Christmas was coming; Josh knew this because every store in existence saw fit to herald the fact with copious amounts of tacky decorations hanging on the walls and insipid holiday music piping through the speakers. Even the Strand Bookstore, normally one of his favorite refuges for its solitary nooks and crannies and surly salespeople who understood that most people didn't deserve to have access to so many books, was overrun with Muzak Jose Feliciano on the sound system and bungling tourists in the narrow aisles.

Josh was, generally speaking, not the biggest fan of the holiday season. He was even less of a fan when downtown Manhattan was as crowded as midtown.

Nonetheless, he tried not to let the ignorant hordes detract from his enjoyment of the compendium of Doonesbury cartoons he was flipping through. He toyed with the idea of buying it, then decided he'd much rather just have it here for browsing purposes whenever he was in the neighborhood.

"I think this may be a new record."

"Hmm?" Josh looked up at the sound of his wife's voice.

"We've now been in here for two hours," Donna said, leaning against the overstuffed bookshelf nearest her and tapping her watch. "That seems a bit excessive, even for us. Especially considering the crowds."

"Maybe," he conceded. "Now that you mention it, I think that pudgy sales guy over there is starting to shoot me dirty looks."

"Josh, this is the Strand. The sales people are always shooting dirty looks."

He snapped the book shut. "Yeah, that's one of the reasons I love this place," he said wistfully.

Donna grinned and looped her arm through his. "Come on, I'll treat you to a latte across the street."

"That five bucks you got for trading in your old romance novels is burning a hole in your pocket, huh?" he asked as they headed for the exit.

"Just for that, you're not getting a muffin to go with it," she retorted.

"I had a feeling you'd say that."

*****

Christmas was certainly coming, but first there was Hanukkah to get through. Josh and Donna had visited his mother in Florida for Thanksgiving, so they wouldn't be seeing her for Hanukkah; but Donna wanted to do something that felt festive, so she bullied Toby into coming over for dinner the first night. He hemmed and hawed at first (naturally), but as Donna had foreseen, he seemed glad to be there once he was actually, you know, there.

Besides, she was feeding him, so he couldn't really complain, could he?

And in fact: "Much as I'm loath to admit it, Donna, I'm a little impressed," Toby said as he helped himself to more latkes. "I was skeptical that you'd be able to bring the Jewish, but -- not bad."

"I helped," Josh put in.

Donna rolled her eyes. "Yes, you did. A little. Thank you, Toby. I admit I was more than a little intimidated at first, but I think I got into the swing of things pretty quickly."

"Well, it looks like you can fry with the best of them," Toby assured her.

"Thanks. Hey, maybe I should make some for Christmas dinner," she said to Josh.

He raised his eyebrows. "You think your mother would let you do that?"

"She might."

"Wouldn't it get in the way of her festival of meat?"

Donna stuck out her bottom lip. "You like my mother's cooking."

"I *do* like your mother's cooking," Josh conceded, "but you have to admit, she goes a little overboard with the dead animals. Not to mention the gravy."

"Whatever," Donna said. "Eat your latkes."

"Yes, dear."

Toby snorted.

Earlier in the evening Donna had watched as Josh and Toby said the required blessings over the menorah and lit the first candle. A part of her was too firmly planted in her Christian Midwestern roots for her to bring herself to convert, but she found that she loved the Jewish traditions and customs, loved incorporating them into her life and sharing them with her husband.

Plus, she kind of got turned on when Josh spoke Hebrew. Which was probably weird, and she didn't want too dwell too closely on it.

Toby took his leave of them soon after dinner, protesting as he always did that he was imposing, even though he knew perfectly well that they enjoyed having him.

"Thanks for coming, Toby," she said as she hugged him goodbye.

"No -- thank you, Donna," Toby said gruffly. "I'm glad you did this. Thanks for talking me into it."

"You're very welcome. And maybe next year you can bring Huck and Molly," she suggested.

"Maybe," he said after a moment's hesitation. "I'll, uh, keep it in mind."

She smiled encouragingly. "Okay."

"I want to thank you, too," Josh said after the door closed.

"For what?" she asked, puzzled.

He shrugged. "I dunno. For everything."

Tears stung her eyes. She always got even more emotional than usual around the holidays. "Josh --"

"Come on, don't get all mushy on me," he said uncomfortably. Then he grinned. "You know I just love you for your latkes."

"Is that what the kids are calling them these days?" she asked playfully.

He laughed as he pulled her close. "Well you know, I am in touch with the young people."

"As long as you're strictly speaking metaphorically when you say that," she said, her mood changing abruptly.

"It was one card, Donna," he protested. "One stupid Hanukkah card from one student."

"With a picture of her naked inside of it!" she squeaked.

"It was artistic!"

"It was disgusting!"

"Donna."

"I'm not jealous, Josh, I'm just annoyed."

"Really? 'Cause I kind of wanted you to be jealous," he said, beginning to nuzzle her neck.

"Sorry to disappoint," she murmured. She closed her eyes as his lips worked against her skin more insistently. "It's just that I always thought I was the hot one in this relationship."

"Oh, you are," he assured her, his hands moving to the buttons on her shirt. "Let me show you."

****

The holiday season also meant visits from out-of-town friends. (Although Josh was not allowed to remark in their presence that they were only adding to the tourist population and thus contributing to the hordes that drove him crazy every time he stepped outside. For some reason Donna thought their friends might not exactly appreciate the sentiment. Go figure.)

"Wow, you guys look terrible," Sam said when Josh and Donna arrived at the restaurant, a popular French bistro on the west side. They crowded in next to him in the chilly, claustrophobic vestibule near the entrance.

"It's good to see you too," Josh said dryly. Sam and Susan were in town for just a day before heading out to Long Island to visit Susan's parents. He'd never expected Sam to wind up with someone from Great Neck. (That was another thing he wasn't allowed to say out loud.)

"We just got back from my parents' in Wisconsin last night," Donna explained. "We're a little…"

"Drained of every last drop of our life force," Josh finished.

"Well, you look it," Sam said heartily, slapping him on the shoulder.

"Thanks."

"Where's Susan?" Donna asked.

"Harassing the maitre'd into giving us our table," Sam said.

"It's not ready?" Josh asked. "We have a reservation."

"There seems to be some trouble convincing them of that."

"Great."

"Hey, where's my hug?" Donna demanded.

Sam smiled. "Sorry." He embraced Donna and held her tight. "It's so good to see you," he said into her hair.

"You too," she said fervently. She pulled back and studied his face. "You look happy," she pronounced.

He smiled his best pretty boy smile. "I am."

"Speaking of which," Josh murmured as Susan approached their little group.

"Five minutes, they tell me," she said in greeting. "Start your stopwatches." She leaned in for perfunctory cheek kisses from Josh and Donna, then slipped her hand into the crook of Sam's elbow. "What'd I miss?"

"Just Sam telling us how happy he is," Donna said with a mischievous grin.

"Really?" She looked up at Sam affectionately. "That's sweet. No one kisses up like my husband."

"No one browbeats matire'd's like my wife," Sam said in return.

"Aren't newlyweds cute?" Donna said to Josh.

Josh blinked. "Technically, we're newlyweds."

"Eh, we don't count," Donna said, waving her hand dismissively. "We've known each other too long."

"It's true. The thrill is gone," Josh said solemnly to the other couple.

"We've only known each other for a little over a year, so we're still entitled," Sam said.

"Excuse me, miss, but your table is ready," the maitre'd called to them.

Susan checked her watch. "Three minutes," she said. "Not bad."

"Let's go eat, Mussolini," Sam said with a chuckle.

****

Donna and Josh decided to walk the fifteen blocks back to their apartment after dinner, both of them agreeing that the brisk winter air and the exercise would, with any luck, do wonders for their bloated stomachs.

"Too much food," Donna groaned as they waited for a light to change.

"Don't even say food," Josh said. "I'm never eating again."

"Mmm." Donna closed her eyes and breathed in deeply of the night air. Somehow New York even smelled different at Christmastime. Pine and roasting nuts and the wintry smell of cold. Although right now the roasting nuts smell wasn't all that welcome.

Josh took her hand and she opened her eyes, crossed the street with him as they turned down a side street. "It was good to see Sam," she said. "I miss him."

"Me too," Josh said. He sniffed, his nose red with cold. "I know it's petty, but sometimes I hate him for moving to California."

"No, I know what you mean," Donna said. "But it's been good for him."

"I know. That's why I can't hate him."

"What was all that talk about focus groups and funding opportunities and staying on message? You don't think he's actually considering a run for the Presidency, do you?"

"I don't know," Josh said. "I -- I really don't know. I guess we'll find out soon enough. He got pretty cagey about the whole thing when I started firing questions back at him, so -- I don't know."

"President Seaborn," Donna said, trying it out. "Sounds weird."

Josh grinned. "That's just because you know him."

"I guess." She felt a cold drop on her face and frowned, hoping it wasn't starting to rain. But when she looked up, it wasn't rain that was beginning to fall from the sky, but snow.

"Josh," she said, stopping in her tracks. "Look, it's snowing."

They stood in the middle of the fairly empty sidewalk and watched the snow fall. Donna lifted her face up to the stars, savoring the moment. She'd just enjoyed a wonderful meal with friends she adored and now she was walking home with her husband about whom she was unreasonably crazy, and it was Christmastime in the city and on top of it all it was snowing. She almost thought she could feel her heart expanding in her chest.

"Perfect," she murmured.

"Yeah," she heard Josh say. She turned to look at him and he was smiling at her, his dimples flashing and his brown eyes warm and god she really did love this man. Loved him even more when he took her into his arms and kissed her soundly beneath a delicate shower of snowflakes.

"Perfect," she said again when their lips parted. "Absolutely perfect."

*****

Josh lounged on the couch and flipped through the cable TV channels, finding it difficult to concentrate on the DNC polling numbers that were collated on the coffee table in front of him. He was hoping to find a college football game or even an old episode of Star Trek to distract him, anything to give him a halfway legitimate reason to take a mental break. Donna was on the phone in the bedroom, and he could occasionally hear her soft laughter filter through the walls. He jiggled his feet, expending restless energy. Maybe he was just feeling antsy because he wasn't currently the center of attention.

Nah.

Donna walked into the living room, the cordless receiver still glued to her ear. "That would be great," she was saying. "No, it's no trouble at all. It'll give me an excuse to go down there. Okay. Okay. Yeah, hold on." She held out the phone to Josh. "Here, it's CJ. Say hi."

He muted the TV and threw the remote control down on the couch, where it immediately slipped through the space between the cushions, and took the phone from his wife. "Hey, CJ."

"Happy Hanukkah, Joshua."

"You're about a week too late, you know."

"Yeah, I know. So how are you? I haven't talked to you in a while."

"Fine," he said promptly. "Great."

"Well thanks, I feel all caught up now."

"Seriously, CJ, there's not much to tell." Donna retrieved the remote from between the cushions and eased herself onto the couch, situating herself between his legs and resting her head on his chest. He shifted beneath her to get more comfortable. "The usual den of thieves that is New York politics. Other than that..."

"Donna told me that Sam was making some unusual noises when he and Susan were out there."

"Yeah." Josh furrowed his brow in remembrance. "If I didn't know better I'd say he was thinking of running for president."

"But you don't think so?"

"I don't know," he admitted. He absently stroked Donna's hair as he continued. "I mean, I know it's something he's always thought about, but it seems too soon, doesn't it?"

"Depends on what the field looks like," CJ said. "So what does the field look like to you?"

"I gotta say, it looks pretty open at this point," he said. "That doesn't mean I think Sam will be able to take whoever crops up in the next year or so."

"Well -- okay. Maybe we should just table it until Sam actually makes a decision one way or the other."

"Ya think?"

CJ ignored him, as usual. "So how are you doing?" she asked again. "Donna said that some of your students seem to like you a little too much."

"One student," he corrected her. "And if you're going to find out everything you need to know from my motor-mouthed wife, why do you even bother talking to me?" Donna reached up without looking to gently smack him on the back of the head. "Ow."

"Just because I love the sound of your voice," CJ teased.

"It's too late for flattery, my friend."

"With your ego? It's never too late. However, I will let you get back to whatever it was you were doing. Flipping through television channels, no doubt."

"I'm studying DNC polling numbers," he said defensively.

"Whatever. Tell Donna I said bye, and I'll talk to you guys later."

"Night." Josh turned off the phone and took the remote from Donna's hand. "I don't know why you have to tell her every last detail about what's going on in our lives," he said.

She lifted her head slightly. "Why? You have something to hide?"

"Maybe I do. Maybe you do, too," he countered. "Or are you going to tell her about the other night, with the blindfold?"

"Josh!"

"I'm just sayin'."

"Pervert."

"Hey, you were the one who brought out the blindfold."

She huffed and started to extricate herself from his embrace, pushing herself up from the couch, but he grabbed her and pulled her back down next to him, then kissed her soundly. She didn't resist, instead wrapping her arms around his neck and opening her mouth to his.

When their lips parted she nuzzled his nose with hers and touched his bottom lip with her thumb. "Why did we waste so much time?" she asked softly.

His mouth went dry at her suddenly serious tone. "We've never been able to come up with a good answer for that," he said.

"I know. And you know what?" she said, leaning back a little. "We shouldn't regret it. We did what we did and we still ended up here. I don't want to let regret into our relationship. We fought too hard for it."

"Okay," he agreed. "No regrets. Regret stops right now. Besides," he added, wanting to lighten the mood, "we're certainly having plenty of sex to make up for it."

She flashed him a toothy grin. "We are, aren't we?" she said, and kissed him again.

****

"I can't believe I let you drag me out here," Josh grumbled as he dodged yet another knot of meandering tourists. "This is the absolute worst time of year to be in this neighborhood."

"Calm down. It's not that bad, Mr. Cranky Pants," Donna said. She took his hand in hers and dragged him toward a shop front. "I just wanted to see all the decorations and the window displays. It helps put me in the holiday spirit."

"You and the entire rest of the country, apparently," he said. Donna made no show of hearing him as she stared intently into the store window, and he groaned inwardly as he realized they were standing in front of Tiffany & Co. There was simply no way for a man to extricate himself from this situation in a matter that would not wind up with him in trouble somehow.

He watched her for a moment more, then bit the bullet and cleared his throat. "Anything good? The usual dime store baubles?"

"Just window shopping," she murmured. Her breath formed a circle of white vapor on the glass as something she saw in the display made her gasp in delight.

He stared at her some more, at the almost childlike expression of wonder on her face, and his stomach fluttered. "Okay, let's go inside," he said, hardly able to believe he was suggesting it.

She looked up at him in shock. "Josh, contrary to what you think, I'm not trying to torture you --"

"Come on, before I change my mind," he said, taking her arm. "I don't anticipate this swell of holiday good cheer to last. And anyway," he added as they entered the store, "I haven't bought your Christmas present yet, so this is as good a place as any."

Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened so dramatically that Josh half-expected them to fall right out of her head.

*****

One tastefully small but elegant diamond pendant later, they returned to their apartment, shopping bags in hand, their cheeks flushed from the cold and the excitement of spending money. Donna began waltzing around the apartment, humming to herself and using her robin's egg blue Tiffany bag as a dance partner, while Josh sorted through the mail.

"Huh."

"Mmm?" Donna asked, distracted by her very special brand of Christmas crazy.

Josh threw the rest of the mail on the side table and waved a small rectangular invitation made of thick red card stock at her. "It seems we've been invited to a New Year's Eve party at Gracie Mansion."

"Let me see that!" Donna snatched the invite out of his hand and read eagerly. "Cocktails...full buffet...champagne toast at midnight!" Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement, and Josh had to laugh. "What?"

"You," he said, taking off his coat. "You used to see the President of the United States on a daily basis. You've been to state dinners and traded bon mots with ambassadors from all over the world. And you're excited to be invited to a New Year's Eve party on the Upper East Side."

Donna cocked her head and gave him a look. "Did I or did I not get excited every time there was a party held at the White House?" she said. "At least when it was a party that I was actually allowed to attend?"

He winced at that. "You were always excited," he conceded.

"Well then. I'm excited about this too," she said, case closed. "Now I just need to figure out what I'm going to wear."

"Don't tell me, more shopping," he groaned.

"It's Christmas, everything is on sale," she said defensively. She put the invitation down and took off her own coat and scarf.

"It's not the money," he said. "I just don't want to get dragged along with you again."

"Then I can assure you that won't happen," she said briskly. "So," she said, changing tactics, "I thought I'd put on a little modeling show for you. Show off my diamond."

"Model it while wearing what?" he asked as she stepped into his arms.

She kissed him softly on the lips. "Absolutely nothing."

His hold on her tightened. "I should buy you jewelry more often," he observed.

"You really, really should," she murmured before she kissed him again.

****

"Josh! Is that Donald Trump?" Donna hissed, and thwacked him on the arm.

"Ow," Josh said, rubbing his bruised flesh. He forced himself to make the effort to look in the direction she was indicating. "Yeah, that's him all right. I'd know that hair anywhere."

"Have you met him before?"

"He's a Republican," Josh said, thinking that explained everything.

"I'm going over there," she said. "I'll get to him through the wife, compliment her jewelry. That always works."

"You're very scary in the presence of half-baked celebrities, you know that?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "I look like a naïve Midwestern girl, I can pull it off."

Josh opened his mouth, but Donna was off like a shot before he could point out that she was, in fact, a naïve Midwestern girl. He shrugged and drained his glass of champagne, only to have it summarily plucked from his hand by a roving uniformed waiter. Not too shabby, he mused. He could have done without the brass quintet in the foyer, and the reindeer ice sculpture was a bit much, but otherwise, the mayor had put on a fairly impressive shindig.

He was craning his neck looking for a tray-bearing waiter who might be proffering cheese puffs of some kind when he spotted someone else he had been hoping to see that night. "Congressman," he said, stepping in the older man's path.

Congressman Ryder, a portly, white-haired bear of a man, stopped and stuck out his meaty hand. "Josh Lyman. How the hell are you?"

"I'm doing well, and yourself?"

"It's the holiday season, I can't complain."

Josh smiled. "Some would say that's actually justification to complain more than usual."

"Ach, the time off is worth it," the congressman said. "But what about you? I heard that you married your assistant a short time back?"

Josh cleared his throat. "My former assistant. Yes, sir. I actually wanted to talk to you about the welfare reform act --"

"Good for you," Ryder said over him. "If I remember correctly, she was quite the looker."

Josh opened his mouth, then closed it. What did you say to that? "Thank you?"

Naturally, Donna chose just that moment to re-join him. "Mr. Trump's fiancée is surprisingly nice," she said in greeting. "Once you get past all the plastic and silicone, anyway. Hello, Congressman."

"You remember my wife, Donna Moss," Josh said, as if they hadn't just been discussing her.

"Of course," Ryder said. "And may I say you look lovely this evening."

"Thank you," Donna said politely. She really did -- she'd bought herself a clingy red satin sheath on sale at Loehmann's and she was absolutely stunning in it. But Josh didn't particularly like the congressman noticing that right about now.

"You've certainly done well for yourself, Ms. Moss," Ryder continued. "Guess there was a lot going on at the Bartlet White House that we didn't know about, eh?"

Donna stiffened. "I'm not sure what you're implying, Congressman," she said before Josh could jump in. "Josh and I never engaged in inappropriate behavior while we were working at the White House."

"Certainly. My mistake," the politician said, in a tone that implied he didn't believe her for an instant. "So, Josh, you said you wanted to talk to me about the welfare reform act?"

Josh clenched his jaw. "Changed my mind. Have a good evening, Congressman. I'd like to enjoy the rest of the party with my beautiful wife," he said, putting special emphasis on the last word. He put his hand at the small of Donna's back and steered her away from Ryder.

"Sorry about that," he murmured when they were out of earshot.

"It's not like you have anything to be sorry for," she said. "What a jerk."

"Been a while since something like that's happened to us," he said with a sigh.

"Yeah, I guess I thought we were finally safe."

"You know, sometimes I wish we had been inappropriate," he said suddenly.

She stopped walking, and he turned around to look at her. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I just figure if everyone's going to assume we were sleeping together while you were my assistant, we should have just, you know, done it."

"I thought we decided, no regrets," she said, her voice deceptively light.

"You're right," he said. No point in letting that jackass ruin their evening. "No regrets."

"Good."

Around them, the countdown to midnight started, revelers counting off from ten. Josh took his wife by the waist and pressed his forehead against hers. "I don't regret one minute I've spent with you," he whispered.

Donna smiled up at him as a chorus of "Happy New Year!" blared around them. "Not one single minute," she breathed.

They kissed amid a shower of confetti and a cacophony of cheers.

End.