"Hey." Sam was standing beneath the overhang in front of the restaurant, coat hitched high around his shoulders, a cautious look on his face. The rain had let up momentarily, but the cold was being relentless.

"Hey," Josh approached, breathing on his hands to warm them. "I think I've lost my gloves."

Sam stared at him slack-jawed. "That's it? That's all you have to say to me? No 'Hey, Cupid'? No 'Well, if it isn't St. Valentine'? No cracks about my manhood?"

Josh stared at him for a second. "No."

"CJ got to you?"

Josh nodded. "And Donna."

"Figures."

"I notice you changed the shirt though," he said.

"I'm not a complete dumb ass, Josh, all evidence to the contrary," Sam turned to see Donna coming down the street. "Hey."

Donna was coming toward them at an easy stride, a thoroughly content expression on her face. She was still wearing the red cashmere sweater from earlier in the day, and her hair was still pinned up in the much-discussed hair clip. She wore straight leg black pants and boots with a substantial heel. Her knee length black coat, black gloves, sleek black purse left her looking very put together.

In that moment, lit from behind by the city lights, hair glowing even under her open umbrella, Josh nearly forgot himself, in front of Sam and all of 21st Street.

"Hello," she said, little grin crossing her features as she looked at Sam, and lingered just a moment too long on Josh. "You two have managed to keep yourselves out of trouble thus far?"

"For the most part," Sam said, making room for her beneath the overhang.

He needed to say something. Anything. Anything that didn't have to do with how gorgeous she looked, and how much he wanted to skip dinner. Anything that didn't give them away. Anything. Anything at all.

"I think I've lost my gloves," he blurted.

Donna and Sam both stared at him, bemused expressions on their faces.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, Josh," Donna said, fighting a smile.

Josh looked down at his feet and toed the sidewalk.

"Good evening, my fellow lonely hearts," CJ declared and she came around the corner, dragging Toby with her. "Lonely hearts which shall be lonely no more, because tonight, we share friendship. And laughter. And food. And drink."

"I think you've been partaking of the drink already," Toby said.

"Not at all, mi amor. I'm simply dizzy with joy this night, despite the fact that it once again serves as a reminder that I am destined to grow old and die alone," she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and talked directly to the side of his face.

"I can't imagine why," he looked at the group. "I'm headed for the bar."

"Who are we missing?" Sam asked.

"Carol's coming. And Ed and Larry," CJ said.

"We'll wait on them, but let's do it inside," Sam said. "I've got icicles forming on my face over here."

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

The waiter was taking their drink orders when Carol, Ed and Larry were led in by the maitre' d. Donna ordered a glass of red wine and excused herself to head to the restroom. Josh had waited about a minute, pretending to be interested in the story of Larry's latest romantic failure, before he got up and headed in that direction as well.

He was standing in the dimly lit alcove, between the doors to the two restrooms, pretending to be inordinately interested in his watch when the door to his right opened and he met her at the threshold.

"What's the—"

He swept her into the tiny nook where a payphone was mounted to the wall by the women's restroom, pressed her against the wall and kissed her, the same way she'd kissed him that afternoon.

He ended the kiss much quicker out of necessity, pulling back and letting his eyes dance over her lips and throat.

"Hi."

She fought the huge smile that was threatening. "Hi?"

"I don't think I've said hello to you yet. So I wanted to, you know, do that. Hi."

She grinned ear to ear. "No, earlier you said something about some missing gloves, but you did not say hello."

"I just did, didn't I?"

"Hi," she whispered.

He gave her another quick peck on the lips. "You look great."

"I'm wearing basically the same thing as before," she said.

"You looked great before."

"Ah. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Let's skip dinner."

She laughed. "We can't. I can't believe you just kissed me in a restaurant."

"I was careful."

"Not with your tongue, you weren't."

He grinned. "Look who's talking. Little Miss Can't-Get-Enough-of- Josh's-Hot-Body from this afternoon."

"Not in public! What were you doing, just hanging out by the women's restroom waiting on me to come out? You don't think everybody with a line of sight to these doors could tell what you were doing?"

"I think they probably thought I was trying to figure out which of these doors was the men's room and which was the ladies' room, which was actually true." He gestured to the two doors with his hand. "I hate when restaurants do this. I just wanna eat and leave without being made to feel stupid."

Donna glanced out into the restaurant to see if anyone was looking their way. Seeing no one, she leaned into him and snaked her arms around his waist. "The ladies' room is the one that I came out of," she said lowly.

"I'm saying how did you know—"

She dropped a light kiss on his cheek near his jaw bone. "The door marked 'Uomini' is the men's room. Uomini is the plural of the word uomo, which is Italian for man." She sucked his earlobe between her teeth gently and felt his body tense, which made her smile. "The door marked 'Donne' is the ladies' room. Donne is the plural of donna, which is Italian for woman. And American for me."

He smiled and leaned forward, pushing her head back against the wall gently. "Bella Donna," he whispered against her lips. She smiled. "Brilliant bella Donna."

She allowed herself two seconds to enjoy being in his arms, then pushed him away. "Okay, we've gotta stop pushing our luck. I'm going back to the table. You're going to the men's room."

"I understand," he leaned over, pushing against her hands, and kissed her gently.

"Josh?"

"Hmm?"

"Which one is the men's room?"

He pulled back, wracking his brain. "The one marked U-something."

"Close enough." She hooked her fingers in the collar of his sweater and pulled his face toward hers. "You look great tonight too." She dropped a light kiss on his lips and pushed against his collarbone. "Go away."

He disappeared behind the heavy swinging door, and Donna touched up her lipstick in the reflective face of the payphone before heading back to the table.

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

"I thought Ginger was swinging single tonight," Donna said to Carol over her wine glass.

Carol looked up from her lasagna. "The insurance guy called."

Donna nearly choked. "Noooo!"

Carol nodded, shoving another forkful in her mouth.

"The lobbyist from Morgan Stanley?" Sam asked. Carol nodded again. "That guy is an unmitigated jackass."

Josh glowered at the three of them, clearly miserable.

CJ leaned into the conversation. "How?"

Sam looked up when he realized she was looking at him. "How...what?"

"How do you know the insurance guy is—"

"He called her a month ago and asked her out after he was introduced to her at some concert at the Kennedy Center," Sam said. "She was bouncing off the walls in communications all day. The next day she came in looking happy and like someone who had clearly had sex on a first date, and should regret it but doesn't, because obviously, this is the person they're going to marry. And she kept waiting for him to call, to send flowers, to do something. You can probably guess the rest."

"Whoa," CJ said, voice bordering on an awed whisper. "That really is an unmitigated jackass."

"This is what I'm saying," Sam skewered a bite of chicken primavera angrily. "The morning after that she came in looking hung over and brokenhearted."

"He called about two weeks later with some story about having to whisk out of town at the last minute for business," Carol picked up.

"Like his travels as an insurance lobbyist are gonna take him someplace where they don't have phones that dial out," Donna said.

"I can't believe Ginger would put up with that," CJ said, shock evident in her voice.

Josh, bored to tears with the conversation, finished with dinner and not wanting to drink anymore for fear his sensitive system might cheat him out of any after dinner "discussion," decided he'd see what Donna could do to move the conversation along a little. But he'd have to get a message to her. One no one else would pick up on, but she'd understand clearly. This wasn't a problem. The two of them were practically telepathically linked.

He stared at her for a few seconds, willing her to look his way, but Donna was engrossed in "The Ginger Chronicles" and didn't feel his eyes boring holes in the side of her face. Ed, however, did notice it, and gave Josh a quizzical look, which caused him to discontinue that method. He needed another way.

"Apparently he's quite the charmer," Donna was saying to CJ. "I thought between Margaret and I we had her talked into the idea that he was a world-class jerk last week. I can't believe she'd even stoop to speak to him again."

"I can't believe the people sitting at this table having this conversation are responsible for a significant portion of the work required for running the country," Toby moaned. "Moreover, I can't believe the person most informed on the topic is Sam. No wonder you're so berserk lately. You spend all your energy keeping up with the love lives of our assistants."

"I do not!" Sam protested.

Josh was struck with an idea. Touch. He and Donna communicated very well by touch. A simple nudge under the table and she could break this little party up, and no one would be the wiser. Sam was directly across from him; Donna was to Sam's right. He'd have to be careful to avoid Carol, who was seated immediately to his left across from Donna, but if he moved slowly, he could probably reach her without anyone noticing...

"I just hear things," Sam was saying. "I can't help but hear things, the entire front of my office is made of glass. The assistants talk, and I can't help it if my superior intellect pieces the tidbits together to form a complete picture on an almost subconscious level. And anyway, Bonnie and Trey are getting along great right now, so Ginger's is the love life with all the interesting developments at the office."

"OK, something for you to realize," Toby said, gently rotating his drink on the table. "I work two feet from you, and I didn't know any of that. I'm too busy trying to do the bidding of my President." Sam broke the glare he was directing at Toby and began to look a little distracted, but Toby continued, undeterred. "So, I suppose the question I'm asking is this...am I the only person in the room right now who actually—"

"Hey, Josh?" Sam interrupted him.

Josh was intensely concentrating on the wall just behind Donna, trying to look her direction without actually looking at her. She continued to ignore his persistent nudging at her foot, so he'd moved a little higher up her leg. Still nothing. The woman was a master of keeping up appearances.

"Josh," Sam said more sternly.

Josh snapped from his trance. "Yeah?"

"I know it's Valentine's Day. And I realize you might be a little lonely. And far be it from me to judge who you want to pursue a relationship with, but if you don't get your foot the hell off of me, I'm gonna break your leg."

Oh, hell.

Donna's eyes grew to be the size of golf balls as she stared at him. Donna and the rest of the table. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Everyone froze for several seconds. Finally, unable to contain her amusement any longer, Donna let out a very unladylike snort into her wine glass and the rest of the table followed with her, erupting into uproarious peals of laughter.

"What the hell is going on under there?" CJ howled as she lifted the tablecloth.

"I...nothing! I thought it was the table leg!" What? He couldn't say he thought it was Donna's leg and he was trying to tempt her into calling it an early night because he couldn't stand to be in the same room with any of them anymore. It was the best he could do on short notice.

This caused Donna to break down even further. She had tears in the corners of her eyes and she slumped in the seat laughing.

"You were doing some serious lovin' up on that table leg," Sam supplied, to the sheer glee of everyone else at the table.

"I'm actually having an okay time now," Toby said pointedly to CJ, who was crying over her pasta.

"It was...I had an itch on my foot and I was just trying to—"

"Stop!" CJ howled, reaching around Carol and laying a hand on his shoulder. "Just give it up, mi amor. Anything you say at this point will only make it worse."

"But..." CJ shook her head at him. Josh looked at Toby. "But..." He looked around the table. Not a single face offered sympathy. He folded his arms over his chest and slumped in the chair dejectedly. "You're all going to hell if I have absolutely anything to say about it."

Sam looked at the ceiling for a second, as if carefully weighing this option. "Well, if you go lovin' up the right leg at the right time, and you actually might have an awful lot to say about it."

They had just been starting to get themselves back under control, but that was enough to send them back over the edge. Most of the dining room was staring, but they didn't care. Eventually, they began to shush each other, worried about being asked to leave.

The waiter, having been put upon by his manager to quiet down the group, appeared at the end of the table. "Would anyone care for dessert?"

"NO." Josh stared him down.

"Yes," Toby said.

"Oh, the hell you do, you're just trying to make me—"

"I'll have a piece of the tiramisu," Carol said.

"No, you won't. We're done," Josh said.

"Oh! Make that two," Ed added.

"Three," Larry chimed in.

"I just need a refill," Toby shook his empty bourbon glass at the waiter.

"My hatred for all of you is increasing exponentially," Josh growled.

"You're being a spoilsport, my darling," CJ said. "I'll have the seven-layer chocolate cake."

"Now there's a woman who's in need of some loving of Valentine's Day," Carol smiled.

"And in the absence of any love, chocolate is a perfectly acceptable
substitute," CJ said.

"Would you rather come sit by Josh?" Sam offered. Half a second later, he yelped loudly and jostled the table. Josh sneered.

"That's enough," Donna said, putting her hand on Sam's forearm. "You've gotten him back for the shirt thing," she pointed at Sam. "And you are a grown-up in a public place." She swung the finger on Josh.

"Way to get mom pissed at us, Josh," Sam said, only half-kidding. Donna reached over and pinched the back of his hand, a little harder than she had to to make her point.

Josh's expression changed to a smug, self-satisfied smirk. "You were saying?"

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

They spilled onto the wet sidewalk after dessert, all snuggling deeper into their coats and commenting on the temperature.

"Give me your keys," Toby turned to CJ.

"Why?"

"So I can drive you home, you drunken lush. Give me your keys."

CJ pouted momentarily but eventually dug her keys out of her coat pocket and dropped them in his hand. Toby disappeared around the corner. CJ turned and looked at the group.

"I'm not too drunk to drive home, but I'm too drunk to care about arguing with him."

The laughter she got in response was punctuated by a loud sneeze from Donna.

"Aha!" Josh turned and pointed at her. "I told you you were gonna get sick."

Donna rubbed at her nose furiously, trying to tamp down the follow-up sneeze that was threatening. "Shut up."

"Listen to yourself, you already sound stuffy!" Donna sighed and wrapped her scarf tighter around her throat as Josh took two steps toward her. "What did I say last night?"

Donna just looked at him as if the question hadn't been English.

"What. Did. I. Say. Last. Night?"

"That I was gonna get sick because I went out without a coat."

"That's correct. And here is my vindication and proof, that I was, in fact, right," Josh turned to the group as if expecting a round of applause.

"What the hell are we talking about?" CJ asked.

Sam pulled his gloves on. "Josh took Donna out to dinner last night because of the thing at the bank and I'm assuming she didn't wear a coat."

"Because of the thing?" Carol furrowed her brow and looked at Donna.

OK. She could do this. She just had to stay calm and explain it like it was a totally platonic thing. Which was how it had started out, after all. Well, sort of. "I-it was a week yesterday since the thing. A week last night, actually. And Josh took me to dinner in an attempt to, you know...I mean it was better than sitting around and just thinking about it."

CJ's face softened noticeably and she looked at Josh. "That is so sweet."

Josh looked at her for a moment. "Shut up."

"I'm still not understanding the part where you didn't wear a coat," Carol pressed.

"It ruined my look."

"Oh," CJ and Carol nodded in unison.

Josh was slack-jawed. "This is a woman thing, then?"

"It is," Carol nodded.

"Wait a minute..." CJ was just beginning to put the pieces together. "Didn't wanna ruin the...Donna!!! Did you wear that dress?!?"

Donna stared at her wide-eyed. "No."

"Donna!"

Donna flinched. "A little bit."

"You wore it a little bit?" CJ asked.

"Kinda, yeah."

"The dress from New York?" Carol jumped in on the action. "You wore the dress from New York to a regular old dinner?!?"

The men in the group, including Toby, who'd pulled the car around by now, watched in fascination as CJ and Carol ganged up on Donna.

"I was excited to wear it," Donna said, backing away from them slowly. "It was new, and I had an opportunity."

"Donna, dresses like that aren't meant to be worn for whatever reason," CJ said, advancing on her. "They're not even for special occasions. They're for very special occasions with very special men. Men who have potential. They're not for a regular Friday night dinner with Josh, who has no potential whatsoever."

"Hey!"

"Sorry," she said, turning on her heel, heedless of how blunt her alcohol consumption had made her. "That's not what I meant. I meant no potential for Donna."

Without knowing it, she'd made it even worse. Donna saw his face fall ever so slightly.

"It was still very sweet," she reached out and rubbed his arm before turning back to Donna. "But you have wasted a perfectly good wearing of the dress to go get pizza or something."

"Whatever," Donna waved her off before another sneeze made its presence known.

"They didn't go get pizza, CJ, they went to 1789," Sam supplied helpfully. "Which I still didn't hear how you liked, by the way."

Donna was sure she was going to die from mortification. "I liked it very much. Good food. Nice atmosphere. Excellent desserts."

"1789?" Carol said. "That place is like...that place is hugely expensive."

"No kidding," CJ said, something beginning to gnaw at the back of her inebriated brain. She looked from Josh to Donna to Josh again. "What the hell is going on?"

"It was some kind of sentimental thing having to do with the robbery, I don't really know any details," Sam piped up again, but trailed off when he felt Josh and Donna staring him down. "I'm gonna stop talking now."

"How the hell can there be something sentimental about a bank robbery?" CJ asked, perplexed. "How do you get from a bank robbery to dinner in one of DC's most exclusive restaurants?"

"By car or metro," Larry supplied with a grin. Ed groaned.

Donna sighed, not wanting to think too heavily about the robbery. "It was...you know the security guard, Fred?"

"Yeah," CJ nodded.

"You don't have to explain it," Josh jumped in defensively, laying a hand on her arm. "You don't have to justify having dinner any place you want with anyone you want, regardless of how much potential they may be lacking," he directed his glare back to CJ. "You don't have to get back into this, Donna."

"I...no, it...I'd rather just..." she turned back to CJ. "During the robbery, I talked to him a lot, and he made some comment about the restaurant, and what a nice place it would be to celebrate after we got out of there. He was trying to keep me thinking about other things, I guess. Thinking about the future, thinking about the fact that there would be a future." She stopped momentarily, staring at nothing, but shook her head to break from the memory. She reached over and hugged Josh's arm to her. "I told Josh what he said afterward and he took me...as a celebration of sorts."

CJ had brought her fingers to her mouth during the story. She nodded, eyes suspiciously bright. Her eyes trailed over to Josh, who was staring at the sidewalk, clenching his jaw.

"You try so damn hard to convince everyone that you're just an ass," CJ said softly, and Josh looked up. "Sometimes you even fool me. Sometimes even I forget just how sweet you are."

He just looked at her, his expression softening a little, but remained silent, since no obvious response presented itself.

She looked back at Donna. "I'm sorry if I brought up a bad—"

Donna just shook her head to cut her off.

"Are you OK?" she asked, looking meek and chastised.

"Sure," Donna nodded.

"Let's go," Toby said from behind her.

She nodded without looking at him, then stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Donna's shoulders. "I can't think of a better reason to celebrate," she said into Donna's hair. Donna nodded against her shoulder.

She surprised Josh by hugging him with both arms, squeezing him tightly. "That was a poor choice of words, mi amor. You have tremendous potential for some lucky person out there."

Josh squeezed back gently to communicate his forgiveness before breaking the embrace.

"And don't you worry," she grinned. "One of these days Sam will come around. Good night, Spanky." She kissed a chortling Sam on the cheek. "Good night, boys!" She waved to Ed & Larry before heading for the open passenger door Toby had waiting. "You want Toby to drop you off?" she asked Carol.

"Sure," Carol nodded. She turned back and gave Donna a knowing smile, which Donna pretended not to understand. "Good night, everybody."

Toby glanced back at Donna after he'd closed CJ in the car. "She gets a little weird on Valentine's Day. Don't put too much stock in it."

Donna nodded with a little smile. Toby got in the car and pulled away from the curb.

Ed and Larry said their goodbyes and broke off, and Sam, Josh and Donna walked back toward their cars. 

"I didn't mean to sick CJ on you," Sam said.

"You've gotta work on that impulsive talking thing you do," Donna said with a little smile.

"It's the orator in me," he said. "Somebody asks a question and I know the answer, it's like I can't stop myself from blurting it out."

"Yeah, I think that's the dork in you," Josh supplied.

They reached Donna's car first. "You're OK getting home?" Sam asked.

"Absolutely," Donna nodded.

"You're sure you don't want one of us to follow you?"

She leaned forward and wrapped one arm around each of their shoulders kissing both their cheeks firmly. "I do not. You two lovebirds have a nice Valentine's Day."

They both stepped back and away from each other simultaneously.

"On second thought, maybe I want you to follow me," Sam winked at her. "You know, to make sure he doesn't get any more ideas."

Donna grinned as she got in the car. "Good night, homophobes."

"G'night," they both chorused as Josh shut the door behind her. She pulled away from the curb after a fleeting glance at Josh.

"She's getting better, I think," Sam said as he watched Donna's car pull to the intersection and turn to the right. "It feels like she's getting better."

Josh, who'd been watching her go as well, nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, it does." They both watched her taillights disappear around the corner in silence. "I'll see you."

"Yeah."

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

She'd flown home, ignoring most of the traffic laws in an attempt to beat Josh there and put the final touches on her apartment. She got there to find it warm, as she'd hoped, since she'd left the thermostat turned up. She changed into her standard gray pajama pants, but switched things up a little, donning a fitted red tank top instead of Josh's sweatshirt. She liked being warm at night, so she knew she'd probably end up pulling the sweatshirt on sooner or later, but she just wanted to see the look on his face. She took her hair down and washed her makeup off for the night.

As she patted her face dry with the towel, it occurred to her that this was the only guy she'd ever taken makeup off for, especially at the beginning of a relationship. Assuming you could even call this a beginning after knowing each other for more than six years. Something about that comfort level created a warm feeling in her chest.

Donna pushed play on her stereo and began lighting the candles she had scattered about the apartment as Norah Jones crooned softly in the background. She'd moved her pink roses to the dining table and her single red rose was in a small vase on her bedside table. She opened the top left hand drawer of her rolltop desk in the living area to check that the small wrapped package was still there. She tucked it against the front of the drawer and closed it again.

She turned slowly in a circle, looking around the apartment, the nervous flutter in her chest building slightly. She reminded herself that all this prep was basically for a big evening of nothing, but she didn't care. It was just what she felt moved to do. She did like to think; maybe they both did. But maybe being impulsive every once in a while would serve her well, too. She was dropping the lighter back into the kitchen drawer when she heard a knock.

She couldn't stop herself from running to the door and throwing it open, and he stepped inside, dropping his bag on the floor, picking her up by the waist and leaning back against the door to close it in one smooth motion.

"Ciao, bella Donna," he said, self-effacing grin plastered across his face. She giggled as she planted repeated kisses on his lips in rapid succession.

He was cold, and the few raindrops on his coat sleeves were making her shiver, but she didn't care. "Where have you been?" she started lengthening her kisses slightly. "I was about to call and make sure you didn't get lost."

"I drove straight here, but it seemed like I got caught behind every slow-moving senior citizen in the district," he breathed against her lips. "I'm gonna talk to someone at DOT tomorrow about building a parkway directly from my apartment to yours."

She nodded with another giggle. "Sounds like a plan." She brushed her tongue across his bottom lip and he deepened the kiss, making her duel with him for control, unlike that afternoon. At one moment, he was the more dominant one in the kiss, but he'd acquiesce eventually, letting her run the show for a while. It was a perfect metaphor for what their relationship had always been at its best: a balanced give and take.

After a few minutes, he gave up concentrating on standing and slid down the door to the floor, arms still around her waist. She'd ended up sitting on his legs, hers folded on either side of him. Her hands went from the sides of his face to his chest and back again as she experimented a little with what would get the most reaction from him, smiling broadly when she'd manage to make him moan or cause his breath to hitch.

His hands eventually moved from her fabric covered waist to her bare arms, and she jumped at how cold his hands were. "You're freezing," she said.

"I really did lose my gloves," he leaned up and kissed the underside of her chin and she titled her head back, biting her bottom lip to stifle a moan.

"We need to get up off the drafty floor," she stood, reaching down to him. He took her hands and stood, giving her a sweet peck on the lips when they stood at their normal heights again. "And you just reminded me..."

She walked to the desk in the corner and he frowned at her absence without realizing it. She opened the drawer and pulled out the wrapped box, returning with it cradled gently in both hands. She looked up at him, a little shyly. "This is for you."

He grinned, dimples looking deep in the candlelight he had yet to notice because he hadn't taken his eyes off of her. "You got me a present?" His face dropped immediately. "We said we weren't doing presents."

"It's not a Valentine's present," she shook her head immediately. "It's a surprise." She held it out to him.

He took it like no one had ever given him anything in his life. "For what?" he said, looking up from the box.

"For nothing," she said, grinning at his inability to get his mind around the simple concept. "Just because. Just open it, already!"

He smiled like a kid on Christmas at that moment, ripping the bow off and tearing through the fancy paper the clerk had wrapped it in that afternoon. He stopped short when he uncovered the box, embossed with the logo for Alexander Julian. The clothing line was somewhat exclusive, and certainly not the kind of thing that was easily affordable for someone on Donna's budget. He looked up at her. "What did you do?"

"Do we have to go over this again?" she said teasingly. "I got you a sur—"

He shook his head. "A surprise is when someone brings you back a doughnut from the mess, Donna. You don't get surprises at Julian."

She sobered somewhat at that. "It's a thank-you gift, really. A token of my, not to go down this road again, but a token of my appreciation. I just...I couldn't have gotten through the week without you, and I wanted to get you something that would remind you, when you used it, that it meant a lot to me. That you mean a lot of me. And that just by doing what you do, just by being a devoted friend, you helped me to start to heal. I'll never forget that."

It caught him quite unexpectedly. But in addition to all the other wonderful things she'd just said about him, to hear her say that she was healing, to hear her say that she was getting better, brought an unexpected sting to the back of his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her, running his thumb across her cheek as he did. Her fingers played along his jaw line. It was reminiscent of their first kiss in his kitchen, heavy with emotion and unspoken communication more than physical lust.

He kissed her cheek and hugged her tightly, embarrassed to let her see his misty eyes. He stood there holding her, rocking them back and forth slightly, breathing just a little heavier than normal, eyes shut tightly as he willed them to stop betraying him. In that moment, his guard was down and it almost slipped out. "I—"

She felt him tense, then laugh softly into her hair. She rubbed his back gently. "What?"

He kissed the side of her face as he pulled back to look at her. "Nothin'," he said. "We said no declarations. Not yet, anyway."

Oh, God. Oh...oh, dammit. He was gonna...he was just about to say...and he didn't because of the rules! Because of your stupid rules!!! Idiot! "We did say no declarations," she nodded sadly. "For the moment."

"For the moment," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "But one of these days, Donnatella Moss, when we've talked everything on the table to death, I do believe I might have something to declare." He kissed the top of her nose.

She nodded her understanding, tears filling her eyes. "I appreciate you, too, Josh," she whispered, leaning into him as he cupped her face and kissed her with all the emotion of the moment.

He brushed her happy tears away with his fingers when the kiss had ended, and she smiled shyly, tugging on his sleeve. "Open your present!"

He grinned again, looking all of 8 years old, and opened the lid of the box, brushing back the tissue paper. He laughed out loud and she was delighted. "Gloves!" he said, dropping the box and holding onto the gloves themselves. "You knew they were missing before I did."

She shrugged. "Well, it wasn't so much that as it was noticing that your hands were always freezing."

"They match my coat," he said, turning them over.

"They're black, they go with every coat you have," she said. "They're calfskin, so you never know, it could actually be the same cow as the veal you ate last night."

He cast a sly look her way. "That smacks of retribution."

"I'm just saying," she said, eyes wide with mock innocence.

"Ahkay," he grinned, preparing to try them on.

"Aaaaand, the best part," she said, taking one of them out of his hands before he could. "The part that should always make you think of me..." she flipped the wrist of the glove inside out so he could see the label.

He squinted to read it in the dim light. "Cashmere!" He snatched it out of her hand and put it on.

"Cashmere-lined," she nodded, grinning ear to ear. "Rugged, manly animal hide on the outside, and a cozy little reminder of me on the inside."

He smiled and held his gloved hands out in front of him, clenching them into fists to get a feel for the fit. "They feel great," he said with a grin. 

She laughed. "Give me your coat."

He let her pull it off his shoulders distractedly, pulling each hand back in front of him as soon as he could to inspect his new gloves. She hung the coat in the closet, eyeing him sweetly the whole time. He was genuinely touched, which warmed her heart.

"Josh," she said softly, unable to hide her smile.

"Hmm?"

"Take your gloves off and stay awhile."

He laughed sheepishly and pulled them off, and she reached for them. He handed them over, smiling as she tucked them into his coat pocket and closed the closet door.

"You," he said, crooking his finger at her, "are an absolute genius." He bent to kiss her and she slid her arms around his shoulders as his went around her waist. "Brilliant bella Donna," he said against her lips. "Bella Donnatella."

"You're all about the Italian tonight, aren't you?" she said, kissing her way across his cheek to his earlobe.

"I'm all about one particular Irish-Italian," he said huskily in her ear, and she shivered in spite of herself. He kissed her soundly on the cheek. "Thank you for my present. I love it."

She wrapped the fingers of both hands around the back of his neck and pulled him forward into a gentle kiss. "Thank you. I have to lock the door."

"We sorta skipped that part, didn't we?" he asked, picking up the discarded box and wrapping paper.

"We were otherwise occupied," she said, turning the lock on the knob, followed by the deadbolt and the chain. She extended her hand for the wrapping and he handed it over. She disappeared into the kitchen to throw it away. "You want coffee?"

"Sure," he called, noticing the candles for the first time. In her absence the soft jazz-inspired Norah Jones tune had made its presence known as well.

"So, I'm kinda tired, but I didn't know if you wanted to pop in a movie or something," she said as she came around the corner after starting the coffee.

Josh's back was to her as he surveyed the room. He turned back around, a surprised, but very amused expression on his face. He quirked one corner of his mouth at her before turning to face her full on.

"Miss Moss," he said, an almost gravelly tone to his voice. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

Donna's eyebrows shot up and she pretended to survey the room for the first time. "Hmm...candles, soft music...let's take a further look around, shall we?" She took a step back and picked his overnight bag up by the handles. "I'm just gonna put this away while we investigate further," she said with mock seriousness. Josh followed, hands on his hips, happy smirk firmly in place.

She dropped his bag just inside the bedroom door, folded her arms across her chest, and pretended to survey the room like it was the first time she'd ever seen it. "Same thing in here."

"Yes," Josh pretended to muse. "Do you know what this means?"

"What?"

"You are trying to seduce me."

She smiled, unable to completely stifle her laugh. "Would you like me to seduce you?"

He laughed at that. "You blew the delivery!"

"I couldn't help it!" She swiped a hand over her face with embarrassment. "It just sounded so ridiculous in my head."

"It didn't sound that ridic—" He was cut off by a sneeze. "Oh, you are gonna be so sick," he said sympathetically.

"I'm not sick," she said. "I feel fine."

"You're sneezing."

"It's allergies," she waved away his hand as he reached for her forehead. "We've already established that you don't know what you're feeling for anyway."

"You know what you need?" he said. "Some of that natural stuff. That Echinacea crap you're always going on about. You've gotta have some somewhere."

"Medicine cabinet," she supplied.

"Get it, then meet me in the kitchen for coffee," he said softly before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips and fairly bounding out the door.

"So…I guess we're done with the seduction, then," she said to the empty room.

"Oh, we're coming back to it," Josh called from the next room. "But you blew the delivery, Donna. You've gotta learn to take yourself seriously when you're gonna drop a line like that into conversation. We'll have coffee, and Echinacea, and try again."

"Good, 'cause, you know, I'll probably do much better once we've both had some time to dwell on it."

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

"What do you think was with CJ tonight?" Donna called as she blew the candles out in the living room. She reached for the stereo, but decided to leave Norah on repeat.

"Who the hell knows anymore?" Josh said as he came out of the bathroom in his sweats. They were both trying hard to be good, but Josh had been a little better at sticking to the rules than Donna. He'd eventually had to lock her out of the bathroom after several...incidents. No one was more surprised at his willpower than him. It was just really important to him that they do this right.

"You're pissed at her," Donna surmised.

"Not pissed, really," he said, dropping his clothes in his overnight bag and throwing the ones for the next day over the back of a chair. "Just, I don't know…just annoyed. She was out of line tonight."

"Damn right she was out of line," Donna said defensively as she switched off the coffee pot and headed back toward the bedroom with the final two refills of the night. "I nearly took her head off with that comment about potential. I mean, I know we kid around all the time. I know we take jabs at each other, and I know she didn't mean it the way it came out, but still...to say that you..." she shook her head as she came back in the bedroom with the coffee, unwilling to repeat the statement. "Like you said. Out of line."

Josh took the mug she offered and exhaled slowly. "I was actually talking about the part where she pressed you for details on dinner and Fred, but I guess that also applies." He took a sip of the coffee and set it on the nightstand. "I don't know...here we've been talking about lack of support at work for a relationship between the two of us because of what it would look like to the public. Maybe the lack of support would come from the fact that CJ, and possibly the rest of them, don't think I'm good enough for you. Which is absolutely true." He leaned on the edge of the bed, pulling off his dress socks from earlier in the night and reaching for the warmer ones he'd brought. "Doesn't mean I wouldn't try my damnedest. It would be nice if she'd show a little faith in my ability to see a good thing when it's right in front of me."

He was so lost in thought that he hadn't realized he was speaking to the afore-mentioned good thing. She appeared silently between his knees, tilting his face up to hers. "I want you to listen to me, very carefully," she said before planting a tender kiss on his lips. Nobody talks about Josh Lyman like that in my presence. Not even Josh Lyman."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her down to him, kissing her again. "I wasn't fishing for you to say that I'm worthy," he said.

"Oh, you're not worthy," she said with a little grin. "I'm just saying don't talk like you're not."

He groaned and buried his head in her shoulder as she laughed. "I don't know what it was," Donna said thoughtfully after a moment. "I mean she seemed apologetic, but...I think she just gets lonely, you know? I mean, there are people she cares about, but none of the men in her life seem to care for her the way she cares about them."

Josh ran his hands up to her back in a tender caress. "You know, ever since Simon, something about her is a little different. You rarely see it, but it's there. She gets...defensive. Even jealous. Sometimes it's a just a tone or her body language, but there's something going on there."

"I've seen it," Donna said before taking a deep breath. "Whenever we do tell her, we need to try to be sensitive to her personal feelings."

"I guess so," he said, thoughtfully. "Make sure she's not the last to know. That always drives her nuts."

"Yeah," she wrapped her arms higher around his neck and kissed the top of his head. "Quite the psychologists are we."

He laughed, voice buoyant with genuine amusement. "Stanley would be so proud." He tilted his head up and kissed her again. "I'm done analyzing CJ for the night."

"Me, too," she said, pulling back from him long enough to throw the extra pillows off the bed and hit the light switch, plunging the room into candlelight again.

Josh propped himself against the headboard, crossing his legs at the ankles and arching an eyebrow at her. "Miss Moss," he said. "I really don't know what to think about this forward behavior. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."

He'd broken character long enough for her to catch a flash of his dimples, but he'd managed to maintain a straight face. She was gonna win this round if it took everything she had.

She stood there, shifting positions, looking at the floor, the ceiling, around the room, anywhere but at him, trying to find the courage to get the line out. Her cheeks were burning and she was still unable to find her voice. About the time she decided she wasn't sure whether she was going to laugh or crawl under the bed out of embarrassment, he threw he hands up and flew toward her with an exasperated "Fine!"

Her feet came off the floor entirely and the next thing she knew, she found herself on her back on the mattress looking up at him. "I guess I'll just have to do the seducing myself then." Just the sound of his voice, a soft, sexy tone that sounded like he wasn't even trying, was enough to make her shiver.

He started kissing along her jaw line, never getting close enough to allow her to kiss him back, and started working his way excruciatingly slowly down her neck, planting hot openmouthed kisses along the way, occasionally surprising her with a little nip where her tendons or the slope of her neck created an angle that suited him.

She was moaning loudly before he was even done with her neck, which actually took quite a while, now that she stopped to think about it. As he worked his way closer to the healing wound on her shoulder, she started wondering if this was going to end up being another emotional moment. He surprised her when he reached her shoulder, continuing downward, but brushing the tips of his fingers across the healing skin in acknowledgement. It was a ghost of a touch, and she'd discovered since Abbey had taken the stitches out that the area was a little hypersensitive. The sensation caused her to whimper, and he flicked his eyes up to hers questioningly. Finding she'd closed them against the assault on her senses, he whispered, "You okay?"

She snaked the fingers of her left hand into his hair, pushing his head closer to her again. "If you stop now, I swear, Josh, I'm never gonna forgive you."

She felt him smile against her skin, and she mimicked the motion, her eyes still closed. He worked his way down to her collarbone, then began nipping his way along it toward her shoulder, stopping to laugh against her skin when she let out a little high-pitched noise.

"Did you just...squeak?"

"I don't know," she said breathlessly. "Keep doing that."

"Oh, I'm gonna keep doing that," he mumbled. "But first I would like confirmation on the squeak."

She sighed, and even though she was obviously turned on he could sense the exasperation. "I honestly don't know, Josh. Did you find the squeak to be a good thing or a thing you can make fun of?"

"I just wanted to be able to say to myself that I can make Donnatella Moss squeak if it was true," he said, a lilt in his voice. "I wanted to add it to my list of talents."

She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Would you like it to be true?" she asked in a sultry voice much deeper than her own. "Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

He laughed out loud against her shoulder, then dropped a kiss on her collarbone where he'd left off. "I knew you could do a good Mrs. Robinson if you wanted to," he said. "You just have to bury yourself in the part, take the moment seriously."

"Thank you, Abner. You're no longer kissing me."

"Was it a squeak?"

"Oh, for God's sake, yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! It was a squeak! Are you happy now?"

He raised his head from her shoulder and cocked it to the side, as if truly trying to get a handle on his feelings at the moment. "Yes, I am," he said. Somehow, he managed to pick up in the exact spot he'd left off, and found his old rhythm again quickly, working his way along the upward slant of her collarbone to her shoulder.

When he took the strap of her tank top in his teeth and moved it off her shoulder, she decided she was born to be kissed by Josh Lyman.

"It's about time it was your turn to squirm," he said, kissing an imaginary line along where the strap used to be. "Nice shirt, by the way."

"You're just full of compliments for my wardrobe today," she said, biting her lip as he slowly worked his way lower.

He nodded. "You're full of nice surprises today." He moved his hands from her sides to her stomach and slid his fingers under her shirt, beginning a similar tracing pattern on her stomach as that afternoon. But it was softer this time, lighter. Less playful, more sensual.

"God, Josh," she drawled, arching toward his hands involuntarily.

He laughed, a cocky, self-satisfied laugh that showed how pleased he was with his accomplishment. "I like this," he planted a kiss where the strap met the tank top near the swell of her chest, "less than the cashmere for tactile purposes," he began working his way across her chest just above the straight seam of the tank. "But obviously, it has its advantages, too."

His hands had wandered a little further up her ribs, and he let his thumb barely brush the underside of her breast as he gently sucked the flesh just above the tank in his mouth. Donna gasped and grabbed his head with both hands. "Okay, screw the table."

His eyes got wide for a minute, "Seriously?" he asked, doing nothing to stop her as she rolled them onto his back.

"Seriously," she said against his lips, snaking a hand under his shirt, causing him to moan into her mouth. "The table is overrated."

He tore his mouth from hers reluctantly, but planted another light kiss on her chin. "I thought the table was there for a reason, Donna."

"Josh!" she shouted exasperatedly, pushing herself up on her elbows to get a better look at him. "It's been..." She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "24 hours, approximately, since we talked about this thing, and I can't think about anything else! The table's a good idea in theory, but I think we both sorta know how we want things to come out at the end of all the discussion. I mean, don't we?"

Josh nodded. "We do."

"Can you honestly tell me you can think about anything else other than this new little development?" she asked.

"Donna, I'm the guy who suggested we ditch our friends at the restaurant."

"Which brings us to another point," she said. "You're a guy. A guy, Josh! Where's the pressure? Where's the nonstop innuendo? Where are all your attempts to corrupt me? Don't tell me that you're a little angel when it comes to—"

"Okay, I think there's something wrong when you ask me why I'm not acting more like a sleaze ball," he said, putting his hands behind his head.

Donna wrinkled her nose up a little as she thought. "That's true. But in all seriousness, what gives?"

"Let's say we chop the table up and use it as kindling, theoretically," Josh said.

"Okay..."

"And we, you know..."

Donna rolled her eyes.

"And let's say, also purely theoretically, that's it's a good as we both think it's going to be," he adopted a suggestive expression on his face. 

"Yeah...." Donna said.

"And then tomorrow, you remember why the table exists, and you can't stand me anymore. And you'll feel terrible, and I'll feel terrible, and worst of all, this..." he motioned between them, "will be all screwed up, just like all the other relationships in our lives, and I won't know what to do about it because I won't have you to complain to or go to for advice. This...this is big, Donna. Bigger than anything I've ever tried. I'm not gonna screw it up for something that, while admittedly very tempting, is going to happen anyway."

He'd won the argument, but she didn't want to accept it. "But if it's going to happen anyway, then why not..."

"Donna," he said softly.

She exhaled, scrubbing her face with her hands in frustration. "And there's been more than a little bending of Rule Number One."

"We've gotta do better about that, seriously," he said. "It just makes things more difficult."

"But more fun," she said, leaning forward again. She kissed him, but kept things relatively brief and chaste compared to the rest of the day. "We must be strong," she whispered.

"We must," he nodded. "Tomorrow, we're back on the straight and narrow. So, in that spirit," he moved to sit up, and she slid off of him reluctantly. "What's your next topic?"

"More discussion?" she asked.

"Until we fall asleep," he said. "Because the other option is not conducive to the tabling."

"I gotta admit, Josh, you're shocking me with this," she said as she stood, blowing out the candles had been left burning and snatching the Harvard sweatshirt off the chair.

"You're not the only one," he mumbled as he watched her pull the shirt over her head.

"Can I trust you not to try anything under the covers?" she said, picking Jack up from where he'd landed earlier on the floor.

"No."

"Good," she said, sliding her feet between the sheets. "Is it my turn?" she asked the dark room.

"I think so. Go ahead," he said beside her.

She rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. "Why are you convinced you're gonna screw it up?"

"I can't screw it up," he said simply.

"Which means you think there's a good chance you might," she said. "Why?"

She could hear him roll over to face her. "What do you mean, why?" he said incredulously. "Because this is not one of the things I'm good at doing."

"What, relationships?" she squinted as her eyes began to adjust in the dark and she started to be able to make out his features.

He nodded. "I kinda suck at it, Donna. Not kinda. I...I don't know. I've never known how to...do. How to be in a relationship. And that whole being yourself thing is a crock, because when I'm myself whomever I'm dating hates me. Mandy, Amy. We fought more than we got along, and I'd just as soon stay single if that's the way it's gonna be."

"Alright, we're gonna start with some friendly advice," she said, adjusting Jack under her arm. "First of all, never utter the names of your ex-girlfriends while lying in my bed." She felt him flinch beside her. "Second, the being yourself thing is not a crock. When whoever you're dating hates you, you're not being yourself then. You're being a jackass."

"Excuse me?"

"You aren't yourself after the first couple weeks of a relationship, and you know that," she said. "You get scared, and then you push them away by being a jackass."

"I do not."

"Sure you do," Donna said, looking up at the ceiling. "Because if they walk away from Josh the Jackass, it's a whole lot easier to dismiss than if they walk away from the real you after you've put yourself out there. You don't give them anything to work with, Josh. Not that I'm complaining. But the reason you suck at relationships is because you want to."

Josh stared at her, able to see her clearly now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark.

"Also, because the women you've dated in the past are, well, absolutely horrid, wretched individuals."

He laughed heartily. "Objectively speaking, of course."

"Of course."

"You kinda made that into my turn, didn't you?" he asked after a minute.

"I had a question," she said. "You're not gonna screw it up, Josh."

"I might."

"You won't."

"How do you know that, Donna?"

"Because you're too good at this. Because I know you. You have tremendous potential."

He grinned sheepishly. "Ahkay. We'll hope you're right for now."

"I'm right. Okay," she yawned. "You can ask me something."

"Mine keep ending up serious," he said after a minute.

"That's OK," she said.

He looked at her intently for a minute, then, wordlessly, placed his finger on the back of her hand, running it from her knuckles to her wrist, pushing the sweatshirt sleeve down just enough to expose the bandage on her wrist. He stopped his finger there. "I thought you said—"

"You said," she cut him off. "You said it wasn't bad enough. You said I should stop wearing them. I didn't."

"You indicated last night that you were—"

"I thought about it," she said. "I tried...I just don't like looking at them, Josh."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she snapped. "I don't..." she exhaled heavily, fighting tears.

"We don't have to talk about it," he said, regretting bringing it up.

"No," she said. "We said anything and everything was up for discussion." She ran a hand tiredly across her eyes. "When I...when I look at them, really spend some time looking at them, it's not something that's easy to...I can feel that thing around my wrists again. Hear his voice in my ear. It just brings it closer. I don't know why the shoulder doesn't do that, too, but it doesn't."

Josh reached over and settled her against him, and she snuggled as close as she could. "Not very logical, is it?"

"I guess not," he said quietly.

"This is why we need the table," she said defeatedly.

"One of many reasons," he said.

She was quiet for a minute. "I hate this feeling, Josh. I hate the feeling I get when I think about him. I hate that looking at any part of me makes me think of him. And...I suppose I worry that I always will think of him."

"You won't," he said.

"You don't know that, Josh," she tightened her grip on him just a little.

"I do," he said assuredly.

"How?"

He sat up, pulling her with him in the dark. He lifted one wrist into what little light was coming from the window and gently unwound the bandage, followed by the other wrist. The cuts were scabbed over, the bruising around them had faded, and in some places, the pinkest new skin could be seen forming over the wound.

"Look at them, Donna. Look at them for what they are now, not for what you remember them to be. They don't look like they did that night. They're not bleeding, they're not open anymore. Your hands are free," he moved them independently of each other in simple illustration.

Donna stared at her wrists intently.

"I know you won't always think of him because I can see you, undoing the damage he did, fixing what he made wrong," Josh said. "Donna, you said it yourself. I know you won't always think of him because you're healing."