After his meetings with Stanley that winter, Josh understood better why his nightmares were built the way that they were. Rarely did he dream about what he saw the night of the shooting. The sights of that night were secondary in his subconscious. Even now, on the rare occasion when he dreamt about it again, he dreamt in sounds.

The panicked cries of the crowd. The sound of footfalls on the pavement. The voices of the people around him. The chorusing sirens that built slowly, but surely, into a bone-chilling symphony.

He startled and jerked his head up off the pillow. The sounds always followed him into waking a little, but he'd learned what to do now. Learned how to deal with it. He let his head drop back to the pillow and forced himself to breathe deeply as he waited for them to subside.

And they did. One by one, the sirens faded, the voices became whispers and then silence, the footfalls became pitter-patters and then nothingness, and the cries of the crowd died down, each in its own time.

He waited several seconds for the last bit of whimpering to subside before he realized that it wasn't in his head. He shifted his eyes toward the sound.

"Donna," he whispered, voice thick with sleep. She was on her side facing away from him. "Donna," he tried a little louder. More soft whimpering.

Finally awake just enough to make his limbs move, he rolled onto his side and put an arm around her. "It's a dream, Donna," he said into her ear, voice still raspy from lack of use. "It's just a dream. Wake up."

He felt her startle and the whimpering stopped. "Josh?" she drawled.

Still half asleep, he nudged her ear with his nose. "You were dreaming. It's OK."

"Oh," she said in a drowsy, teary voice. She rolled onto her back and he leaned away to allow her room, propping his head up on his right hand, but leaving his left his arm across her. "Oh." She looked at him for a second, then at the ceiling, blinking back big teardrops.

"You OK?" he asked, reaching up and wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks without thinking.

She was calm on the outside, and the shake of her head was almost imperceptible, but Josh caught it. "Donna..."

She blinked and another big tear rolled down her cheek. Her face contorted and she turned it into his chest as she rolled onto her side so she was facing him.

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tightly as he felt her shoulders shake with a few silent sobs. He shushed her gently. She quieted moments later and rolled back onto her back.

"You wanna tell me what it was about?"

She was silent for a few seconds, thinking. "It was just about that night. Him."

"What about him?"

She shook her head again. "Just about that night."

Josh titled his head forward into the pillow. "What about that night?" The question was muffled as he tried to haul himself out of his sleepy state.

Donna was silent. He lifted his head again. "Donna. It really might help if you talked about it a little bit."

A few tears made their way across her temples and into her hair. She wiped them away with the cuffs of her sweatshirt. "Just some of the things he said."

Josh's heart jumped into his throat. "Such as?"

Donna sighed. "Just...when he got my license. And my White House ID. My conversations with him weren't very pleasant, Josh."

"He told you he'd come find you after it was over," Josh said very softly, remembering her statement. "Donna, he's hospitalized. He's hospitalized and under guard."

"I know," she said. "Which is why I feel so stupid. And then the other stuff, which was really just to get under my skin. God, I wish it didn't bother me, but it does."

"What other stuff?" Josh said, pulling her closer and tucking her head under his chin as a new wave of tears started.

"Just…he was pretty excited when he realized I worked at the White House," she whispered. "He was pretty sure things were gonna go his way then, and he got a little arrogant. A little taunting."

Josh thought for a second before he finally asked the question. "When you were giving your statement, when you talked about that part, you said, 'The President of the United States does not negotiate with terrorists.' What did you mean by that?"

"He doesn't, Josh."

"I know, but...why did you say it?"

She was silent for a moment, not wanting to voice the answer. "Josh, he invoked 25 when Zoey was kidnapped. He removed himself from power to keep the government from being put into a vulnerable position. He turned his daughter's life over to the Speaker of the House, because for him to remain in office would have been too big a temptation to negotiate, and that's a line that can't be crossed, for the country's sake. He certainly couldn't have crossed it for m—"

"We never would have left you," he said firmly as he held her even closer. "Don't ever think that. We didn't leave Zoey, and we wouldn't have left you. I'm not saying we would have gone on national television begging for...but there were ways we could have given them enough to get you out safely without it looking to the world like the President had gone soft. We never would have left you, Donna. Don't ever think that we're gonna leave you hanging out to dry, OK? You're a part of this thing, as much as any of us. And anyway, I couldn't get a damn thing done without you."

Donna couldn't help laugh a little and she rolled away from him, fishing for something under the covers.

"So anyway, just...it bothered me that you might have thought that. So...if you are, stop. We have your back, Donna. I'll always have your back."

She grinned at him lopsidedly as she finally pulled Jack out from under the blanket. "I know."

"'Kay. I'm gonna get you some water," he moved to get out of bed.

"I don't want any," she said, not wanting to lose her close proximity. She was trying her best to ignore it, but to be totally honest she wasn't completely over the thing before dinner last night. Things felt normal between them, but...she was enjoying being physically close to him a little too much. She'd told Josh they could forget it, but...she couldn't. At least she hadn't yet.

"Well then, I'm gonna get myself some," Josh said.

He wandered into the kitchen and dawdled with the simple task, trying to give himself time to get his anger under control. He didn't want Donna to know how bothered he was by it. And she could read him like a book. He set the glass down on the counter with a heavy clunk. That son of a bitch. He pulled the water bottle out of the fridge and twisted the cap. What possible reason would you have to want to scare someone like that? Cruelty. That's the only reason. He filled the lowball glass ¾ of the way. I wish I had been there. Or, as long as I'm wishing for things, I wish she hadn't been there. Either would do.

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

"Hey," Toby called from behind Josh in the corridor.

"Hey," Josh turned around, looking up from his memo.

"Donna tell you lunch is the only time we can all get together today?" Sam and Toby needed Josh's eyes on the final draft of the UN address to make sure there were no policy conflicts. It was the last step before Leo gave it another look and OK'ed it. Then all that was left was the President's tweaking, which would be done on the plane and literally up until the last minute.

"Yeah, that's fine. We'll order in or something," Josh said as he continued to read and walk.

"No, Roosevelt's booked all day, and if I have to look at the inside of my office any more I think I may come unglued. I had Ginger reserve a back booth at the Palm," Toby said, laying a hand on Josh's elbow and steering him around a few people in his path he failed to see because of his reading.

"OK," Josh said, not looking up. "Come get me when you're ready."

"You OK?" Toby asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"You're studying that briefing memo like you're on your way to take an exam on it."

"Debbie takes issue with me remembering the salient details of the memos," Josh said.

"OK, but...Josh, that's the briefing memo for the senior staff meeting we just had 5 minutes ago," Toby said.

Josh stopped in his tracks and looked at the memo header again. "Dammit."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," Josh said. "I'm just a little tired I guess."

"Donna's nightmares keeping both of you up?"

Josh spun his head to see if anyone in the communications bullpen had heard them before herding Toby into his office.

"How did you know she's having nightmares?" Josh said after he closed the door.

"CJ told me."

"CJ told you. CJ's got a big mouth," Josh spat.

"She was a little worried," Toby said.

"Well, she needs to worry privately. It's not gonna help Donna if this gets spread all over the Beltway. She feels like she's under a microscope as it is," Josh said.

"It's just the buzz right now. It'll die down. I've seen it a hundred times," Toby said. "Soon she'll be yesterday's news."

Josh leaned against the door and stared at the carpet for a second, lost in thought. "The one last night wasn't as bad as the one at CJ's. She just woke up crying, that's all. She wasn't disoriented. That's actually an improvement."

He took two steps toward Toby and lowered his voice. "This guy, the ringleader. He threatened her during the thing. Told her he was going to come after her when she got between him and a teller he was harassing. Intended to use her as leverage when he found out she worked at the White House. When she gave her statement...when the SWAT team came in, he used her as a human shield for all intents and purposes. She's just...I don't know. She's in the hole, Toby."

"Sam told me about the guy," Toby said. "She just needs some time, Josh. She's stronger than you give her credit for. She needs a little more time. Tomorrow's just a week since the thing, after all."

"You know, this guy...when I see how rattled she is by what he did, how terrified she is by what he said," he exhaled in a huff. "The wrong guy died at that bank, you know?"

Toby was unmoving. "Yeah."

"And it bothers me that I feel like that," Josh said, pressing his fingertips into his chest. "All this talk of believing in rehabilitation and second chances and not believing in capital punishment...what I'd really like is five minutes in a room with the guy and a baseball bat."

"Yeah."

"And I don't like that I feel that way," Josh said, putting his hands on his hips.

"You're dealing with this, aren't you?" Toby said after a second.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you handling yourself where this is concerned, or does somebody need to—"

"No," Josh put his hands up to cut Toby off. "I'm handling it, I'm fine. It just gets a little hard watching her break down every night."

Toby nodded. "OK."

"I've got the guy from the EPA. I'll see you at lunch," Josh said and opened the door. He stuck his head back in at the last minute. "Hey...a week? Tomorrow's a week since the thing?"

"Yeah," Toby said, looking up from his pad. "It was Friday night."

"Huh," Josh said to himself. "I'll see you later."

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

For once, the fates were with them. CJ had a lunch meeting scheduled as well, so Donna, Ginger, Bonnie and Carol took the opportunity to sit down at a restaurant and eat a real meal at noontime.

The rules for occasions like this were simple. Work didn't get discussed, unless it was personal gossip. This was all about catching up, laughing at each other, and swooning over the guy who brought the water cooler containers in twice a week. Donna was nearly halfway through her shrimp salad when a familiar voice caused her to turn around. "Donna?"

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Greg. Hey."

"Hey." There was an awkward pause before he reached down and gave her a brief hug. "You look good."

"Thanks. You too," Donna said. "How have you been?"

"Good, actually," Greg said. "Annie and I are getting married."

"Greg! Good for you!" Donna said.

"You still at the old place?"

"Yeah," Donna said. "Until they dramatically drop the rent in DuPont, that's where I'll be."

Greg smiled. "I miss Adams Morgan sometimes," he said.

Donna rolled her eyes. "Oh, God, I know. It must suck living in Georgetown, it's such a hole!"

"Well, God bless Annie's loaded parents," he said after a laugh. "Listen, I read about the...about the bank."

"Yeah," Donna nodded.

"You OK?"

"Sure. Why, don't I look it?"

"You look great. I already said that," Greg reminded her.

"Yeah, I know, I just wanted to hear it again. Are you still freelancing?"

"Actually, I'm on staff now at The Washingtonian," Greg said,deftly flipping a business card out of his wallet in one smooth motion.

Donna held the card between her fingers. "Ah."

"Yeah," Greg said. "I'm enjoying it, but I've only been there a couple months. I'm still working on raising my name recognition to a respectable level. Not that you'd know anything about that, you instant darling of the Beltway media, you."

"Don't get me started on that," Donna groaned.

"No, seriously, Donna, you've made it. Annie reads Stu Winkle's column religiously. All the girls at her office are talking about you," Greg teased.

"Really?" Donna's voice was a little strangled. "Well, there's nothing to talk about. Except that if you stand too close, you're in danger of having a diabetic seizure," she said.

""Sugar shock,'" Greg quoted. "But I know better."

"Yeah, well, spread the word, would you? I'm sick of the attention."

"You could do it yourself, you know," Greg said. "Spread the word, I mean."

"How?"

"Have you thought about doing any interviews?" he said, as casually as he could.

"No," she shook her head immediately.

"It's a good human interest story, Donna. Covering the event from your angle. I'd be happy to do it, if you decided you wanted to," he offered.

"I don't think so, Greg," Donna said.

He shrugged amiably. "OK, just...if you change your mind, you're holding my card."

"Right," Donna said.

"OK, I'll see you later. Good to see you," he said as he backed away.

"You too."

She stared at the card for a few seconds before she remembered her lunch companions and looked up.

They were all staring, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, forks frozen in mid-air in some cases.

"Dear Lord," Bonnie growled. "What I wouldn't give to have loaded parents and be named 'Annie.'"

The entire table burst into laughter.

"How do you know him?" Ginger asked, craning her neck.

"He used to live in my building, a couple doors down from me," Donna said. "But he was already dating Annie when he moved in."

"That's a damn shame," Carol said around a forkful of her own salad.

"Yeah," Donna said, staring at the card again. "Hey, would you guys read a story about my version of the bank robbery?"

"Donna," Carol admonished. "CJ knows what she's talking about. Give it a few days. It hasn't even been a week."

They wrapped up lunch and Donna and Carol ducked into the bathroom while Ginger and Bonnie placed a take-out order for Margaret, who'd been chained to her desk with Leo barking orders all day.

Carol was applying a fresh coat of lip gloss when Donna came out of the stall. "You ever run anymore?" she asked.

"Not lately," Donna said. "It's been so cold and I've been so busy. I haven't even been to the gym in weeks."

"I hear you," Carol said. "Listen, Donna...if you ever want any company at night, at your place...or if you want to stay somewhere else...you know my door is always open, right?"

Donna kept a carefully schooled neutral expression on her face. "Sure. But I'm doing OK, Carol. I mean, the nights aren't my favorite thing in the world, but I'm doing OK."

"I just thought you might not be feeling safe at your place alone," Carol offered. "I'm not sure I would if it were me."

"Yeah," Donna said as she scrubbed her hands. It wasn't meant to be an acknowledgement or an affirmation. It was just the only thing she could think to say.

"I got a free week pass to a new gym," Carol said, seemingly changing subjects quickly. "I'm not going to stay, it's too expensive and our gym's more convenient, but it has an indoor track. I was on my way over there this morning and on a whim decided I'd see if I could drag you along with me. You didn't answer your door or your phone. It was 5:30 in the morning."

Donna kept her eyes schooled on her hands as she dried them a little too thoroughly with the paper towel. "Yeah, I...it was an early morning. Josh is trying to work the Senate for the Teacher Corps—"

"Your car was there."

Donna lifted her eyes to Carol's.

"You car was there," she said again, simply. "Donna. Listen to me, OK? I don't care. I'm not going to tell anybody, I'm not gonna chastise you for it, I don't need you to make an excuse or an explanation. If you're safe and happy, then I'm happy for you. We haven't got a problem. But the thing is, while there's still all this media attention on you, you need to be careful. The fact that you took your car there shows forethought toward making it look like you were there. That immediately negates any credibility to the claim, 'It's perfectly innocent. Nothing inappropriate is going on.'"

Donna swallowed hard, unable to formulate a response.

"This is what I do, Donna," Carol said gently. "I've studied at CJ's knee for years now. Trust me when I tell you, if I stumbled on it perfectly innocently, then it's possible a reporter could stumble on it, too. I know you don't feel like a story right now, but as your old pal Greg just demonstrated, you are. You're the cool angle, the way to turn this into a feature, something to put them on the Sunday front. He's not the only one who's going to be asking you for an interview. And CJ can't keep the press away from you when you leave the White House."

Donna felt tears of embarrassment and mortification stinging in her eyes. "I'm not—"

"Have I ever told you," Carol interrupted her, a practiced casual air to her tone, "how much I love Josh?"

Donna just looked at her.

"I'm serious. I adore him. I think he's an absolute sweetheart, for all his blustering and attempts to prove otherwise," she paused. "You deserve someone sweet like that."

"Carol—" Donna was shaking her head vehemently.

Carol put her hands up. "I'm just trying to tell you, I'm not saying this because I'm against...anything. I'm telling you because I care about you. I'm just saying...think about how your actions appear from the outside looking in. If you think you're at the center of attention now, then...you don't want the kind of attention you would get if...things were misinterpreted."

Donna bowed her head and looked at her hands again.

"Just...I don't know where you were this morning," Carol said. "But I know you didn't sign in at work until 7:30. I checked. So I know you just lied to me. What I'm saying is, if you were where I think you were, fine. But if you're lying about it, while the media are watching you...just be careful, Donna. Think about what things look like for a few days, NOT what they are. And be careful."

She squeezed her lightly on the elbow and pushed the door open.

"He's my best friend," Donna said in a near whisper. "I just, I've really needed a friend since...and he's my best friend."

Carol turned in the doorway with a sad, sympathetic smile. "I know. But they won't care."

Donna started the faucet again and leaned over, splashing a little cold water on her face. She cast her eyes at her reflection as she reached for another paper towel. Greg was a liar. She looked like shit.