Donna Moss took yet another long look around her work area, making certain that she'd organized her files and Josh's various schedules in as clear a manner as possible for the woman who was taking over her job on Monday. She'd been over it at least a million times by now, and was still convinced she was forgetting something. She knew she was going to receive a panicked phone call from Josh on Monday morning, pummeling her with questions only she could answer.

Maybe this was a mistake after all.

No. She took a deep breath. She was doing the right thing.

She hoped.

"Donna! I just came over to say good-bye and to see how you're doing on your last day."

Donna looked up to see one of the White House switchboard operators standing by her desk. "Jeannie! I'm so glad you came by. I'm good. Going crazy trying to get everything done, but good."

"Now, I heard you're going to a non-profit but didn't know where exactly," Jeannie said, adjusting her black-rimmed glasses and folding her arms over her ample chest.

"It's Project Polaris -- it's an organization dedicated to combating the trafficking of women and children," Donna explained. "I'm going to be their congressional liaison."

"Well, that's wonderful." The older woman enveloped her in a warm hug. "We're all so proud of you, Donna. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Donna said sincerely. She'd been overwhelmed by the outpouring of support she'd received over the course of the day; it seemed that hardly five minutes went by without another White House employee stopping by to wish her well. It was flattering and humbling all at once.

She watched Jeannie leave, and when she turned back Josh was standing in the doorway of his office.

"More well-wishers?" he asked. "You've been popular today."

"That was Jeannie from switchboard. I'm sorry about all the visitors. I hope it hasn't been too distracting."

"No, no problem," he said with an unreadable look. "I think it's nice. People like you, Donna."

She wasn't sure how to respond to that. "Let's hope they feel the same way at Polaris."

"They don't stand a chance," he said.

Donna ducked her head, embarrassed, and changed the subject. "I think I finally have everything set up for Linda on Monday. If she has any questions --"

"Then we'll ask Margaret. Or Ginger. It'll be fine," he said with a bravado she saw through immediately.

"I'm going to get my first panicked phone call at 9:01 AM Monday morning, aren't I."

"Probably," he agreed. "Hey, Charlie," he greeted the young man coming down the corridor, "You're coming tonight, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Charlie said. "I even got the president to let me leave early. Speaking of which..." He stopped in front of Donna. "The president is asking to see you."

"The president wants to see me?" Well, that came out awfully squeaky.

"He just wants to say good-bye, Donna," Josh said reassuringly. He smiled at her. "Go with Charlie. It's not a good idea to keep the president waiting."

She let Charlie hustle her off. She chanced a look back over her shoulder and Josh was still standing there, watching her go.

*****

"And then he gave me this," Donna said, and opened the velvet blue box.

The magnifying glass nestled within was an antique, with a solid pewter handle and a 24 karat gold rim around the edge of the glass that twinkled in the soft lighting of the bar.

"Oh my god. It's beautiful," CJ said, delicately running her finger down the handle. "Did he say why he was giving it to you?"

Donna smiled shyly. "He said that I have a gift for seeing what isn't there, for looking beyond the surface of things to grasp the meaning within. So the magnifying glass felt appropriate." She shrugged. "He said it was either this or a microscope."

The gathered White House staffers laughed, and Donna passed the box down the table so everyone could have a look. Donna had somehow wound up at the senior staff end of the table, with various assistants down at the other end. It made her uncomfortable but she supposed she should start getting used to it; at her new job she would have an assistant rather than be one.

"He's such an old softie," CJ said.

"Don't let him hear you say that," Toby advised.

"What am I, a crazy woman?"

"Yes."

"Thanks."

Donna laughed and looked over at Josh, who sat across from her nursing a beer. He had been uncharacteristically quiet this evening, and she was worried that left to his own devices, quiet would turn into maudlin. If he started to get maudlin she didn't know what she would do. Start crying hysterically, probably, and that would be bad. "How many beers is that, Josh?" she asked, prodding him out of his reverie.

"Only my second," he said defensively, taking a swig.

"You took a cab in this morning, right, you're not driving home?"

"Yes, Donna, I took a cab. You know, it's not your job to look after me anymore." Was that an edge of bitterness in his voice? He'd been so supportive ever since she announced she was leaving -- she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I'm not doing it because it's my job," she said quietly.

"I know," he murmured back.

Their eyes locked until Josh broke it off, standing up abruptly and raising his glass. "I'd like to make a toast," he shouted, and waited for the impromptu applause that followed to die down.

"This should be good," Toby said under his breath.

Donna didn't know where to look. At Josh, down at the table, over at her friends? She wasn't used to being the center of attention and wasn't sure she liked it. She settled for looking at Josh but not meeting his eyes, treating him like a performer on stage.

"A toast," Josh continued, and of course he was loving being the center of attention, his chest puffed out and he quickly warmed to his topic, "to the most infuriating, maddening, exasperating, aggravating, loopy, insane, mind-boggling..."

"Someone memorized the thesaurus before coming here," Toby muttered.

Josh spared Toby a glare but then looked at Donna before continuing. "...bewildering, generous, giving, intelligent, accomplished, astounding, remarkable woman it has ever been my pleasure -- and my pain -- to know."

The table erupted in applause and cheers, but Josh and Donna were quiet, looking at each other. She realized she was desperately hoping he would be the last one to leave tonight, so they would have some time alone together. Fortunately, she had a feeling he was thinking the same thing.

After all, they both knew, even if they hadn't acknowledged it aloud to each other, not yet, that career advancement was not the only reason she had decided to stop being his assistant. At least -- she was pretty sure he knew, too. She had to stop herself from crossing her fingers under the table like a kindergartener.

"Hey CJ," Carol called from the other end of the table. "I just found out the jukebox here has 'The Jackal.'"

Donna raised her eyebrows at CJ hopefully.

CJ grinned back, then shrugged her shoulders. "Why not. Start it up."

*****

"I'll call you," Donna promised Bonnie and Ginger as she hugged each of them in turn. "Good night." She watched them go, then turned back to the table.

She and Josh were the only ones left.

Funny how that worked out.

She took her seat across from him and touched the blue box that held the magnifying glass. "I can't believe I got a gift from the president," she said. "I'm sure the shock will wear off any decade now."

"Like I said, Donna, people like you." He looked at her for a beat. "Would you like your present from the president's deputy chief of staff?"

Her mouth dropped open. "Josh, I --"

Before she could continue he put a small white box on the table between them. "I didn't want to give it to you in front of everybody, too embarrassing." He gestured at the box with his chin. "Go ahead, open it."

She carefully picked up the box and held it to her ear.

"What are you doing?"

"I just want to make sure it's not ticking."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but no, I couldn't get the pipe bomb past White House security."

She grinned and opened the box. Inside was a modest-sized tiger-eye pendant, a rich brown stone with lighter brown and golden bands crisscrossing the surface.

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

"There's a first," he muttered.

"Where did you get this?"

"I went to one of those flaky stores in Georgetown that you like, proceeded to humiliate myself by asking the hairy feminista behind the counter for help finding something. Thanks to you I now know entirely more than I ever wanted to know about checkers."

"Checkers?"

"What?"

"You just said you now know about 'checkers.'"

"Oh." He tried to process that. "I meant chakras."

"Ah."

"I'm a little drunk," he apologized.

"I can see that."

"Anyway..." He gestured to the pendant. "She said that tiger eye -- that's what that is, tiger eye -- gives the wearer courage and luck." He shrugged. "I don't know whether you'll actually need either of those things, but I figured it couldn't hurt in this town. Plus I liked the stone, all the other ones she was showing me were too...girly."

"I am a girl, Josh, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, but I'm not," he said, as if that explained everything.

She suppressed a laugh, touched the pendant with her finger. "It's beautiful, Josh. I love it. Thank you." She wanted nothing more than to get up and give him a hug, and any other time, she would have, but for some reason it just didn't feel right at the moment. Like it would be too much and yet not enough all at the same time.

He seemed to sense it, too. "Ready to get out of here? Want to share a cab?" he asked.

"Sure."

*****

The cab dropped her off first, and when they reached her building Josh told the driver to wait a minute, then got out and walked her to her door.

"Thanks for tonight, Josh," she said as she took her keys out of her purse. "For arranging the bar thing, for the necklace...it was very sweet of you."

She expected a snarky response to her calling him sweet, but instead he just said, "You're welcome."

They stood there uncomfortably for a moment.

"Donna, I --"

"Yes?" she said, wincing at how eager she sounded.

"Good luck on Monday."

She tried to smile. "Thanks."

"Will you call me? Let me know how it's going?"

"As if you're not going to be calling me all day?"

"Right."

"Remember you have senior staff at 8 AM on Monday."

"I'll remember."

"And please take it easy on Linda, for her first day at least."

"I'll try."

"Okay. Well...good night."

"Good night."

She was about to turn away from him when he leaned in and kissed her.

It was a gentle kiss, tender and warm, almost chaste. He didn't even try to slip her some tongue. It was just his lips on hers, a sweet pressure that sent butterflies rampaging in her stomach.

So he did understand, after all, part of why she left.

"Was that okay?" he whispered when it was over.

She tried to speak, couldn't. So she just nodded dumbly.

He rightly took that as an invitation to kiss her again.

This time tongues were involved, which made it ever so much nicer, although she knew she would hold the memory of that first chaste kiss in her memory for the rest of her life. But this -- this was Josh's tongue sliding against hers, this was Josh tasting of beer and the bourbon chaser he'd ordered afterward, this was Josh making a sound of arousal deep in his throat as his hands moved to --

Oh god. She pulled away. "Josh, you're drunk."

She tried to ignore the hurt look in his eyes. "Donna, that's not why I --"

"I know," she said quickly. "I know it's not. But I don't want things to happen like this, Josh. I don't want it to be because you're drunk and depressed on my last day of working for you." She held his eyes with her own, pleading with him to understand in spite of his drunken haze of confusion.

He paused, the mental gears turning slowly. Very slowly. "Yeah," he said finally. "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Josh," she said honestly. "I had a wonderful time tonight. Why don't you go home and get some sleep."

"Okay." He started to walk away, then stopped to look back at her. "I can call you, right?"

She smiled and nodded. "Good night, Josh."

"Good night, Donnatella."

She waited until he was back in the cab and the driver pulled away before she unlocked the door.

*****

"Donna, there's someone here to see you," her assistant Randy said.

Donna looked up from the pile of correspondence she'd been plowing through to help familiarize herself with her new duties. "It's my first day, I don't have any meetings scheduled --"

"I think it's personal," Randy said, with a knowing grin. "And I wouldn't keep him waiting if I were you." Donna rolled her eyes. She and Randy had hit it off entirely too well entirely too fast, and as a result she was taking crap from him already. She had to admit she was enjoying it immensely.

"Okay," she said, intrigued. "Send him in."

She wasn't totally surprised to see Josh Lyman walk into her office, although she was surprised that he was carrying flowers.

"Hey," he said by way of greeting. He looked around her new work space. "Your office is smaller than mine."

"Does that make you feel superior, Josh?"

"Just a little bit, yes." He handed her the flowers. "These are for you."

She got up and took them from him. "Thank you, they're beautiful." Daisies. She wasn't sure how to interpret that. You brought your Aunt Erma daisies for Easter. "Randy?" He appeared in the doorway so quickly that she knew he must have been eavesdropping. "Could you put these in some water, please?" she asked him.

"My pleasure," he said, taking them from her. He looked over his shoulder and gave her a thumbs-up as he left.

"That should keep him busy for a while," she remarked.

"You have an overly familiar assistant?" Josh asked, deadpan. "I have absolutely no idea what that must be like."

"You're hilarious. You should be on Letterman."

"That's what all the ladies tell me."

"Josh, why are you here? It's the middle of the afternoon and I know for a fact that you have a million things to do today."

He sat on the edge of her desk. "I had Linda make some calls, cancel a couple of meetings for me. I think Senator Harbage might have made her cry."

"Oh, Josh," she said in disgust.

"Yeah, I know. I'm a tyrant. So listen," he said, changing the subject with a speed she usually only witnessed in herself, "I was wondering if you would have dinner with me Friday night."

She looked up at him suspiciously. "Why? Do you need me to act as a beard at a state function or something?"

"What?" he croaked. "No, Donna, god. Would I do that to you? Wait -- don't answer that."

"Oh, I won't, believe me."

"Seriously, I don't need you to be a beard, or a dupe, or any of those things." His eyes softened. "I just want to take you out to dinner."

"Like a...date?"

He looked down at the floor. "Yeah. I mean, I guess. If that's what you want to call it."

"Okay."

His head jerked up. "What?"

"I said okay, Joshua." She looked down at her watch. "To tell the truth, I'm just surprised it took you this long."

Oh, she really loved his dimples when he smiled like that.

*****

She was entirely too nervous, and it was pissing her off.

After all, it wasn't like she had any reason to be nervous. She'd been on lots of dates before -- lots of dates, in fact she really didn't want to dwell on that too much right now because it was just too depressing -- so there was no good reason for the current sensation of gerbils participating in a cage match in her stomach.

Oh, who was she kidding. She knew why she was nervous. She was nervous because this wasn't like any date she'd ever been on before. This was a date with Josh Lyman.

This was unprecedented and quite frankly terrifying.

She shimmied out of the third dress she'd tried on that evening and took a swig of red wine from a plastic cup. She'd resorted to alcohol for fortification, that was the state she had reached. Absolutely pathetic, Donna Moss.

She went back to the first dress she'd tried on, which she'd known from the beginning was the best choice but she'd had to try on a couple of others too just to convince herself. It was black, cut a couple of inches above the knee, with thin straps and a slightly cowled neckline. Simple but pretty, and sexed up a bit with her new strappy black sandals. She left her hair down, put on some makeup but not so much that it really looked like she was, you know, trying, and was pondering what jewelry to wear when her gaze fell on the tiger eye pendant on her night stand.

"Courage and luck, huh? I could use a little of both tonight," she muttered under her breath.

She was ready by the time the doorbell rang, which was a good thing because she hated women who made guys wait for them before a date as some sort of power trip. Maybe some men found it an intoxicating hard-to-get tactic, but she suspected most men found it merely annoying, and absentmindedly wondered if there was any research to back that up.

Besides, she knew Josh did.

She opened the door and there he was, leaning against the doorjamb, wearing a white button down shirt and khakis and holding one long-stemmed red rose in his hand. He must have just showered because his hair was slightly damp and he still smelled like his shampoo, and she was touched at the thought that he did that for her.

And wow, did he look great.

"You look great," Josh said, echoing her own thoughts. They stared at each other for a minute, taking each other in, and Donna could feel her heart speed up just a little. We are totally ending up in bed together when this night is over, she realized. The gerbils in her stomach did some kung fu.

He broke her reverie by standing up straight and handing her the rose. "Charlie said I should give this to you. I've been assured that in spite of being a cliche it is nonetheless nearly 100% effective with women of all ages."

She grinned. "Charlie gave me a rose?"

"Cut me some slack here, Donna, I am attempting to pitch some woo and we both know I'm just the slightest bit out of practice in that area."

"Charlie is a wise and sweet man," Donna said, and stepped back to allow him into her apartment. "Wait just one second, I'm going to put this in some water." She headed for the kitchen.

"I am so glad you're done with your girly stuff and ready to go," he said from behind her.

*****

He took her to a bistro in Adams Morgan, where they were seated in the backdoor garden. Electric lamps and candlelight cast a warm glow on the marble-topped tables and eclectically mixed chairs, some traditional straight-backed, some large and cushioned, others straight out of a painting of a Parisian cafe. It was just the kind of place she loved. "I've been wanting to come here for months, Josh, this is perfect," she said, surprised and touched.

"Yeah, I remembered you mentioning it a while back."

"You did?"

"Yeah."

"Really? You remembered that?"

"Yeah," he said defensively. "Why is that so hard to believe? Mind like a steel trap, Donna."

She snorted but let the statement slide. "I just didn't think you listened to me that closely is all. You always took such great delight in completely ignoring me."

"Well." He took a swallow of ice water. "That's not entirely true. It's not entirely false, either, but I can assure you I listened to you a lot more than I ever let on. I just didn't want you to get too full of yourself."

"Really," she said skeptically.

"Yeah, I pay too much attention to all of your prattling and the next thing I know you're coming up with hare-brained schemes for everything from paying off the deficit to protecting the spotted owl." He paused. "Oh wait, you did all those things anyway. I guess my plan didn't work."

"You really know how to make a girl feel special, Josh."

"Tell me something I don't know."

She rolled her eyes and picked up the menu, scanning the list of entrees. She could feel him looking at her but she kept her gaze firmly on the description of cassoulet. She loved cassoulet but didn't think a dish mostly consisting of beans was really the way to go tonight...

"I do listen to you, Donna," he said quietly. "I always have."

She looked up at him and was taken aback at the vulnerability she saw in his expression. It occurred to her that she was not the only one fumbling her way through this evening, through this new dynamic they seemed to be creating. "I know you do, Josh," she assured him.

He held her gaze for a moment longer, then grinned. "We're on a date," he said, sounding like a kid at the circus.

"Yes, we are."

"Isn't that weird?"

"Getting weirder by the second apparently."

"We should order some wine."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Because that's what people do when they're on dates."

"I seem to remember something like that, yes."

"And this is in fact a date."

"Last time I checked," she agreed.

That smug grin of his that she simultaneously loved and loathed made an appearance and he reached for the wine list. "Red or white?"

"Well I had red before I came here so maybe..."

"You what?"

"I had red wine before, while I was getting dressed." Uh oh.

"You had to drink in order to get up the nerve to go out with me?" he asked incredulously.

"I had one glass of merlot, Josh, I wasn't gulping down moonshine to gird my loins or anything."

"Gird your loins?"

"Wow, that was really girly, the way your voice went up at the end there."

"You really know how to pile on the romance, don't you, Donna."

"Oh for god's sake, Josh, just order the wine. Get us some chardonnay or something."

"Do you really think mixing drinks is a good idea?"

"What?"

"You started out drinking red, maybe you should stick with red. Like beer before liquor, never sicker, that sort of thing."

"I don't think that applies to different kinds of wine."

"Famous last words, Donna, famous last words."

She shook her head in exasperation. "You're the most irritating man in Washington, you know that?" She realized she was grinning, and had been for a while now. He was grinning back, too.

Good god, this was going to be, like, foreplay for them now. "Just order the wine."

He did.

*****

The remainder of their meal was pleasant if uneventful; they fell into their old patterns of talking about the latest political dirt, what the administration wanted to highlight in the next news cycle, how various members of the West Wing were spending their weekends. For a while it was as if they were enjoying just another lunch at Josh's desk in the middle of a workday.

Until the plates were cleared and he reached over to take her hand, anyway.

For some reason she felt the need to ignore that he was running his thumb over the backs of her fingers. "So you haven't told me how things are going with Linda," she said.

"Fine," he said quickly. "No problems."

"You're lying."

"Yes I am."

"It's the filing system, isn't it. I knew that was going to be an issue --"

"Donna," he cut in. She looked at him inquiringly. "I don't think I want to talk about work anymore."

"Okay," she said, caught off-guard. "Sure."

He lifted her hand and held it between both of his, lacing their fingers together. "Do you want to get dessert?"

She thought about it. "You know what would be fun? If we just got some ice cream and walked around for a while. It's such a gorgeous night."

"Great. You, me, and a bunch of drunken frat boys. Sounds like a blast."

"Josh, this isn't Georgetown, this is Adams Morgan."

"My mistake." He sniffed. "You, me, and a bunch of over-privileged twentysomethings pounding back vodka and Red Bull."

"I want ice cream, Joshua."

"Okay, okay, just don't say I never gave you anything."

*****

"I can't believe you got vanilla," she said later.

"What, I like vanilla. Vanilla is good. It's a classic. It's the Babe Ruth of ice cream flavors."

Donna rolled her eyes. "It's the Michael Dukakis of ice cream flavors. No personality."

"I can't believe you just insulted a New England Democrat," he said. "Besides, I wasn't the one driving that poor scooper girl crazy by asking to sample every flavor they had in the store before making a decision."

"It was only three flavors, and I wanted to make sure I was choosing the best one! Ice cream selection is not something to be taken lightly, Josh." She took another lick of her coffee almond fudge, which really had been the right choice. There was nothing worse than craving ice cream and then getting the completely wrong flavor for that particular situation and then being left unsatisfied.

She didn't plan on being left unsatisfied at all tonight.

She smiled to herself at the thought and took another strong lick from her ice cream cone. As she swallowed she noticed Josh staring at her, his lips parted. She stopped walking. "What's the matter?"

"I uh...I'm just really enjoying watching you eat that ice cream cone," he said hoarsely.

Oh, the licking. God, men were predictable. She decided to give him another thrill and took another slow, long lick off of the cone, making a furrow in the ice cream with her tongue. She could actually hear him gulp.

"Do you want to try some?" she asked, and hoped he realized she wasn't talking about the ice cream.

He nodded and leaned over to kiss her. The shock of cold ice cream meeting warm tongues was quite possibly the most sensual experience she'd had in a very long time. He deepened the kiss, pulling her close and pressing his body against hers. She placed one hand on the side of his neck, kept the other apart from their bodies, holding the ice cream cone aloft.

A girl had to have her priorities.

The long, deep kiss tapered off into lots of small, gentle kisses, their lips barely meeting again and again. "I like kissing you when I'm sober," he whispered against her mouth.

"Good thing you only had one glass of wine at dinner," she teased.

He laughed softly, then ran his hands down her sides, rested them on her hips. His cup of ice cream, she noted, had fallen to the ground in the midst of their embrace. Too bad for him, she thought. She took a lick off the cone, then kissed him again, letting him taste the coffee almond fudge. His hands traveled over her back, her hips, dangerously close to her breasts. She could feel her breathing become ragged when he nuzzled her neck.

"Take me home, Josh," she murmured.

"So soon? It's early --"

"I asked you to take me home, not drop me off and leave."

"Oh." He smiled in understanding.

"Is that okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes impossibly dark in the moonlight. "I'm just surprised it took you this long."

*****

Needless to say, they made it back to her apartment in record time.

When they walked in, Donna busied herself with turning on the lights, putting down her purse, stowing her keys, all the little things she did every time she walked into her apartment. She was painfully conscious of the way Josh was just standing in the middle of her living room, watching her. She decided to revert to a safe place: Midwestern hospitality. "Um, do you want anything? Coffee, wine --"

"No," he said quickly, hands in his pockets. "Unless you wanted..."

"No."

"Donna."

"Yes?"

"Come here." He held out his hand.

She went to him, let him pull her close and kiss her. His hands went to either side of her face and he held her there, and she knew it was his way of saying this is where I want you to be.

For once she wasn't going to argue with him.

They kissed for a long time, things getting increasingly more passionate, their breath growing harsher and louder as time went on. When their lips finally parted he kept his hands on her face, rained kisses on her forehead, nose, eyelids. "Should we move this to the bedroom?" he whispered against her ear.

She nodded, feeling a rush of panic even though she'd been the one to invite him back, even though she'd known this was where their evening was heading from the minute she'd answered her door. Since the day they'd met, even. She tamped down the anxiety and took his hand as she led him down the hallway off the living room.

She'd put fresh sheets on the bed that morning and cleaned up perfunctorily, stashing unlaundered clothes and potentially embarrassing reading material out of sight. The room smelled of clean cotton and various perfumes; she always had trouble deciding on one scent she liked best and so the top of her dresser was littered with glass and plastic bottles. She let go of his hand and lit the fig candles she kept on her night stand. "The fig was Cleopatra's favorite fruit, you know," she said. "Figs are very good for you, they're high in antioxidants but I can't really say that I eat them, I just like the way they smell. Although fig newtons are good, not that I've had them in years, but..."

"Donna." He sounded exasperated, but he was grinning.

She stopped talking, watched him as he came closer. "Right. Sorry."

They stood across from each other in the confines of her bedroom, studiously ignoring the bed, which suddenly seemed much bigger than the modest double it was. The way Josh was looking at her made the gerbils in her stomach shiver, and she took in a shaky breath, willing her hands to stop trembling. She wiped her sweaty palms on her dress and hoped he wouldn't notice how nervous she was.

"Why are you so nervous?" he asked softly.

She should have known better. "Aren't you?"

He smiled in a way that could definitely be categorized as, well, nervous. "Yeah."

She felt her shoulders relax a fraction. "Thank god."

They shared a self-conscious grin, then he reached out and touched the side of her face, leaned in for a kiss. She met him halfway, grateful that this, at least, had started to become familiar. The kiss started out slow, his tongue leisurely exploring her mouth, and she knew he was taking his time about it to make them both feel more at ease, to get used to interacting in this new way.

And it seemed to be working, because before too long she found herself running her hands over his shoulders and up into his hair as she pulled him closer. His body lined up against hers and the heat from his body was comforting and arousing all at once. His mouth moved to her neck, his hand to her breast. She gasped as he ran his thumb gently over her nipple, raising it up through the fabric of her dress. His lips traveled down her neck to her shoulder, his nose nuzzling the spaghetti strap, his tongue leaving soft wet trails on her skin.

Her knees almost buckled when he started to unzip her dress. The sound of the zipper seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet of the bedroom. He slid the dress off of her slowly, letting it fall to the floor. She stood there in a black lace bra and panties and her strappy sandals and had a feeling she probably looked pretty damn good.

This was borne out when he gulped audibly, looking at her. "Wow," he whispered. He ran his hands reverently over her breasts, her stomach, her hips, her thighs. He bent his knees and traced a path down her body with his mouth, stopping briefly at the valley between her breasts, at her belly button, then he helped her out of her shoes and kissed his way back up, with a detour at her thighs and ending back at her chest. His tongue flickered over the lace cup of her bra and she moaned involuntarily, arching her back to push her breasts toward him. He took that as an invitation to unhook the bra, sliding it down her arms until it fell to the floor. He caressed her breasts, cupping them in his hands, and then he lowered his head again, lavishing attention on her nipples, moving from one to the other, gently worrying at them with lips and teeth.

Donna ran her fingers through his hair, thinking that she would have no problem staying just like this for the rest of her life, with his hands warm against her back and his soft mouth playing at her breasts. But then she decided that even more than that she needed to feel him skin against skin, and she reached for the buttons on his shirt.

He stopped what he was doing, leaving her wet nipples cool in the air conditioned bedroom, and helped her take his shirt off. She ran her hands over his bare chest, down his abdomen, tracing the livid scar there.

"I know, it's awful," he said under his breath.

"No it's not," she whispered. "It's beautiful. It means you're alive."

He smiled at her. "You're beautiful."

"You're just saying that because you're hoping to get lucky."

"Seems to be working so far."

She laughed and reached for his belt, undoing it quickly, then unzipping his pants. She pulled them down with efficient movements, helped him step out of them, then did the same with his shoes and socks. She stood back up, very close to him, and gently placed her hand over his crotch, feeling him through the thin material of his boxers. He took in a sharp breath and his hips bucked against her, reacting to her touch.

She started to stroke him gently through the fabric, but he took control again, backing her toward the bed until she lay down and then covering her body with his own. They kissed again, tongues dueling, their hands traveling over each other's bodies, learning the terrain. She ran her hands over his shoulders, his chest, his arms, marveling at hard muscle encased by soft skin. After a while his mouth moved to her neck, then returned to her breasts, teasing the hardened nipples with his tongue, moving leisurely from one to the other until she was practically writhing beneath him, her pelvis rising up of its own volition against him. She was moaning now, unable to help herself. She had thought she would be self-conscious, responding like this in front of Josh, but now that she was here and he was making her feel this way it seemed impossible to be embarrassed by it.

His mouth never leaving her breasts, his fingers slipped under the band of her lace panties and pushed them down slowly, and she wriggled the rest of the way out of them on her own. She sighed when she was completely naked beneath him and his hand slipped between her legs, one finger teasing the entrance to her body. Finally his mouth worked its way lower, showering her abdomen with soft kisses, tonguing her navel. And finally, finally, he bent her legs, placed her thighs on his shoulders, and lowered his head to her sex.

"God," Donna said when his tongue first flickered against her inner folds. "God, Josh..." He took his time about it, his tongue exploring her there, slipping in and out of her, bathing her clit with short strokes. He clutched her thighs as he continued to lap at her, driving her to a near frenzy, licking and sucking and then concentrating on her clit, tonguing it in slow circles, her hips rising and falling beneath him.

"Josh," she whispered. He didn't stop, feasted on her harder. Oh god, she was close... "Josh, stop..." He looked up, confusion in his eyes. "I want the first time...I want you to be in me when I..." She trailed off.

He nodded his understanding. "Do you have...?"

"Yeah." She reached over and pulled open the drawer of her nightstand. He took the opportunity to slip out of his boxers, and when she rolled back over with condom in hand, he was hard and ready for her. "Why hello there," she murmured, and he let out a low laugh. She took his shaft in her hand and stroked him experimentally, wanting to feel his flesh beneath hers before he had to put on the condom. He gasped and took the small package from her, tearing the wrapper open with his teeth while she continued to caress him.

"Christ, Donna, you're killing me," he muttered, and she took pity on him, stopped to help him with the condom. When he was ready she leaned back and raised her hips for him; he settled between them, pressing against her opening. "You all right?" he whispered.

She nodded in answer, then reached down and helped guide him inside of her, shifting beneath him, slowly taking him in. When he filled her completely he let out a long, low breath. He thrust in and out of her once, then lowered his lips to hers, kissing her hungrily. He thrust again, and she groaned into his mouth. He released her lips and looked down at her, his eyes searching hers. She couldn't believe this was happening, that Josh was inside of her, that they were finally doing this.

In unspoken agreement they began to speed up the rhythm, bodies rising and falling, a chorus of sighs and moans filling the room. Faster, and she raised her hips higher to take him in deeper, moving her legs further up his back, so that the sweet pressure encompassed her senses, filling her completely.

Josh groaned, found the best rhythm for their new position. "You feel so good," he whispered.

She arched up against him in response and reached down to grasp his behind, pulling him closer. One of his hands traveled down to where their bodies were joined and started stroking her there, finding the swollen nub and teasing it mercilessly. She gasped in shock and pleasure.

"Come for me, Donna," he said. "I've imagined it a million times, I want to see it..."

She filed that little factoid away for later and concentrated on the sensations enveloping her, his cock filling her, his hand on her clit, his breath coming in harsh, short pants, his skin slick against hers, her hands on his firm, clenching ass, the way his familiar voice kept whispering her name now, urging her to come --

-- and then she was, crying out, shaking and shuddering around him, beneath him, calling his name. He increased his thrusts, faster, harder, faster, and then he spilled over the edge as well, arching his back and letting out a strangled growl as he spasmed inside of her.

When it was over he collapsed against her, breathing hard, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his forehead, his ear, nibbled at his earlobe. They stayed like that for a long while, catching their breath, holding each other tightly.

Finally: "That was amazing," he said to her neck.

"Yeah," she said. That was about all she could manage at the moment. She was still twitching, super-sensitive, and she hissed when he lightly ran his fingertips along her outer thigh. "That tickles..."

"Good tickle or bad tickle?" he asked, not stopping.

She squirmed. "Bad tickle."

He let out a low laugh that raised goosebumps on her flesh, then hopped out of the bed and ran to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. She heard the toilet flush, then he returned to bed, getting in beside her. She shifted around so that he could take her into his arms from behind, spooning her completely, their closeness in height letting them line up nearly perfectly. He rested his head on her shoulder and traced circles on her belly. "You okay?" he rumbled in her ear.

She took his hand, brought it to her mouth and kissed it. "I don't think I've ever been better," she said truthfully.

"Good." He kissed her shoulder, nuzzled her hair. "It certainly took us long enough."

"I don't know, Josh, I think that could have gone even longer..." She let out a shriek as he tickled her for real.

"That's not what I meant!" he said, laughing.

"I know, I know -- ack! Stop!" she pleaded, wriggling beneath him. "Stop!" He finally did, and she turned over so that she was facing him. "You suck, Josh," she said, but she was laughing as she said it. They kissed long and hard, arms wrapped tightly around each other, and when they parted, they were both still smiling.

"I'm gonna go to sleep now," she said through a yawn.

"Okay," he said sleepily.

She blew out the candles, then they adjusted themselves so that her head was on his chest, and she smiled delightedly at the sensation of her head moving up and down in time with his breathing. She ran her fingers over the planes of his chest, traced his scar, and soon drifted off to sleep, lulled by the whisper of his breath against her hair.

*****

Donna woke slowly, easing into consciousness. Her first realization was that she was, well, awake. The second was that she had to pee. The third was that she was drooling on her pillow.

Only then did she remember that she had company.

She surreptitiously wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and rolled over onto her other side. Josh lay there, also on his side, awake, looking at her.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey." She stifled a yawn. "Have you been up long?"

He sniffed. "Nah. A few minutes."

"Did you sleep okay?"

"I slept fine." He smiled lazily at her. "This wild woman tired me out last night."

"Anyone I know?"

"Nah."

They grinned at each other, then Donna scooted over for a kiss. It was a good kiss, long, leisurely, thorough.

"I really have to pee," she whispered after.

"I do too. Make it quick, would ya?"

"Why didn't you just go when you woke up?" she asked as she climbed out of bed.

"I didn't want to wake you."

He was watching her as he said it, and she realized she was completely naked and standing in front of him in her sun-drenched bedroom and boy this was a lot different than making love in the dark the night before. She fairly ran to the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

By the time she had finished using the facilities, she realized she was being ridiculous. It's a little late for modesty, sister. So she took a deep breath and went back into the bedroom, head held high.

So, okay, she got under the covers fairly quickly, but hey, it was a little chilly in there what with the air conditioner running and everything.

Josh yawned widely and pulled himself out of bed, showing none of the self-consciousness Donna had showed a moment before, which was just fine by her because it meant she could watch the cutest butt in politics make its way across the room in all its glory.

When he returned she threw a condom at him on his way toward the bed. He caught it easily and climbed into the bed beside her. "What do I look like, Donnatella Moss' personal blow-up doll?"

She shot a pointed look down at his crotch. "Not yet, but I'm hoping that's about to change."

"Insatiable woman," he grumbled, and pulled her down to him.

It didn't take long for Josh to get exactly where he needed to be; some enthusiastic necking and heavy petting saw to that. This time Donna lowered herself down onto him, taking things slowly, rocking atop of him at a gentle pace as Josh caressed her hips, breasts, buttocks. She bent down to kiss him and he drank from her greedily, burying his fingers in her hair. "I'm getting close..." he whispered when she released his lips.

"Wait for me," she said softly. She straightened back up and guided his hand to her clit, then speeded up her movements, matching the rhythm of his quickly working fingers. He responded in kind, jutting up into her, eyes squeezed shut, and she knew he was holding out for her as best he could. It didn't take long before she was convulsing around him, gasping and cooing, and then he spent himself as well with a series of short, soft moans.

"Thanks for waiting," she murmured happily as she snuggled up against him.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "You lead and I'll follow."

"That would be an interesting change of pace."

"I mean it, Donna." At the change in his voice she looked up to see he had an intent look on his face. "However you want to play this...I mean, I know this is weird." He let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Really weird."

She pulled back a little to get a better look at him. "Are you asking me what I want out of this relationship?" she asked. "Because that's awfully touchy-feely of you. Who are you and what have you done with Josh Lyman?"

"Donna, I'm trying to do this right, okay? Because a week ago I was your boss and you were my assistant and this is just weird and I don't want you to think this is just some curiosity lay for me now that you're out of the White House and I can sexually harass you with impunity."

"I see," she said. Well then. She moved away from him to the other side of the bed, getting more aggravated by the minute. "Is that what you think I think?"

"Is it?" he asked.

"You tell me. Do you really think, Joshua," she said calmly, "that I would have had sex with you -- twice now, I might add -- if I thought you were only doing it out of curiosity?" Okay, she may have kind of yelled that last part.

He had the decency to look uncomfortable. "Can I have a multiple choice option, please?"

"Oh for god's sake, Josh." She got out of bed and pulled open a dresser drawer, taking out an oversized t-shirt and slipping it over her head. "I would have thought this would be one sexual liaison of mine that you wouldn't be able to disapprove of."

"Donna, that's not what I'm --"

"Josh." She put her hands up, then lowered them. "Look. I'm sorry that you think so little of me that you believe I would sleep with you just to satisfy your carnal curiosity, but that's really not the case."

Josh grabbed the pillow from underneath his head and covered his face with it. "I was trying to do this right! This isn't fair!" he yelled into the pillow. It came out just a wee bit muffled.

And just like that, all the anger flew out of her and she smothered a laugh. "You see, Josh," she continued, "I slept with you because I wanted to. Because I really, really wanted to."

He lifted the pillow so that half of his face was exposed. One eye looked at her hopefully. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Yeah. And because I knew you really, really wanted to as well."

"I did."

She started walking toward him. "And it wasn't just curiosity, or a fling, or a one-night stand."

He shook his head. The pillow jiggled. "Nope."

She crawled up onto the bed, sat on her heels next to him. "So tell me what it was, Josh."

He pulled the pillow off of his head. "Huh?"

"You said you would play it however I wanted to play it. Well, how I want to play it is going to depend on your answer to this question. What was it, Josh? What was last night to you?"

Josh let out a long breath, then rubbed his face in frustration. "It was..." He looked up at her, and she could see he was desperate for a life line. She just stared at him.

"It was...it was us," he said simply, his hand grasping the air. "It was you, and it was me, and it was real. And it...it felt just like it was supposed to. Just like I always thought it would."

Damn him anyway. Donna hastily wiped at the tears forming in her eyes. "For me too," she said. "Well, in my version there were a lot more flowers and expensive jewelry, but otherwise...."

He grinned at her, then grew serious again. "I'm not kidding, Donna. Last night -- that was important to me. And I don't want it to be the last time that happens, and I don't want it to be some big uncomfortable production number either, I just want it to be...us. Us, but better."

She took his hand. "You can be really sweet when you're not being you, you know that?"

"Thanks. I think."

They looked at each other for a minute, then she kissed him on the forehead and got up off the bed.

"Where are you going?" he protested.

"I am going to take a shower," she informed him, heading for the bathroom, "while you make us some coffee. And then you're taking me out for brunch."

"I am?"

"You are." She paused in the doorway to look back at him. "That's what boyfriends do, Josh."

Oh, she really did love his dimples when he smiled like that.

end.