years before we decided to adopt, and we still have two more years left on that. God knows I hope we get pregnant before then, but if we can't -- if we don't -- then the adoption process takes so long that even if that were to happen -- Donna, it could easily be another four or five years before we have a child, whether he's ours or someone else's. And even that number isn't guaranteed."

His heart broke at the look in her eyes as that sank in, and he wanted nothing
more than to go to her, to hold her, but he stood still and waited as she formulated a response.

"But we..." She blinked fast to ward off tears, put the back of her hand to her
mouth. "But we could, Josh. We could have a baby within the next two years.
And even if we -- even if we don't have a child for the next four or five years,
or ever, even so -- Josh, what about us?"

"What do you mean?"

She placed her hand on her heart. "You know what happened to Leo's marriage
because of his job. You were there. You saw what that did to him. Do you want to risk that happening to us?"

"I'm not Leo," he protested, his throat thick with emotion.

"No, you're just the guy who was unable to sustain any kind of functional romantic relationship for the entire duration of the Bartlet presidency."

"That was because I was in love with you but too stupid to admit it," he countered.

She shot him a look. "Don't play dirty, Josh. We both know that's not the only reason. Your job had as much to do with it as anything else."

He paused, thinking about it. "Maybe. But being crazy about you had a little bit
to do with it, too." He stepped close to her, cautiously wrapped his arms around
her waist. She averted her eyes from his, but he could tell she was trying her best not to smile. His heart eased with relief.

"You're changing the subject," she said.

"I know." He bent his head and kissed her neck, flickering his tongue over the
sensitive skin just below her ear, the way he knew she liked it. "But thinking
about all the time we wasted always makes me want to make up for it as much
as possible." He slipped his hand underneath the hem of her nightshirt.

"We're not done talking about this," Donna warned him as she leaned into his
touch.

"Plenty of time for talking later," he murmured. He swooped her up into his
arms and carried her to their bed.

*****

"Donna, that dress is gorgeous! Who's the designer?"

"Donna Karan," she said, twirling so that CJ could get the full effect of the
midnight blue satin. Josh grinned at her affectionately. Donna had been acting
like the belle of the ball all evening, entirely too proud of her new designer duds.

"Nice," CJ said approvingly. "Off the rack or couture?"

"Couture."

CJ's eyes widened. "How much did you pay for that dress, Donna?"

Donna inclined her head with a satisfied smile. "Let's just say I got it for a
very good discount."

"I'm impressed."

"Donna Karan likes me," Donna explained. "Um, not in a sexual way, though."

"Got it. So, Joshua," CJ said, turning to him, "Toby told me you turned down
the chief of staff gig."

"Yeah," he said noncommittally. He could feel Donna looking at him.

"I have to admit, I was surprised when I heard you said no," CJ said. "It seems
like such a natural fit. Not that Toby won't do a good job, obviously, but
you were always just a tiny bit better at the schmoozing than Toby was."

"A drunken water buffalo would be better at the schmoozing than Toby is,"
Josh cracked.

CJ smiled. "All the more reason for you to step up, mi compadre."

"Look, CJ…" Josh trailed off, looked over at his wife. "Let's just say that after
many, many hours of spirited debate and uncomfortable soul-searching, I decided there were things more important than spending another four to eight years in the White House." Donna gave him a huge smile and he realized he was definitely making the right decision, because only a fool would prevent Donnatella Moss from wielding that smile as often as humanly possible. He reached down and took Donna's hand, squeezed it.

"Okay, Josh, I'll shut up now," CJ was saying. "I didn't mean to pry."

"We're trying to have a baby," Donna said. Josh clapped a hand over his face.
So much for subtlety.

CJ blinked. "But that's wonderful!" she exclaimed.

"Not yet it isn't," Donna said tightly. "But we're hoping for the best."

"Well, if there's anything I can do..." CJ trailed off. "That didn't sound at
all appropriate, did it."

"Not really, CJ, but we'll keep it in mind," Josh quipped, then flinched when
she tried to elbow him.

"They're starting," Donna said suddenly, and they all turned their attention to
the stage, where Sam was approaching the podium to thunderous applause.

Josh smiled so widely his cheeks hurt. "This is gonna be great," he said.

end.

One more author's note: I'm slightly enamored of the idea of Josh and Donna
as this New York power couple. If you are too and want to see more, let me
know. Thanks!