"You know what I was thinking?" Donna said from her end of the couch as they ate the reheated food for dinner and watched CNN.

"Yes."

Donna stopped short. "You do?"

"I do."

"What was I thinking?"

"If you don't know, I'm not telling you, Donna," Josh said, never taking his eyes off the TV. "Look, Anderson Cooper. You love Anderson Cooper. You think he's hot. Let's watch and see what Hottie has to say about the vote tomorrow."

"You didn't know what I was thinking," Donna accused.

"I'd love it if we could wait until a commercial break for this, Don," Josh said, eyes still not leaving the TV.

"It's not gonna take that...what did you call me?"

"What?"

"Just then, what did you call me?"

"Donna?" Josh tried desperately.

"No, no, no," Donna said sitting up straighter. "You called me Don!" she got louder.

"No, I didn't. I don't know, maybe I did. Accidentally," Josh turned his face back to CNN and hoped she couldn't see him blushing. He could certainly feel it.

"No, no, no," Donna repeated. "Not accidentally. You've never called me that before. You call me Donna, you call me Donnatella, you call me much less flattering names, but you have never, ever, even once, called me Don."

"I'm sure I have," Josh tried to sound bored with the conversation.

"No, you haven't, Josh. What the hell? It's always either Donna or Donnatella."

"You've got issues with Donnatella at the moment," Josh said simply.

The look on her face told him she hadn't even considered that. "I do?"

"Yeah, because the guy, Packard, he called you that and...it's bothered you when I've done it. I could tell looking back after I heard your statement that it did," Josh downed a large gulp of beer. "I was just...trying something new. Never mind, it was stupid."

"It was not stupid," Donna said, her voice full of emotion. "That's one of the sweetest things I think you've ever done."

Josh looked at her for a second. "It's not a big deal, Donna."

"It is a HUGE deal, Josh. That was...very thoughtful."

"Whatever."

"Yeah, you're ruining it now on purpose," Donna said, putting her plate on the coffee table. "But I won't let you," she said as she started to crawl to the other end of the couch. "Say it again." She poked him gently in the ribs.

"No," Josh pouted, eyes glued to Anderson Cooper. "I'm never saying it again."

"Say it again, Josh," Donna tickled his ribs. "I want you to say it."

Josh squirmed a little but didn't give in. "Stop it."

There was one surefire way to win this battle. A tactic she couldn't often employ in the office, but here...she crawled even closer and wrapped her arms around his shoulders from the side, leaned in close to his ear, and in an overly dramatic voice, whispered, "Say it."

"Stop it!" he tried to shoot up off the couch, but it was too late. Her arms were wrapped too tightly around him. She held him down and leaned all her weight on him to pin him against the arm of the couch.

"Say it or I'm going to have to do something I don't want to do," she threatened.

"Do NOT stick your tongue in my ear, dammit! That's disgusting!" Josh screamed. And also, quite possibly a little too much for me to handle if you don't make it sloppy and gross enough. "Donna, I mean it. This is not the campaign trail after we've all been doing shots all night. We're adults, we have important jobs, and we're not playing the 'Josh Will Do Anything if You Threaten to Stick Your Tongue in His Ear' game!"

"It's been a long time since we played it," Donna pretended to muse. "I wonder if you're still as grossed out by it as you used to be. That time Sam had to try to do it when he lost that bet to CJ you literally took a swing at him with a baseball bat."

"I ought to take a swing at you with a baseball bat!" he screeched. "Get off me!"

She put her lips flush to his ear. "Last chance. Say. It." 

"DON! Don, Don, Don, Don, Don!"

"Thank you," she kissed him on the cheek firmly, the same way you'd kiss your 6-year-old nephew. "From here on out I expect you to use it." She settled back at her end of the couch. "But that doesn't mean I want you to stop using Donnatella."

"You want me to use it?" Josh asked, his heart still racing from the combination of the threat of a wet ear and Donna hanging all over him.

"I do," she said. "It will remind me that you're very sweet when you choose to be. And the other is just tradition. The bastard's not taking my name from me, Josh, I don't care how much it bothers me."

Josh looked at her for a second. "Ahkay."

"Promise to use the new nickname," she demanded as she settled back on her side of the couch and picked up a magazine. "Or you may wake up with a case of wet ear."

Josh groaned into his hands and picked up his beer bottle as he stood and walked past her to get another from the kitchen. He turned around at the arm of the couch and leaned down quickly and kissed her on the cheek, the same way she'd kissed him moments ago. "I promise, Don." He stood up and walked into the kitchen.

And thought he would pass out.

What the hell was that?!? his mind screamed as he pretended to rummage through the fridge. You don't just go kissing her, jackass! Especially now!

Back on the couch, Donna thought her heart was going to beat right out of her chest. "So..." she stopped to clear her throat. Her voice sounded shaky. "As I was saying before, you know what I was thinking?"

She sounds nervous. Shit, I really shouldn't have done that. "What?"

That's what you get for starting it, Donna, she thought as she placed her hand flat over her heart, hoping to quell the pounding. "I wanted to do something for the gang, you know, as kind of a thank you for the other night."

On the other hand, she did do it first. "As a thank you? They don't need a thank you, Donna."

"I know," she said. "But I thought it would be fun. It's been a while since we've hung out outside of the office. Everything's just been too busy."

"We're always busy," he said as he walked back with a newly opened beer. He took a swig and handed her the bottle as he walked past. Yeah. If nothing else, that was just payback for what she did. We're even.

"We've been especially busy, Josh," she said. "We always stay and watch the vote, but I thought, afterward, I could leave a little early and cook spaghetti. We'd have a late dinner here for everybody and watch how it gets covered."

Josh thought about this for a minute. "I think they'd like that."

"OK. Tomorrow then, after the vote? I'll ask everybody in the morning?"

"Is your spaghetti any good?"

"Are you gunning for a case of wet ear tonight?" Donna challenged.

"I LOVE your spaghetti!" he said with mock enthusiasm.

"That's better," she said. No it's not. Get it started again, Donna, that's exactly what the two of you need, is for you to get it started again right after you just got past it.

*************

Donna thought she heard something that woke her up, but when she looked over, she saw Josh asleep, huddled at the edge of the mattress. She quirked her mouth at his sleeping back. It was like he couldn't get far enough away from her. He'd shared the bed tonight with no argument but he'd seemed really...tense. And preoccupied.

What was it that woke her if he wasn't up and about? Hmm. She stared at the ceiling for a moment. She was hungry. She was having some sort of craving. She wasn't sure for what. She glanced at Josh again before slipping quietly out of bed.

She padded quietly toward the kitchen. She knew the layout of everything too well to need to bother with lights. Besides, she didn't want to disturb him. She put her hand on the refrigerator door handle and was spinning before she could get her mind around what was happening.

Her back was slammed against the refrigerator with such force that it rocked back and hit the wall and she saw stars. She closed her eyes against the pain. She opened them to see a sight that wouldn't have scared her more if it had been the devil himself.

"Did you honestly think, Donnatella Moss," Bernard hissed an inch from her face, "that it would be as simple as not staying at that little dump of an apartment you live in?" Oh God, oh God, oh God. He shouldn't be here. HOW is he here? Donna's voice was completely lost. She must have moved a little, because he grabbed her, his palm flat against the side of her neck, his fingers pressing hard into the back of her neck and base of her skull, his thumb bearing down on her chin.

"I told you we'd have to do some catching up after this was over," he hissed into her ear, his stubbly cheek scratching against hers. She whimpered a little in spite of herself. "Shh, Donnatella, you don't want to wake lover boy in there. It really is too bad for him though," he said, drawing the barrel of his gun down the side of Donna's face. "If you'd just gone home, or stayed there instead of coming back here, he could have avoided this whole ugly incident."

Donna's tears were flowing without anything to stop them. She tried to stay quiet so she didn't wake Josh. Maybe if she did what he wanted, he'd leave Josh alone. But she was too upset to stay completely silent, and she worried that Josh would hear her.

"But instead you had to go and be stupid, didn't you, Donnatella Moss? Had to go and lead me straight back here. Now his death will be on your hands the same way poor Fred's is." He pulled back only slightly. "How do you live with that kind of guilt?" he asked with mock sincerity.

"Please don't hurt him," she whispered.

"Why?"

"B-because it's not his fault," she whispered tearfully. "He didn't do anything. You came after me. Please."

"He didn't do anything?" Bernard hissed. "We've all done something, Donnatella. He played his role in this just like you and me. I don't think I deserve what I got," he used the barrel of the gun to push his shirt open a little. Donna could see heavy bandages on his chest. He'd bled through several of them. "But I got it anyway. Fred certainly didn't deserve what he got. He was one of the cooperative ones, but you had to run your mouth to him, and now he's dead. He's dead and that's your fault. None of us get what we deserve, Donnatella. Except you. You're going to get exactly what you deserve..."

"Hey, what are you doing up?" Josh mumbled sleepily as he came around the corner rubbing his eyes.

"...Right now," Bernard hissed. He turned his gun blindly in Josh's direction and fired. Donna closed her eyes and screamed, and felt the world falling away from her.

She couldn't really see anymore, but she still felt his hands on her. He'd let go of her neck, but he was trying to hold her by the arms. She had to get away. Had to get to Josh, see how bad it was. Oh, God, what if it was too bad to help him? The hands kept grabbing for her, trying to hold her still, but she was managing to slap and push them away for the most part.

"Donna!"

The voice wasn't cutting through her hysteria.

"Donna, stop!"

It was Josh. It was Josh. Her eyes flew open. He was bent over her, hands on her arms near her shoulders. He was breathing almost as hard as she was. "It was a dream," he said. "You were having a bad dream."

She didn't understand right away. She sat up and pushed him back a little, trying to see him in the dim light coming through the window from the streetlamp. "Are you OK?" she whispered, looking all over for a bullet wound. She ran her hands down his torso, lingering momentarily over his chest. "Where are you...did it hit you in the back?" She tried to turn him, still too caught up in the nightmare to realize they were in the bedroom, not the kitchen where they should be. Josh, unaware of what she'd been dreaming, was a little dumbstruck by her actions. She ran her hands down his back and across his sides before he regained the power of speech.

"I'm OK, Donna," he said. "It was a dream."

"It wasn't," Donna said. "It could be the adrenaline, Josh, you might not feel it yet, he was standing too close to have missed you comple—" She jerked her head up toward the bedroom door. "Oh, God," she whispered. "Where is he?"

"Who?" Josh was becoming more and more alarmed.

"Bernard, he—"

Josh bowed his head in worry and defeat. "Donna."

"I think he must have followed us back here from my apartment," Donna was rambling, oblivious to the tears that were falling.

"Donna!" She finally stopped and looked at him.

"It was a dream," Josh said slowly. "There's no one here but us. It was a dream. Everything's OK."

She took a breath. "There's no way in hell that was a dream."

"It was," Josh nodded, placing his hands on her arms to steady her. "You woke me up screaming. You were just dreaming, Donna, that's all. Look. You're still in bed. See?"

He reached over and turned on the lamp, and the light chased away the last of the sleep-induced cobwebs in her brain. She looked down, pinching the bridge of her nose, fighting back a new wave of tears, spawned by shame and frustration. "Dammit," she whispered.

Josh sat back toward the foot of the mattress. "What happened? And don't tell me you don't remember this time."

"I was...I got up to go in the kitchen," she said, still not looking up, her voice thick with tears. "And he was here, he'd followed us back here from my apartment. And I was trying not to wake you because I was afraid of what he'd do, but you woke up anyway, and he shot you. He just turned the gun and shot you. I don't think you'd even seen him yet." She rocked forward a little, tears seeping out from under her closed eyelids. "God."

She didn't feel him scoot closer to her, so she was a little surprised  when she found herself leaning against his chest with her head on his shoulder and his arms around her. She snaked her arms around his waist and pulled him closer. She sobbed a few times in spite of herself.

"It was a nightmare, Donna," he said into her hair in a near whisper. "That's all it was."

"Whole damn thing was a nightmare," she sobbed into his shoulder.

"I know," he said sincerely. "But it's over. You're OK. And it was just a dream. You're gonna have them for a while. I think anybody would. But they're just dreams, Donna."

"God, I thought he was gonna kill you," she whispered tearfully.

"Nothing's gonna happen to me, Donna," Josh said. "I'm fine, I'm perfectly fine. I wasn't even there. Nothing's gonna happen to me."

She started to argue, to say something did happen to him, to say he couldn't know for sure, but she was too tired to fight.

"Promise," she whispered. "Because I don't know what I'd do if it did."

Josh, touched by the admission, squeezed her tighter. "I promise, Don."

She laughed softly, and so did he. "Nice touch. I'm holding you to it."

"Your turn," he said.

"What?"

"You got a promise, what do I get?"

She looked up at his face from where her head rested on his shoulder. "What do you want?"

"An exchange in kind," he said as he looked down at her, smirking just enough that she could see his dimples in the lamplight.

"You want me to promise something? Something else? I already made one promise last night," she said.

"Last night's over," he said, in an echo of that same conversation. "What are you gonna promise me tonight?"

"Well, what did you have in mind?"

"I told you, an exchange in kind. Promise me nothing will ever..."

"Happen to me?" she asked, pleasantly surprised at the return of the sentiment. She nestled her head a little closer to his neck. "We're really not in a position to see these commitments through, you know."

"I know," he said softly. "Say it anyway."

She smiled softly. "I promise, Josh."