Donna fluttered into wakefulness, only slowly becoming aware of her surroundings. Hawaii. Hotel. Josh. Wow. She rolled over and found him awake, lying on his side, watching her. "Morning," she said.

"Hey." He gave her an uncharacteristically mellow smile. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good," she said. "You?"

"Like the dead," he said. He sniffed, stretched. "I can't remember the last time I slept that long without jerking awake in a stone-cold panic about campaign strategy or policy initiatives."

"Then I'd say this vacation is off to a good start," she said.

"I thought it got off to a pretty good start last night," he said, raising his eyebrows.

She grinned. "Yes. Yes it did."

Josh reached up to trail a finger over her shoulder and down her upper arm. "Shall we uh, keep the good thing going?"

"It's times like this when I am overwhelmed by your smoothness and subtlety," she said with mock solemnity.

"It's a gift." He slipped his arm underneath the sheet, around her bare waist, and pulled him to her for a kiss. He tasted minty; he'd already brushed his teeth, which was hardly fair. He didn't seem to mind any morning breath she might have, though, as his tongue was now aggressively exploring her mouth and his breathing was already quickening. She placed her hand on his neck, felt the muscles moving beneath her palm. His stubble tickled.

"This is the best vacation ever," he said when they came up for air.

"And it's only the first morning," she pointed out.

"You realize I intend to have every inch of your body memorized by the time this week is over," he murmured, his lips brushing her neck.

"Let me know if there's anything I can do to help you with that," she said.

"Turn over," he rasped, and she shivered in anticipation.

****

The beach was exquisite: shockingly blue water, white sand, and lots of hot women in bikinis. Regarding the last, Josh made a mental note to try his best not to get caught staring. Not that Donna hadn't seen him ogle women in the past, but in the past, the worst he could expect from her was a barbed remark. Now -- now she could punish him in much more significant ways. He cleared his throat and diligently fixed his attention back on Donna, who was busy claiming a spot for them by laying out her towel on the sand.

Josh joined her and dumped his stuff, figuring they'd lounge around for a while, maybe do some insufferable public necking before working their way up to a swim.

He was wrong.

"Race you!" Donna yelled (startling the hell out of him by the way), and took off for the water.

Never let it be said that Josh Lyman couldn't roll with the punches. After only a moment's hesitation he ran after her, hot on her heels, and they hit the water's edge at about the same time, wading in quickly, Donna letting out occasional shrieks of cold. Josh pulled ahead and jumped straight into the first wave, letting himself get drenched. He let out a whoop and turned around to see Donna still inland a bit, not ready to take the final step. So much for the race. "Come on!" he yelled.

She scrunched up her face, and Josh couldn't help but laugh. And then the decision was made for her when the next wave came in closer than the last, taking her by surprise. She went under and came up sputtering, and Josh knew he was going to get it for laughing, but he couldn't stop.

God, it felt good to laugh. For a moment he couldn't remember the last time he'd even done it.

He swam over to her and took her hand. "Jump into the wave," he said, just as another crest came bearing down on them. They did it together, water breaking against their chests, and came out the other side. "That's better, right?" he said.

She nodded and slicked back her hair, but her eyes were already nervously scanning for the next one.

"Jump!" he yelled, and they did it again, getting a little farther out, over the main break. "It should be better now," he said.

"If you say so."

"Not a lot of opportunity for ocean swimming in Wisconsin, I take it."

"Not really, no. And after I moved to the east coast someone didn't pay me enough to take beach vacations."

He ignored that bit. "Out here the waves won't be as strong as when they're breaking on the shore," he explained. "Push against them, but don't fight the float, either."

She nodded, and smiled this time. "I'll get used to it."

He smiled back. "I know."

She doggy-paddled over to him, which was adorable and hilarious at the same. Just as she reached him they rose into another wave, and she did better this time, letting it happen. After it passed she moved in close to him, her legs tangling with his. "Thanks again for inviting me here," she said.

"Thanks again for coming with me," he said.

She kissed him, her mouth warm in contrast to her skin and the water. He grabbed her ass and pulled so that her legs went around his waist, and they floated there, kissing, until a larger wave took them unawares and they split apart, grappling for the surface.

"You okay?" he asked.

She smoothed back her hair and rubbed her eyes. "Yeah."

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Josh submerged and did a somersault underwater, just for the hell of it.

****

Donna made him buy a pair of flip-flops so he didn't have to keep taking off his sneakers every time they went down to the beach. He didn't like them. He didn't think men's feet should be seen unless absolutely necessary, and besides, the things flipped and they flopped and got sand inside of them when he walked. Who had invented such stupid things in the first place? Probably a Hawaiian.

He didn't have them on at the moment in any case, preferring to carry them in one hand as he and Donna strolled along the water's edge after dinner. He'd even rolled up his khakis so they wouldn't get splashed by the incoming tide. Donna was barefoot as well, her sandals in her hand, her flowered skirt flapping against her knees in the wind off the ocean. He was fascinated by the sight of her pink-painted toenails against the off-white sand.

Just then Donna stopped and bent over, picked something out of the sand and, with great excitement, showed it to him in her palm. It was...a shell.

"Yeah?" he said, not getting it.

"It's pretty," she said as if talking to an idiot.

He looked at her. "Okay." If she said so.

"Oh, Josh," she said in disgust, and kept walking.

"What?"

"You have no appreciation for nature," she said.

"I have plenty of appreciation for nature," he said.

"Liar. You think nature is something you drive through on the way to the next Starbucks."

"I'm pretty sure my record on pushing through environmental legislation puts the lie to that notion."

"That's different," she said. "That's nature in the abstract. I'm talking about nature up close and personal."

"Do you think I'm not enjoying this?" he asked, gesturing with his arm to indicate the beach, the ocean, the palm trees, the seagulls. Well, maybe not the seagulls. They were really annoying.

"I think you are, but I'm not convinced it has anything to do with nature," she said, giving him a half-lidded look.

She had a point there. He was having a good time, but that had a lot more to do with having lots of sex with Donna than with their surroundings. Not that he didn't like the surroundings. It just wasn't the priority. Was that so wrong?

"Does the female form count as nature?" he asked, trying to score points. "Because I have a lot of appreciation for that."

"So I've noticed." But instead of teasing him further, she grabbed his hand, brought him to a stop, and pressed her lips to his. They'd been doing a lot of that sort of thing lately.

He kissed her back, leaning into her, strands of her hair whipping against his face in the wind. "Let's go back to the hotel," he whispered.

"Had enough of nature?" she said tartly.

He shook his head. "I just haven't had enough of you." God, that was -- "That sounded really cheesy, didn't it."

"It did," she said. She gave him a toothy smile. "But I think it's going to get you sex anyway."

"Well, that's what matters in the end," he sighed.

"Indeed."

*****

Donna emerged from the shower, wrapped in a bathrobe and still towel-drying her hair, to discover that Josh wasn't in their room. For a minute she thought maybe he sneaked off to make a phone call to D.C., but then she heard oddly muffled sounds coming from the direction of the balcony.

She went out there to investigate and found him hunched over in a patio chair, crying quietly to himself. She bit her lip, took a step toward him. "Josh," she said gently.

His head jerked up and he sniffled, wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "Yeah," he said, with an energy he clearly didn't feel. "Sorry. I just, uh -- "

"I know," she said, sparing him. She walked over to him and placed her hand on the top of his head, smoothing the springy curls.

"Sorry," he said again, not looking at her. "This is...embarrassing."

"Don't apologize," she said. "You're still grieving, Josh. And while stepping away from the craziness of work has been good for us on a certain level, it's not surprising that it's also given you a time to mourn that you haven't had before."

"Yeah. I hate this," he said with a shaky exhalation of breath.

"I know," she said. "I miss him too."

Her words apparently broke something loose inside of him; he choked out a sob that tore at her heart. God. She stood there for an awkward moment, trying to figure out what to do, then finally eased herself into his lap and pulled him close. He promptly buried his head in the crook of her neck and cried. Donna felt her own eyes well with tears, but wasn't sure if she was crying for herself, or for Josh. Not for the first time since Leo's death, Donna mourned the fact that for the some of the greatest moments of his life, Josh wasn't going to have Leo by his side.

She hoped that she would be able to be there, at least. Hoped that would be enough.

"Hey," she said softly as he quieted down and his breathing returned to normal. "You want to go lie down for a little while? It's our vacation, we're allowed to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon."

He pulled back, coughed. "That might be good," he said.

"I think so too. Come on." She got up from his lap, took his hand and led him inside. He made a detour to the bathroom to blow his nose, then got into bed beside her. She lay her head on his chest; he wrapped his arms around her, his breath stirring her hair.

They were quiet for a moment, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

"Leo's the one who sent me to Germany, you know," Josh said finally.

She shifted her head. "What do you mean?"

"When they took you to Germany...he's the one who told me I should be where I wanted to be. That's when I hopped on the next flight to Landstuhl."

Donna's throat closed up. Her memory of that period was so fuzzy, and not something she wanted to spend much effort clarifying. "When I woke up, that first time, I wasn't surprised to see you there," she found herself saying. "I guess maybe I should have been, and later, I was, but at that moment...I wasn't surprised to see you there," she repeated.

He didn't say anything at first. His chest rose and fell beneath her cheek; his heart pulsed beneath her palm.

"I'm glad," he whispered.

They slept.

*****

"You're the one who left me!" he yelled.

"Because you gave me no choice!" she yelled back. "It was either quit or continue living a life of servitude, because you wouldn't let me do anything else!"

"I gave you plenty of opportunities –"

"Only when I bullied you into it!" Donna said. "And even then, only sparingly. Admit it, Josh, you didn't want me to grow in my job. You wanted to keep me chained to my desk."

"I didn't want you chained to your desk, as you so dramatically put it. I just didn't want you to leave me!" he yelled, then stopped short; he'd said too much.

Donna's mouth opened, then closed. "You what?"

"Nothing," he said. "You're right, I was a terrible boss."

"You weren't a terrible boss," she said. "Well, not always."

"I gave you more room to grow than a lot of other bosses gave their assistants," he said.

"You did."

"And I went to the mat for you at every opportunity in terms of salary increases."

"I know you did that too."

"So then what was the problem?" he asked, his voice getting loud again.

"The problem is that it wasn't enough," she said. "And -- you know what, it was never going to be enough. And that part isn't even your fault. I should have left that job long before I actually did."

That stung more than he would have thought. "So what stopped you?" he snarled.

She met his gaze. "You know what stopped me."

"Do I?" he snapped. Then he deflated a little, looked away from her. "I don't think I can talk about this anymore right now," he said.

"Yeah." Donna grabbed her beach bag, her sunglasses. "I'm going to go sit by the pool for a while. I'll see you later," she said, ice coating her voice.

"Yeah," he said, as she closed the door behind her.

*****

"So -- makeup sex? Is the best sex," Josh said, still panting.

"Yeah." Donna pulled her hair off her neck. Cool air dried the sweat on her skin. "Which is convenient, since we're already so good at fighting."

"We really couldn't have planned it better," he said.

She traced her finger down between his pecs. "Is it worth it?" she asked hesitantly. "Is the making up worth it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what I mean." She looked down at her finger tracing circles on his skin, then back up again. "Yes, I do. The making up, the fighting in the first place...it's all work. Do we want to do the work? Is this -- whatever this is, whatever this could be -- is it worth it? Do you want it to be worth it?"

"Do you?" he whispered.

"I asked you first," she said, knowing it was cowardly.

He was silent for a moment.

"I -- I think so," he said. "I think I made that decision when I asked you to come here with me."

"You think, or you know?" she persisted. She was still gun-shy about pushing him, but somehow pushing was getting easier by the day. Probably had something to do with all the sex. It was clouding her judgment.

"I think," he said, and her heart panged.

"Okay," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"Look, Donna --" He pulled a strand of her hair through his fingers. "All I know, right now, is that I don't want to stop feeling like this, with you. Everything else -- I'm figuring it out as we go along. Is that enough, for right now?"

"I hope so," she said softly.

"Yeah." He sighed. "I hope so too."

*****

"I think we should go snorkeling tomorrow," Donna said.

Josh raised his eyebrows and swirled his beer in its pint glass. "You do."

"I do. In fact, I already made a reservation for us."

"You did."

"I did. You'll like it," she said off his skeptical expression. "It's like Finding Nemo, only real life."

"You're never going to let me live it down that I saw that movie, are you?"

"No," she said, with a tilt of her head. "Nor should I."

"It was raining! I was bored!" he whined.

She didn't say anything, just smiled. She actually thought it was kind of cute that he'd seen it -- not that she planned on ever letting him know that, of course. It was important that she at least try to keep him humble.

He gave her an unreadable look. "You're different, you know that?" he said.

"What are you talking about?" She sipped her pina colada.

"You're different than you used to be."

Well, that was helpful. "You just think that because you can't boss me around anymore," she said.

"Like I could ever boss you around?"

"You tried your best."

"I did," he admitted. "But you also kind of liked it."

"Maybe," she conceded. "For a while, anyway. Sometimes."

"I'm not saying you're bad different," he said. "I'm just saying you're different different."

"Maybe I grew up," she retorted, an edge of defensiveness in her voice.

His eyes met hers. "It suits you."

Did he purposely pull out the sweet from time to time just to throw her off? The corners of her mouth twitched. "Thanks."

"Seriously."

"Seriously, thanks."

He took a drink of beer. "So are you going to take the chief of staff job?"

"We shouldn't talk about work," she said, stabbing a broccoli spear with her fork.

"We're not talking about work, we're talking about you," he argued.

"Semantics."

"Donna."

She blew out a breath. "I think so. Probably. It's that or the unemployment line, really, which makes the decision easier."

"You don't think you could get a job pretty much anywhere you wanted with your current experience?" Josh said, his eyebrows shooting up into his forehead.

"I want to work at the White House," she said stubbornly, looking down at her plate.

"But not for me," he said softly.

She looked up at him. "No," she said.

"Chief of Staff for the First Lady, that's not an easy job," he said.

"I know that."

"High-profile."

"I know that too."

"I think you'd be great at it," he said.

That stopped her short. "I'm not sure I'm qualified --"

"Great at it," he repeated.

She felt herself smiling and kind of hated herself for it. "You're different too, you know," she said.

"Maybe I grew up," he said, with a scratch in his voice.

She let herself smile for real this time. "It suits you."

*****

"I'm never moving again," Josh announced. He was lying face down on a bamboo mat beneath the oversized umbrella Donna had insisted they rent, his towel rolled up as a pillow under his head. His pale back was protected from the sun, but Donna was starting to worry about his feet, which flopped over the edge of the mat, beyond the shade the umbrella provided.

It was eminently satisfying to see him so blissed out, though, and part of her felt that she could just sit here and watch him all day. But part of her really had to go to the bathroom, and another part of her was really hungry, and all in all she was ready to go back to the room and shower and have a snack.

She told Josh as much, and he grunted.

"I take it that means you don't want to come back with me?"

"I told you, I'm not moving," he said, his eyes still closed. "You go ahead. I'll be there in a little while."

"Okay. You should really put some sunblock on your feet, though, or you're going to be sorry."

"Not moving," he repeated.

She rolled her eyes and reached for the bottle of No-Ad, then sat down cross-legged by his feet. She squirted a dollop of sunblock into her palms, then rubbed the lotion over his soles. He jerked at the first contact -- and then kept jerking.

"It tickles!" he howled.

"Oh for god's sake. Keep still, you big baby."

He settled down a little after that, only twitching a few more times. "There, I'm done," she said. "Feel free to thank me when you stand up and the soles of your feet aren't burned to a crisp."

"Thank you now," he mumbled.

Impossible man. She stood up and got her stuff together, then walked back over to him. "I'll see you in a bit," she said. "Don't forget to return the umbrella."

His hand reached out to wrap around her ankle; he squeezed, then released. "'k," he said.

A few yards down the beach she turned back to look at him; she couldn't remember the last time the lines of his body had appeared so relaxed. She smiled to herself, then turned and headed up to the hotel.

*****

The morning of their departure, Donna went out on the balcony of their room for one last look at the ocean, one last chance to draw the sea air into her lungs. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, enjoying these final moments of ocean-induced calm.

"Hey," Josh said softly from behind her.

She opened her eyes. "I can't believe it's our last day," she said as he slipped his arms around her waist.

"Back to the real world," he said. "Time to find out whether Barry Goodwin has already run this administration into the ground before it even starts."

"Stop," she said chidingly.

"I'm kidding," he said. He paused. "Sort of."

She grinned. "You're going to have to learn how to play nice, Josh."

"I play nice," he said.

"You're capable of playing nice," she corrected him. "You just don't always choose to do so."

"Well, that's probably true." He bent his head to kiss her shoulder. "So I guess when we get back, we should tell people. You know, about us."

"I have a feeling that when we both disappeared for a week, they probably figured it out," she said.

"Good point."

"So what are we going to tell them, exactly?" she asked, doing her best to keep her voice even.

"As little as possible," he said.

"Josh."

"I don't know." She felt him shrug. "That we're...together, I guess."

"Are we?"

"Aren't we?" He turned her around so that she was facing him. His expression was as serious as she'd ever seen it, which made her nervous. "Look --" He scrubbed a hand through his hair, scratched the back of his neck. "I think I'm finally realizing that I want to have a life outside of my job, which isn't easy for me to admit, and I should stress that admitting it doesn't diminish the importance or the scope of my job in the slightest," he said with warning in his voice.

"I know that."

"But as hectic and cramped and insane as any life I manage to scrape together for myself outside of the office may be, I want you to be a part of it. You know, if all the sex we had this week wasn't enough of an indication. So -- yeah. Together. You and me. And like I said before -- we'll figure the rest out as we go along." He blew out a breath. "Is that enough?"

She smiled. "That's enough," she told him. "That time, you said it right."

"Thank God," he said with obvious relief. "I suck at this."

"You do," she agreed.

"You're not so great at it yourself, you know," he said.

She gave him a look.

"...and I really shouldn't have pointed that out," he said with a gulp.

"Now you're learning."

"Yeah, well -- figuring it out as I go along, remember?"

"Yeah," she said gently. "Me too."

Dimples flashed as he showed her a smile; then he took her by the hand and led her back into their room. Donna had no idea how they were going to fit all the beach accoutrements and souvenir gifts they'd purchased into the small luggage they'd brought with them, but she wasn't too worried. They'd figure it out as they went along.

End.