"Because you're a compulsive worrywart, that's how come," Josh said. "Donna, seriously, quit waiting for the other shoe to drop, OK? And quit worrying about the whole 'tempting fate' thing. One of these days, you're gonna have to allow for the possibility that it might be your turn for a good thing to happen. OK?"

"That isn't the way it usually goes for me, Josh."

"Then I'd say you're overdue. It's your turn, Donna. It's your turn to be happy and healthy and...and appreciated." Donna grinned at that. "It's your turn to enjoy the good things you've got coming to you. It's your turn to have a great Valentine's Day. And it's his turn to go jail."

She exhaled slowly, seeming to collect herself.

"Don't you think?" Josh asked.

Donna nodded. "Damn right."

Josh dropped his hands to her shoulders. "That's my girl."

"Oh, and now we start with the possessiveness," Donna teased.

"I can't win, can I?"

"Not likely," she said.

"Alright. I'm waiting for you to show me the way to my first mountain. I'm telling you, I'm gonna do great things for mankind today," Josh said. 

"You've got senior staff in half an hour. Until then, you should read the CDC briefing book," Donna pulled a spiral-bound report off the corner of his desk and dropped it in his hands.

"How am I going to change the world reading briefing memos?" he moaned, crumbling into his chair.

"In your own special way, Josh," she said.

She was in the doorway before she turned back toward him. "Hey," she said softly, leaning against the doorframe. Josh looked up from the report.

"It's your turn to be appreciated too, you know," she said. She was rewarded with a dimpled smile. She pushed away from the doorframe and went back out to her desk.

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

"Mr. Morgan? CJ Cregg, how are you today?"

"I'm…fine, Ms. Cregg, thank you," came the disembodied voice through the speakerphone. "And…and yourself?"

"Just dandy!" CJ said, grinning ear to ear at Donna, who wasn't even trying to hide her smug expression. "How's life in the land of dairy?"

"It's, uh, it's just fine. Was there something I could help you with?"

"Actually, I thought I might be able to help you," CJ said, sweetness dripping from every word.

"Is that so?"

"I understand you've been trying to reach Donna Moss for a quote."

"I have, actually," the reporter said, voice growing stronger by the second. "I tried to reach her at home, but—"

"Yeah, you shouldn't have done that, Tom," CJ said, voice still syrupy sweet but somehow carrying a new seriousness with it.

"I'm sorry?"

"If you wanted to reach Miss Moss, you should have called the press office here at the White House," CJ said. "That would have been easier on everyone than disturbing her at home."

"I actually wasn't able to reach her—" Morgan started.

"Any of the fourteen times you tried," CJ said.

"I was on a deadline," Morgan tried.

"Which you said in the first message," CJ said, a new hardness gradually creeping into her voice. "But that's a difficult concept to understand, so it was probably smart to leave the thirteen subsequent messages, you know, just in case. She works, Tom. She works long hours, we all do. So your best bet was probably to try her at work. You know, by going through the press office."

"It was a personal story," Morgan said weakly. "Not having to do with her job at the White House."

"It was?" CJ asked in seemingly genuine surprise. "Gosh, her mother must have misunderstood you, then."

"Ms. Cregg—"

"Tell you what, though. Since I've got you on the phone, I'll let you tell me what you wanted to ask, and we'll go from there," CJ said, leaning back in her chair.

"She's…she's taking questions from the press?"

"No, no, she's still not taking questions from the press," CJ said, leaning forward toward the phone aggressively. "But if you knew that, why did you call her at home?"

"Because the First Amendment—"

"Is legislation that allows you to print whatever you wish, so long as it's true. But it's not the only law we've got in this country, Tom. We've got all sorts of laws. There are laws against harassment, laws against stalking, all sorts of interesting pieces of legislation we have in this country," CJ twirled a pen in her fingers and Donna clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle any sound.

"Are you saying that you're gonna—"

"Oh, I'm not saying anything, Tom, I'm just shooting the breeze. I just wanted to make sure you knew you could call us anytime you need to reach a White House employee for any story you're doing. And as a follow-up, to let you know that Miss Moss isn't answering any inquiries from the press right now."

Morgan was silent for a moment. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks." His voice was tight.

"We're looking forward to reading the story," CJ said sweetly. "Thanks, Tom. Have a good weekend."

She hit disconnect and stood, reaching over the desk to high-five Donna.

"It's possible I've never had more fun in my life," Donna said.

"Then you really ought to get out a little more, mi compadre," CJ said.

Josh popped his head in the door at that moment. "Are we celebrating some sort of victory?"

"We are, in fact," CJ said, smiling softly at him as she spun back and forth in her chair.

"Did you tell her?" He looked down at Donna.

Donna tilted her head back over the chair, looking at him upside down. "Tell her what?" Her eyes were the size of golf balls.

"About what you did," Josh said.

She sat up and spun to look at him right-side up. "What do you mean, what I did?" She could hear her own heart pounding in her ears.

Josh looked at CJ. "She went back to her place last night."

CJ's face lit up. "And how did it go?" she asked Donna.

"Fine," she said, trying not to let it show how relieved she was Josh hadn't lost his marbles. "I had, you know, a little nightmare, but nothing like that night at your house. It went really well."

CJ was grinning ear to ear again. "Good. Good for you, Donna. I'm glad, I really am."

"Wait a minute, what was the high-fiving about if not—"

"CJ laid the smack down on a certain over-eager reporter from The Wisconsin State Journal," Donna told him.

"Thank you for that," Josh said pointedly. "My way was just gonna generate another story."

"It's about grace, Josh," CJ said. "Grace and skill."

"You're just throwing a little self-appreciation party over there, aren't you?" Josh groaned.

"Well, Josh, those of us without Valentines have to love ourselves a little today," CJ quipped. "Speaking of which, have you talked to Sam? About anything other than the shirt, I mean?"

Josh shook his head. "He's been dodging me ever since."

"That's because you and Toby are mean."

"It's because Sam's a walking sitcom," Josh said.

"Anyway, if you hadn't been tormenting your friend and colleague all morning he would have had the chance to tell you that the Lonely Hearts Club is having dinner at 8. He's reserved a big booth at Galileo," CJ said. "You presence is both expected and required. Both of you."

"CJ…" Josh whined.

"Don't start," CJ warned.

"It's just that it feels so pathetic," Josh said. "All of us out there in a group, advertising to the world that no one wants us because we work too much."

"That's not why no one wants you, Josh, that's just what you tell yourself," CJ smiled.

"Look—"

"No, you do this every year, and you always end up having a great time. And anyway, you're both already included in the head count, so there's no backing out. Neither one of you had plans, or I would have already heard about it," she pointed her pen at both of them.

"Fine," Josh pouted. Donna nodded silently. "I need my next mountain," Josh told her.

"Oh," Donna hopped out of her chair and headed out of the office, Josh right behind her.

"You finished your call with Flint?"

"Yeah," he said, following behind her.

"Then you're done," she said, turning back to smile at him.

"But now our plans are blown," he said softly.

"What plans are those?"

He pulled the blue index card out of his jeans pocket and waved it at her. "I found it when I was on the phone. My Valentine's dinner. 'This coupon redeemable for dinner with a very fascinating woman. Tonight only.'"

"Really?" she said with a grin. "Where do you suppose that came from?"

"Don't know. Who do you suppose the fascinating woman is?"

He should have seen it coming, really. But by the time the pain from the swift smack to the head had begun to subside, she was already in his office waiting for him. He followed after her, like he always did.

"We can move it to lunch," she said. "We're done, and I'm hungry. You pick. We'll go any place you want. Any place in the world."

"Home," Josh said, a sparkle in his eye.

"Any restaurant you want," Donna said, pretending to be unfazed by the implication.

Josh thought for a second. "Any place I want?"

"Mmm hmm."

"And I can order anything I want, without being chastised for how bad it is for me?"

"Hang on, I didn't say—"

"I was really looking forward to dinner, Donna," he said softly. Oh, God. He'd brought out the eyes. The big, sad puppy dog eyes. She was a goner.

"OK," she said. "But only because you can be very sweet when you want to be."

He smiled at her. "Dip's."

She was taken aback. "Dip's? You get a chance at a free dinner and you choose a place where we can both eat for under 10 bucks?"

"Not with dessert," he pointed out.

"Josh, you can choose someplace a little nicer." Dip's was a tiny diner. The traditional kind, in the silver trailer with the booths and lunch counter. They didn't go there often, but Josh swore they had the best burgers in town.

"I want Dip's, Donna. You said any place I want. I want a big greasy half-pound cheeseburger and onion rings that will harden in my arteries as I eat them. I want to sit there and talk to you, and not have to worry about Congressmen or reporters stopping by the table to interrupt us with their important issue of the moment. I want to split a milkshake with you and complain about having to go to this big group thing tonight. I want you to turn my pockets inside out looking for quarters for the jukebox. That's where I want to go," he said. He held up the index card. "And I do believe this coupon entitles me to that."

It took all her willpower not to kiss him right there in the office. "Let's get outta here before something comes up."

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

"And, what for you, hon?"

Donna stared out the window, lost in thought as she watched the light drizzle that had begun to fall again.

"Hon? What for you?"

She jerked herself out of her reverie and turned to the waitress. "Oh. I'm sorry. Uh...just the cheeseburger. The regular-sized cheeseburger, not the one he got that's half the size of the cow." Josh snarled at her as he propped his feet up beside her in their booth.

"Okay," the waitress said as she jotted the order down. "French fries or onion rings?"

"Can I have a little of both?"

"You've been here before, haven't you?" the waitress smiled. "Back in a few minutes."

She looked back out the window as the waitress left, and Josh nudged her with his feet.

"What's so interesting out there?" he said playfully.

"It's raining again," she said.

"I can see that," Josh said. "You aren't gonna talk to me? I'm much more interesting than some stupid rain."

"And articulate too," Donna mused distractedly.

"Donna," he said, leaning his feet against her gently.

She looked down. "Who said I would share my seat with you anyway?" she asked.

"This is how I like to sit," Josh said, dropping a straw into her still untouched Coke and taking a sip of his own. "It's perfectly within the rules of booth etiquette."

She folded her elbow on the other side of his feet and laid her hand on his shin. "Okay," she said, looking out the window once more.

"Donna," he said louder.

"What?" She was defensive.

"Stop worrying about it! All you're gonna do is ruin your weekend."

She picked up the salt shaker and turned it on its side, then proceeded to shift the spilled grains around on the table with her finger. "I can't help it."

"You can," he said strongly. The firmness in his voice came more from support and determination than from accusing her of some shortcoming. "Look how far you've come. This is just your next thing. It's just your next mountain to move."

She squeezed his shin a little and slumped down in her seat, putting her own feet up next to him. He pulled them closer to him immediately.

"I'm too tired to move mountains, Josh."

"You've been moving them all week, Donna. This is just one more. And it's not even a big one. This guy is gonna get what's coming to him, one way or another. Whether he gets bail or not, he's still gonna sit in jail until his trial, and after the trial, he's still gonna spend many years in prison, probably the rest of his life."

"I hope so," she said. "I guess I just keep waiting for things to go straight to hell. Like I'm afraid of being caught unprepared for it."

"Donna, what I've been trying to tell you this whole time is that they already have. What you went through last Friday, the thing, Fred, your shoulder…that was Hell. You've been on the fast track out of there for a week, but you won't allow yourself to breathe easy," he ran his hand along her shin. "Hell isn't where you're going, Donna. It's where you've been. Congratulations, you lived to tell the tale."

She smiled tiredly, sheepishly. "I'm just so sick of thinking about it. I'm just so tired of this being a part of my life. I want it done and over with. I want him sentenced and carted off. Both of them. I don't know if I'm gonna…if I can breathe easy until then."

"I know," Josh nodded earnestly. "But try, OK? It's not good for you."

"Yes, mom," she said dutifully as their food came.

"OK, you know what's wrong with you?" he said sitting up and pulling his feet back to the floor.

"Many things," she moaned.

"Nope," he said. "You just need some mood music, is all. Be right back." He headed for the jukebox at the end of the mostly deserted diner.

She smiled as the vocal harmonies of Thurston Harris & the Sharps filled the room with the first strains of "Little Bitty Pretty One."

"I love that one," she said softly as he slid back into the booth.

"I know," he said with a little smile as he busied himself with his burger.

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

"Because it's just...sad," Josh said as he swatted her hand away from his plate for the fourth time. "And anyway, the idea is, it's those of us who don't have Valentines. The pathetic, the lonely, the rejected. I don't know, I feel like I ought to be wearing a big shirt that says 'LOSER' across the chest."

"You realize the whole thing's just an excuse to get together and drink, don't you?" Donna said, going for another onion ring.

Josh batted her hand away again. "Eat your own."

"All I have left are fries," she pouted.

"Well, then, you shouldn't have ordered half and half," he said around a bite of cheeseburger.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," she chastised as the Impressions' "It's All Right" began on the jukebox. "How many quarters did you put in that thing, Josh?"

He just shrugged. "And anyway, we both have Valentines this year. We shouldn't have to put ourselves through this humiliation."

"No, why do that when we could become the center of attention and tell everyone about the thing on the table?" she said.

He exhaled heavily. "We're supposed to be thinking."

She nodded. "Yes."

"And discussing."

"Yes."

"So that we can get closer to the time when we take the issue off the table," he raised his eyebrows at her and grinned.

"You betcha."

"Not spending our time grousing over having to go to group things that Sam organized."

"That does seem to be a waste of time," Donna took the last sip of her soda.

Josh chewed thoughtfully on another bite of hamburger as he looked at her. "What are you doing this afternoon?"

She batted her eyelashes coyly. "Well, what did you have in mind?"

Josh stifled a groan. "Well, things that are definitely not allowed under Rule Number One, thanks to that," he said.

"Seriously," she said, leaning back in her seat.

"Well, have you thought about anything yet? I mean, anything to discuss?"

Donna squirmed in her seat a little. "Well, I haven't really...I mean, sure. Sure, I could discuss some things if you wanted to. I mean, nothing big. Nothing too heavy. But we could talk about, I don't know, some of the logistical issues at hand.

Josh nodded. "We could. And I mean, the sooner we start discussing, the sooner..."

"You can demonstrate the table innuendo you're so fond of?" Donna asked.

He grinned at her lopsidedly. "Something like that. First, though, we've got a very important decision to make."

She raised her eyebrows. "What's that?"

He pulled the dessert menu out from behind the napkin dispenser and held the list of milkshakes in front of her. "Chocolate or Banana?"

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

They were halfway through their chocolate milkshake when Josh's final jukebox pick came on the radio.

Donna recognized the Ritchie Valens tune immediately. She let her straw slip from her lips as she stared at him over the milkshake glass.

Josh pulled back and stared at the table, suddenly more fidgety than before.

It was several seconds before she could bring herself to speak. "'Oh, Donna'?"

He picked furiously at a chipped corner of the table. "That's probably really stupid," he said, laughing at himself embarrassedly. "Probably every guy you ever dated has, you know, at one time or another..."

She reached forward and stilled his hand, running her thumb across his knuckles slowly. She kept her eyes fixed on their hands for the remainder of the song, not trusting herself to look him in the face.

The song faded out, and she lifted her eyes to his.

"Let's get outta here."