"And then in the D-section, with the —"

"Don't change a thing," Josh said over his shoulder to Sam as they made their way across the Northwest Lobby toward the operations bullpen. "The language is perfect. Strong, but not arrogant. Personally, I would have gone with arrogant, but that's me."

"Leo's gonna have kittens over the C-section," Toby said to himself as he flipped through his copy.

"Leo's sold," Josh said. "Seriously guys, it's time to let go of it. You're done. Well, as done as you can be when the President has time on Air Force One to change it."

"Which is, in fact, not done at all," Sam quipped.

"It's a slam dunk," Josh turned and faced them. "I love it, Leo loves it, the President loves it, even if his love does require a little...tweaking here and there. The UN is gonna love it."

Sam was grinning like an idiot. "So that would make Toby and me..." 

Josh grinned back. "Da men."

"Thank you," Sam said, stepping past Josh and heading toward his office. "Right this way, Toby. I'll let you choose whether you want to receive your 'I Told You So's' in my office or your own."

"He really does live in his own little delusion most of the time, doesn't he?" Toby muttered to Josh before following Sam.

Josh turned his back to his open office door and glanced around the bullpen. "Don-na!!!!"

"Oh, good God," Donna moaned as she appeared behind him. Josh jumped.

"I'm gonna attach bells to your shoes so I can hear you coming," Josh said as he turned around and headed into the office. "Like those damn jingle bell earrings you wear every Christmas Eve all day, so that you jingle with every step you take."

"You say that drives you crazy," Donna said as she closed the door behind her.

"I'm rethinking my position on that," he said as he shrugged out of his coat. A little smile spread across his face. His lunch with Toby and Sam had been productive for more than just going over the UN address. He'd also come up with a plan. "Listen, I was thinking—"

"I need to talk to you," she said simultaneously.

It sunk in for the first time that she'd closed the door behind them and the side door was also closed.

"What were you doing in here?"

"Thinking," she said.

"Yeah, well, the taxpayers appreciate your hard work," he tried, but the joke fell flat. "That was..." he tried to wave the comment away with his hand. It had come out sounding meaner than he'd intended it.

"I had lunch with Carol and Bonnie and Ginger today," Donna said as she took short, even steps toward him. There was an edge to her voice. "It was an hour of revelations and enlightenment. You should have been there."

"What happened?"

"Well, first, Greg, who used to live in my building, the one you always said was too good-looking to be straight, stopped by and offered to do a story on me for The Washingtonian. Apparently, people are so obsessed with my misfortune, they won't rest until they hear about it from my own mouth. I'm thinking about taking out a full-page ad in The Post telling them that if they're that damn interested, I'll type it up and sell copies out on Pennsylvania Avenue at lunch! It would be the one good thing that's come out of this whole damn thing for me!" Her voice was at a near shout.

"Donna, shhh," Josh said, taking a step closer to her. The whole bullpen didn't need to know what was going on in there.

"But that wasn't the worst of it. No, that was just some nice guy dredging up my emotional baggage unintentionally like everyone else I talk to these days but you. That was just the appetizer. The kicker came when Carol and I were in the bathroom after lunch, and she told me she stopped by my apartment this morning to see if I'd go to the gym with her. I wasn't there, but my car was, so she couldn't understand why I didn't answer the door," Donna said sarcastically.

Josh's eyes looked like they were going to pop out. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her that I had come in early to work, but she had checked the sign-in log when she got here. I signed in at 7:30; she'd come by my apartment at 5:30. So I was caught," Donna said. "I was caught both in a lie and in a place where I shouldn't have been."

Josh's arms went limp by his sides. "She knocked on your door at 5:30 in the morning?" he asked incredulously. "To ask you to work out?"

"I kinda need you to focus for me," Donna whined.

"Sorry. OK, look. It wasn't a place you shouldn't have been. Her boss already knows, my boss already knows, your boss already knows. We're good. I mean we're trying to keep it quiet, but there's nothing...I mean, you don't feel safe at your apartment right now, which, under the circumstances, I think is understandable. There's nothing wrong with you staying with a friend for a while."

"No, there's nothing wrong with me staying with a friend for a while," Donna said sarcastically as she turned and spread her arms. "No, nobody's gonna care if said friend is both male and my boss. It doesn't matter that we're actually sleeping together either, because it's not what it sounds like. And after all, the Press Secretary and the Chief of Staff already know, so...we're good."

She winced once she'd turned away. The part about sleeping together had just sort of tumbled out.

Josh gulped. "Well, was that what you told her, Donna? Because you know, that's not the route I would've gone. That may have been a tactical error on your part."

Donna turned around to see him smirking. She couldn't help it. She started to smile. He smiled back and shook his head at her. She closed her eyes but couldn't keep her laughter at bay. Soon, they were both laughing at each other, and the tension of the moment was broken.

"It's really not funny, you know," she said.

"I know, but you needed to laugh," Josh said, coming around the desk and standing toe-to-toe with her. "You are being way too hard on yourself, Donnatella." He rubbed the palms of his hands up and down the sides of her arms between the shoulder and elbow as he said it. "See? You're stiff as a board. I could build something with you."

Donna looked down and grinned a little sheepishly. "You don't know how to build anything."

"I could learn."

Donna exhaled slowly. "I'm gonna have to go back to my apartment."

"No, you don't," Josh said. "Donna, this isn't a thing."

"It could very easily become one and you know it. Carol did us a favor today, Josh. If the press were to put together what she did this morning, they'd—"

"I don't care what the press say," Josh said.

Donna looked at him. "First of all, I do not believe that is true. You may not care what they print about you personally, but it would give the administration trouble, Josh, and you do care about that."

Josh looked down at the carpet.

"And so do I. And even if I didn't, I'm not very happy with my recent loss of privacy. I'm already sick of sympathetic stares; I don't want to have to deal with UNsympathetic ones," Donna said.

"But I thought you weren't ready to—"

"I'm not," Donna shook her head. "But I'm gonna have to get ready. Faster. I'm gonna go over there for a couple hours today after work and see how I feel and then…I don't know, but I'm gonna try to get it together enough to stay tonight."

"Okay, first…don't say 'get it together' like you don't have it together every moment of your life. Alright? You keep me together, you certainly keep yourself together, and didn't I already tell you that it was your turn to do whatever you needed to while everybody else took care of you? Second," he continued, not giving her a chance to interrupt. "Stop acting like you're doing something wrong. Regardless of what some people would think or say, Donna, you and I both know that there's nothing…sordid going on here. There never has been. I'm not going to go sneaking around when I have nothing to hide and I'm not gonna let you do it either." He put his hand up to stop her second attempted interruption. "I'm willing to do a few things to make this easier on you, to lessen your worry about this getting out, but we're not going to lose sleep over this, either of us." You're losing enough sleep already, he thought. "Third, I will come over tonight and we'll see how it goes. If you want to stay, fine. If not...like I said, we're not losing sleep over this. Fourth," he stopped and took a breath finally. "Have dinner with me tomorrow night."

She'd been formulating her response to the earlier part of his argument so it took a second for the last part to catch up with her. Her head snapped up. "Excuse me?" They'd had dinner together every night since the thing. But something about the way he'd asked…was different.

"Tomorrow's Friday," Josh said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Have dinner with me tomorrow night."

"Josh," she said, unable to keep the grin off her face. He actually looked a little nervous. "What are you—"

"I owe you dinner at 1789," he said.

Donna's eyes went wide.

"You know, I was just…tomorrow's a week since the thing, and I figured it was as good a date as any to, you know, formally show my appreciation," he trailed off on the last word.

"Josh," Donna drawled, her hand over her mouth.

"Oh, God, don't get all…overly…"

"Right, sorry," Donna said, straightening her posture and driving any trace of tender emotion from her face. "I suppose, if you insist on dragging me to some swanky restaurant and feeding me, then…you know…fine, I guess." She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. "But you don't have to come over tonight."

"I am coming over tonight," Josh smiled and nudged her toward the door with his shoulder. "Get outta here. I need my office so I can think great thoughts."

"You need your office to do that?" she shot back over her shoulder as she walked away.

"I do," he said. Truth was, he needed to make reservations and put the rest of the plan in motion.

"Hey," she said, turning in his office door. "Seems like longer than a week, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," he said softly.

Donna nodded and went back to her desk.

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

After an uneventful afternoon, Donna left around 6:30 for her apartment. Josh worked another couple hours, intending to stop by and check on her after that. Truth be told, he was going to stop by his apartment first and pack a bag. She wasn't up to doing this alone yet, no matter how much she insisted, so if she wanted to stay at her apartment tonight, that was fine, but she wasn't doing it alone. She just didn't know it yet.

"Hey," Sam said as he wandered into Josh's office and dropped into a guest chair.

"What's goin' on?" Josh asked, not looking up from his report.

"You were right. Leo's sold on the UN address."

"Told you."

"Yes, you did. You are the master."

"Just remember that for future reference."

"What future reference?"

Josh looked up from his report for the first time. "Just...any future reference. I am the master. Always remember that."

Sam smiled only slightly and studied the shadows in the corner of the room for a moment. "So, tomorrow's a week since—"

"I know," Josh said.

"Donna OK?"

Josh looked up. "About the same. I don't know how she'll be tomorrow."

"You guys are OK after whatever happened before dinner the other night?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, we...what can I say? I was wrong. I never should have...never should have even thought about...but we agreed to forget about it and move on," Josh said. "So that's what we're doing."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "And you still don't think it would help to tell me what—"

"Shut up," Josh mumbled, having rested his chin in his hands and closed his eyes.

"You should head home," Sam said.

"I am," Josh responded. It wasn't a lie. He was headed home first. His eyes popped open. "Hey, I haven't told you about my plan."

"Plan for what?"

"Tomorrow," Josh said. "I didn't know how she'd react, so...I've got a full day planned. Well, sort of. Leo needs to stay and take a couple meetings, so I'm coming to New York with you guys. I just found out a little while ago. There were a couple seats left on the plane, so I'm bringing Donna."

"Who loves New York," Sam said.

"And is always saying I never take her on the good trips," Josh finished. "Then, tomorrow night, I'm taking her to dinner at 1789."

Sam's eyes went wide. "Josh, are you trying to distract her or planning on proposing to her?"

"No, there's a whole thing behind it, a whole sentimental reason for her, which I'm too tired to explain, but, trust me, it's good," Josh said. "Actually, if I'm worried about her reaction for any of it, it's for tomorrow night. That's when it was actually happening, you know?"

"I know," Sam said. "It doesn't have to mean anything, though, you know? It's just the week mark. It doesn't have to mean she's got to be...deeply moved by it or anything."

"Yeah, and I would agree with that theory Sam, except that half a dozen people, including yourself, have already pointed out to me that it's been a week," Josh said. "So I think that ship has sailed."

"So your plan is to keep her occupied. Keep her too busy or too entertained to think about the thing," Sam said.

"Exactly," Josh said, shutting down his computer and throwing on his suit jacket.

"And how long do you think you can keep that up?"

"I've only got to keep it up the better part of a day," Josh said.

"But what about the next day? And the day after that, and the two-week anniversary, and the month anniversary and the year?" Sam challenged.

"What were you, sent here to foil my plan?"

"I'm just trying to be real here for a second, Josh," Sam countered. "You can't just...fix everything, you can't just be really nice to her and expect it to be...Josh!" Josh finally stopped his frenetic movements around the office.

"This is an open wound. She's going to need time to heal, and I know it's hard to watch, but...it's going to take some time," Sam said solemnly.

"Carol called Donna on not staying at her apartment today," Josh said quietly.

"Seriously?"

"And now Donna's worried about outside and press reaction. She's pushing herself harder to get back there," Josh said. "But I think she's...I don't know. She's not there yet."

"Well, press reaction's a possibility, Josh, if it's found out," Sam said. "And that could make things considerably worse for her. She hasn't enjoyed her week in the spotlight."

"That's an understatement," Josh said.

"She could try CJ's again...or I'm sure Ginger or Bonnie would...hell even I would be preferable as far as image is concerned."

Josh snorted. "Yeah, `cause there's nothing sordid about that thought."

"I'm not her supervisor, Josh," Sam said quietly.

"You think that's what I am to her? Her 'supervisor'?" Josh asked accusatorily. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. She's insisting on trying to stay at her place tonight."

"You think she's ready for that?"

"Of course I don't, not based on what we've seen," Josh said harshly. "But Carol and CJ together have her scared into thinking it's going to be the next Watergate, so she's gonna try."

"And you're going to just...let her."

"I'm gonna check on her later," Josh said quietly. "It's not a matter of 'letting her' or not."

"Josh..."

"I've gotta go," he said coldly. Sam was left standing in the empty room before he could respond.

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

He parked his car two blocks away intentionally and found himself walking with his head down. He'd left his bag in the car, hoping he could sweet talk her into thinking the whole thing was her idea in the first place. He was a master political operative. Surely he could pull off this simple bit of manipulation...for the greater good, that is.

He glanced back at the street as he approached the door and then almost laughed at himself for doing it. So he had to spend less time on the street, he let himself in with the key he'd had since the landlady had given it to them almost a week ago.

He came up the stairs and could hear Donna's muffled voice inside. She was on the phone. He rapped lightly and heard her undoing the chain and deadbolt within seconds. She pulled the door open and resumed a pacing pattern she'd presumably been engaged in before answering the knock. She barely even acknowledged Josh as she opened it.

"How could you do that?" she said, anxiety and desperation dripping off every word. "How clearly did I tell you when we won the election that if anyone ever called, you needed to say that you didn't have anything to say to the press?"

Josh reset the locks behind him and leaned against the door.

"I don't care if he was asking for your potato salad recipe, Mom! You have nothing to say to the press! That is your response to any inquiry." She was rubbing her forehead now like she had a headache. And her eyes were pink and puffy. This was not good.

Josh took a step into the room, trying to make her more aware of his presence without being intrusive.

"I know," she said. "No, I know you didn't mean to cause any problems by it, Mom, but what did you think reporters said when they were looking to do exposés? 'Hi, I'm calling to drag your daughter's name through the mud and I wondered if you'd be willing to talk to me for a bit?'" She ran a hand through her hair, further disheveling it. "What did you tell him, exactly? What did you talk about?"

Well, this wasn't good.

"And what did you say?" she was silent for nearly a minute. "WHAT?!? For God's sake, Mom! Did it never occur to you to call me and ask me if I was OK with this first? I mean why didn't you just break out the baby pictures!" Donna visibly paled as her mother's voice continued on the  other end of the line. She covered her face with her free hand.

"Oh, God. Which ones...never mind. I don't want to know." She sniffled.

"NO! Do NOT call him back. Don't do ANYTHING. Anything at ALL. Don't call him, don't call anyone else, don't ask him not to run it, don't offer more information. Don't do a thing. Nothing," she was seething, almost shaking as her mother's voice continued on the other line.

"I know," she said, a little softer this time. "No. No. It'll be fine, it won't...it shouldn't cause a problem as far as work. No. I just...I would rather not have had to deal with it at all, is what I was trying to say." Another brief silence. "I know, Mom. Don't worry about it. I'll handle it. I'll talk to you later, OK?" She closed her eyes. "I love you too, Mom. I know you're sorry. I know. It's OK. OK. Bye."

She hung up the phone and stood still in the middle of the room, eyes still closed, handset still in her hand. She reached up to rub at her forehead again and Josh finally spoke.

"Hey."

She spun around like she'd half-forgotten she'd let him in. "Hey," she said, tears brimming in her eyes, and obvious in her voice. "I told you you didn't have to come."

"I told you I was coming anyway," Josh said, coming further into the room. He nodded at the handset. "What's going on?"

Donna looked down at the handset again. "The Wisconsin State Journal called my mother saying they were interested in doing a feature article about me. Local girl goes to work at the White House sort of thing."

"And the fact that you were involved in a bank robbery last Friday..."

"Oh, I'm sure they told her that was just coincidental," Donna said, dropping into the chair. Josh sat down facing her on the coffee table. "She bought it. The guy was really friendly, and talked about how great he thought it was that someone from Madison had such an interesting job, and how glad he was that I was OK, and right around that time I'm sure she saw a way to alleviate herself of the guilt she was feeling from her lack of understanding when I told her about the thing, so..."

"She talked," Josh finished. Donna nodded.

"What did he ask?"

"Just biographical stuff mostly. Sadly, that's really all Mom could give him. Details about high school, my incomplete education at UW, I'm sure he'll love that part. Joining the campaign and beginning work at the White House, what little she knew about the robbery, which she didn't want to talk about. She even let him take a couple of old pictures."

"Oh, hell," Josh mumbled.

"Yeah," Donna said. "So, you know, my sophomore band picture is probably going to be published the paper. How mortifying."

"I bet you were cute," he nudged her knee with his own. She smiled a little but didn't respond. "Listen, I know this doesn't make you feel any better, but it honestly does just sound like a local angle on you. There's not much they can do other than talk to your mom and combine that with wire reports. I mean, do you think any other family members they might reach back in Madison who would talk to them?"

"I didn't even think she would," Donna said.

Josh leaned forward a little and tapped the back of her hand with his index finger. "My mom did the same thing when I became Senate Floor Manager," he said. "Huge write-up in the Sunday Hartford Courant. It will be...hugely embarrassing, but it's not going to be a scandal."

"So you're saying I'll look back on this in 15 years and laugh?"

"No, I'm saying, in 15 years it will happen to someone else, and then you'll laugh."

Donna smiled ruefully and scrubbed her face with her hands. "What a night to get brave and come home, huh?"

"Hey, the nice thing about this is, they're in Wisconsin; you're here," Josh offered.

Donna looked at him a little sadly and punched a few buttons on the handset. The answering machine on the sideboard began playing. "You have 11 messages. First message, left today at 11:23 a.m.: Miss Moss, this is Tom Morgan with The Wisconsin State Journal in Madison. I'm calling because I'm doing a story on—"

Donna hit a button on the handset, and the machine skipped to the next message.

"Miss Moss, Tom Morgan again with The State Jour—"

She hit the button again. "Miss Moss, Tom Morgan again, just checking back in. I talked with your—"

She silenced the machine with another button.

"They're all from him?" Josh asked.

"One's a follow-up from Greg letting me know that his editor at The Washingtonian would be very interested in doing the story. Another is from my mother letting me know that a very nice young man from The Wisconsin State Journal MIGHT be calling. Another from my sister, begging me not to kill my mother, and another from my doctor's office reminding me that I have an appointment tomorrow to have my stitches out."

"Seven. Seven are from him. In a day," Josh said.

Donna nodded. "And he's sorry to be such a pest, but he's working on deadline." She exhaled slowly and eyed the answering machine. "I have told her over and over and over not to talk to a reporter," she said, a trace of futility in her voice.

"I'm sorry," Josh said softly.

Donna nodded again. "I know."

Silence stretched between them for a moment, before Josh snapped his head up. "Do you want to know why you won't be calling him back tomorrow?"

"Because I'm not going to be calling him at all," Donna said.

"Wrong," Josh said.

"Excuse me?"

"You won't be calling him because you'll be way too busy tomorrow, what with the United Nations trip and then dinner tomorrow night—"

"You have to go on the trip?" Donna said. "New York?"

Josh nodded and saw the disappointment flicker across her face. "So...we won't have time to do any sightseeing, but New York and back in a day and dinner in Georgetown that night...it's not a terrible way to spend a Friday, right?"

She looked up at him for a second, not wanting to jump to conclusions. "Not a terrible way for who to spend a Friday?"

"Us. We're the only two who are doing both those things," Josh said, unable to hide his grin.

"I'm going? To New York? To the UN? Seriously?"

"No, Donna, I just made all that up to be mean to you," Josh said.

"Josh! I can't believe we're...seriously?"

"OK, when we get on the plane tomorrow, you've got to be a little cooler about it than this," Josh admonished. "You've gotta act like it's no big deal. Otherwise you'll blow your cover."

Donna nodded enthusiastically, wincing at the headache she'd accidentally compounded. "I can do that," she said with a barely detectable sniffle.

"'Kay," Josh said. "And you're not gonna worry too much about some fluff piece in The Cheesehead Times?"

The phone cut off her answer. She looked at the handset and bowed her head dejectedly, holding it out for him to see the Caller ID. The Wisconsin State Journal. "I just want my life back likeit was," she mumbled. She'd tried to make it sound like a joke, but it came out humorlessly. The phone continued to ring.

Without a word, Josh stood and held his hand out to her. She looked at him for only a second before she understood the invitation. She stood and allowed him to pull her to the door. He handed her her coat and purse with his free hand before opening the front door, flipping the light switch and pulling it closed behind him. They were down the hall by the time Tom Morgan began to leave his eighth message of the day.

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

"I wonder when it's going to run," Donna said from her spot in the middle of Josh's bed as Josh came back in the room with a glass of water in his hand.

"I'll tell CJ in the morning and one of the kids from communications will clip it," Josh said as he deposited two Advil in her hand. She let go of Jack to take the water glass from him, but gave it back to him and put her arms back around the donkey immediately. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm supposed to have my stitches out tomorrow morning at 10:30," Donna said, almost to herself.

"We'll already be on the plane by then."

She smiled. "I know."

"What will you do?"

"I don't care. Reschedule for Monday," she yawned. "I'm not missing the trip for some stupid stitches," she mumbled as he laid down and turned off the lamp. Neither one of them even bothered going through the usual charade tonight.

They were silent a moment, while Josh tried not to think about how much he enjoyed having Donna's head on his shoulder and how much he didn't enjoy having Jack's leg poking him in the ribs. "You could always turn this guy's name in to CJ. Have the White House Press Office contact him about proper procedure for interviewing staff," he said.

She gave a little noncommittal shrug. He tilted his head so his cheek rested on the top of her head. "Well, it's either that or change your number."

She giggled and Josh felt like his heart would burst.

"I really did want to go back to my apartment," she mumbled sleepily.

"I know," he said.

"I actually thought I was going to be able to do it, too. I just had to check my messages, didn't I?"

"That'll teach you," he said softly.

"Mmm hmm," she mumbled in agreement.

When he was sure she was asleep, he adjusted Jack slightly so he could breathe again, and stared at the ceiling for a long time, trying to decide why, if they truly weren't doing anything wrong, they both seemed to feel so guilty.