"So you said on the phone earlier that you have news," Josh said, popping a fry into his mouth.

"I did," Donna answered hesitantly. She pushed her heavy blonde hair out of her face as the evening breeze blew it askew. Eating outside had been her idea, but the strong summer wind was starting to make her regret it.

Josh ate another fry, gave her a curious grin. "Are you going to tell me or keep me hanging until dessert?"

Donna took a deep breath, exhaled, and decided to just say it. "I got a job offer today."

Josh paused in mid-chew. "Where?" he asked with his mouth full.

"Human Rights Watch."

His eyebrows shot up. "Wow."

"Yeah." She gave him a nervous smile. "They said they like what I've been doing at Planned Parenthood and want me to help do the same for HRW. They're offering me an associate director position."

"Donna," Josh said, stunned. "Donna, that's great!"

She felt her cheeks heat up and hoped she wasn't blushing. "Thanks."

"Donna, seriously." He reached across the table to take her hand. "That's fantastic. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," she repeated, smiling.

"So when do you start?"

"Well, I didn't tell them yes just yet."

"Why not?"

"There's a catch," she temporized.

He drank some water, put down his glass. "No more casual Fridays?" he joked.

"If only it were that simple." She pushed lettuce around on her plate. "The job is in New York."

"New York City?" he asked, eyes wide.

"The Big Apple. Yes."

"Wow."

"Yes."

"I mean....huh." He looked down at his plate. "When do you have to give them an answer?" he asked neutrally.

"I have 48 hours to decide," she said.

"Wow," he repeated.

"I was hoping for a more constructive reaction than that," she admitted.

"I'm sorry, Donna, it's kind of a lot to process," he said defensively.

"I know. I'm sorry."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You chose to tell me in public so I wouldn't freak out, didn't you."

She winced. "Maybe."

He sat back in his chair. "New York isn't that far away," he said, studying her face.

"No it isn't," she agreed carefully.

"It's less than a five-hour drive if you make good time," he said.

"That's what they tell me."

Silence. "I don't want you to go," Josh whispered.

Her heart skipped a beat. "Why don't we go home and talk about it," she suggested.

*****

There wasn't much in the way of actual talk once they got back to Josh's place. Faced with the possibility of losing her, he nearly devoured her as soon as they walked in the door, tearing at her clothes and practically dragging her to the bedroom. She didn't know how to refuse so didn't even try, instead yielding to him, taking him inside of her, clutching at his back until her fingernails pierced his flesh.

"So are we going to talk about this?" she asked later. She was lying with her head on his chest, satiated physically but still at a loss over everything else.

He sniffed and put his hands behind his head. "There's nothing to talk about. You're saying yes and I'm going with you."

"Josh."

"What?"

She propped herself up on one elbow, looked down at him. "You have a job, here. You have a job that you like. I don't want to take you away from that."

"Donna, I'm a political advisor. I can do that anywhere. I don't have to do it for the Congressional leadership, believe me. My being able to find work is not an issue."

"Josh --"

"I mean, I grew up in Connecticut," Josh continued, ignoring her protests. "New York is practically my second home. Hell, I'm Jewish, that kind of automatically makes it my second home anyway." He paused. "And Toby is there, so I already have a built-in social network. See? I'm way ahead of the curve."

"I don't want you to make a decision, for me, that you'll only wind up regretting," she said stubbornly. "I won't let you."

"Look at it this way," he said entreatingly, running his hand up and down her arm. "You spent over eight years supporting me, helping me to do my job, helping me when I couldn't even help myself. Maybe...maybe it's time I returned the favor."

She lay back down, rested her cheek on his chest, the sparse hairs there tickling her nose. "You can be very sweet when you want to be, Josh, but I'm not convinced."

"No problem," he murmured into her hair. "I'll just have to convince you."

"Okay," she said, ignoring the coil of unease in her stomach.

*****

Of all the reactions Josh had imagined Donna might have when he showed her the ring, trepidation hadn't been one of them.

"Is that what I think it is?" she asked warily.

"If you're thinking it's an extremely elegant and very expensive diamond ring that showcases the impeccable taste of the buyer, then yes, it is," he said.

One hand flew to her mouth. "Josh, we haven't talked about this...."

"That kinda would have ruined the surprise," he commented.

She gave him a look. "We've been together less than two years, Josh. I mean, we only recently talked about maybe moving in together. And now you're asking me to marry you?" She paused. "You are asking me to marry you, right?"

"Yes. Donnatella Moss, I am asking you to marry me. I'd get down on one knee but it's been acting up lately."

"Thanks for reminding me I'd be marrying an older man," she quipped.

"No sweat."

She stared at the ring some more.

"Donna."

"Josh."

"Okay, now that we've established we are indeed who we say we are....do you think I could maybe get an answer?"

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

He blinked. "Is that a trick question?"

"This is because of the job offer, isn't it," she said, clearly already convinced. "You're afraid of losing me, so you figure by asking me to marry you you'll be locking me up, taking me off the playing field, sticking your brand on me."

"What in god's name are you talking about?" When exactly, he wondered, had the wheels fallen off the wagon?

She got up off the couch and grabbed her coat. "Would you be asking me to marry you right now if I wasn't potentially moving to New York?"

"I'm asking you to marry me because I want to go to New York with you," he protested.

She shook her head. "Same difference, Josh. You're only asking me to marry you because of the situation." She gave him a sad smile. "I want you to ask me to marry you because you want to marry me. Not because you're afraid you'll lose me if you don't."

"Donna!" he croaked. This was definitely not the way he had imagined this going down. Weren't all girls supposed to crumple at the sight of a ring? He paused, struck by a frightening realization. Was it possible that reality television had lied to him about these things?

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, Josh. I'll call you after I call Human Rights Watch and give them my answer." She started toward the door. "It's a beautiful ring," she called over her shoulder.

Josh stared after her dumbly, the small velvet box an impossibly heavy weight in his hand.

*****

"So what are you going to tell them?" CJ asked.

Donna shifted the phone to her other shoulder. "I'm going to tell them yes."

"Good for you," CJ said encouragingly. "It's a great opportunity."

"I know."

"And you're going to love New York. The shopping alone, my god. I'll e-mail you some recommendations."

"Thanks," Donna said, smiling into the receiver.

"So what about Josh?" CJ prodded.

Donna sighed. "He's wrapped up in the whole grand dramatic gesture thing. I don't think he has a realistic expectation of what this could mean for him or for his career."

"Don't count him out, Donna," her friend said. "Josh Lyman may be a self-absorbed jackass, but he'll also move mountains for anyone he cares about. He's the only narcissist I've ever met who also has a martyr complex."

Donna had to laugh at the truth of it.

"And he cares about you more than anyone," CJ continued. "And few people in this world are better at thinking through all the angles to any given situation than he is. Maybe you should take him at his word on this one. Don't try to do all his thinking for him, tempting as it may be."

"Maybe you're right," Donna conceded, fiddling with her pen.

"Of course I'm right," CJ said breezily. "Hey, I've gotta go, I got a thing."

"Okay. Thanks, CJ."

"Call me!"

"I will," she promised, and hung up the phone. Then she picked it up again and dialed the number of her contact at Human Rights Watch.

*****

"Can I come in?"

Donna hesitated in the entranceway to her apartment. "Are you mad at me?" she asked.

Josh shook his head. "I'm not."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Donna, I'm not," he said firmly. "I'm not gonna.....you know, yell or anything."

"Good, because I don't like it when you do that," she said, opening the door to grant him access.

"I know," he muttered. He walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, leaving his coat on. Donna joined him, sitting a careful distance away from him.

"So, I got a job today," Josh said with forced casualness.

"You got a job," she repeated, confusion in her voice.

"Yep." He leaned back, put his feet up on the coffee table. "You're talking to the new adjunct professor of political science at Columbia University."

"Josh," she said warningly.

"That's right," he said, warming to the topic, "it's amazing how easy it was, really. Apparently they've been after Toby for months now, but he keeps turning them down. He mentioned me to them and they fell all over themselves making me an offer."

"You got a job in New York," she said dumbly.

"Yes. Yes I did. I also bought season tickets for the Mets this morning." He grinned, exceedingly proud of himself.

"When you try to prove something, you don't do things halfway, do you?" she murmured.

He shook his head. "Nope."

Now he could see she was fighting a smile, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. Finally she let out a disbelieving laugh. "I give up," she said. "I guess we're moving to New York."

"I guess so," he agreed.

"You said 'adjunct,' though --"

"It's not a lot of money," he admitted. "It's just one class, but I figure I'll be able to find something else soon enough. Either way, it's not like I'm hurting for cash. Eight years with no free time to spend any of my income added up to a nice little nest egg."

She nodded. "So, I guess we're going to live together in New York?" she asked tentatively.

"Have you looked at the Times real estate section yet? We're not going to have a choice," Josh said. "The rent is brutal. I know Toby's happy living in Brooklyn, but I don't do boroughs." He knew he was starting to sound giddy, but he didn't care. Because he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was going to work.

Donna for her part was studying him intently, doing her best to read his mind. He hated it when she did that. "What?" he asked, unaware if he should be feeling guilty about something.

She gave him a slow smile. "You really love me, don't you," she said, wonder in her voice.

His heart clenched. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "I thought you knew that."

Spots of color formed on her cheeks and she averted her eyes. "Do you still have that ring?" she asked.

His hand flew to his jacket pocket out of reflex. "Why?" he asked warily.

"I think...." She took a deep breath, looked at him. "I think I'd like you to ask me that question again. If you want to."

"Okay," he said cautiously. He removed the velvet box from his pocket, lifted the lid. Jesus, his hands were trembling and all the moisture seemed to have drained out of his mouth. He licked his lips. "Will you...." He cleared his throat. "Donna Moss, will you marry me?"

Her eyes filled with tears. Oh for -- "Donna, don't cry. That's not what -- Could you please --"

"Shut up, you jerk," she sniffled. "I'm trying to say yes."

He grinned. "Yeah?" Huh, that was strange. He was starting to feel a little light-headed.

"Yes. Yes, I'll marry you, Josh."

Oh boy.

"Josh?"

"One minute," he croaked, his head between his legs. "Just got a bit of a head rush there."

"Josh! Are you all right?"

"I'm okay," he said quickly, then raised his head. He sniffed. "I'm okay." Whew. He took the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger. At least it fit.

She beamed down at the ring, then beamed at him, throwing her arms around him and holding him tight. He hugged her back, excited and terrified and overwhelmed. But mostly happy, if he was being honest with himself. Happier than he'd ever been, probably.

"I'm keeping my name, you know," she murmured against his ear.

He sighed. "I never had any doubts."

*****

"I'm not sure," Donna said thoughtfully, casting her gaze around the kitchen. "It's kind of small, don't you think?"

Josh could see the broker suppress a smile. He ran one hand through his hair, said, "Donna. It's an eat-in kitchen."

"Yeah, barely."

He leaned in close so only she could hear. "It's an eat-in kitchen," he repeated. "It's not a galley or a kitchenette. That's pretty fantastic."

She bit her lip. "I suppose it is quite nice compared to some of the others we've seen," she admitted.

"Yeah."

"And the bedroom doesn't face the street, which is a big plus," she continued. "No garbage trucks."

"A huge plus," he agreed.

"Well, what do you think we should do?"

"I think we should fill out an application," he said.

"Can we afford it?"

"I can afford it," he said, then dodged when she tried to hit him. "I already told you, my money is your money," he protested. "Except when it comes to, you know, girly stuff."

"Girly stuff?"

"Yeah, you know." He shifted uncomfortably. "Like shoes."

"Shoes? That's your definition of 'girly stuff?'"

Uh oh. "Look, Donna, this isn't really the time or the place for this conversation," he said smoothly, "so why don't we just talk to this harpy about renting this joint?"

She kissed him quick and hard on the mouth. "Okay. After you, Daddy Warbucks."

He sighed and gestured to the broker.

*****

"Eureka!" Donna crowed triumphantly.

Josh looked up from the Times to see Donna brandishing a yellow highlighter like a sword. She sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the low mahogany coffee table, on top of which she had spread out a copy of the New York City subway map. She had been wrestling with it for the past half hour trying to figure out the most efficient way for each of them to get to work.

Josh figured he'd just take a cab up to Columbia, but he wasn't about to deprive Donna of working out a solution to a problem. It was far too entertaining to watch her brain working.

He suppressed a smile. "How you doing there, Vasco de Gama?"

"The solution," she said excitedly, "is the crosstown bus."

"But see, you just said 'bus,' which in my experience has never been a workable solution to any problem," Josh countered.

She deflated a little. "I didn't say it was the ideal solution," she grumbled.

"My mistake."

She returned to scouring the map. "Well, actually there are two options." She looked up at him. "This is all for my commute, by the way, not for yours, so feel free to disregard everything I'm saying, as I'm sure you plan to do in any case."

He nodded and went back to his paper. "Excellent."

"The bus is indeed one option," she continued. "I can take the crosstown bus across 86th Street and then transfer to the downtown 4/5, which runs express, or, I can take the 1/9 to Times Square, transfer to the 7 or the shuttle to Grand Central, and then pick up the 4/5 from there." She sighed. "You'd think there would be an easier way to get from the upper west side to the lower east."

"There is," Josh said. "It's called a taxi."

"Josh," she said in her best tone of exasperation. "We're on a budget."

"You didn't seem too concerned with our budget when we were at Barney's yesterday," he pointed out.

"That was different. Work clothes are an investment."

"I see. This is financial planning as devised by Donnatella Moss."

"You got that right." She chewed her bottom lip. "I don't understand why you can't transfer from the C to the E sooner than 42nd Street! That makes no sense!"

Josh suppressed another grin and turned the page of the newspaper.

*****

"Ted Leary for mayor, huh?" Josh asked as he and Toby strolled the cement paths across the Columbia quad.

"Yeah. I have my hands full with Abruzzio and Cunningham or I'd take it over myself. Instead I'm stuck on the sidelines watching a ten-car pile-up. His campaign has been plagued by incompetence, disarray, and infighting. They need someone who can get the job done with a minimum of drama and a maximum of effectiveness. Someone who's not afraid to knock a few heads together." He paused, looked sidelong at Josh. "I suggested you."

Josh blinked in surprise. "Toby, I don't know that I want to get involved in New York City politics," Josh said. "I'm a policy wonk, but I'm not, you know, crazy."

Toby stuck his hands in his coat pockets, cleared his throat. "I'm not asking you to stay at City Hall. You go in, you get our guy elected, you get out. We're talking less than a year's commitment."

"I don't know, Toby."

"Aren't you at least tempted?"

"Yeah, I'm tempted. Of course I'm tempted. I miss being in the game. But things are different now. I'm..."

"Married?"

"I'm still only engaged," Josh said defensively.

"Now there's a matter of semantics if I've ever heard one," Toby muttered.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Toby raised an eyebrow. "Do you really want me to humiliate you by spelling it out for you?"

"Not really."

"I thought so."

Josh scuffed his shoes on the cement. "Let me talk it over with Donna."

"You know, Josh, Bob Chernow is looking to step down as head of the NYDNC next year. Someone who puts Leary in office could pretty much write himself a check for the job."

"Yeah." He took a deep breath. "All right. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Good."

*****

"You know, I don't think New York gets quite enough credit for Central Park," Donna announced.

Josh looked up at her from where he lay on the grass, his head in Donna's lap. She was running one hand gently through his hair and he couldn't help but think that if he were a cat he'd be purring right about now. "Do tell," he said, relaxed enough that he didn't mind encouraging her.

She shifted against the tree trunk, finding a more comfortable position, jostling Josh's head until she found one. She started running her hand through his hair again, though, so he wasn't about to complain. "Central Park encompasses 843 acres," she recited. "You can go bicycling, horseback riding, ice skating, or rowing. It features a zoo and a carousel and Strawberry Fields. And yet most people think that New York is nothing but concrete and steel and asphalt." She was getting that morally indignant tone in her voice that he'd always found ridiculously adorable. "It doesn't seem right."

"I blame NYPD Blue," Josh said.

"Josh," she said in frustration. "I'm just saying. I like it here."

"It shows," he said sincerely. "I think the city likes you, too." He was surprised, if truth be told, at how quickly Donna had taken to their new home. He'd wondered if she'd be able to hack it; sure, DC was a den of liars and thieves, but calling New York a jungle wasn't cliche, it was truth. Instead she'd blossomed before his eyes, finding a confidence and maturity he'd always known was inside her. Struck suddenly by the emotion, he reached up, placed his hand behind her neck, and pulled her down to him for a kiss.

When they parted her eyes were sparkling. "I think you like me too," she teased.

"Maybe a little."

She kissed him on the forehead and leaned back against the tree. "I do think the park would benefit from roving popcorn vendors, though."

He laughed. "Like at the circus?"

"Yeah. Then you wouldn't have to get up when you're hungry. Just wave over the popcorn guy and carb up without leaving your picnic blanket."

"You have a singular mind, Donna," he said solemnly.

"I know." She sighed dramatically. "It's a blessing and a curse."

*****

"The music is too loud," Josh shouted.

"What?"

He leaned in even closer to Donna's ear. "I said, the music is too loud. How are people supposed to talk politics and raise money when they can't even hear themselves think?"

"Don't be such a stick in the mud, Joshua," Donna said. "This is an event for the young and hip. You're only here because you're the campaign manager and your need for control compelled you to be here even though your younger and, I might add, cooler associate manager could have handled this all on his own."

"Cooler?" He grimaced. Donna started swaying back and forth to the pounding dance music beat, and he took her in once again, looking her up and down. His better half was looking very hipper-than-thou tonight, in a short black dress, heavier makeup than usual, and black leather knee-high boots. He was particularly fond of the boots. "You're enjoying this, aren't you," he said.

She shrugged. "What's not to enjoy. Music, food, open bar...." She bumped his hip with hers. "Speaking of which, why don't you go get us a couple of drinks?"

"You're going to let me drink?" he said disbelievingly.

"I'm going to let you have a drink. You could use it. Loosen up, Lyman."

"Right." He made his way over to the bar, stood hip-deep in aggressively attired youngsters until he was able to belly up to an open space. He ordered two martinis and made his way back to where he'd left Donna, only to find her engaged in conversation -- and under the circumstances, "conversation" meant practically standing on top of each other in order to be heard -- with a tall, rangy hipster clad in vintage wash jeans and a tight-fitting Ramones t-shirt. His longish black hair fell into his eyes as he leaned closer to Donna to hear what she was saying. Josh looked down self-consciously at his own suit and tie.

"How you doin'?" Josh yelled, sticking his head in between theirs. He handed Donna her drink and slid his newly free hand possessively around her waist.

"Whassup," the guy said, tossing Josh a careless glance.

"This is James," Donna said into his ear. "He's from Move On. He organized Bartlet house parties during the last campaign."

"What, while he was in kindergarten?" Josh said so that only she could hear. She glared at him.

"I'm gonna go talk to some more people," James said, and Josh stared in fascination at the small silver hoop in his left ear. And who had eyes that green, anyway? He looked like a Japanese cartoon character. "Let me know if you change your mind," the kid told Donna, and moved off into the crowd.

"Change your mind about what?" Josh wanted to know.

"He asked me if I wanted to dance," she said.

Josh bit down on his tongue, determined not to say anything that could be construed as jealousy. "Did he have a note from his mother?" Okay, so maybe that wasn't the way to go.

Donna rolled her eyes. "He's probably only a couple of years younger than me, Josh," she pointed out.

"Thanks for the reminder." Great, now he was pouting. He knew he was pouting. He tried to shape his lips into something that didn't resemble a pout, but knew he wasn't being successful. Dammit.

"Josh."

He looked at her.

"Stop acting jealous. You should feel good."

"I should?"

"Yeah." She pressed her lips right up against his ear. "He's not going home with me tonight. You are," she said throatily.

Great, so now he was not only the oldest guy in the room, he was probably the only one with a raging hard-on. Then again, considering this crowd, probably not. "How about we go home right now?" he said, his hand traveling over her back.

She looked at him through kohl-rimmed eyes, knocked back the rest of her martini, and licked her lips. "Let's go," she said.

Josh couldn't remember the last time he moved so fast.

*****

"So I met a girl last night."

There was an excitement in Sam's voice that Josh hadn't heard in a while. "She wasn't a girl who sleeps with men for money, was she?" Josh teased.

"No one is ever going to let me forget that, are they."

"No," Josh said immediately.

"Okay." Sam paused. "Her name is Susan Carruthers. She's an assistant DA. I met her at a dinner party hosted by a mutual friend."

"And...?"

"And I really like her." Another pause. Josh tried to picture his friend on the other side of the country. He was probably wearing one of his impeccably pressed white dress shirts despite the heat and sipping from a tall glass of iced tea. Sure enough, he heard Sam swallow a moment later. "As in, I feel like I want to marry her tomorrow."

Josh blinked at the phone. "You always did have a flair for the dramatic, Sam."

Sam sighed. "I know what this sounds like. But...I'm pretty sure she likes me back."

"Did you ask her out?" Josh asked.

"In a manner of speaking."

"What manner of speaking is that?"

"In a manner of, I slept with her last night."

"I suppose that's one way to express your interest," Josh observed.

"Seriously, Josh," Sam said earnestly. "This is it. I can feel it."

"That's great, Sam, really," Josh said sincerely. "As someone who took eight years to figure out who he should be with, I am impressed and supportive. Just...promise me you're not going to, you know, elope to Vegas tomorrow. If nothing else, it would be terrible for your political career."

"I know," Sam assured him. "Besides, I don't think Susan would let me do something that stupid."

"A woman who keeps you from doing stupid things is an invaluable asset," Josh said with the voice of experience.

"You should know."

"Yeah."

*****

"I have to admit, Josh, I'm impressed," Bob Chernow told him, pumping his hand. "Is there anyone you can't get elected?"

"Hasn't happened yet," Josh said, grinning.

"Good point." Bob slung his arm over Josh's shoulders and started walking him toward one of the bar stations. The New York glitterati mingled and danced in a sea of designer clothing around them. Turnout for Ted Leary's mayoral inaugural ball was at full capacity. "Josh, you may have heard that I'm retiring next year," he started.

Josh nodded, having an idea of where this was going. "I'd heard that, Bob. I'm sorry to hear it. You're a credit to the party."

Bob looked at him sidelong. "I'm not the only one, Josh." He paused for a moment, scanned the crowd. "Where is your lovely fiancee, by the way? I haven't see her tonight."

Josh craned his head, searching the ballroom. "There she is," he said when he spotted her. He broke into a smile. "She's over by the mayor's table, chatting up the new first lady."

"And doing a good job of it, it seems," Chernow observed.

Josh felt a frisson of pride. "Everybody likes Donna," he said simply.

"I've noticed." The older man gave him a thoughtful, appraising look. "Why don't we step out on the balcony," he suggested. "So we can talk privately."

"Lead the way," Josh said, fighting a smug grin.

*****

"It was wonderful speaking with you Mrs. Leary – I mean, Sarah." Donna watched the new mayor's wife walk away, then turned around only to practically slam into Toby Ziegler.

"Toby!" she said happily, and gave him a hug, which he suffered in silence.

"Donna."

She held him at arms' length, taking in the tuxedo. "You look dashing this evening."

"That surprises you?" he joked mildly.

"Not a bit," she said smoothly.

"Where's the conquering hero?"

"Do you mean Mayor Leary or Josh?"

"Josh. I've already spoken to His Honor tonight." Toby looked above her head. "There he is," he said, moments before Donna felt her fiance embrace her from behind.

"My man!" Josh said, extending his hand for Toby to shake. "It is an evening of jubilee."

"Indeed it is. Have you spoken to Bob?" he asked without preamble.

"I did." Josh moved around from behind Donna. He answered Toby but kept his eyes on Donna as he said, "He's planning on nominating me as his successor next year."

"Excellent," Toby said quietly, almost to himself, as Donna threw herself into Josh's arms for a bear hug.

"I'm proud of you, Joshua," she whispered in Josh's ear. He hugged her tighter.

"This is definitely a cause for celebration. Why do we not have any drinks?" Toby barked.

"An excellent question," Josh said. "On an occasion like this we must drink like men! And women," he amended, with a hasty glance at Donna.

"So Mrs. Leary wants to take me shopping," Donna said as they headed off in the direction of the bar.

"The mayor asked me to join him for golf."

"I am not carrying your clubs," Donna said immediately.

"Come on, it's great exercise," Josh countered. "All that fresh air....you'll love it."

"Mrs. Leary is taking me to her personal shopper at Bendel's," Donna said, ignoring him.

A step behind them, Toby shook his head. "Look out, New York," he muttered to himself.

*****

::ring::

You've reached the Lyman slash Moss residence. We're not here to take your call, but leave us a message after the beep!

::beep::

"Hey guys, it's Sam." Pause. "Josh, you remember how I told you Susan wouldn't let me do anything stupid? Well, it looks like I was wrong."

End.

So, that's how they got there. Will there be more? Your guess is as good as mine.