The armrest on the car door was digging uncomfortably into the small of his back, but Josh didn't care, didn't care about much of anything at the moment other than the feel of Donna's lips against his and the dexterous way she was caressing the sides of his face with her fingertips. The cab driver was being treated to quite a show, but Josh couldn't bring himself to care about that, either -- as far as the driver knew, they were just another couple out late on election night, not the future Chief of Staff and Media Director for the President of the United States.

At least, he hoped that was all the driver knew.

"You don't think he recognizes us, do you?" he whispered against Donna's hair.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said, moving her mouth to his ear. Her tongue flickered against his earlobe, and he bit back a moan. "No one outside of the Hill knows or cares who you are, Josh, and it's about time you accepted that."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," he mumbled. He slid his hand under her shirt and pulled her more firmly against him, her knee jabbing into his thigh (but again with the not caring).

"I seem to be doing okay so far," she said. She kissed him again and he drank her in, tasting champagne on her tongue. He'd only had about a glass of it himself, wanting to be clear-headed for the remainder of the night -- almost morning, now -- but Donna hadn't been quite as self-sacrificing.

As long as she wasn't too tipsy -- he wanted to make sure she remembered tonight. They'd certainly waited long enough to get here.

*****

"Can we talk?"

Josh swallowed his mouthful of coffee and raised an eyebrow at her. "Okay," he said warily.

"I mean in private," Donna said, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"Sure," he said. He got up off the counter stool and allowed her to lead him to a back booth of the Dayton greasy spoon where the members of the various campaigns had taken to getting their breakfast in the mornings before hitting the streets. Around them silverware clanged and people muttered grumpily and black-vest-clad waiters hollered for the short order cooks to get a move on already. Just another day in America.

"What's up?" he asked as he slid into one side of the booth. He put his coffee cup down in front of him on the pink-tinted tabletop and ignored the acidity in his stomach.

Donna pushed her thin hair behind her ears, then looked around from side to side as if expecting a spy to pop out from behind the lunch counter. "I want to join the Santos campaign."

Well, that had been just about the last thing he'd expected her to say. "Excuse me?" he said stupidly.

She didn't meet his gaze, keeping her eyes focused on his coffee cup instead. "I want to join the Santos campaign," she repeated. "I -- okay, this is even harder than I thought it would be, which is saying something -- what I mean is -- I think he might be the real thing, Josh. I think you might be right this time. And I think I want to be a part of it."

He made a concerted effort to swallow every smart-ass remark that sprang to mind and congratulated himself on his restraint. "Well, we'd love to have you," he said with forced casualness. "I'm sure the Congressman will be thrilled to have Russell's chicken fighter on board."

"I'm never going to live that down, am I," she said with a tinge of exasperation.

"No."

She sighed, gave a small smile. "So...could I meet with him? With the Congressman?"

Josh nodded. "Sure, I'll set something up. I do have one question though."

Donna pursed her lips. "What's that?"

"Why are you telling me here?"

She looked around, not understanding. "Why not here?"

"I mean," and he leaned over closer to her across the table, "why are you telling me this in a public place? You could have called me, we could have met somewhere that was actually, you know, private instead of hoping the din of this place covers up our conversation."

"I don't know what your point is, Josh."

"Are you afraid to be alone with me?" he asked bluntly.

He watched her throat move as she swallowed. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" He reached across the table to take her hand, but she pulled away. "Donna --"

"This is about my career, Josh, it isn't about you," she said, getting up from the table. "If you don't understand that by now --"

"Fine," he said, cutting her off. "Fine. We'll play it your way."

"So you'll let me know about seeing the Congressman?"

"Yeah. I'll talk to him and call you later."

She inclined her head. "Thank you," she said stiffly, then turned and walked out of the diner without looking back.

*****

Her breath was harsh against his ear as he nuzzled her neck, the addictive, familiar scent of her perfume making him light-headed. "You smell so good," he murmured.

In answer she slipped her hand under his overcoat and ran her fingers over the small of his back. Josh gripped her hip and sighed into her hair.

"We're here," the driver's voice sounded, jarring them out of their embrace.

"Thanks," Josh croaked. He floundered for his wallet and managed to extract the correct number of bills. "Have a good night," he said as he handed the bills over the top of the front seat. The cabbie grunted. He apparently wasn't having nearly as good a night as Josh was at the moment.

Josh pushed open the car door and clambered out, then helped Donna out after him. As soon as she was upright he pulled her close and kissed her some more before reluctantly letting her go long enough to make their way into his apartment.

Once inside they began stumbling toward his bedroom, losing a couple layers of clothing along the way. When Donna kicked off her high heels her entire body descended a few inches, breaking the kiss, and she giggled.

No matter. He moved his lips down to her neck instead, tracing his mouth over the lines of her skin as he continued to back her up toward his bed. He pulled back long enough to lift her shirt up over her head, then returned to what he was doing, sucking delicately at her soft flesh and caressing her breasts through the lacy cups of her bra.

Donna ran her fingers through his hair and let out a contented moan. "Why did we wait so long to do this?" she muttered.

"That was your idea, remember?" he whispered against her skin. He eased down and knelt before her, kissing her smooth, flat belly, then went to work on undoing her pants.

"Oh yeah," she mumbled. "That was really stupid of me."

"No arguments here," he said under his breath. He tugged down her pants, watched her long pale legs move as she stepped out of the gray dress slacks and kicked them aside. His mouth went dry at the sight of the black lace panties she wore – how nice of her to be prepared, he thought with amusement. He placed gentle kisses along the edges of the lace, breathing in her scent, and hummed in satisfaction.

"Really stupid," she repeated, letting her head fall back.

****

"How is that list of suggested markets for our next ad coming along?" Santos asked. He took a bite out of his cheeseburger, then set it back down on the hotel room desk as he perused the hastily written remarks for his imminent pow-wow with Pennsylvania union leaders.

"It's almost done, I just need to get Josh to sign off on a couple of things," Donna said around a mouthful of French fry.

"Josh, you heard the lady. I want to see that list by dinner tonight. Of course, the way things have been going lately, dinner usually isn't until 11 PM, so that timetable shouldn't be too much of a problem for you."

Josh swallowed his charred double hamburger. "Congressman, how many times do I have to tell you it's not necessary for you to approve those lists?" he said. "It's a waste of your valuable time."

"And how many times do I have to tell you, Josh, that I want to know exactly where my face will be seen and my voice will be heard before agreeing to release an ad?" Santos turned around in his chair. "Ronna, how many times have I told Josh I want to know exactly where my face will be seen and my voice will be heard before I agree to release any advertising?"

"I don't know, ten or twelve times?" Ronna said without looking up from the most recent campaign donor list.

"See, Josh?" The candidate pointed at him accusingly. "Ten or twelve times. And you think I'm the one having trouble with the learning curve?"

"Congressman, I --"

"Tonight, Josh. Find some time to sit down with our chicken fighter before then and hash it out."

"Sir, I --" It was Donna's turn to interrupt.

"Is that a problem?" Santos asked, looking from one of them to the other.

"No, sir," they said in unison, like chastened children. Santos nodded in satisfaction and took another bite of cheeseburger.

Josh tossed the remains of his own burger in the wastebasket and sidled up to Donna where she sat on one of the double beds crowding the room. "I have some time now, if you want."

Donna looked up at him, nodded. "Do you want to meet in the lobby, or --"

"Let's just go back to your room. You have the papers there?"

She got up from the bed and tried to walk around him. "Yes, but I don't think --"

"Donna," he said softly, and she stopped short. "What's the matter? How many times have we been in a hotel room together? What's the big deal?"

She looked down at her shoes, then back up at him. "You're right," she said with a shaky smile. "Of course. Let's go."

He followed her out of Santos's suite and down the hall to her own room, which she opened easily with her cardkey. Inside everything was neat and orderly and pleasant-smelling, just as Josh had expected it to be. He cast his gaze over a meticulously arranged row of girly makeup products while Donna went to a pile of folders on the desk and picked up the top one. "I need you to make a decision on some of these urban markets," she said, and handed him the file.

He took the folder from her and flipped it open to scan the color-coded list inside. He couldn't help but grin at the sight of it.

"What?" she asked, sitting down on the bed and folding her hands in her lap.

Josh shook his head. "It's just – this is just so you. With the color coding. I miss it. Did miss it." He chanced a look at her; she twisted her hands in her lap.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you, you know," she said quietly, and he couldn't believe she was finally broaching the subject. "It wasn't about you. It was about me."

"I tried to tell myself that," Josh said, taking a seat on the bed beside her. She inched ever so slightly away from him. "After the initial hurt and anger, anyway. And believe me when I tell you I was hurt. And pissed." She swallowed loudly, not looking at him.

"Toby was after me to call you almost every day, but I wouldn't do it," he continued. "I was convinced I was the injured party, and besides, I didn't know what to say."

"I almost called you a million times," Donna admitted. "But I couldn't do it, either. I knew that you would be hurt and pissed, and I didn't want to deal with it, and I know that wasn't the best way to handle it, but it was what I had to do at the time to protect myself."

He jerked at her choice of words. "Protect yourself? What's that supposed to mean?"

She looked like she regretted saying it at all. "It doesn't mean anything. It was just something I said." She got up from the bed and walked over to the desk, started aimlessly shifting papers around.

"Using my own lines on me is not the way to win an argument, Donna," he pointed out. He got up and walked over to her. "What do you mean, you had to protect yourself?" She kept fiddling with papers. "Donna," he said, lowly, insistently. She sighed and finally looked back up at him.

"I had to protect myself because hurting you hurt me," she said, with a slight quaver in her voice. "I knew you were hurt and it was killing me, but I also knew I was doing the right thing for me, and for my career."

"I wasn't trying to do the wrong thing for you, Donna," he said softly. "That was never my intention."

"Don't you think I know that?" she said. "And don't you think that regardless of that, you were doing it anyway? Hanging on to me, holding me back?"

"Is that how you saw it?" he asked. "That I was holding you back?"

"Weren't you?"

He scrubbed a hand through his hair and struggled for words. "That wasn't -- I wasn't trying to hold you back," he said. "I just didn't -- I didn't want to lose you, Donna. I thought my flying to Germany made that pretty clear, but when I got there you were a little too preoccupied with your Irish setter."

"Don't bring him into this," she said wearily.

"Why not?" he fairly shouted. "If it hadn't been for him everything might have been different."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that if he hadn't been there, I might have had the nerve to do this." And he took her by the shoulders and kissed her.

*****

Josh slowly kissed his way up Donna's half-naked body until he was standing again, his face almost level with hers. He watched as Donna unbuttoned his shirt and slid it down his arms, letting it fall to the floor. With trembling fingers she trailed her fingertips across his chest. His heart sped up, his breathing hitched. She leaned over and flickered her tongue over one nipple, but when he groaned she lifted her head and kissed him on the mouth hungrily. He smoothed his hands over her soft hair, slid his tongue over her teeth. "Bed," he managed to whisper against her mouth.

"Bed," she agreed. She pulled away from him and lay down on the mattress, watched as he shirked out of his pants and joined her. They started kissing again, hands roaming, and the feel of her bare skin against his made him dizzy. She was pliant and beautiful and soft.

He grappled with the back hook of her bra, let out a sound of frustration when Donna finally reached behind herself and undid it for him.

"Klutz," she murmured.

"Show-off." But he wasn't complaining, not really, because now her breasts were revealed to him, and he was free to take one dusky pink nipple into his mouth.

She dug her nails into his shoulders and arched up against him, but he didn't hurry the pace, just suckled and nibbled lazily at the hardened peak, enjoying the swell of her breast underneath his fingers. When she was fairly whimpering beneath him, he moved to the other one, only to have the nail-digging renewed. He winced but kept up what he was doing, taking the abandoned wet nipple between his fingers and pinching hard.

"Oh my god," she murmured. "Now, Josh, God."

He lifted his head from her breast just long enough to say, "All in good time, Donnatella," then returned to his ministrations. Her sighs and gasps were music to his ears.

****

Josh walked Donna back to her hotel room after dinner, and they lingered in the doorway, not quite ready to say good night.

"Early day tomorrow," Donna said with forced brightness. "You know those farmers, up with the sun."

He nodded, his hands in his pockets. "Yeah." He leaned over and kissed her softly, then more persistently as she opened her mouth beneath him and slid her tongue against his. He took his hands out of his pockets and pushed her up against the doorjamb, kissing her and kissing her and kissing her.

"What if somebody sees us?" Donna asked breathlessly between kisses.

"Then they'll be jealous," he muttered, kissing her some more.

She went along with him for a while, then pulled back again. "Josh, seriously."

"Open your door and we'll go into your room. Then we won't have to worry about anybody seeing us. Problem solved." He rained kisses down the side of her neck.

"Josh," she said again, an exasperated plea.

He finally relented, leaned back from her a little. "What is it?"

"I don't think we should do this," she said.

He quirked an eyebrow. "A little late for that," he said.

She sighed. "Not this," she said, waving her hand in between the two of them, "this," and she placed her palm against her closed hotel room door.

"Oh," he said as light dawned. "You don't want to…" And he made a little punching motion with his hand.

"Oh my god," she said, closing her eyes briefly. "Sometimes I can't believe I ever let you kiss me in the first place."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

"I just think we should wait, is all. At least until after the campaign."

"Why?"

She fiddled with the lapels of his suit jacket. "I don't want you to be distracted," she said.

"You don’t think this is already distracting?" he said, wincing at the way his voice went up at the end.

"Less distracting," she said firmly. "I just -- it doesn't feel appropriate, Josh. I wouldn't feel comfortable."

He took in a deep breath, let it out, then rubbed his temples, trying to make his brain work. "Okay. Okay. I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable doing. But," he added, moving closer to her once more, "for the record, this is making me very uncomfortable."

"I can feel that," she said tartly as he pressed up against her. "Now go to bed. In your own room."

He sighed in defeat and gave her one last kiss. "Okay, you win. Good night, Donna."

"Good night, Josh."

*****

Donna wrapped her hand around his cock; Josh gasped as he twitched under her touch. He reciprocated by slipping one hand underneath her panties and exploring her folds with his finger before slipping one digit inside her.

"You feel so warm," he whispered.

She sucked in a breath, trailed her fingers up the length of his cock. "Why do we still have clothes on?" she asked.

"Excellent question." He shimmied out of his boxers, then pulled her panties down her legs, over her feet. He kissed his way back up her legs, smooth ivory skin moving enticingly beneath him. He lavished her thighs with his tongue, nuzzled the dark hair at the juncture of her legs with his nose, flickered a tongue out to probe at her sex.

She hissed his name and quivered beneath him; he couldn't resist tasting her, had to flick his tongue out again, this time using it to part her folds, then savored the musky sweet flavor of her there. He didn't linger, though, was starting to feel that he couldn't wait much longer, had to be inside of her, despite his earlier intention to take it slow.

Besides, he told himself as he positioned himself above her, there'll be plenty of time for slow later.

Donna pulled her legs up so that her feet pressed into his back, and with slow, sure motions he sank into her, hot, wet, soft, consuming. He held still for a moment, allowing her to get used to him. To this. Now. Finally.

"Finally," she said, echoing his thoughts. She smiled up at him as he began to thrust slowly inside of her.

*****

It was dark, deep night in the heartland, and the campaign bus rattled down a road with no street lights, only the half-moon and the stars in the sky providing faint illumination. The driver had turned off the overhead lights for the night, and everyone was asleep (as far as they knew), except Josh and Donna, who were wrapped around each other in the elongated back seat and kissing like, well, kissing like two people who hadn't been able to kiss each other all day, which they hadn't.

Josh shifted to a more comfortable position, pressing his back up against the back of the seat -- the couch, really, and he'd never been so grateful for big buses. Donna molded her body to his; they barely fit side by side on the narrow seat but Josh kept one arm underneath her hip and his hand firmly on her back, keeping her safely next to him. If Santos could see them now they'd never hear the end of it, but Josh knew the Congressman would be asleep for another couple hours, at least -- the man had a preternatural ability to drop off wherever and whenever he wanted, and once he did, he slept like a rock. If anyone else saw them, well -- Josh was their boss, so, whatever.

He kissed Donna some more, running his hand over her back, then slipping his hand underneath her sweater to touch bare skin. Her response was to kiss him even harder, her tongue plundering his mouth. One hand clutched at the thin material of his dress shirt.

"I want you so much," he whispered when their lips parted. He could barely make her out in the nearly nonexistent light; a glint of her hair, the outline of her face, the shadow of her nose.

"I know," she whispered back.

He moved his free hand underneath the front of her sweater and cupped one breast, her nipple hard against his palm. He squeezed it through the thin material of the bra, pinching with thumb and forefinger. He heard her breathing quicken, felt the warmth of it against his face.

"God, Josh... Josh, stop." Her voice was ragged, thready.

"Do you really want me to stop?" he asked softly, not ceasing his movements.

She buried her face in his neck, placed soft kisses on his skin there. "No," she admitted, with a sound akin to a whimper.

He moved his hand from her breast to the button and zipper of her jeans; it took some doing using only one hand, but eventually he managed to free the jean fastenings and ease his hand down, down, inside her underpants, down to her sex. He stroked her a couple of times, his fingers growing slick from her dampness, then found her clit and worked at it with his wet thumb.

Donna gripped his biceps, her nails digging into his flesh, and breathed hot and harsh against his neck as he touched her. He worked at her insistently, slow small circles growing harder and faster, his fingers doing as best they could in the confines of their circumstance. Finally he felt Donna come, quietly, shaking against him and around him, biting his neck to keep from crying out.

"I think you gave me a hickey," he said when she stopped shaking.

She laughed softly, a surprisingly sexy sound. "Sorry."

"'S okay." He shifted against her, cleared his throat. " I don't know how much longer I can wait, Donna," he said, and cringed inwardly at the desperation in his voice. But still: "It's been weeks."

"Election night's only two more weeks away, Josh," she said, her breath tickling his collarbone. "Although after, after -- that, maybe I should --"

"I didn't do that because I expected reciprocation," he said. "Don't -- don't be like that, okay?"

"Okay," she said. "Sorry."

"Two weeks," he said with a sigh. "Okay. Two weeks." So he kissed her again and held her against him, breathing in the clean scent of her hair as the campaign bus sped through the night.

*****

And now Josh was here, finally, inside of her, thrusting with a steady rhythm, making her moan and evoking all sorts of other noises he didn't know she was capable of making. He pulled her hips up higher, changing the angle slightly, and was gratified by her answering gasp of pleasure. He looked down at her; she was looking back up at him, blue eyes dark, her lips parted, her tongue darting out periodically to wet her lips. The sight of her pushed him even closer to the edge; he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out, but he was damn sure going to try his best.

"You look amazing," he told her, and she smiled.

"You feel so good, Josh," she responded, and clenched her muscles around him.

He groaned, quickened the pace almost against his will, driving into her again and again and again and "God, Donna," he muttered. "God." His knees hurt, his thigh muscles hurt, and none of it mattered, all that mattered was her wet heat sheathed around his cock, the sweet friction of their coupling, the way she was sighing his name now, her hands clutching at his buttocks as he pumped away inside of her.

He fumbled for her clit, pressed down frantically on the bundle of nerves. Her response was immediate, her back arching and her hips rising and falling faster beneath him. "Oh God, Josh, I'm -- I'm --" And then she was coming, crying out over and over and clenching around him, hard, and the force of it brought him even closer to his own release, until he was coming too, making strangled noises and jerking uncontrollably as he finally, finally spent himself inside her.

*****

"I still can't believe we won," Donna said as they watched Santos give his victory speech. The crowd was ebullient, almost deafening in its joy as Santos paused for more applause and cheers.

"I believe it," Josh said. "I had to believe it, or I never would have been able to do any of it. I wouldn't have been able to start."

She drained the rest of her champagne glass and looked over at him. Something he couldn't quite decipher was going on behind her blue eyes, but that was nothing new. "I may not have been there at the start," she said, "but I'm glad I could be here at the finish."

He shook his head and pulled her close. "You were there at the very start," he said. "The very beginning of all of this, not just this campaign, but all of it. And as far as I'm concerned, you've been there ever since. Even when you weren't."

She inclined her head shyly and adjusted his tie. "I never really left," she said, so softly he had to bend his head to hear her. "Not in my heart."

"I know," he said, amazed he could say it to her. That, to him, was much more amazing than any political victory he had managed to achieve. To know that she loved him, and to love her in return, and to be able to talk about it -- that was the true amazement. The story no reporter would ever cover. The story of them.

"So," she said, and the tone of her voice changed to something more playful, "it's election night. And I think we both know what that means."

"Are you kidding? It's all I've been able to think about all day," he said.

She looked at him.

"Okay, it was all I've been able to think about since we racked up more than 270 electoral votes," he admitted. "But what I've lacked in quantity I've more than made up for in quality, believe me."

"How late do you have to stay tonight?" she asked. "Or should I say, how long do you want to stay?"

"When my alternative is going home and finally making love to you?" he said. "As soon as the President-elect wraps it up."

She smiled toothily, and he wondered what exactly he'd done to deserve so much happiness. It didn't feel right. Was off, somehow. He tried to ignore that part.

*****

"That was awesome," Josh said breathlessly as they lay side by side, sweaty and satiated.

"So was it worth the wait?" Donna asked. She rolled over on to her side to face him, her soft blonde hair falling against her cheek.

"No," he said immediately. "I would have enjoyed myself just as much two months ago."

"I'll buy that," Donna conceded. "But I'm glad we waited."

"Then I'm glad too," Josh said with false cheer. She smacked him -- lightly -- on the head. "Ow."

"So how long do we have to wait before it happens again?" she asked. She ran her fingers over his chest, tracing his scar, playing with the hair that covered his pecs.

He considered the situation. "Not too long," he decided. "A few more minutes maybe."

"Really? I'm impressed," she said playfully.

"Not as impressed as you're going to be in a few minutes," he growled.

"I have no doubts." She snuggled closer to him and rested her head on his chest; he stroked her hair and let out a happy sigh. "Josh?"

"Yeah."

"This is big."

"I'm glad you noticed," he said with a cocky grin.

She pushed at him. "Jerk. I mean this. You know, all of this. Us, the election -- this is huge. Bigger than last time, and I didn't think it got any bigger than that."

"I know," he said, continuing to stroke her hair. He'd had the same thoughts, and fought constantly against being overwhelmed by them. "But we'll do it," he said, with a confidence he did his best to feel. "All of it," he added.

"Okay," she said simply.

And what had he ever done to deserve such faith in him? "I love you, you know," he said, wanting to feel like he'd earned it at least a little.

"I know," she said, and kissed him.

Amazing.

End.