Title: Broken Glass

Author: Suzy

Rating: YTEEN/MATURE/ADULT (each part is rated)

Category: Drama/Angst/Romance

Characters: Josh/Donna

Follows: Beginning of Season 5, after "Disaster Relief"

Spoilers:  Everything up through a "Disaster Relief"

Summary:  A traumatic event for Donna is Josh's wake-up call.

E-mail address for feedback: sektwwp@earthlink.net

Archiving permission: If you want to, contact me and we'll talk.

Disclaimers: The West Wing and its characters don't belong to me,
never will.  Aaron Sorkin, Warner Bros, NBC and Co. thought of them
first. I just like to play with them and see what happens. I do this
out of a love for the show and no infringement is intended.

As always, I want to thank my stellar, splendiferous, wonder-beta, and
all-around awesome friend, Shan. This fic is dedicated to her.  She
kicked me to finish this story.  If she hadn't, I'm guessing it would
still be languishing on my computer. She keeps me honest, focused,
polished, and on track. Thanks, Shan. YOU ROCK! This one's for you!

AUTHOR'S NOTE - PLEASE READ

At it's heart, this is a story of trauma and a story of healing. It
deals with sexual assault, attempted murder, emotional trauma,
childhood sexual abuse, and their aftermath. I have tried not to make
it gratuitous or needlessly explicit but I have also tried to not
gloss over it. Each chapter is rated accordingly. I've also done
everything I can to see to it that it is not, what I call, a "torture"
fic.  I promise although there are some difficult times for the
characters in this story, there is laughter to go with the tears and
things do get better.

I am not a therapist and I do not claim to be an expert. I have tried
to do a great deal of research so things are as accurate as possible.
I invite you to explore these topics with me with the understanding
that I do not have all the answers. If you are a victim of sexual
assault or abuse, I encourage you to seek help.

Now, that said, I hope you enjoy Broken Glass.  -   Suzy



Chapter 1 - YTEEN



"Donna!"

Pausing in the middle of collecting her things, she sighed.  She'd
almost made it out the door.  It was 11 p.m. on a Saturday and she'd
been there since 7 a.m.  Was it so much to ask to go home at a decent
hour? Especially on a weekend? All she wanted was a quiet soak in a
cool tub to try and ease some of the August heat she knew she'd find
in her third floor apartment when she got home. She'd left a window
cracked but it was never enough to chase away the heat. Ideally, she
could leave the small AC unit in her apartment on during the day, but
the expense just wasn't worth it.  She'd turn it on when she got home
and by the time she was done with her bath, the temperature would be
tolerable enough to sleep.

"Donna!"

Setting her things back down, she straightened her blouse, took a
breath, and walked to Josh's office. "You bellowed?" she asked.

"Where's the research file on the Foley Bill?" he asked.

She stared at him for a moment.  He looked rumpled and a bit tired and
she couldn't help but have a little bit of fun with him. "Right where
I saw you put it this morning," she answered with knowing smile.

Waiting for her to continue, he stared back at her for another minute,
then rubbed his eyes.  He was too tired to have a staring contest with
her. This week had been crazy and next week looked to be more of the
same. When no more pearls of wisdom fell from her mouth, he tried
again. "And where would that be?"

"If I tell you, can I have a raise?" she asked with a perfectly straight face.

"No.  Donna, where is the file?" he pleaded.  His patience was wearing
very thin.

He looked so cute when he pleaded, she thought.  Just like a
3-year-old asking for a cookie before dinner. Deciding he'd had
enough, she took pity on him.  She walked over to his desk and stood
beside him.  Laying her hand on a stack to his right, she counted down
3 in the pile, pulled out the file, and without looking to see if it
was right, which of course it was, she handed it to him.

She was standing close enough that he could smell her perfume.
Vanilla with maybe a hint of jasmine.  It was all he'd ever remembered
her wearing and he'd always liked it.  Wow. Where had that thought
come from? 'Don't go there,' he told himself. He was just getting
tired, he reasoned. Yes, that had to be it.  She, on the other hand,
she looked as fresh and competent as when she first arrived.  God, he
hated that about her. "So tell me the truth. You hid that there,
right?" he asked.  "I mean, you knew I was going to need it so you
came in here and hid it when I was in talking to Leo."

Rolling her eyes, Donna turned and walked toward the door.  "Yeah,
Josh.  I have nothing better to do than come in here and hide your
files."

"Then how else could you possibly know where that file was?"
Secretly, he'd figured out a long time ago that question was
rhetorical.  She just knew.  She always knew.

"I have them all tagged with radio transceivers."

He leaned back in his chair. "Radio transceivers?  As in AM/FM?"  He
didn't know why he let her draw him into these weird conversations.
Of course, it didn't have anything to do with the fact that they were
often the small highlights of his day.

"No.  As in radio transceivers they use to track animals in the wild."

"So it's kind of your own 'catch and release' program for the files?"
Amused, he grinned slightly, despite himself.

"Something like that.  And the master control is all right here," she
said, tapping a finger against her temple. "Fear the master control,
Josh." Grinning, she leaned against the door frame.  "I knew where the
file was because I saw you lay it there and then lay the other files
on top of it while you were looking for the Bluffton report earlier
today."  Before he could say anything, she pressed on, "By the way,
speaking of tracking animals in the wild, did you know that the
transceivers they use today are modified versions of transceivers that
were invented in 1972 in by an environmental zoologist named Winston
Splenfield, while he was studying the migratory mating habits of the
Alaskan bull moose?"

"Go.  Get out of my office, you're giving me a headache," he said,
shooing her with a wave of his hand. Actually, she was helping to take
the one he already had, down a peg or two.

Feeling like she won that round, she sighed happily. A job well done.
"Fine, I'll just take the master control and go home," she turned and
walked to her desk. "Good night," she called to him after collecting
her things. "Oh, and go home sometime in this century, Joshua," she
tossed over her shoulder at him.

He imagined her walking out of the bullpen toward the double doors and
the exit.  She had nice legs too.  Long and...whoa!  'Get a grip,
Josh,' he told himself.  "You're not the boss of me, Donnatella," he
called back at her.

She smiled as she walked out.  Growing up, she'd always hated
"Donnatella."  It had always made her cringe to hear people call her
that.  Her mother was the only one she'd never minded calling her that
with any regularity.  Before Josh, that is.  He called her by her full
name at the oddest moments and it never ceased to make her heart and
her stomach do a slow summersault. And it was one of the many reasons
why she'd loved him almost from the moment she'd met him in his office
at the New Hampshire campaign headquarters. She suppressed that
thought.  No use going there.  He didn't see her as anything more than
an assistant.  Okay, she thought, by now he saw her as a friend, okay
a good friend, maybe even a best friend. Especially after Rosslyn. But
in any case, he didn't seem interested in changing their status.
Which was okay with her. Anything else just would have added another
level of complication to their already complex relationship. Not to
mention probably put both of their jobs, or at the very least, their
reputations, in jeopardy. He needed her and that was enough.

********

Donna pulled up in front of her apartment building and parked her car.
Climbing out, she reached into the back seat for her purse, only to
find the spot where it usually sat empty.  "Damn," she muttered.
She'd forgotten it at work.  Well, she had her keys so at least she
could get inside her apartment and it wasn't as if she'd left it on a
bus or something.  She'd left it in the most secure spot in the world,
the White House. That pretty much ruled out the need to worry it was
going to disappear. She could always run over and get it tomorrow,
hopefully Josh wouldn't decide he needed to work on Sunday.  If he
caught her there, she'd never leave.

It was late on a Saturday and all was quiet in her semi-questionable
neighborhood as she walked up the stairs to her third-story apartment.
August was only a few days old and summer was blazing in all its
glory.  It didn't help that coming home had been a lonelier experience
in the last few weeks since her roommate, Cindy, had moved out to live
with her boyfriend and Donna hadn't had a chance to get a new
roommate.  She would need to get one soon, as paying the rent money
all by herself was just not going to work for her budget.  Since she'd
taken them with her, Donna didn't even have Cindy's cats for company.
'Maybe I'll get a cat of my own,' she thought. 'Or maybe a dog.'
Stopping at the door to her apartment, she pulled out her keys.  She
could go to the animal shelter and get one. Turning the key, she
opened the door and stepped inside. Locking it behind her, she
wondered for a minute if they were open on Sundays.

It was pitch black inside, which struck her as odd as she always left
the kitchen light on. "Light must have burned out," she mumbled,
setting her keys, her cell phone and her White House ID on the table
by the door.  Something else that struck her as odd was the fact that
it was fairly comfortable in the room, downright cool even, and she
noted the AC was running.  She must have left it on from last night.
That would explain why the window she usually cracked open during the
day was closed. Actually is wasn't just cool, it was downright frigid
in the room. She must have bumped the knob or something this morning.
Wow, her next electric bill was going to be a killer.  Reaching down
she tugged off one shoe and then the other. It felt good to wiggle her
toes as she walked over to the lamp and bent to turn it on.

As her hand touched the switch, the world exploded as something hard
slammed down on her head. Darkness became deeper darkness and then
complete black as she fell to the floor, unconscious and bleeding from
a gash on the back of her head.

"Now it begins," a soft, menacing voice said as it floated down to her
still form.

To be continued...



Chapter 2 - MATURE



It's funny what the mind will latch onto in a time of crisis.  For
Donna, it was time. Maybe it came from the fact that she had to keep
such a tight reign on Josh's time, but her next conscious thought was,
"What time is it?" She'd said it out loud, or had tried to.  Nothing
had come out but a rasp and her throat felt raw, sore and tight as if
it were swollen. 'Great,' she thought. 'I've caught the flu.'  The
sudden nausea she felt reinforced that idea.  Josh was going to kill
her for being sick and then he'd whine and tell her not to get her
germs on him. She opened her eyes and was greeted by a busily spinning
view of her bedroom.  'I promise to never again have whatever devil's
spawn of an alcoholic beverage, or from the way I feel, beverages, I
had last night,' she thought.  This had to be the mother, father and
15 cousins of all hangovers. When the room began to slow, she managed
to glance toward the window.  Pale, early morning sunlight was just
beginning to seep in. 'Why was the room so cold?' she wondered.  It
felt like she was lying in a refrigerator.

But everything paled to the massive pain that began to report in from
what seemed to be every inch of her body. This was not the 'I'm achy
from a cold' type of pain or the 'kill me now' type from a hangover.
It was the, 'I must have died after being run over repeatedly by a
semi truck' type of pain.  Her head seemed to be trying to pull itself
in 6 directions, all away from each other. The pain in the right side
of her face was enormous and she realized her right eye didn't seem to
want to open very far.  As a reflex, she moved, or tried to move her
right hand to touch her face. Her arm screamed in protest and she
realized she was laying on it.  But even that didn't seem right.  It
was turned at a funny angle.

Picking her head up in preparation to roll off her arm, she looked
down at herself in the dim light coming through the bedroom window.
Fear.  Bone melting fear flashed through her.  Where were her clothes?
 When she slept alone, she never slept in the nude, always preferring
to wear at least a t-shirt or, if it was especially hot and her AC
wasn't working, her panties. And what was all over her? She began to
pick up subtle nuances in her body. Sticky.  Crusty. Something sticky,
crusty, and in places brownish red, fanned out in various places from
her neck to her knees.

The brownish red she was pretty sure was drying blood, not a lot but
enough that it only added to her blossoming terror.  The other?
Semen? Her mind absolutely refused to acknowledge that possibility.
The smell hit her then. The smell of sex.  The smell of blood.

Instead of dwelling on the smell, her body decided now would be a good
time to let the nausea take charge.  She tried to roll to the side but
just didn't have the strength and the resulting pain from her sore arm
being pushed harder into the mattress only made the situation more
urgent. She only managed to turn her head far enough to vomit on the
empty spot on the bed next to her. Her throat now felt like it was
full a thousand hot needles and she couldn't seem to catch her breath.
Her throat had apparently decided it wouldn't cooperate with any more
vomiting.  Of course, it was beginning to feel like there wouldn't be
much room left for air either.  She tried to slow her breathing and
not panic, using what little air she had.  Oddly the skin on her hip
had begun to sting. No, burn was more accurate, as did the area
between her legs.

Still trying to remain calm and keeping her breathing shallow, she was
struck with one thought.  Help.  She needed help. Looking to her left
at her nightstand and where she kept her the phone and she saw that
not only was the phone not there, the nightstand itself seemed to be
missing. After taking a moment to regroup and hope that she would have
enough breath to do it, she tried to roll again, this time away from
her sore arm.  Ignoring the myriad of new pains it caused, she managed
to roll over once and she lay face down on the edge of her queen-sized
bed.

Moving her head slightly she looked over edge of the mattress.  'Oh,
there's the nightstand,' she thought calmly.  It was turned over and
the contents were spilled all over the place.  On the floor, right
next to the bed, she saw the phone peeking out from under the edge of
one of the scarves she usually kept in the drawer of the nightstand.
An angry tone issued from it, telling her it had been off the hook for
a while.  She managed to pull her good arm out from wherever it had
been hiding and reached for the phone. Spots had begun to dance in
front of her eyes and her throat was just not cooperating with the
whole breathing thing.  With determination, her fingers closed around
the cool plastic and pressing the hook button on the receiver, she got
a dial tone.

Her first thought was to call Josh, but then she discarded it. This
was just too big, too, whatever it was, and her brain didn't want to
work enough to remember his number. Instead she dialed 911 and somehow
managed to bring the receiver to her lips as the dots began to get
bigger and angrier.

"911, what's your emergency?" a cool, professional voice answered.

"Help," Donna managed, in a voice that was trying to be a scream but
was ending up a notch below a whisper. "Help me," she said, her voice
not managing to get any louder. She didn't even know if they could
hear her. 'No one is going to help me. I'm going to die and no one is
going to help me. So many things I've never done. I never told Josh I
love him,' was her last thought before the dots got together and
decided to unionize into one whole field of grayish black that
swallowed her whole.

"Hello? Please state your emergency," the voice said, as the receiver
slipped from her hand and fell with a thud onto the floor.

*********

"Ms. Moss?  Ms. Moss, wake up.  I need you to open your eyes," a
strange voice said. Part of her screamed to stay where it was, down in
the cool, painless, blissful blackness. But like having a great dream,
the harder she tried to stay there the more difficult it was and she
began to surface. Her eyes opened and she recoiled at the young male
face she saw and for a reason she had no concept of, she swiped out at
him.

He pulled back, "No, Ms. Moss, you're all right.  You have to calm down."

His words didn't reach her and this time his female companion took his
seat and tried again.  "Ms. Moss," she began.  "We're paramedics and
you're safe.  You need to calm down.  We're taking you to the
hospital, but you need to be calm so we can help you."  The young
brunette smiled at Donna as she relaxed back into the gurney.  "Good.
Now can you tell me your name?" she asked, trying to assess Donna's
consciousness and awareness level.

"Donna," she tried to speak.  Her throat still burned and the oxygen
mask over her mouth didn't help the sound carry any better. On the
good side, her ability to breathe seemed to be better. The young
female paramedic leaned down and pulled the oxygen mask away so she
could say it again, "Donna."

"Donna.  Good, Donna.  I'm Emily.  This is Mike.  Donna, do you know
what day it is?"

'What a stupid question,' her brain thought.  "What time is it?" she rasped.

"6:30 in the morning," Emily said.

"Then it's Sunday," she replied.

"Good, Donna. Who's the President?"

She started to smile and then abruptly stopped when arrows of pain
shot through the right side of her face.  "Bartlet," she finally
managed.

"Good.  We're almost at the hospital, is there someone you'd like us
to call for you?"

Her immediate thought, again, was Josh.  He'd be there in a heartbeat.
 But what would she say?  How could she even look at him? With
everything else, she wasn't ready to see him. She wasn't ready to
think about what was happening to her, much less be able to talk to
him about it. She also wasn't ready to see what she knew would be the
pain and the pity in his eyes when he saw her.  But who?  The idea of
calling her parents about this was even worse than calling Josh.
Besides still being in Wisconsin, her parents already didn't approve
of her life in D.C.  In fact they were barely speaking these days.
They would only use this as ammunition in their continuing attack as
to how much she'd screwed up her life by leaving the good thing she
had with Dr. Freeride and moving onto the Bartlet campaign and
Washington D.C.. Cindy, her old roommate, she vaguely remembered, was
out of town with Robert this week. 'I'm so tired,' she thought,
feeling herself drift. 'Too tired to think about whatever it was I was
thinking about. I'll just go back to sleep.'

"Donna?" Emily repeated, pulling her back.  "Is there anyone you'd
like us to call for you?"

'Maybe if I answer her, she'll let me go back to sleep,' Donna
thought. "CJ.  CJ Cregg."  Yes, that was perfect.  After they checked
her out at the hospital and made her head not feel like it had been
used for hockey practice, CJ could just come and give her a ride back
to her apartment....no, no, no. Something in her rebelled.  You're not
going back there.  Okay then, to a hotel or whatever. She'd take a
couple of days of sick time and then go back to work. No harm done and
Josh would never be the wiser.  "She works at the White House," she
said in a voice not higher than half a low whisper.  It was getting
kind of annoying not being able to speak very loudly.

"CJ Cregg?" Emily said, putting the oxygen mask back down on Donna's
face, "The White House Press Secretary?" Donna nodded.  "You've got
some important friends, Donna."  Emily looked up and past Donna as the
ambulance went over a speed bump.  "We're here, Donna.  Now it may get
a little scary inside, people are going to be examining you and asking
a lot of questions. Just try to stay calm."

Donna nodded and closed her eyes to save her strength for the next
onslaught of probing eyes and questions.  The cool, painless black was
missing this time and she only saw the backside of her own eyelids.

To Be Continued...



Chapter 3 - YTEEN



"Hey, pal o' mine. What did you do? Sleep here last night?" CJ said as
she breezed into her office. Josh only moaned from the depths of her
couch.  He'd planned to go home last night, but had never made it out
of the White House.

Josh did a slow roll and looked up at her, "Anyone looking as chipper
as you are at," he looked at his watch, "6:15 a.m., on a Sunday should
be shot."

"Like Donna keeps saying, you have a crappy watch.  It's 6:45."

"Yeah, 'cause a half an hour is going to rock my world right now," he
said.   When CJ only grinned at him like a lunatic, he groaned.  "Oh,
man, you got lucky last night, didn't you?"

"Even you can't bring me down today, Deputy Downer," she said,
adopting the name that Donna used on him once in a while. "Ben and I
had dinner, it went really well...so did breakfast," she smirked.

"What happened to the whole 'I don't want to date him because of our
history and I don't want to be one of THOSE women?'"

"Again, I'm ignoring the Deputy Downer comments," she replied with a grin.

Josh considered that. "'Kay. I bet he even made you coffee this
morning and everything," Josh said, trying to sit up.

"Actually, we went out for breakfast and had espresso at a little
French place he knows."

"What little French place?" Will asked walking into CJ's office.

"Hey, Will," CJ said, greeting him with a smile.  "Bistro Francais,"
CJ replied in her most seductive, French accent-laden voice.

"That little place on M Street?" Will asked.

"Yeah.  It was great.  We had fresh croissants and coffee..." she began.

"Do you have to rub it in?"  The heavenly thought of fresh French
pastries and espresso made Josh slump over again.

"Who's 'we'?" Will asked.

"Me and Ben is 'we.' We had dinner. We had each other.  We had
breakfast." CJ replied, with a grin.

Josh managed to sit up again and hoped he be able to maintain the
position this time, "Again, I say, do you have to rub it in?"

"Why is it that everyone around here can get a date but me?" Will asked.

Josh stared at Will, "If you want, I can give you Amy's number. 'Cause
I'm sure you guys would, you know, hit it off."

CJ snorted,  "Josh, that's just so wrong...."

"...on so many levels?" Will finished.  He knew that was a favorite
saying of Sam's.

'Will doesn't know the half of it,' Josh thought. He carefully avoided
mentioning the fact that he'd had a...well, a thing, with Amy over the
summer. A thing that involved a kiss in his office and a couple of
nights of fairly athletic, but in the end, pointless sex with her. It
had been so stupid. He'd been so stupid. He'd needed someone and she'd
been handy. End of story. He'd used her to try and relieve the stress
he'd felt over the VP's nomination and a number of other things. Then
there had been the whole thing with the fish on his desk and the story
about him being the 101st senator and Amy's unique way of rounding up
support for domestic violence funding. The last one had sent the
President into orbit. Josh's regret at remaking old mistakes with her
was total and complete. Amy had resigned and was gone now, although he
figured she'd pop up again.  Someone with her political drive would
land on their feet somewhere in D.C.

On a personal front, there had been no big scene, no big break up or
blow up.  She'd just left and he'd just let her. He'd had bigger fish
to fry with Senator Carrick and his black hole missile launcher
proposal. Maybe there was a lesson to be learned there.  She hadn't
been important enough for him to stop.  Now if it had been Donna
trying to leave.....well, best not to go there.

Then, of course, the other shoe had dropped and he'd been nearly
flattened by the fallout from Carrick's defection to the Republican
side of the fence. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse,
Leo had taken him down a peg and brought in Angela Blake to 'help him
with his legislative portfolio and the budget negotiations.' Right.
She'd help him all right.  Right out of his job she'd help him. But,
there again, was Donna.  Donna, whose teasing manner and quiet support
had kept him sane. Donna, who had sent Ryan to the restaurant to help
him save face. And Donna, amazing Donna, who had pulled the "What a
Shame" file right out of her magic bag of tricks and helped give him
purpose when he'd been adrift.

That reminded him of something Amy had said to him after the last time
they'd been together, together in the Biblical sense, that is. It had
been just a week or two before she'd resigned. Things had already
begun to get a bit strained between them and when he'd pressed her for
some kind of idea about where they were going.  Talking about their
relationship had been the last thing on Amy's mind.  They'd both ended
getting a little irked and frustrated with each other. It was then
that Josh began to feel that Amy had been the one using him instead of
the other way around.  It hadn't been an easy thing for him to admit,
even to himself.

As he'd stood getting dressed in her bedroom, she'd laughed softly.
Not an "it's really funny" laugh but an "it's really bizarre" laugh.
Then she'd said the most interesting thing, "Donna said I didn't get
you. I guess she was right." She'd looked at him then, an unreadable
expression on her face.  "So you know she's in love with you, right?"

His heart had skipped at that, "Did she tell you that?"

"She didn't have to.  I asked her straight out and even though she
didn't answer me, the look on her face was all the answer I needed."
He'd just stood there in the middle of Amy's bedroom, his shirt in his
hand, not saying a word.  "And you're in love with her," Amy added,
just the trace of tired bitterness seeping into her words.

"I have to go," Josh had mumbled, collecting his things.  Amy hadn't
said anything further. Hadn't tried to stop him from going.  He needed
to do some thinking.  Some thinking, not about him and Amy, but about
him and Donna.  It always seemed to come back to that, didn't it? He
needed to figure out what was happening between him and Donna. What
HAD been happening for 6 years. He and Donna had become the best of
friends.  There were times when he wanted more than that. There were
times when he suspected she did too.  But they just seemed to keep
missing each other.  There was always some boyfriend/gomer for her or
a bump-into-her-sideways girlfriend for him or a national crisis like
Zoey's kidnapping for both of them. He just didn't know how to take
the next step or even if he should take the next step.  Hell, he
didn't even know what the next step WAS.  A month had passed since
that night in Amy's apartment and he was still trying to figure out
what to do.

Pulling himself back to the present, Josh looked up at CJ.  "So, did
you bring me any coffee?" he asked, spying the insulated cup in her
hand.  He could just see the trickle of steam rising through the hole
in the lid.

CJ looked at him solemnly, "Yes, I brought this espresso just for
you," she started.  "Oh, and during this morning's briefing I was also
planning on pulling Danny up and the stage and planting a big wet one
on him in front of the whole press corps." She laughed and this time
is was Will's turn to snort.

Josh just groaned, "Very funny. You're mean after you've had sex and espresso."

"No, mi amore, I believe the word you looking for is 'charged.'
Speaking of coffee, where's Donna today? She's not at her desk. I
guess she must have gnawed her way through that chain you've always
got around her ankle and escaped."

He attempted sitting up again. "Hey, some people think I'm a nice guy.
You make me sound like Simon Legree or something. I might be inclined
to be even nicer if a certain blonde person would bring me coffee once
in a while," he mumbled the last part.

"What did you say, Joshua?" CJ said, even though she had heard all of
it perfectly.  The tone in her voice had Will taking a step back and
told Josh that, happy or not, she would still smack him in the head if
he stepped out of line. Especially where Donna was concerned.  He slid
a little farther away from her.

"Nothing," he said, fighting yet another urge to slide back into the cushions.

"Good.  And by the way, you are a Simon Legree and Donna's the only
one who can put up with you for longer than 5 minutes so you'd better
be nice to her or the Sisterhood will break your kneecaps. You're a
big boy, you can get your own coffee."

He rubbed his hand over his face in defeat.  "I was going to give her
the day off, but I think I'm going to need her help with the Foley
thing. You know what a whiz she is with research and I still need more
information to go with what I already have."

"Just don't keep her here too long," she replied.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, Mom."

Just on principle, she gave him a light smack in the head.  She
figured if nothing else, it would help wake him up, "Don't call me
Mom."

"Ow!" he said.  "Why do you always smack me around? Especially in
front of a witness," he said, indicating Will.

"Hey," Will replied, "leave me out of this." He'd learned quickly that
when she was in smacking mode it was dangerous to step between CJ and
the 'smackee.'

"I give you a smack now and then because it helps keep you line," she
said, grinning.  "Now stop drooling on my couch and drag your ass back
to your own office."  Feeling like she'd gotten his day started off on
the right foot, she walked behind her desk and plopped down in her
chair. Josh didn't move off her couch right away, but the death look
she gave him shortly had him scrambling up and out of her office with
Will in tow.  Together they headed off for Josh's office, Will had a
couple of questions for Josh concerning an upcoming address the VP was
going to give to the United Farm Workers Union.

Smiling, CJ took a sip of the espresso she brought with her from
breakfast while she checked her voicemail messages.

"JOSH!" she yelled, jumping out of her chair.  The panic in her voice
cut right through his sleepy brain and they almost collided in the
hall as they flew out of their respective offices in their attempt to
find each other.

"What?!" he said, stumbling back into Will so he didn't run into her.

"Donna.  It's Donna. I had a message from George Washington Hospital
that Donna's there and she gave them my name as her emergency
contact."

"Why didn't she give them my name?" he asked, just a little hurt.
Donna should know by now that he would be there for her if she was
sick or hurt.  She'd told him once that she still held a bit of a tiny
grudge against Sam for not calling her when Josh had been shot.  She'd
found out about the shooting after seeing a news broadcast on TV and
had come to the hospital to help Josh take care of things while the
President recovered. Only when she got to the hospital, had she
discovered that he too had been a victim. Even then it had been Toby,
and not Sam, who had told her. So she, more than anyone, would know
that he would want to know.

"Focus, Josh.  Donna's in the hospital," she said, clearly and slowly
as if she was talking to a 3rd grader. "We can argue later about who
she called.  Let's get down there," CJ said, pulling out her cell
phone to call the hospital back and let them know they were on their
way. It never occurred to CJ that there might be reason why Donna
would have asked for her specifically and not Josh.

"You guys want me to come too?" Will asked, his own concern showing
for Donna. She been very helpful and kind to him as he tried to get
settled into this asylum they called the White House.

CJ and Josh were already heading down the corridor, "No, tell Leo
what's happened.  We'll call with an update once we know more," Josh
said as he and CJ ran out.

To Be Continued...



Chapter 4 - MATURE



Everything seemed horribly disjointed to her. She kept falling asleep
and so she'd wake up again in the middle of someone asking a question.
It was all very annoying.

Waking up in the middle of the nightmare her life had become was bad
enough, but she felt like her sanity was now stretched by a
microscopically fine thread as she endured the emergency room in the
hospital.  The only saving grace had been that she'd been assigned a
female trauma doctor.  It was bad enough to have another woman touch
her, not just intimately but anywhere. She didn't think she could have
handled a male doctor.

It wasn't that they weren't kind and tried to be patient and caring,
because they were.  Intellectually she knew that.  Instinctively and
emotionally she wanted to scream at them to stop touching her,
especially since every other time they did, a new wave of pain erupted
from somewhere in her body. To get the samples the police needed, the
doctor and 2 nurses had swabbed her from head to toe.  From her face
and mouth to cleaning under her fingernails to the bottoms of her
feet. She felt like a human Petri dish.

Of course, she couldn't scream, couldn't even really talk.  Why did
her throat feel so badly?  One of the nurses had been given the job of
listening to her half-whispered answers to the questions the staff was
throwing at her and translating them as they assessed her condition.
The questions were something else she wanted to scream at them for.
The questions only served to make her think about things she didn't
want to think about. She just wanted to sleep.  Why didn't they let
her sleep?

They wanted to know who hurt her.  She didn't remember.  They wanted
to know what happened to her.  She didn't remember.  She really didn't
remember.  Her memory of the past 7 hours was a dark hole in her mind.
 Where did it hurt?  Everywhere.  Where did it hurt the most?  Her
head. Her face. Her throat. Her arm. Deep in her abdomen. Between her
legs. Did she have any allergies? Penicillin and raspberries. When was
her last period and could she be pregnant?  She'd finished about 2
weeks ago and she was on the pill so there was pretty much no way she
was pregnant.  Why would they ask about those things now?  Why would
they matter?

Sensing her patient was reaching the end of her rope, the doctor, Dr.
Susan Holden, her name tag said, came to stand next to her. Donna had
to focus really hard on the sound of the doctor's voice to keep from
falling asleep.  "Donna? I know it's hard and I know it hurts.  We
can't give you anything for pain until we take a CT scan and determine
the extent of your head injury and we can't take you up for a CT scan
until we finish getting some samples and I can finish a pelvic exam."

Donna started to shake her head in protest but the doctor pressed on.
"I know you're scared.  I know that something bad has happened to you
and that you don't want someone, anyone touching you there.  But I
have to examine you. I promise to be a gentle as possible.  You have
some vaginal bleeding that doesn't seem to want to stop and I need to
find out what's going on down there. During the exam I can also take
last of the samples the police will need.  The doctor avoided saying
"Rape Kit" as she wasn't sure if that would be the final thing to push
her patient over the edge.  Knowing her patient wasn't ready to hear
it yet, she also didn't tell Donna that part of the samples would be
sent off to be tested for various diseases, including Hepatitis and
HIV.

As soon as Donna's stomach cooperated, Dr. Holden had already arranged
to have her started on preemptive courses of drugs to fight off
anything she might have been exposed to during the attack. This was
critically important as not only had her attacker not used a condom
but with the vaginal bleeding, possibly contaminated semen had come
into direct contact with her blood stream, increasing the chances
infection by a number of diseases.  At least there was one burden she
wouldn't have to bear. Since Donna had already been taking birth
control pills, there wouldn't be any need for her to take additional
drugs to ward off any unwanted pregnancy that might result from the
attack.

She stopped for a moment to let Donna think.  To give her back some
say in what happened to her.  To have some control.  "We had a call
from your friend, CJ Cregg. She's on her way. Would you rather wait
until you have a friendly face here to be with you?  We could wait a
few minutes."

Her first reaction was that she wanted to say yes. She'd never felt so
alone and wanted some to be there with her. For half a second, she
wished she'd told them to call Josh. As much of a friend as CJ had
been to her, Josh had always been the equivalent of emotional comfort
food to her.  That thought was quickly squashed.  In any other
circumstance that would be true.  But this...this was different.  She
couldn't let him see her like this.  Couldn't let him know what had
happened, even what little she actually remembered.  In fact, she
decided, she didn't want anyone to see her like this. Not even CJ.
She was not going to be a burden to anyone. Like so much in her life,
she could and would handle it on her own. And she wanted to get it
over and done with as soon as possible so they would leave her alone
and let her sleep.

Donna turned her head toward the interpreter nurse.  "No.  Don't want
anyone here.  Do it now."

The nurse, her nametag said Brenda, looked up at Dr. Holden and
translated.  Dr. Holden looked from the nurse to Donna.  She gave
Donna a soft smile.  "Okay, then we'll take care of it now.  I just
want you to know that if the bleeding is coming from what I think it
is, I'll need to give you a local so I can put in some stitches.  The
shot may hurt quite a bit..." Dr. Holden said.

'Great,' Donna thought. Something to look forward to.

"...but then you'll feel better."

'Well, that's something at least,' Donna thought. And it would be a
first since she'd woken up this morning. She nodded at the doctor in
understanding.

"Then, after we take some pictures for the police..."

'Just what I need, a Technicolor reminder of this day for posterity,'
Donna mused tiredly. She knew that the police would need the record of
what had happened but she wasn't feeling exactly photogenic.  She
wanted to care, wanted to say no, but couldn't work up the energy.

"...we'll get your CT scan and other X-rays done. Then we'll send you
to orthopedics and have them take care of your arm," Dr. Holden said.
At Donna's questioning look, she explained further.  "You've got a
dislocated elbow.  That's why your arm hurts so much.  Orthopedics
will reduce the dislocation.  You won't need a cast, just a sling for
a couple of weeks."

Well, Donna thought, she could just tell everyone she tripped or
something. It was her right arm, though, and she was right-handed.  It
was going to make typing hard and if Josh thought her penmanship was
bad before he was going to love how she wrote with her left hand. "Can
I leave after that?" Donna rasped to Brenda, who in turn told Dr.
Holden.

"No. How long you have to stay here will depend on the results of your
CT scan.  In any case, we'll need to keep you overnight for
observation. If your CT scans come out showing nothing more than a
concussion, we could possibly release you tomorrow."  Donna nodded,
then pointed to her throat.

Dr. Holden didn't need an interpreter to understand her.  "You vocal
cords are severely bruised and inflamed and because of it there's a
bit of swelling.  That's what's causing your throat problems. We're
going to leave you on some oxygen to make sure you're staying
well-ventilated. We're done with our questions for now. So from here
on out, I don't want you speak for the next week.  Not even
whispering.  Your throat will heal faster if you don't speak." Dr.
Holden patted Donna's shoulder and then moved around to the end of the
table.

Terrific.  Her arm was going to be in sling so writing and typing was
going to be a challenge and she wasn't going to be able to talk. Just
how the hell did her vocal cords get severely bruised and inflamed?
She wanted to scream.  Her brain had just about reached its saturation
point for information.

"Donna," Brenda asked her. "Would you like me to hold your hand?"
Donna nodded and Brenda held the hand on her good arm while Dr. Holden
and the nurses put her up in the stirrups for the exam. "Here, we go
Donna."

The exam was fairly high on the painful scale, but Donna only laid
there with hot, silent tears running out of the corner of her eyes and
into her hair.

"You're doing great, Donna, we're almost done. I've taken all the
samples and I've found what's causing the bleeding.  Just as I
thought, you'll need a couple of stitches.  I'm going to give you the
local now, squeeze Brenda's hand if your ready."

'I'm so not ready,' Donna thought. But since she wouldn't be ready
anytime in the next couple of centuries, she squeezed Brenda's hand
anyway and the nurse communicated that to Dr. Holden.

She had no idea that she could experience a new level of pain but the
needle going into her tender, battered internal flesh brought her up
into a near sitting position.  Stripping the last of her voice away, a
low guttural scream managed to escape from her throat and with it came
the immediate need to vomit. One of the nurses, ready for this
reaction brought a bowl up to her mouth, while Brenda helped support
her as she threw up.  She had nothing left in her system and only
managed to make everything hurt more with her dry heaving.

"I'm so sorry, Donna," Dr. Holden said with real compassion and
sympathy in her voice.  "We'll wait a minute for the local to take
effect just to make sure you don't have any more discomfort.

'Too late,' Donna thought. After a moment or two, she discovered that
indeed there was less pain from that part of her body.  She was so
tired and she wished her head didn't hurt so damn much. When Dr.
Holden sat down and went back to work, Donna didn't feel any more
discomfort.  She closed her eyes for a moment and this time the cool,
painless black welcomed her with open arms.

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

CJ and Josh jogged through the emergency room entrance and headed for
the emergency room admitting desk. The young nurse on duty looked up
as they approached.  "Can I help you?"

"I'm CJ Cregg and this is Joshua Lyman," CJ said, trying to catch her
breath. "We received a call that a friend of ours was here?  Donna
Moss."

"Yes, Ms. Cregg.  Please follow me.  The doctor asked that I have you
wait in her office. Mr. Lyman, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here."
The nurse got up and motioned for CJ to follow her.

"Why can't I come, too?" Josh asked.  "Please," he paused.  "She's
very important to me."

The nurse considered for a moment.  "I'll leave it up to the doctor.
You can wait with Ms. Cregg and we'll let Dr. Holden decide."

The three of them walked down the sparkling white hall.  "Please, is
Donna all right?" Josh asked.

The nurse seemed to consider her words carefully. "At this time, her
injuries don't appear to be life threatening," the nurse said, showing
them to a tiny office off the main emergency room. "The doctor will
give you an update when she arrives. Please sit down, she should be
with you in a few minutes."

They sat there for a few minutes, not knowing what to say. "I guess I
should call Leo and let him know what's going on," CJ said, pulling
out her phone.

Josh listened in silence as CJ made the call.  'What are you going to
tell him?' Josh asked silently. 'What happened?' his mind screamed.
What could be wrong with Donna?  His Donnatella. God, he hated
hospitals.  He especially hated this one.  After he'd been shot, he'd
gotten way too familiar with the stark walls of GW. But if Donna,
after everything she'd done for him, needed him to be here, then he'd
be here.

"Okay, Leo.  We'll let you know," she said, hanging up, just as the
doctor walked in.

The doctor was fairly young, about 35. Her badge said "Dr. Susan
Holden." She looked a bit surprised to see the two of them sitting in
her office.  She looked to CJ, "Ms. Cregg?"

"Yes, doctor.  I'm CJ Cregg.  This is Josh Lyman.  We're both friends
and co-workers of Donna's."

The doctor looked unsure for a moment, "I'm sorry, Mr. Lyman.  I'll
need you to wait outside while I speak to Ms. Cregg."

Josh wasn't going to back down.  He was going to be part of this
discussion. For himself and for Donna.  "Please, doctor.  I'd need to
know what's going on.  I'm Donna's boss but she is also one of my best
friends. I'd like to help her if I can."

The doctor took a second look at him, as if trying to remember
something. "You're the White House Deputy Chief of Staff, aren't you?
The one that was shot a couple of years ago.  I was just finishing my
residency about that time."

"Yes, ma'am.  Donna's my assistant."

"Oh, wait.  Of course.  I thought she looked familiar," Dr. Holden
said quietly as she sat down behind the desk.  "I remember her.  She
was standing in an observation room, watching your surgery.  I
remember because I was going to tell her that she was in a restricted
area.  But when I saw her, I couldn't bring myself to say the words,"
she paused, remembering. "She was standing there, watching you through
the glass.  No tears or sobbing or theatrics.  Her eyes never left
you, she just looked at you like she was willing you to live. As if
she could pass you her strength through the glass," she paused again
and took a breath.  "Then the First Lady walked in and told me that
Ms. Moss was there under her authority and she pulled me out of the
room."  Dr. Holden ran her hands over her tired eyes.  Her patient had
been different then.  Worried and grieving, but not the battered and
traumatized woman she'd just seen.

Josh exchanged a silent look with CJ. He hadn't known that she'd done
that.  He remembered her being there when he woke up, standing just
behind Leo. But he hadn't known that she'd stood watch over him like
some guardian angel while the doctors had worked to save his ravaged
heart. How like Donna to look after him, even when he was unconscious.

"Yes.  Doctor, that sounds just like Donna.  She's very important to
me.  Please tell us what's happened to her," Josh pleaded.  "The nurse
wouldn't give us any information.  Did she have an accident?  Is she
sick?"

Because of the bond she sensed between the man in her office and the
woman in her hospital, she decided to let him stay.  "I'm sorry Mr.
Lyman, Ms. Cregg, it's not quite that simple.  Ms. Moss was sexually
assaulted and nearly strangled to death in her apartment sometime
during the night."

CJ gasped and Josh stopped breathing altogether. It was now pretty
clear to Josh why Donna had told them to call CJ and not him. "But
she's going to be all right, isn't she, doctor?" CJ asked.

Dr. Holden considered for a moment, "Physically, yes.  She'll recover.
Emotionally, I doubt things will be so simple," she trailed off.

"Can we see her?" CJ asked.

"Not yet. I just sent her up to radiology for a CT scan and X-rays.
Then we'll send her to orthopedics. After that we'll get her settled
in a room and you can see her," Dr. Holden replied, folding her hands
in front of her on the desk.  "I need you both to understand some
things about Ms. Moss' condition.  You need to be prepared before you
see her," she took a breath and looked at each of them squarely.
"Your reactions when you see her could harm her recovery if you're not
careful."

"Of course, doctor, please go on," CJ said.

"Physically, she'll need a week or two to recover. Once we get the
reports from radiology, I'll have a clearer picture of her condition.
I'm fairly certain she has a grade 3 concussion and not a skull
fracture."

"What's a grade 3 concussion?" Josh asked.

"It's a concussion characterized by a loss of consciousness that lasts
longer than 5 minutes or post-traumatic amnesia that lasts longer than
24 hours.  At this time, Ms. Moss has no memory of the attack.  I
suspect that's a combination of emotional and physical factors. She
was also apparently unconscious for quite a while as the attack
happened sometime last night but she didn't call for help until early
this morning.  When the paramedics found her she was unconscious and
has continued to drift in an out this morning as we examined her." She
paused to let that sink in, then continued.  "But even if it is a
concussion, rather than a fracture, she'll need someone to keep a
fairly close eye on her for the next few days."

"I can stay with her," CJ and Josh said in unison.

"We'll take care of her," CJ said, for both of them.

Dr. Holden smiled, "It's good that she has friends like you two.
She's going to need the support of those around her, even if she says
she doesn't want it." She took a breath, "Ms. Moss also has a
dislocated elbow, so she'll need to keep it in a sling for a while but
there shouldn't be any permanent impairment. She has a number of
facial lacerations and bruises to the right side of her face, but her
eye and the underlying bone structure seem to be fine. Oh, and I've
instructed her not to speak for the next week."

"Why can't she speak?" Josh asked, trying to take it all in.

"Her vocal cords are severely bruised and inflamed, a result of the
trauma to her neck during the attack," the doctor replied. We've given
her medication to ease the inflammation and the swelling it caused,"
she paused. "She also has a burn injury to her abdomen that will
require the dressing be changed daily.  If either of you is squeamish
about it..."

"No, we'll take care of it," Josh replied.  He had a feeling he didn't
want to know but asked anyway.  "How did she get a burn injury on her
abdomen?"

Like someone who has seen too many times what one person can do to
another, Dr. Holden sighed and rubbed her eyes for a moment. "Her
attacker left behind a calling card. In the skin just below her
hipbone, using what we think was a cigarette, he burned 7 small holes
in the shape of a happy face."

'Oh, God.'  was all Josh could think. Oh, God.  Donna's voice floated
through his brain, commenting about her alabaster skin.  "Will it
scar?" he asked.

"Most definitely," she replied. "One more thing..."

'One MORE thing?' Josh thought.  How much more was Donna going to have
to endure?

"The attack caused some tearing in the vaginal wall and we had to give
her stitches.  She's going to be very sore and uncomfortable for the
next few days." She leaned back in her chair.  "I hate to say this,
but from my experience with other patients of sexual assault, her
physical injuries are going to be the easier part of her recovery.  As
I said earlier, the emotional injuries are most likely going to be
much harder to recover from. As standard procedure, someone from the
rape crisis center in our psychiatric department will be contacting
her to set up a time for an appointment and an evaluation. She'll need
support from those around her and therapy to help her sort everything
out."

'No kidding,' Josh mused.  Her recovery from this would make his
emotional trauma and recovery from Rosslyn seem like a walk in the
park by comparison. But he intended to be there for her as she'd been
for him. If she didn't like it than he would just have to turn the
tables on her and pull out his own set of "The Rules."

Just then, Dr. Holden's pager went off. She looked at the number and
then picked up the phone and dialed.  "This is Dr. Holden, you paged
me?" she said into the phone, nodding as she listened.  "Okay, I'll be
right there," she hung up the phone and stood up.  "You two better
come with me.  That was radiology.  Ms. Moss has become combative and
uncooperative."

To Be Continued...



Chapter 5 - MATURE



The three of them charged into radiology and made their way to the CT
suite. They found one technician sitting at the control console and,
through a large glass window they saw the CT equipment and a second
technician.  The second technician stood at the mouth of the CT
scanner, trying to calm a struggling Donna.

The first technician looked up from the console as they came in, he
seemed a bit relieved by their arrival. "I'm glad you're here, Dr.
Holden."

Josh watched Donna through the glass, his heart twisting in his chest.
 He couldn't see her face as her head was inside the narrow scanning
chamber but he could tell it was definitely her struggling frantically
with the technician.

"What happened?" Dr. Holden was asking the technician.

"We're not sure, doctor.  She slept through the other x-rays.  Not a
peep out of her.  We put her on the gantry, not even a flicker.  We
slid the gantry into the scanner and then as we started to set up for
the first scan, she woke up and has been combative ever sense. We've
tried to get her to be still but as you can see, we haven't had much
luck."

Dr. Holden leaned forward and pressed a button next to a microphone
that fed into a speaker in the adjoining room. "Donna?  Donna, this is
Dr. Holden.  You need to calm down.  The procedure will go faster if
you remain still.  I know it's a little close in there, but you need
to be calm and still."  Her words seem to have little or no effect.

Dr. Holden turned to Josh and CJ.  "Because of her head injury, I
can't sedate her, and under the circumstances, I don't want to
restrain her." She focused on CJ.  "Maybe a familiar voice would help.
 Do you think you could try talking to her?"

CJ nodded and stepped up to the mike and pressed the button. "Donna?
Donna, it's CJ. I came as quickly as I could.  I know you're scared,
but these people just want to help you," she paused.  "So what do you
say? How about you help them so we can finish up and get you out of
there?" Donna's struggles slowed but didn't stop. "Please, Donna..."

"Let me try," Josh said, softly.

Part of Donna knew she should be quiet and still.  But that part was
being overridden by the part of her that was in full blow panic mode.
She'd woken up in what felt like a small, white metal tube.  A metal
tube that felt like it was slowly, ever so slowly, contracting in on
her. The white pressed in on her, making her feel trapped.  She had
absolutely reached the end of the road on her patience and tolerance.
She'd had enough and was determined to get out of this contraption
they had her in and run out of this booby hatch they called a
hospital.  She saw it as a blessing she didn't remember what had
happened to her last night.  But the process at the hospital was going
to forever gouged into her memory with crystal clarity.  The parts
she'd been awake for anyway. It also vaguely occurred to her that the
process in the hospital had probably taken longer than the actual
attack, or whatever is was, had.

When she heard CJ's voice, she had felt a momentary sense of relief
that someone familiar, someone who could take her away from this place
was near. But it hadn't been enough to get rid of all the panic or the
sense of being trapped.  She wanted out and she wanted out now.

"Donna?" Josh's voice flowed around her in the tube. His tone was a
softer, gentler version of the one he often bellowed at her to get her
attention.  "Donna, it's Josh." 'As if I wouldn't know his voice,'
Donna thought.  Hearing him speak, knowing he was close by, she was
flooded with two different emotions.

The first was absolute and utter embarrassment and humiliation at him
seeing her in the hospital.  She didn't want him to see her battered
and chewed up.  She didn't want what had happened to her to touch him
in any way. She wanted to continue to be the strong, capable person he
relied on.

The second was complete and utter, soothing relief, to the point where
she wanted nothing more than to crawl into his arms and cry out all
the pain, physical and emotional, that she was feeling.

Both emotions had the side benefit of shoving the panic out of her
system.  Her left arm, the uninjured one, which had been flaying
against the sides of the tube, dropped to her side and her legs were
still. She looked up at the white and felt the feeling of being
trapped and crushed by it begin to seep back into her.

"I need you to do something for me, Donna." Josh's voice said.
Donna's assistant side perked up its ears and, out of habit, she
waited for his instructions.  "Close your eyes..." she did as he
asked, "...and listen to the sound of my voice," he paused.  "You
remember when you asked me to give you skis for our first Christmas in
the White House?"

Yes, of course she remembered. His voice began to wrap around her,
acting as a soothing barrier to the crushing white.  Everything else
faded but the sound of his voice.  She didn't even hear the machinery
start up as they took the scans. "I know you liked the book I gave
you..." she'd loved it. "But I know you never got to go skiing."

It didn't matter where he was going with his words, Donna thought, now
relaxed.  The sound of his voice was point enough.  He had the most
wonderful voice.  "If you cooperate with these guys, I promise, right
here in front of Dr. Holden and CJ that I'll take you skiing this
winter. Since I don't know how to ski, we'll find someone to teach you
and I promise to pay for your ski rental, cause I'm not buying you a
pair of skis until you find out if you even like skiing."

Inside the tube, Donna slid back into the blackness with Josh's voice
soothing her soul and the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips.

**********

A man on a mission, Josh pulled his car up in front of her building.
He was there to pick up some things for Donna and be back to see her
when they got her settled into a room. He jogged up the front steps of
Donna's building and used the key she'd given him, after one of his
'I'm too drunk to remember where I live so I'll go to Donna's and
sleep on her couch' episodes, to get inside. Funny how he couldn't
remember where he lived, but he always remembered how to get to
Donna's.

Climbing the stairs, he reached her apartment and found her super,
Josh recalled Donna telling him once that his name was Mr. Roselli,
working on hanging a new door to her apartment.  The old one was
leaning drunkenly against the hallway wall.  There was a huge crack in
it where, he assumed, the police had broken it while trying to get
into her apartment earlier that morning.

"Help you?" Mr. Roselli asked, his voice sounding like rough gravel.

"Yes, sir.  I came to get some things for Ms. Moss. She's in the
hospital and I'm here to get a few of the items she'll need."

Mr. Roselli looked at him for a moment, then shrugged and went back to
fiddling with the door. "Help yourself. But be quick, I've got other
stuff to take care of.  Having to replace the door that the damn cops
broke down has put me way behind."

'Nice guy,' Josh thought. Not. He hadn't even asked how Donna was.
Moving past Roselli, he went into Donna's apartment. And stopped dead
in his tracks. The place looked like it had been demolished. Every
drawer in the living room had been pulled out and the contents
scattered. Every cushion and pillow had been pulled off of what it was
part of and tossed around. Lamps and knickknacks lay toppled or
broken. Donna's attacker really did a job on the place. Of course the
authorities hadn't helped much either with the broken door and the
splotches of gray fingerprint dust that seemed to coat all available
surfaces.

Stepping over things the best he could, he made his way to the
bedroom. Somehow the damage was even worse in there. The only thing
not ripped up or turned over was her bed.  And yet, her bed, above all
else in the room, made it hard to breathe and nearly stopped his
heart. It was stripped, presumably the sheets and bedding had been
taken away as evidence by the police. In the middle of the bed was a
stain of newly drying blood. Donna's blood, that stood out sharply in
contrast to pale peach colored mattress.

Trying to clamp down the anger that had suddenly threatened to boil
over, Josh leaned his back up against the nearest wall and worked on
remembering how to breathe. A few minutes later, feeling a bit calmer
but no less angry, he opened her closet and found a small suitcase.
Picking up the fallen nightstand and setting it to rights, he laid the
suitcase down on it. He'd never been good at packing at his own
things, much less anyone else's. But as methodically and quickly as he
could he sifted through her room and the bathroom picking out clothing
and toiletries he thought she might need.

Josh was about to close the suitcase when, on the floor, under the
edge of some clothing, something caught his eye.  A fuzzy leg and arm
stuck out from underneath what appeared to be a blouse.  He gave it a
gentle pull and came face to face with a small grey stuffed rabbit.
Soft from being so well loved, it's grey ears flopped forward over its
small brown button eyes. Donna had kept it on her bed, he recalled.
She'd told Josh it's name once and he searched his memory to remember
what it was.  Then it surfaced. "Hello, Zane," he said.  She'd told
him his name was Zane after the western author "Zane Grey," a
particular favorite of her grandfather's.  Thinking that something
familiar and friendly might help comfort Donna while she was in the
hospital, Josh slid Zane inside the case.

Seeing her car keys on the table by the front door, he thought to grab
her purse as well but couldn't find it anywhere in her apartment.  He
also couldn't seem to find her cell phone or her White House ID badge.
Could they have been in her purse?  Could the bastard have stolen her
purse? Or was it buried somewhere in the rubble of her apartment? He'd
have to see to it that she cancelled everything.  And he'd get her a
new cell phone and have a new White House ID issued. He also see that
she had a new bed and that things were set to rights in her apartment
before she came home. Finding a purpose, his anger and frustration
cooled a fraction as his mind shifted gears and started making a list
of things he would do to fix that end of things.

After setting Donna's bag in the trunk, Josh climbed back into his car
and started the engine.  Just then, his phone began to ring. The odd
thing was, the ring coming from the phone was the ring he'd set up for
when Donna called him. Like most cell phones, his phone could be
programmed with different tones for different callers.  It had been
one way he avoided Amy's calls. When his phone rang with the tone he'd
set up for her, he didn't even bother taking the phone out. He'd given
Donna her own tone as well and when he heard it, the call never went
unanswered. Any one of the locations she normally was in when she
called him, her apartment, her desk at the White House, or on her cell
phone, all rang with the same distinctive tone.

Pulling out his phone, he looked at the display.  "Donna's Cell," the
display read. Since, to his knowledge, she was still in the hospital
and couldn't talk, who was using her cell phone?

He pressed the talk button.  "Hello?"

"Is this Joshua?" the voice on the other end, presumably using Donna's
cell phone, asked.  The voice was distinctly male and spoke without
much pause or hesitation. Josh didn't recognize it.

"Yes. Who is this?" he replied, suddenly uneasy.  No one but Donna,
his mother, and members of Congress who didn't know better called him
"Joshua."

The caller ignored the question, "Did you know, Joshua, that you're
the first person she programmed into her cell phone's speed dial?"

'Oh shit,' was all Josh could think. It was him.  It was the bastard
that had hurt Donna, had put her in the hospital.  "You bastard."

The caller's first response was a deep chuckle.  "Yes, I can see why
you might think that. You're very quick.  Since you know who I am,
tell me who you are.  Her boyfriend?"

Think, Josh.  Think.  Maybe there's some way this guy could be
tracked.  Donna's phone, and Josh's for that matter, had been issued
to them by the White House and had secured lines.  As much as he
wanted to tell this guy what he really thought of him or simply hang
up on this sick piece of crap, he had to keep him talking.  He pulled
the car away from the curb and drove to the White House.  If he could
keep the psycho talking, he'd pass a note to Ron Butterfield or
whoever and maybe they could trace the call.

"Joshua?"

"Josh."

"Okay, Josh," the voice said, calmly.  "You didn't answer my question."

Josh's mind was going a mile a minute.  "What was it again?"

"Were you her boyfriend?"

Were?  Oh, God.  He thought she was dead.  He didn't know she was
alive.  He meant to kill her and thought he had succeeded.  "Something
like that," he replied to the caller's question, still reeling from
this new development.  It just never occurred to him that Donna's
attacker meant to kill her. Planned to kill her. Set out to kill her.
It was not a possibility his mind had been willing to entertain.

"Do you work at the White House, too?" the caller asked.

"Why would you think that?" Keep it together Josh.  Keep him talking.
Relief flooded him as he saw the White House come into view.

"Well, since she did, I thought that's maybe where you met."

Josh couldn't believe he was sitting here having, what sounded like
for all intents and purposes, a perfectly calm, rational discussion
with Donna's attacker and would be murderer. Anyone listening in, but
not knowing the situation, would think they were new co-workers or
neighbors trying to get to know each other.  It turned Josh's stomach
and made his free hand grip the steering wheel so tightly, the
knuckles stood out in stark white contrast. He pulled into the parking
lot and climbing out of his car, jogged over to the guard station.

He phrased his response carefully. "No, we met at a party," he lied.
"How do you know she worked at the White House?" he said, using the
past tense to play along with the caller.

Grabbing a pen he motioned to Steve, the guard on duty for a piece of
paper.  Steve handed him a pad. Josh scribbled his message and
returned it to him.

It read, "Need Ron Butterfield. Dangerous caller. Call from Donna Moss
cell phone to Josh Lyman cell phone. Need to trace. What do I do?"

Understanding Josh's urgency, Steve turned and quickly called Ron
Butterfield's office. All threats or attacks against White House staff
were supposed to be reported to the Secret Service.  By now, Leo would
have told Ron what had happened to Donna.  He would understand Josh's
note.

"It wasn't very hard to figure out.  I found her White House badge in
her apartment. In fact, I've got it right here.  My own memento of our
time together.  She really was quite lovely.  For a whore, I mean."

The last statement was like an unexpected kick to the gut and Josh
nearly lost his temper right there. To hear such a vile thing about
Donnatella, his Donnatella, the brightest, funniest, most honorable
and caring person he'd ever known, just about sent him over the edge.
"Don't say things like about her. She was nothing like that," he said,
through teeth clenched so tight he thought they would shatter.

Steve handed Josh a note. "Go to the Northwest Lobby, you will be
met," it said. Josh nodded and headed for the lobby.

The caller didn't seem to mind the bit of anger that had invaded
Josh's response, "Oh, no offense intended, Josh," he said, acting as
if they were old friends.  "All women are whores, especially the
blonde ones. They are the worst of all. Their hair is their emblem,
their Scarlet Letter, if you will. They use anything and everything,
especially sex, to blind you, deceive you, bend and break you to their
will." He paused. "But now that I see them for what they are, I'll
take care of them. All of them," Madness had begun to seep into his
voice. "Someday, mankind will see and they will thank me for ridding
the world of them."

Josh moved quickly from the guardhouse to the lobby, where Ron and two
other agents were waiting. "Do you still have the caller on the
phone?" Ron asked softly.  Josh nodded.  Ron motioned for him to
follow him.

As Josh followed the agents, the caller, apparently unaware of what
Josh was doing, kept on with his account.  "I really picked a good one
to start my work.  It was meant to be.  I saw her and I knew. I didn't
even realize she worked for the government. At the White House, no
less. In the very seat of our nation's power.  But we can't have
whores in the government, can we?"

'You don't know much about politics, do you?' Josh's mind replied
crazily.  Sarcasm was the only way his brain could deal with the
horrific words he was hearing. "Why are you telling me this? I mean I
knew her, loved her." 'Well, it was true,' he thought. Maybe he'd
never let himself think it, or really process it, but love her he did.

There was a slight pause, as if the caller was trying to figure that
out, "I don't quite know, really.  I was looking at her cell phone and
I was curious. A cell phone can provide an interesting glimpse into a
person's life. Don't you think? Who and what is important to the owner
is all listed out there in the address book on the phone.  I saw your
name and wondered about the person she had picked for her first entry.
That's the most important one.  You would think it would have been her
parents, but they're quite far down in the list." He chuckled a bit.
"I guess to be totally honest I needed to tell someone what I've done.
 I mean it isn't exactly something I can call the newspapers about. I
also wanted to make you understand."

"Understand what?" Josh asked.

They had moved downstairs and were jogging down a long corridor, to a
large door.  The agents ushered him inside.  It was a large room
filled with electronic equipment. Ron held up a small device and
motioned for Josh to give him the phone.  Josh handed it to him.  Ron
plugged the phone into the device and handed it back to Josh. He put
the phone back to his ear and continued to listen, even when every
instinct he had was telling him to smash the phone against the nearest
wall.  He need to keep him talking.  He could get mad later.  So Josh
closed down the part of him that wanted to react to what he was
hearing as the agents began working on their equipment to find the
caller.

"Since you knew her, you probably see me as a monster.  A monster that
has taken her away from you. But I'm not a monster.  I've actually
killed two birds with this one special stone.  I've removed her from
this world where she could tempt and do harm and released her into the
next life where she'll be reborn into her spiritual form. On that
plane of existence, her thoughts will be pure and she will never again
hurt anyone. You see, I've actually done her a great service. I've
liberated her."

Josh wanted to scream that Donnatella Moss had never hurt anyone in her life.

The caller continued, "She was my first. My premiere.  I realize now
that I hit her too hard.  I wanted her to be awake, to know what was
happening to her and why.  But I got excited, too anxious. It was
opening night, after all." He chuckled at that. "She wasn't dead then,
but for the most part she just laid there. I must confess that I got a
little angry about that.  I hit her again and again to try and wake
her up but it didn't do any good. I'm afraid took some of that anger
out on her apartment," he said, referring to the devastation Josh had
seen there. "...and her."

Josh blocked his mind from seeing the image of Donna being repeatedly struck.

The caller was happily continuing with his story, his tone becoming
almost reverent. "Then I realized that I was being given a gift.  She
would be the first and I was free to do what I wanted without her
struggling.  I could work on my technique. Perfect it. For example,
the gun.  I had planned to use the gun to kill her.  And I had a
supremely appropriate way to do it.  I would just obliterate the thing
that was the center of her power. The thing that all women used to
tempt men with.  I planned to put the gun inside her and fire," he
finished, apparently supremely happy with his solution.

"But I learned that was not the best plan.  The hammer of the gun got
caught on her flesh and jammed and although I enjoyed the blood it
released it ruined any chance of using the gun to do the job. So, I
had to think of another way. Strangling her just seemed the most
logical way. And it was an epiphany, let me tell you. Shooting her
would have been too quick. But to feel the life under your hands. To
feel that life ebb away.  The moment of struggle that gives way to
peace. From then on I knew I was being shown the true path to man's
salvation and woman's liberation."

Josh simply handed Ron the phone, sagged against the nearest wall and
slid to the floor in a sitting position.  He ground the heels of his
palms into his eyes, trying to hold back the tears and the images
trying to form there.  He'd reached the end of the line.  He couldn't
hear one more word.  It was all Josh could do to not find the nearest
trash can and vomit. That's why she'd needed stitches.  The gun had
cut her. Then he'd strangled her, obviously, thankfully, not long or
hard enough to kill her but it hadn't been because he hadn't wanted
to.

"No.  I'm a friend of Josh's," Ron was saying to the caller.  "Wait,
I'm interested in what you have to say, why don't you tell....." his
voice trailed off and he lowered the phone.  "He hung up. Did you get
it?" Ron asked the agents manning a bank of consoles.

"Yes sir," the young agent replied, handing Ron a piece of paper. Ron
pulled out his phone and dialed.  "Agent Baker? Yes, this is Agent
Butterfield from the Secret Service. We have a location for you," he
rattled off an address.  "Be sure to let me know what you find," he
said and then hung up.

Turning to Josh, he filled him in. "While we were recording the call,
we were also able to trace it. Normally you can't trace cell phones,"
he explained. "But all White House issued phones have a special
tracking device built into them.  The call did originate from Donna's
cell phone, somewhere in Arlington, Virginia. When I received the call
from the guardhouse regarding your note, I put the FBI on alert, in
case we could trace the call. Because Donna is a federal employee but
not a member of the First Family, this falls under FBI jurisdiction.
They're heading to the location where we traced the call and will
report back to me with what they find.  I'm afraid I will have to
impound your phone as evidence.  Also, in case he decides to call
again, we'll have it hooked up and can trace the call again."

Josh nodded, mutely.  "He thinks she's dead," he said, quietly.

"What?" Ron asked.

"He thinks he killed her," Josh said, a bit louder this time.

"Yeah, I know." Ron was quiet for a moment as he considered that.
"Well, then we may just have to make him think he's right," he said,
cryptically.  "Here's what we'll do....."

To Be Continued....



Chapter 6 - YTEEN



Josh felt empty and dazed, although he could also feel his anger
simmering just below the surface.  But he couldn't address that right
now.  He'd just come from the purchasing office where he'd put in a
requisition for two new cell phones. one for him and one for Donna. It
occurred to him that Donna wouldn't need one until she could talk
again but when he'd been picking out a new phone for himself, he
realized that she would need some way to communicate. With her right
arm in a sling, writing with her left hand was really not a viable
option.

Taking this into consideration, he'd wound up getting both of them the
same type of phone/PDA unit.  Well, it wasn't a phone so much as it a
small computer.  A bit wider but no longer than a regular cell phone,
you could write on it, or use the small built-in keyboard to type into
it, which would be perfect for Donna.  It came with text messaging
capabilities and yet it could be used like a regular cell phone.
Because it exceeded the standard budgetary allowance, Josh had to pay
a bit out of his own pocket for them but the phone service was still
covered by the government. They would be ready tomorrow and he would
give hers to her then.  In keeping with the plan he and Ron had
discussed with Leo, the phones were both in his name.

Walking to his office, he tried to avoid looking at Donna's empty desk
but his eyes drifted there anyway. It was fairly neat. He knew she
tried to organize it as much possible before she left in the evenings.
Frowning for a second, he noticed something sitting on her chair.
Moving over to it, he looked down. It was her purse. In spite of
everything, he smiled grimly. She must have left it here last night.
Well, that was something the bastard hadn't been able to take from
her.  At least she wouldn't have to deal with getting new credit cards
or driver's license or anything else in her purse.

His eyes lingered over a framed picture she had near her computer
monitor. It was taken at the President's first inauguration. In it,
Donna was standing between him and Sam. He remembered her scrambling
to find a gown to wear, until CJ had helped her find the sea glass
green one she was wearing in the photo.  She was smiling and laughing,
he couldn't remember why. Even amazing wasn't a good enough word to
describe how beautiful she'd looked.

Unable to look anymore, he gently picked up her purse and carried it
into his office. Closing the door behind him, he set her purse
carefully on the floor next to his backpack.  'I'll take it over to
the hospital later,' he thought as he walked to his desk.  He'd been
gone from the hospital a lot longer than he'd expected.  But after
what had happened earlier, it couldn't be helped. Picking up the
phone, he dialed CJ's cell.

She picked up on the first ring. "Hey, mi amore."

"Hey, Claudia Jean," he paused.

CJ picked up on the silence and the fact that he'd used her full name.
"What's going on Josh?"

He avoided the question, "What's the word on Donna?"

"Dr. Holden said they're just about done with her in orthopedics and
should be bringing her to her room in about half an hour. The X-rays
and CAT scan showed she only has a concussion, apparently a pretty
severe concussion but if all goes well they'll let her out of the
hospital in the next day or two."

'I hit her too hard,' the bastard had said.  That phrase kept bouncing
around in Josh's head.  "Oh," was all he could think to say.

Now that she'd given him the update on Donna, CJ pressed the fact that
he hadn't answered her earlier question.  "What's going on, Josh?" He
still didn't answer but she knew he was there. She could hear him
breathing. The sound was tight and a little fast.  "Josh, what is it?"
she said a bit more softly.

He took a breath.  "I can't go into detail right now.  It's something
to do with what happened to Donna, there have been....new
developments," he paused, sinking down into his chair.  "Donna's
attacker called me from her cell phone."

"What?! Josh, what are you talking about?"

"Her attacker called me and told me...things about the attack.
Including the fact that he thinks he succeeded in killing her. Ron,
Mike Casper and Leo think it's a good idea if we let him go on
thinking that.  It will keep Donna safe."

"But how are we.....oh.  God, Josh," she said.

"Yeah. There's going to be a meeting in the Oval about it in about 15
minutes.  We'll need you in on it.  Can you call in?  Do you have
somewhere private you can talk?"

She considered that, "Yeah. I'll go and sit in my car."

"Kay.  I've got a bag for Donna in my car.  I'll be over as soon as
the meeting is finished. Do you think you can you stay with her until
I get there?"

"No problem," she replied.  "I'll need to get moving on some spin for
this but I can do some things by phone and in any case, Donna needs
one of us here so I'll wait until you get here before I take off."

"Okay.  Talk to you in a bit," he responded.  Hanging up the phone he
slumped forward onto his desk. Where was this nightmare going to end?

**********

"So is everything set?" CJ asked him as they stood in the doorway to
Donna's room.

"Yeah, her admission records have all been changed and everyone who
knows she's here, from the police to the paramedics to the x-ray techs
to her building super to the emergency room staff and the coroners
office know what to say," Josh replied. He had his hands in his
pockets so no one would see they were clenched into fists. He turned
and looked into the room for a second at Donna's sleeping form.  She
was the only occupant in the two-bed patient room and that was the way
it was going to stay. The guard, courtesy of Ron Butterfield, Mike
Casper and the D.C. police, that now stood beside the doorway would
see to that.

The meeting in the Oval had been subdued but productive. Between the
President, the First Lady, Leo, Josh, Toby, Ron, Mike and CJ on
speakerphone, they'd mapped out a game plan. It had felt strange
making plans for Donna without consulting her, but it couldn't be
helped.

"How's she doing?" he asked CJ quietly as he glanced back into Donna's
room. She had been brought to her room shortly before he'd arrived a
few minutes ago.

"Not a peep out of her. Not even a flicker. The orderly that brought
her up here said she's hardly moved since she got upset in the CT
suite.  Even when they reduced the dislocation of her elbow in
orthopedics, which I'm told hurts like a bitch, she didn't even
flinch. In fact, he thought she slept right through it.  CJ leaned in
a bit, "One thing though. A couple of times I swear her eyes were
open. The one time I really got a good look...." she trailed off.

"What?" he asked, urging her to go on.

CJ looked at Donna, whose eyes were currently closed.  "Well,
I...there....it was like she wasn't there. She didn't even blink. It
was like she was catatonic."

He looked at Donna again, concern over CJ's words flooding through
him. But it wasn't something he was ready to acknowledge. "Between her
concussion and the wide variety of drugs they've got her on she's
probably a little out of it right now anyway," he said, trying to
reassure himself as much as CJ.

CJ smiled slightly, but was completely unconvinced, "Right. I'm sure that's it."

Donna heard the doubt in CJ's voice. It was kind of hard to get things
past CJ. She'd do well to remember that. Her eyes slid open and she
watched them as they continued speaking.  Although they were trying to
keep their voices low, she'd clearly heard their entire conversation.
Her throat may be crippled right now but her ears worked fine.

People said the most interesting things when they thought you were
unconscious or asleep. They also didn't ask you questions or poke and
prod you as much because they didn't want to disturb you. She'd made
that discovery when she'd woken up as they'd wheeled her into
orthopedics. But they didn't know she knew that. She'd kept her eyes
closed and her ears open. Words like 'concussion,' 'rape' and
'strangulation' had been gently, sympathetically, pityingly whispered
as the staff had moved her around the hospital. Her mind filed the
words away, collecting them like puzzle pieces, knowing they helped to
fill in the blanks in her head, but not being ready to put them
together to form a picture. Whenever she tried to think about what had
happened it floated away from her so she'd just decided not to think
about it for the time being.

It helped that she was now full of what she thought were some fairly
good drugs.  Like any really good pain medication, she knew that
things hurt but she didn't care. She felt...disconnected. Yes, that
was a good way to put it. Like the connection between feeling the
pain, physical or emotional, and acknowledging that pain was missing.
Good thing they'd given her the drugs BEFORE they'd worked on her arm.
Even with the drugs, her brain had reported it had hurt viciously.
Now, she felt her arm strapped securely to her side in a tight sling.
Her brain reported that the pain in her arm was minimal now.

"Everyone, including the First Lady wants to come by and see her this
afternoon," she heard Josh say to CJ.

Well, that got a reaction. Somewhere a connection was made, a synapse
finally broke through the drugs and fired. Angry panic seemed to rise
out of the abyss. They would NOT see her like this. It was bad enough
that CJ and Josh and perfect strangers had already seen her. She would
not permit any more of it.

"Do you think that's wise?" CJ said.  "I mean, she's not even
officially supposed to be here. How is going to look if half the White
House shows up for visiting hours?"

'That's not going to happen,' she thought. 'They will not come to see
me. I'll climb out the window before I let them come.' She had to tell
CJ and Josh to stop even talking about this. It was not going to
happen. But she couldn't speak. How could she get their attention
without getting out of bed?  She didn't think the drugs would let her
stand at that point. Her eyes darted around looking for some way to
get their attention.

"Well, that's why Leo put his foot down.  Only he and Mrs. Bartlet
will by coming by and they'll be coming at different times and using a
back entrance," Josh explained.

She saw a small plastic water pitcher sitting on the bed table. She
didn't even think about it. The instinct was primal and automatic at
that point. Picking up in her left hand, she hurled it toward the
door.

"Well, I guess it's all right. After all, the press won't be
watching...." An explosion cut her off as the pitcher slammed into the
wall just behind Josh and sprayed them with water.

"What the hell?" Josh said turning. He saw Donna sitting up in bed,
shaking her head furiously. A deep scowl creased her forehead. Trying
not to slip on the water, he and CJ rushed into the room and stopped
at the side of her bed. "What's wrong?" he said, seeing she was
clearly agitated about something. She opened her mouth and tried to
speak but nothing came out.  "No, don't talk.  Write it down.  CJ, do
you have anything she could write on?"

"Yeah, hang on," she sifted around her purse and came up with a small
pad of paper and a pen. Handing both to Donna, she and Josh watched as
Donna set the pad on her lap and scribbled awkwardly with her left
hand.

She held it up for them. "NO Visitors!"

"But Donna," CJ said. "They're just worried about you and want you to
know they care."

She shook the pad, "NO Visitors!"

Josh could see it was clearly upsetting her. "Okay, Donna.  Okay. Just
calm down. We'll tell everyone that you want to rest. Now lie down,"
he said, worriedly. She laid back down on the bed, the pad clasped
tightly to her chest. He turned and looked at CJ. "Why don't you go
back to the White House. You'll need to get things rolling for your
afternoon briefing.  I'll stay with her.  There's a few things we need
to talk about."

CJ nodded and looked at her.  "Donna? Donna I...." she didn't know
where to begin.  "I'm really sorry about what happened. If you need
anything, anything at all.  Let me know." Donna, who seemed to be much
more calm now, nodded. CJ tried to smile reassuringly.  It almost
worked. Then she turned and walked quickly out of the room so that
Donna wouldn't see the tears forming in her eyes.

Josh watched CJ walk from the room and then he turned back to Donna.
She was still now, her eyes closed as if she was asleep and the pad
still tucked against her. The scribbled writing was facing out, a
clear 'keep away' sign to anyone who might wander too close. He knew
she wasn't asleep. From what had just happened he knew she'd figured
out the 'playing possum' move and had probably heard most, if not all,
of his conversation with CJ. And here he thought he'd been the only
one to ever think of that move when he'd used it in the hospital after
Rosslyn. Of course, Donna had seen right through it then. With
everyone else he'd been able to get away with it, but not her.  Well,
she'd met her match this time and in a second he'd tell her that. But
first, he took a moment to study her, careful to keep his expression
neutral in case her eyes were not quite as tightly shut as they
appeared.

His heart did a hard jerk in his chest.  She looked about as bad as
the doctor had led him to expect, but he didn't think there was any
way he would have ever been ready to see her in her present condition.
The right side of her face was a Technicolor collection of bruises and
her bottom lip was split and swollen. Her right eye was also swollen
about halfway shut and when she'd been angrily informing them she
wanted no visitors, he'd noticed her right eye was partially red from
broken blood vessels. Then there was her neck. 'Oh, God,' he thought.
Her long, delicate, alabaster neck was covered in angry red marks and
bruises vaguely in the shape of large hands where they had pressed and
squeezed and gripped, in an attempt to take Donna from him. He refused
to let his mind move onto the other injuries he knew she had lower on
her body, putting all of it away for now. He wanted to touch her,
wanted to hold her hand. To make some kind of connection with her. But
after what had happened, he didn't know if she'd be ready to have
anyone touch her, so he simply took a breath and held onto the bed
rail.

"Donna?" He got no answer, no indication of awareness. "Donna, I know
you're awake. It's okay. It's just us. I want to talk to you but
before I can I'm going to need you to open your eyes." Still no
response.  Well, time to try something else. "You know you're
forgetting one very important thing. I perfected the 'playing possum'
move when I was in the hospital. There was also one person who could
always see through it and that was you. Do you remember how you used
to get me to open my eyes when you thought I was using it on you?" He
waited, but there was no response so he continued. "You would sing,
remember?  Donna, you're my best friend and all but no one has a worse
singing voice than you. Well, except maybe me.  So unless you'd like
me to start singing everything I can think of by the Doobie Brothers,
or you know, the theme from "Oklahoma," you'd better open your eyes."

As if he'd said the magic word, her eyes clicked open. "Hi," he said
with a little smile. When she didn't smile back but only looked at him
blankly, he continued. "Donna, I'm sorry about everything that's
happened to you" he told her softly. "I know that right now you'd like
nothing better than to crawl someplace dark and quiet where you can
lick your wounds in private. I know, because I've been there. In some
ways I know exactly what you're feeling." He paused.  "In others ways
I have no concept of what you're feeling and never will." He watched
her for a moment, "Um, tomorrow some things are going to happen that
you may not like but they're being done in your best interests because
I....we....care about you very much."

Even though her eyes were open, the expression, or lack of expression,
there was a little unnerving. He now understood what CJ was talking
about. But somehow he knew she was listening. "I can keep Leo away but
there's no way that Mrs. Bartlet is going to stay away."  Donna
suddenly shook her head, nixing that idea. "Donna," he said with a
slight smile. "You know as well as I do that Mrs. Bartlet does what
she wants. I could talk until I was blue in the face and she'd just
comment about how well the color suits me."

Just the very tip of the corner of her mouth twitched. If he hadn't
been watching or if he didn't know her as well as he did he would have
missed it.  He relaxed fractionally. "So what do you say?" He figured
it would be important for her to have some say in what was happening
to her.

Silently, Donna picked up the pen, scribbled something down on the pad
and held it up. "Okay."

Josh smiled softly at her. "Good, thank you for not making me give
Mrs. Bartlet even more reason to tease me than she already does." He
exhaled, getting ready for the next part. "Now there's one more person
I need you to see." He held up his hand when she started to object.
"Please, let me finish." After a moment, she nodded mutely. "Okay,
they're going to let you out of here tomorrow morning." A spark of
interest flashed in her eyes. "Yeah, I figured you'd be happy about
that. But, the only way we could get them to do it was to promise your
doctor that someone would be around to look after you. So Mrs. Bartlet
told them you'd be staying in the Residence for the next couple of
days and she'd oversee your medical care."  There were more reasons,
many more reasons that she was staying in the Residence for the next
week but she wasn't ready to hear them right now. He'd have to tell
her after the thing tomorrow but now was not the time.

Donna started shaking her head again. "I know that wouldn't be your
first choice," he told her. "But it's here or the Residence. You can't
go back to your apartment." He saw just a trickle of something, fear
he would guess, go through her expression. Somehow he didn't think
convincing her to not go back to her apartment was going to be a
problem. Again, after a moment, Donna scribbled something on the pad,
"Residence."

"Good.  Now you know I would be here if I could, but CJ and I
have....a thing....tomorrow so we can't be here to pick you up. But
the hospital won't discharge you without someone to release you to. So
I've asked Zoey to pick you up and take you back to the White House.
She'll take you in through the private entrance so you don't have to
see anyone on your way." He paused.  There would be very few people
there anyway.  They'd all be in Maryland with him and CJ.  "How does
that sound?" Donna didn't bother to write it this time, but just
nodded. But then, as an afterthought, she wrote something on the pad.
"What thing?"

He'd hoped she wouldn't ask, but it didn't surprise him that she did.
She would know his schedule and would know that he hadn't had anything
scheduled. "Just an unscheduled meeting that Leo thinks she and I
should be there for," he said, hoping that his voice sounded
convincing. "Oh, and to help keep things quiet in the press, we've had
the name changed on your hospital paperwork," he said, only half
lying. They had been changed, just not for quite that reason. "So when
you see the papers tomorrow and you've suddenly become 'Bonnie Smith'
don't worry." Trying to move away from that topic as soon as possible,
he moved onto something else. "Hey, I brought some things from your
apartment." He said, indicating the small suitcase he'd brought. "And
a familiar face," he said with a smile. Opening the suitcase he pulled
out Zane and held him up.

Donna had no idea what "familiar face" he was talking about. She also
knew that he was lying about the what the "thing" was but she couldn't
work up the interest to ask him about it. When Josh held up Zane, she
felt something stir in her heart.  Not only was it a terribly sweet
thing for him to do, she was genuinely happy to see her beloved
rabbit. Josh put it in her outstretched hand and sat down in a chair
next to her bed. The fur was soft in her hand and she rubbed him
against her cheek. Tears gathered unexpectedly in her eyes, but didn't
fall. "Thank you," she mouthed. Tucking Zane under the strap of her
sling she scribbled on the pad again. "How long can you stay?"

He smiled softly. Glad to see that at least something in her was
indeed awake in there. "I'm here until tomorrow morning, I figured I
would sack out on the other bed. I got permission from your doctor,"
he said, then paused. "'Cause you know I'm a powerful guy," he grinned
a bit, then sobered. "If you want me to stay, that is."

Donna was relieved and nodded. Now that he was here and knew what had
happened to her, she saw no pity on his face. Some concern maybe, but
mostly kindness and his usual Josh-like smile. Although she was still
feeling disjointed and disconnected, she knew that she'd felt better
since he'd been there and didn't want him to go. Reaching up, she held
her left hand out to him.

Josh was touched that, despite everything, Donna trusted him enough to
reach out to him. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  "I'm
here for you, Donna.  For anything you need," he said softly.  Donna
gave him a tiny, tiny smile, and nodded.  Her eyes began to droop and
soon they were closed and he had a feeling she wasn't faking this
time. He glanced briefly at his watch. CJ would be giving her
afternoon briefing soon.  He'd have to be sure to leave the TV off
until it was done. Donna would learn the truth soon enough.

**********

CJ stood in the hall and took a breath. This was going to have to be
the briefing of her career. Donna's life might depend on it. Opening
the door, she stepped into the Press Room and walked to the podium. "I
have a short statement to read and then I will take questions." The
room quieted and CJ began to speak.

"Shortly after 7 a.m. today, when she failed to show up for work, the
body of White House Senior Assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff,
Donnatella Moss, was found in her apartment. Although an autopsy is
currently being performed for confirmation, early reports from the
D.C. police and the FBI, who are working jointly on this case because
Donna Moss was a federal employee, are that she was strangled and
sexually assaulted sometime last night." CJ let her voice crack at
that. It wasn't hard, seeing as how it was the truth. Everything,
thank God, but the 'dead' part. "At the request of her family, there
will be a memorial service at the Bethany Covenant Chapel tomorrow and
afterward she will be buried at Lincoln Memorial Cemetery in Suitland,
Maryland. The President wishes to extend his deepest sympathies to
Miss Moss' family and friends." She paused and let her eyes scan the
room briefly. "On a personal note, I'd like to just say, I've lost an
amazing friend and a valued co-worker. She will be missed." She took a
breath and cleared her throat.  Now I'll take your questions. Yes,
Katie, then Steve, then Danny."

"CJ, who found her body?" Katie asked.

"Josh Lyman's intern, Ryan Pierce.  When Ms. Moss didn't arrive for
work, Josh sent Ryan over to check on her." Ryan knew his part if
anyone pressed him for details.

Katie tossed in a follow-up before Steve could ask his question.
"How's Josh taking it?" It was no secret that Josh was very fond of
Donna.

"Well, as you know, he relied on Donna for just about everything and
they were close friends," CJ told her. "He's handling her death about
as well as can be expected. Steve?"

"CJ, what's with the quick funeral? Doesn't it often take weeks for an
autopsy to be performed and the body released for burial?"

They'd worked this part out with Toby's help.  "It was a family
request. Her mother is of Jewish descent and in the Jewish faith it's
customary to bury someone within a short period of time. The coroner's
office was able to accommodate this need and agreed to do the autopsy
today." 'What a  flock of lies,' she thought. Donna's parents were no
more Jewish than CJ was. But it was felt by everyone in the planning
meeting that the quick funeral would provide cover to smuggle Donna
into the White House without anyone knowing.  Plus, since it had just
happened, it would be big news and at least parts of the funeral would
be televised, giving even more credence to their story that she was
dead and letting the killer think he'd succeeded. Well, in for a
penny, in for a pound. "Danny?"

The red haired reporter's face was grim. He was one of the many
reporters who was also fond of Donna. "Are there any leads on her
attacker or a motive for the attack?"

"The D.C. police and the FBI are still processing the evidence they
took from the scene and collected from her...body," her voice paused
again. She couldn't believe what she was saying. Again, the worst part
of it was how close it was to the truth. She knew the police really
had collected evidence from the scene...and from Donna. CJ took
another breath, "To my knowledge they have no leads on her attacker or
a motive. If you'd like further information on that I'm going to have
to refer you to Lieutenant Aaron Watson from the D.C. police and Agent
Mike Casper from the FBI. They're the officers in charge of the case."
Lieutenant Watson and Mike Casper were also in on the plan and he knew
what they could and could not say. In fact, most of it had been Mike's
brainchild. "Jane?" she said, indicating one of the other reporters
who'd raised her hand.

"CJ, with the accelerated time frame for her funeral, will Donna's
parents be able to attend?"

"Ah, no. They live in Wisconsin and won't be able to be here." Lies
and more lies. She'd been there when Leo had called to tell them Donna
had been attacked. He'd explained to them the real situation and the
need for secrecy. It had been a little surreal.  While they had agreed
to not say anything about knowing the truth and did seem vaguely
concerned about Donna, they hadn't asked if they could come and see
her or even where they could contact her. CJ knew that things were a
little strained between Donna and her parents but she hadn't realized
it had gone quite so far. They'd also stressed the fact that they
didn't like lying to people and Mrs. Moss, REALLY hadn't liked the
cover story about her being of Jewish decent.  It hadn't come out as
anti-Semitism so much as just plain snobbery. "Chris?"

"CJ, will the President be attending the memorial service or the funeral?"

"No.  He has a meeting he was unable to reschedule." CJ had to keep
herself from smiling. As if a meeting would keep him from going to
Donna's funeral if it were real.  Nothing short of World War III would
have kept him away. He, like many others in the White House, was very
fond of the Deputy Deputy Chief of Staff. Actually, in a show of
support and to lend credibility, he'd wanted to go to her mock funeral
as well, but the Secret Service had talked him out of it. CJ continued
without missing a beat. "The First Lady and Leo McGarry will be going
in his place and a large number of White House staffers will be
attending as well."

To Be Continued...



Chapter 7 - YTEEN



About 8 o'clock that evening, as Donna was dozing lightly and Josh was
sitting on the other bed reading a report, a knock sounded at the
closed door to Donna's room.

Josh climbed off the bed and went to the door. "Oh, hi, Mrs. Bartlet."
He held the door open as Abbey walked in.

"Hey, Josh."  Carrying what looked to be Donna's medical chart, she
headed over to Donna.  "And there's the star patient," she said,
stopping next to the bed. It was only from her many years as a doctor
that she was able to keep from wincing at the site of Donna's battered
face and bruised throat. "How are you doing, Donna?" she asked with a
smile as she slid her glasses on and flipped open the chart to study
it. She'd already spoken to Dr. Holden, so she knew what to expect,
but it was still hard to see Donna, someone she thought of as friend
if not an adopted daughter, lying in a hospital bed. She watched as
Donna scribbled something down.

"Fine, Mrs. Bartlet."

Abbey looked at her skeptically, "Yeah, okay. Well, I guess I'll have
to take your word on that one. Of course," she said, looking back down
at the chart, "It looks like you have quite a few exceptional drugs in
you so I'm sure that helps." She looked over at the other occupant in
the room who was currently sitting on the other bed watching them.
"Um, Josh," she said sweetly. "I'm feeling a little parched.  Do you
suppose you could run down to the cafeteria and hunt me up some apple
juice?" She looked at Donna for a minute then back at Josh.  "Make it
two, Donna looks parched too."

"Um, well..." he didn't know what to say. Clearly, the First Lady was
attempting to tactfully kick him out. It was usually unwise to say
'no' to Abbey Bartlet. She tended to take it badly. But he didn't want
to leave Donna alone either.  He looked at Donna for his cue.  She
nodded. "Okay, sure.  I'll just...go." He looked pointedly at Donna,
who hadn't touched her dinner. He knew it was a little hard for her to
swallow but she needed to eat something and this was a chance to get
her something else. "Can I get you anything besides the juice? Some
ice cream maybe?" He wasn't above bribing her with something sweet to
get her to eat.

Donna knew exactly what he was doing. It was still a little bit of a
challenge for her to swallow anything more than liquids, so she hadn't
eaten earlier and she knew it had bothered him.  Food had just been
the last thing on her mind, especially 'hospital' food. But to his
credit, he hadn't nagged her about it so she figured she could manage
to choke down some ice cream, if for no other reason than it would
make him happy.  She scribbled on the pad, "That would be nice."

He was happy, but a little surprised she'd agreed so easily. "You want
the usual?  Pistachio if they have it, Strawberry, if they don't?" he
asked.

For some reason Donna found it inordinately comforting that he knew
what kind of ice cream she liked.  She nodded mutely.

"Mrs. Bartlet, is there anything else you'd like?"

Donna hadn't been the only one to notice Josh knew what kind of ice
cream Donna liked and Donna hadn't been the only one a bit touched by
it, "No, thank you, Josh.  Just the juice will be fine.  Cold if they
have it, though."

"Sure. Well, I'll be back in a bit." With a last glance at Donna, he
went out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

Abbey motioned to the bed. "Do you mind if I sit?" she asked. Donna
shook her head so Abbey settled herself on the edge of it. "So now,
how are you really doing?" She looked at her assessingly. "The truth."

"About like I look," Donna wrote.

"Now that I can believe," she said. "What's that phrase Zoey's always
saying, 'death on a Triscuit'?" She smiled at Donna. Without thinking,
she reached out to brush some hair off of Donna's forehead. Abbey
didn't know which of them was more startled when Donna flinched
slightly. Abbey's hand paused in the air, just inches from Donna's
head.  She dropped her hand quickly into her lap.  "I'm sorry, Donna.
That was hopelessly thoughtless of me."

Donna couldn't believe she'd done that. Abbey was the last person to
be scared of. The flinch had come out of nowhere and had happened
without conscious thought on her part. More like instinct. Donna
started to try and speak.

"No, write it," Abbey said, pointing to the pad.

Donna scribbled. "I'm sorry. Don't know why I did that."

Abbey pulled off her reading glasses and looked at Donna for a moment.
 "Donna.  Don't be sorry. Not for that. Something really bad happened
to you last night and it will take some time for you to get over it. I
wish I could make it better for you or take it away all together, but
I can't." She paused, "But you've always struck me as a strong person.
I have faith that you'll get through this. And although I don't know
quite what you're feeling, I do know that I'm a good listener.
Remember my door is always open to you.  Okay?"

Donna nodded and tried to smile a little but it didn't get very far.
She picked up her pad. "Thank you," she wrote.

Abbey smiled, "You're welcome. Now. I understand that you'll be
staying with us for the next week or so."  Donna nodded.  "Good.
Although I'm sure that you're going to get sick of Jed and what he
laughingly refers to as his 'amusing' stories pretty quickly.  Since
you'll be unable to talk and tell him to be quiet, I'm sure he'll be
doubly irritating. So I have a little trick for you.  Just throw
things at him when he gets to be too much."

"What about the Secret Service?"

Abbey smiled, "Well, just don't throw anything big or hard at him and
you'll be okay.  I tell you what.  I'll make sure the stewards keep a
big bowl of M&Ms in your room.  You can throw those at him."

Donna actually smiled at that but instantly regretted it when pain
shot through her face, turning the smile into a grimace. Tears of
frustration gathered in her eyes, but again, did not fall. Trying not
to feel defeated, she sighed and looked up at the ceiling for a
moment.

Abbey sat there, feeling helpless and angry.  Not at Donna, but at the
animal that had done this to her. It went against every mothering
instinct she had not to gather the young woman into her arms. She
watched as Donna struggled with some of the pain and frustration of
her condition. "Donna?" After a moment, Donna looked at her.  "Can I
hold your hand?" she asked softly. Donna silently lifted her left hand
up to Abbey. She was touched by Donna's simple trust. "I know you hurt
right now.  Hurt in so many ways, not all of them physical, that you
can't process it all. You can't even smile without it hurting." She
paused and squeezed Donna's hand gently. "But give yourself some time.
 It's not going to feel better overnight but someday it will feel
better. You'll see. Someday, you'll be able to smile without it
hurting." Donna looked at Abbey for a moment, then pulled her hand
away. At first, Abbey was a little hurt by that, until she saw why.
Donna was busy scribbling on her pad.

"Promise?"

Abbey smiled, "Yes.  I promise." Pressing her index finger to her
mouth for a moment. She had an idea.  "In fact, I will make you a
deal." She enjoyed the look of curiosity in Donna's eyes. "If, by the
time we leave office, you don't think I've kept my promise, I will
make it my mission in life to fix it. If you think I have, you can buy
me lunch. Sound fair?"

Donna nodded at her and then wrote something on her pad, "I guess for
now, I'll just have to learn to smile with the left side of my face."
Abbey looked up from the pad, and there, on the left side of Donna's
mouth was just the beginning of a teasing smile.

**********

"This is so weird," Carol said as she and Margaret watched the MSNBC
telecast on the TV in CJ's office. The memorial service was just
getting out and everyone was filing into limos and cars for the drive
to the cemetery a few blocks away.

"I know," Margaret mumbled as she watched Josh and CJ get into a limo.
"If I didn't know that she was alive, I'd be convinced. CJ did a great
job with the press yesterday and she and Josh look every inch the
grieving friends." Everyone from the senior assistant level up knew
Donna was alive. So while Margaret, Carol, Ginger, Bonnie and Debbie
knew, they were, under no circumstances, supposed to let anyone else
find out. It was crucial for them to know about it, as their help
would be needed when Donna came back to work. She would be doing it
under an assumed name and with practically a new identity. Temporarily
anyway.

Carol continued to stare at the TV, "I'm not sure it's all an act,"
she said quietly as they watched the procession pull into the
cemetery. "She and Josh are pretty broken up about what happened to
Donna. CJ said it looked like Donna had been hit by a car. And they're
pretty worried about how she's going to deal with everything in the
long run. I just wish there was something we could do to help her."

Margaret looked at Carol and then back at the TV. "I guess we just
keep doing our jobs and we look out for her. Make kind of an
assistant's 'bubble' around her." They watched as the coffin was
unloaded from the car. Charlie, Toby, Josh, Ed, Larry and Ryan served
as the pall bearers and carried the coffin from the hearse to the
gravesite. It was really very creepy if Margaret let herself think
about it. "What's in the coffin anyway? The way they're carrying it,
it looks heavy." She couldn't keep the morbid question from leaving
her mouth.

"I don't know. CJ didn't say. I'm guessing sandbags or something else
that comes out at about Donna's weight. I guess they thought that if
the coffin was too light it wouldn't look real enough."

"Looks too real, if you ask me." Margaret mumbled.  "In fact it's kind
of freakin' me out. I hope Donna's not watching this.  You know they
say you always want to see your own funeral so you can hear what nice
things people have to say about you.  But after seeing this, I don't
think so. It's just weird."

Carol smiled grimly, "This is what I'm saying."

**********

Zoey walked down the corridor looking for Donna's room number. Behind
her, the Secret Service agent moved silently. She was really starting
to have a phobia about hospitals. First, after Rosslyn and then after
her kidnapping. If Donna wasn't such a good friend and Josh hadn't
asked her to do this, she wouldn't be here. She also knew that where
GW was concerned, she wasn't the only one who had a thing about it.
Turning a corner, she saw a guard standing outside a room and figured
she must have the right place. He nodded to Zoey and her agent. After
double checking to make sure it was the right room number, Zoey
knocked on the half-closed door and stepped inside.

The blinds on the window were closed so only a minimal amount of
daylight was coming in but the light over the bed was on so the room
was well lit. The TV was dark and silent and Zoey knew that Josh had
seen to it that it had been 'disabled' so Donna wouldn't accidentally
see something she shouldn't until he had a chance to talk to her this
afternoon. With no TV to watch, Donna was sitting in a chair next to
her bed, fully dressed in sweats and a summer-weight, sleeveless,
turtleneck t-shirt, reading a magazine. She put it down as Zoey came
in.  "Hi, Donna."

Donna smiled a little and waved her hand in greeting.  Zoey tried not
to wince at the site of Donna's face and her arm in a sling. It
reminded Zoey just a little too much of the way she looked after the
kidnapping. She'd even had a sling like Donna's. Hers had just been
for her broken collar bone and not, as she'd learned from Josh, to
immobilize Donna's previously dislocated elbow. Her first instinct was
to make some inane comment about how Donna looked okay or simply
ignore the topic all together, but she knew that would do neither of
them any good. So she tried to keep it simple. "How are you feeling,
Donna?"

Donna shrugged non-commitally then scribbled something on a small pad,
"Probably just like I look."

Zoey laughed humorlessly, "Yeah, I know what that feels like."

Donna looked at her a moment.  "Guess you would have some idea. I'm
ready to leave. Waiting on doctor."

"Yeah, they always take their own sweet time, don't they?" Zoey said,
pulling up a chair. A short pause fell between them and Zoey felt the
need to fill it. "Donna, I know you've probably heard this about six
hundred times already, probably mostly from my mom, CJ and Josh. But
I'm really sorry about what happened to you and if there's anything I
can do or you just want someone to talk to...well, I'm available. I
know not all our injuries were the same."

She just couldn't bring herself to say the word 'raped.' That was
something that had haunted her dreams since the kidnapping.  The
possibility that it might have been the next thing that would have
happened to her if she hadn't been found. "But...um, I'm a good
listener." Donna nodded at her with a slightly tired smile. Zoey
smiled back at her, "So who's your friend?" she asked referring to the
gray bundle tucked under the strap of Donna's sling.

Donna started scribbling again. "Zane. Josh brought him from my apartment."

"OH! That reminds me.  I have a present from Josh for you," Zoey said,
pulling a plain, white, medium sized box out of her purse.  "He said
to tell you that he would explain when he sees you this afternoon."

Donna frowned slightly as she took the box from Zoey. What could Josh
have sent her?  He didn't mention anything before he'd left earlier
that morning. Pulling open the lid of the box she looked inside. It
was a phone. Well, calling it a 'phone' didn't seem to quite cover
what it was.  It looked almost like a small computer.  There was even
a miniature keyboard on the bottom of it. She pulled it and the
dictionary sized instruction manual out of the box. Setting them in
her lap, she picked up the pad and wrote something down.

"Do you mind if I play with it while we wait?" She held up the pad for
Zoey, just the tiniest hint of an excited smile, playing across her
eyes.

Zoey grinned back, "Not if you give me your magazine to read."

Donna nodded and pulled the magazine out and handed it to her. Then
she turned her attention back to phone/PDA and started reading through
the manual. From what she could see, it was truly a marvel and she
couldn't wait to start fiddling with it.  Of course, just as she
flicked on the power button and found that it had already been charged
and was ready to go, the doctor picked that moment to arrive. So she
shut it back down and put everything back in the box.

"Good morning, Donna," Dr. Holden said.  "I'm sorry I'm late. I had a
case come into the ER and I was delayed. How are you doing this
morning?"

Donna scribbled on the pad, she still HATED writing with her left
hand. It felt SO awkward. "Ready to leave."

Dr. Holden smiled, "Yeah, I bet you are.  Let me just check a few
things, and we'll see what we can do about getting you discharged."
She checked Donna's vital signs, her pupil responses and gently pulled
down the collar on her shirt so she could see Donna's neck, then she
used a tongue depressor to look in her throat. "Well, the swelling in
your neck looks better and around your eye it looks like it's almost
gone. How's your head feeling today? Any blurred vision or severe
headaches?"

More scribbling, "No blurred vision. Mild headache this morning.  Took
Tylenol, feel better."

"Good.  Glad to hear it. Now, as for your prescriptions. There are
quite a number of them. For a little while you're going to think YOU
ARE the pharmacy, but I need to stress that each one is very important
and you need to take them as instructed." She paused. "I've called
them into the pharmacy and when I spoke with Dr. Bartlet, she told me
she'd arranged to have them sent over to you this afternoon. Each one
will have instructions and she'll go through them individually with
you. If you have any problems, let her know or you can give me a call.
I've given her my cell number so you can reach me any time. Also
remember to take them with food.  They may make you a little nauseous
but it will be worse if you don't eat when you take them."

Donna was relieved. She was tired of taking 18 different kinds of
medication, but even more than that, she was tired of HEARING about
how she was going to have to CONTINUE to take 18 different kinds of
medication. Of course, that all flashed through her head while she sat
placidly in the chair and nodded understandingly. 'Anything that will
get me out of here,' she thought. Right then she would have agreed to
shave her head and go into business with Debbie to raise alpacas if it
would get her a discharge from the hospital.

"Dr. Bartlet also said she would see to it that the dressing on your
hip was changed. I don't think you'll have any more vaginal bleeding,
maybe a little spotting, but if you start bleeding any heavier than
that in the next week or you have any severe pain in the area, I want
to you tell Dr. Bartlet or call me." She paused, trying to choose her
next words carefully and put them as gently as possible. "I don't
suppose it will be an issue but because of your internal injuries,
there should be no sexual activity for at least the next two months
and the same goes for using tampons." She waited a moment to let that
settle.

"The sling should stay on for about two weeks and then be easy on your
arm for the week or so after.  No heavy lifting of any kind for at
least two months. Understand? A week of bed rest is my most important
prescription. And it would be a good idea if you scheduled a follow-up
appointment with your own doctor in the next month or so." She smiled
reassuringly. "Well, I guess I'll have to kick you out of here. We
need beds for people who are really sick."

"Okay," Dr. Holden said, apparently satisfied her patient was ready to
go.  She signed a couple of things on Donna's chart. "I'll send
someone up with a wheelchair. Hospital policy, you know, we don't let
you out of here until you've ridden in our custom-made chariots," she
said with a smile. "Take care," she said as she turned and left the
room.

Donna only looked at Zoey. "Aren't doctors a pain?" Zoey said. "Either
they don't tell you anything or they talk so much your head wants to
explode. Oh, just promise not to tell my Mom I said that." Donna
nodded and smiled slightly at that as a young, fresh-faced candy
striper entered the room with a wheelchair.

**********

"Well?  What do you think?" Zoey asked her.

Donna looked around the room. It looked like something out of Colonial
Architectural Digest. Beautifully, perfectly decorated and yet with a
touch of hominess that kept it from being a museum. It had a private
bath, a double bed and a small sitting area with a couch, a coffee
table, a couple of stylish but serviceable chairs and small table that
could also be used as a desk or to eat on.  Even without a kitchen, it
was nicer and bigger than her apartment.  She frowned at the thought
of her apartment. She couldn't stay here forever. What was she going
to do when they kicked her out of the Residence? The thought of going
back to her apartment filled her with an unreasonable dread that she
didn't want to examine at the moment.

Watching the small frown play over Donna's face, Zoey wondered what
was behind it. She'd already given her a quick tour of the Residence,
although Donna had already known where most everything, like the
kitchen, was from the 'chili nights' and other occasions the First
Family had held for the staff. "I told Mom to give you this room; next
to mine, it's my favorite.  It gets a lot of morning light."

"Thanks. It's very nice." Donna wrote. A flash of color caught her eye
and she looked over on the small coffee table. There sat a large bowl
of multi-colored M&Ms.  She smiled lopsidedly. Mrs. Bartlet had been
true to her word.

"Oh, I see they brought up your bags," Zoey said, missing Donna's half
smile as she indicated the small green case and Donna's purse, which
were sitting on the chest at the end of the bed. Josh had delivered
the purse when he'd come by the hospital the night before. Zoey sensed
that Donna wanted to get settled into her room so she tried to bow out
gracefully, "Well, you're probably tired and want to unpack so I'm
going to go. I'm sure Mom will be along to check on you when she gets
done with her...thing. Do you need anything before I do?"

'Everyone seemed to have a "thing" today,' Donna thought. Wasn't that
interesting? The idea lingered in the back of her tired mind for a
moment then faded.  Like a long list of other things, she'd think
about it later. In response to Zoey's question, Donna shook her head
and started scribbling again, "Thank you, Zoey.  For everything.
You've been really kind."

Zoey smiled back, "You're welcome.  Look, Donna, if you need
anything...."  Donna nodded and moved over to her suitcase.  "Okay,
well, I'll see you later then." Zoey opened the bedroom door and went
out into the hall, closing it softly behind her. She stood there for a
moment, trying to decide if she should act on what she was thinking.
With a nod, she decided to see her mother when she got back from...the
thing and then go and see Josh.

**********

Josh stood behind his desk, trying to decide where to start. He
couldn't seem to find much motivation to do anything. Sitting down in
his chair, he swiveled around to face the window. They'd just gotten
back from the 'funeral' and he was still having a little bit of
trouble taking it all in.  Donna raped, assaulted and almost killed by
a madman. He just couldn't get his mind around that. And he'd just
gone to her mock funeral which had been surreal to say the least.

On the one hand, it had nearly ripped him in two to think how close
the killer had come to succeeding, thereby making the funeral a
necessity rather than a ploy. But on the other hand he wanted to stand
up and shout at the assembled crowed and every television camera and
press tape recorder that had been present how HAPPY he was that the
killer HAD failed. To tell them how fall-on-his-knees thankful that
she was still alive. Tell them and HER just how much he loved her and
apologize that it had taken something like this to get him to
acknowledge it. Again, it had been a surreal experience all the way
around. Look broken, be broken, Look broken, be happy.

From Leo, he knew that Zoey and Donna had arrived at the White House
on time and had gotten into the Residence without any problems. That
was something at least. He was going to go and check on her in a few
minutes. See if she needed anything and if she liked the phone. Then
of course, came the hard part.  He had to tell her she was 'dead.'
Just exactly how did you tell someone that?  Tiredly, he ran his hands
over his face.

Giving up on the idea of doing any work, he made his way up to the
Residence. He met Zoey coming down the hall near the President's
private study. "Hey, Zoey."

"Hi, Josh. I just got done talking to my Mom and I was just coming to
see you," she said as they stopped in the hall to talk.

"Why?" he asked her.  "Is everything okay?  Did you get Donna all settled?"

"Yeah. I think she's doing as well as can be expected.  It's a little
weird not having her speak though and she never smiles.  Of course,
with her face being like it is I'm sure it hurts to smile. But there
are also times when she just looks...blank."

"I know," he said with a sigh.

Then Zoey grinned a bit, "But I have to tell you. The phone you had me
give her was a big hit.  You should have seen the way her eyes lit up.
I wouldn't be surprised if she was in her room playing with it right
now. Good job."

He grinned back at her, "Really? She liked it?"

Zoey nodded. "I'm telling you.  From what I could see she loved it."

"Okay, I'm going to go check on her," he said with an excited smile on
his face. "Which room is she in?"

"Take a left at the next hall and it's the third door on the right,"
Zoey told him.

"Okay. Hey, thanks for picking her up at the hospital." They started
to down the hall in separate directions, but after only a couple of
steps he stopped and turned.  "Zoey?" She turned and looked down the
hall at him.  "And thanks for letting me know how she was doing."

Zoey smiled, "She's my friend too, Josh.  I was glad I could be there
for her. Now, go check on her already." She waved her hands to shoo
him along. Feeling her mission was accomplished, she turned and walked
away.

Josh nearly bounced down the hall.  She'd liked the phone.  Well,
according to Zoey, she'd LOVED the phone. It made him feel 10 feet
tall to know he'd done something to bring her a little moment of
happiness. Turning left at the next hall, he made his way down to the
third door on the right. The door was closed and everything seemed
quiet. He knocked softly on the door. "Donna?" he said, quietly.
Receiving no answer, he slowly opened the door.

Everything was quiet as he poked his head inside and he wondered if he
had the wrong room. Then he saw her. She was laying on the couch by
the window. Softly closing the door he walked over to her and watched
her for a moment. The afternoon sun was falling gently across her
battered face.  Her breathing was even and regular and he was certain
that she was indeed asleep. And even in her current condition, she was
the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He had to smile when he saw what she'd been doing when she fell
asleep. Going over the new cell phone. While the phone itself was
clutched in her left hand, the huge owner's manual rested in her lap.
He stood there for a moment, debating whether or not she wake her.
There were a lot of things they needed to talk about. A lot of things
she needed to know. But whether it was because he was procrastinating
or he honestly thought she needed sleep, he just couldn't do it.  He
WOULD tell her and he would do it today but not in this moment. Leo,
CJ and Toby had all offered to tell her instead but Josh knew he owed
it to her tell her himself, so he'd politely refused and told them no.

Debating whether he should try and move her onto the bed or leave her
on the couch, he decided to leave her on the couch.  She seemed
comfortable enough and didn't want to risk waking her. Setting the
manual aside on the coffee table he reached for a light blanket on a
nearby chair. He spread it out and laid it over her gently. She
shifted a little, snuggling down farther into the couch and sighing
ever so slightly.

Josh wanted to savor the moment like a treasure he might keep in his
pocket.  He knew that all too soon, he would be the one to bring the
realities of the world crashing down on her and there was absolutely
no way he could avoid it.

To Be Continued....



Chapter 8 - MATURE



A little while later, after he'd left Donna sleeping peacefully on the
couch, Josh was settled at his desk again. He was having about the
same amount of luck trying to start working on something as he'd had
earlier. Just then, his desk phone started ringing. It was his direct
line, not the one that rang out at Donna's desk. Ryan, to his credit,
had been answering that one all day.  Josh picked up the receiver.
"Josh Lyman," he said.

"How could you?" the voice said. "How could you not fucking tell me
before I saw her funeral on live TV?"

Josh exhaled and ran his hand over his face again.  He'd called his
mom to warn her about Donna but it just hadn't occurred to him to make
this call.  "God, Sam. I'm sorry.  Things have been crazy here." That
was an understatement.

"Screw that," Sam said. "Someone should have called me.  YOU should
have called me." Josh could hear the sharp edge of grief in Sam's
voice.

"Sam, I..."

"She was my friend too." There were tears in his voice now. "I loved
her like a sister."

"Sam, I can explain, I swear. Just a second, I need to close the door.
Please, don't hang up," he begged Sam.  "Wait. Wait, just a second."
Josh set the phone down on the desk, practically leapt across the room
and slammed the door. Snatching the phone back up, he hoped Sam was
still there.  "Sam?"

"There's nothing you can say that will make this all right.  Or make
me forgive you."

Josh winced at the anger in Sam's voice. Because of his good nature,
it took a lot to make Sam honestly mad. But when he was, you prayed it
wasn't directed at you. Deciding the best thing to do was just say it,
he blurted out the words, "She's not dead."

A black hole silence came from the other end of the phone.
"What...what did you just say?"

"She not dead, Sam. She's upstairs in Residence asleep."

Sam let out a huge breath. "Oh, thank God." He paused and even over
the phone, it was clear he was having a hard time trying to process
this new information. You could almost hear the wheels turning. "But
wait....on TV...they said. Josh..I saw...I saw you carrying her
casket."

"Yeah.  It's kind of a long story. I should have called you. You are
absolutely right. I have no excuse other than the fact that I've been
trying to keep things together here and it simply didn't occur to me."

"So it's not true?  Josh, why in God's name would you let the press
say she'd been sexually assaulted and strangled if it wasn't true?"

"It is true," Josh replied.

"What? But you just said she wasn't dead."

"She's not."

"Okay.  You need to stop talking in riddles and tell me what the hell
is going on," Sam said.

"Sam. Donna was sexually assaulted and NEARLY strangled to death in
her apartment last night."

"Oh, my God."

It all came flooding out of Josh. "The guy that did it called me from
her cell phone, which he stole out of her apartment, along with her
White House ID. He thinks he did kill her. Ron Butterfield, Mike
Casper and the D.C. police decided it was probably a good idea if we
let him go on thinking that. It'll be safer for Donna. We're stashing
her in the Residence until she's better and we can temporarily get her
a new identity until they catch him." He paused, "Which will be a neat
trick since except for the evidence they collected they don't really
have any leads."

"How is she?" Sam asked.

Josh sighed and rubbed his eyes. "It's bad, Sam. She spent the last 24
hours in the hospital. He raped her. Dislocated her right elbow. Gave
her a concussion and put so many bruises on the right side of her face
you can't tell where one stops and the next starts. Then he tried to
strangled her with his bare hands." Josh was trying to keep his
breathing even but he wasn't succeeding very well. "Her vocal cords
are inflamed so she can't talk and there's these huge hand prints on
her neck...." he trailed off.  "She's not doing so good right now.
Physically she's going to be okay but emotionally I think it's going
to take some time." He decided not to tell him about the burn on her
hip or the damage from the gun. It was bad enough those images lived
in his own head, he wasn't going to pass them on to anyone else.
Besides, it was a small way he could protect Donna's privacy.

"Is there anything I can do? Do you want me to come back there? Does
she need legal counsel for anything?"

Josh smiled slightly.  He'd missed Sam a lot.  Missed his humor and
his stability.  Sam was always the one you went to when push came to
shove.  He'd never let you down.  Even from California, where he'd
opened his own law firm, he was still trying to help. "No, we're set
for right now. I just....I can't help her. I don't know how. I mean I
can kind of relate because of some of the stuff from Rosslyn but most
of it I have absolutely no frame of reference. I even have to be
careful how I touch her so I don't startle her. I don't know how much
of the attack she remembers but she gets this blankness in her eyes
that scares me. As if she's slipping away and there's nothing I can do
to stop it."

"Just give her some time, Josh. And be there for her when she needs
you." He paused. "Look I'm sorry I tore into you, I just saw the
funeral and lost it."

"No, Sam I totally understand," Josh told him. "I would have done the
same thing. I'm sorry I didn't think to tell you. Oh, you know you
can't tell anyone about her..."

"Yeah, I know.  Don't worry." Sam paused. "Josh if you need someone to
talk to, I'm here for you, man."

"Thanks, Sam.  I may need to take you up on that. Take it easy."

"You too, Josh. I'll talk to you later."

They hung up and Josh leaned back in his chair. A knock sounded on his
door.  "Come in!" he called.

The door swung open and CJ put her head in. "You got a minute?"

"Sure. Come on in," he told her. "I just got off the phone with Sam."

"I hadn't even thought to call, Sam," CJ said as she closed the door behind her.

"Yeah, join the club."

CJ sat down in one of his visitor chairs. "So was he really mad?"

"Oh, no. He wasn't mad at all.  Just livid," he looked at CJ. "If
you'd seen Donna's funeral on MSNBC and we'd neglected to mention to
you the fact that she was dead, wouldn't you have been just a tad
upset?" It had come out with just a little more force than he'd
planned.

CJ watched him for a minute, "Yeah, I guess I would at that."

Josh sighed, "I'm sorry, CJ. As you know, it's been a shitty last
couple of days. I shouldn't take it out on you."

"That's all right, just as long as I get to do the same to you once in
a while." She paused.  "And we both need to remember that no matter
how shitty it's been for us, it's been a thousand times worse for
Donna." A silence settled between them as they both considered that.

"Yeah.  Yeah, I know," He said leaning back in his chair. "So what did
you need?"

"Oh, I just wanted to ask you how she was doing. Have you seen her
since they released her from the hospital?" CJ asked him.

"Zoey said she did okay getting out of the hospital and settled in her
room but she still blanking out a bit. I went up to check on her but
she was asleep." He paused and smiled slightly as he remembered her
gripping the phone as she slept.

"What?" CJ said, seeing the smile.

"Oh, nothing," he said. At her questioning look he told her. "Okay,
see, after they confiscated my phone I had to get a new one. So I was
down in purchasing picking one up yesterday and I ended up getting one
for Donna, too."

"Josh, what's Donna going to do with a phone?  She can't talk, remember?"

"I know, but the one I got is also a PDA. See?" He pulled his out and
showed it to her. "Not only does it have text messaging and a built in
keyboard but it has a electronic note pad so she can write on it or
type messages into it."

CJ smiled softly and handed it back to him. "I've said it before and
I'll say it again.  You really are very sweet sometimes."

"Plus, the bastard took hers, so once she's able to talk again she'll
need a phone anyway."

"Yeah," CJ said quietly.  "So why were you smiling earlier?"

"Oh, when I went up there to check on her she was asleep on the couch
in her room, the owners manual was in her lap and the phone was
clutched in her hand. Obviously she'd been playing with it when she
fell asleep." He paused a moment, remembering how she'd looked on the
couch. Giving himself a mental shake he looked back at her. "Um, CJ.
I need your help with something."

"Sure, Josh.  What is it?"

"Tonight, I'm going up to have dinner with Donna and afterwards I'm
going to talk to her about...things. One thing I want to talk to her
about is getting a new apartment. Even if she wanted to go back to her
apartment, which I don't think she does, she can't, you know, being
dead and all. Would you have time to help me find her a new place?"

"Sure. When do you want to start looking?"

"I'll need to clear it with Leo, but I'd like to start tomorrow
afternoon. I'd like to start looking in Georgetown. It will be close
to me and close to the White House and a much better neighborhood than
the one she was in."

"But Josh, she can't afford to live in Georgetown.  If she could,
don't you think she would have been living there already?" CJ replied.

"Yeah, I thought about that. I figure if we find the right place, I
may be able to work something out with the landlord."

CJ looked skeptical, "Like what?"

Josh sighed, "Like letting me pay half the rent without her knowing."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with the guy that normally
sits in that chair?"

"What?" Josh replied, baffled.

"You've gone all....you know, nice and sweet about everything all of a
sudden. It's so unlike you," she said with just a slight smile.

"Thanks a bunch, CJ. You know, one minute you say I'm sweet and nice
and then you turn around and say I'm not. How can I be both?"

"I don't know, Josh, but somehow you manage it. Look, you know very
well what I mean." She paused. She knew the answer to her question
already but decided to ask it anyway and see what he said. "So what's
up?  Why the Mr. Nice Guy routine?"

"CJ, it's Donna.  I'm always nice to Donna." He paused. "Okay, so I'm
not ALWAYS nice to Donna but she's my best friend, CJ, and she needs
me.  Usually I'm the one who needs her.  Usually I'm the one who's
pissed someone off or is having a nutty about something. And she's
always there to pick up the pieces.  She's the strong one. Now it's my
turn to be there for her."

CJ sat there for a minute.  It wasn't quite the answer she was
thinking of but it was close enough. She wondered if he'd admitted to
himself that what he felt for Donna went beyond friendship. It was
fairly obvious to the rest of them that was the case. Almost as
obvious as Donna's feelings for him. Deciding to poke at it a
different way, she said the next thing on her mind. "Since this
apartment will eventually be the home of your "new" assistant, if the
press found out about you paying half of the rent it could
be...sticky. For the White House and for her."

"Well, at this point I'd say screw the press, but if they start
digging they could find out that Donna's alive and then she would be
the one it hurt." He thought for a minute.  "I guess I'll just have to
be a little more covert about it.  I bet Sam could help with that."
'Yes, Sam,' he thought. 'Sam could set up a little dummy corporation
or something that would pay half the rent every month and no one would
know that he was the one fronting the money for it.'

CJ still wasn't getting the answer she was looking for but that was
not unexpected. Mentally she gave a sigh. Was he ever going to pull
his head out of his ass? Maybe it was time to give him a kick. Donna
was going to need him to get through this. And she was going to need
him to be honest with Donna and with himself if he was going to be any
help to her.  "Josh? Have you ever considered that you're doing this
for her out of more than just friendship?"

"What do you mean?" he said, not understanding where she was going with this.

God, he wasn't going to make this easy. She could see, she was just
going to have to say it. "I mean you know you're in love with her,
right?"

His first thought was to deny it. But he'd denied it, even to himself,
for too long and if there was anyone, other than Donna, that he should
tell, it was CJ. "Yeah, I know," he said quietly.

Well, that had not been what she'd expected.  "You know?" she asked.
"How? WHEN? Does she know you know?"

Josh sighed. Why did it just feel like he'd opened up a whole can of
worms? "CJ..." He saw her expression and knew that she was going to
want an answer.  "I think I've loved her for a while now but just
didn't want to see it. Almost losing her made me realize it. And no,
of course, she doesn't know. I also don't plan to tell her anytime in
the near future."

"But why?" CJ asked. "It might be just the thing she needs to get her
through this."

"Because it could also be the thing that KEEPS her from getting
through this. She needs a friend right now, not a 'boyfriend.' There
will be time for us, CJ.  I'm not going to let her go.  When she's
healed from this and ready I'll tell her, and not before."

CJ looked at him for a moment. 'Wow, he really did love Donna,' CJ
thought. A lot of guys would have used this chance to worm their way
into someone's life. But Josh was putting Donna first. Josh was one of
her best friends, but he was also one of the most arrogant,
self-absorbed people she knew. She hadn't realized he had it in him to
be so selfless.

She smiled. "Okay, well, just let me know what time you want to leave
tomorrow and we'll go find Donna a new place."

**********

Josh walked down the hall towards Donna's room, he wanted to see her
and yet he was dreading it. There was no way he could avoid doing what
he had to do, saying what he had to say. The only thing he could do
was make it as easy as possible for her and hope she didn't hate him
when all was said and done.

The door to her room was opened and he heard someone speaking.
Knocking on the open door, he stepped inside. Zoey and Donna were
sitting on the couch. Zoey's voice was the one he heard. Donna was
holding up the phone, obviously something was written on the display,
presumably in response to something Zoey had said.

"Hi guys," Josh said, walking over to the couch.

"Hey Josh," Zoey said.

Donna typed something into her phone and held it up,  "Hi, Josh.
Thanks for the phone.  It's great."

Josh smiled, happy that she liked his present. "I see you're already
learning to use it.  So far I've only learned to turn mine on."

Donna typed something, "You have one, too?"

"Yeah," he pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her. "I got
them at the same time."

She looked it at a moment and handed it back to him. "But we both
already have cell phones.  Why did we need new ones?" Donna typed.

Josh was silent for a moment. He thought about trying to lie to her
but he'd have to tell her the truth anyway. A lie now would only make
the truth harder. "Yeah, I need to talk to you about that."

She typed, "Did you lose your phone again?

"Something like that," he replied.  He also didn't want them to
discuss things in front of anyone else. Not even Zoey.

"So, Josh do you play a musical instrument?" Zoey asked him.

The abrupt change of subject kind of threw him.  "Um...what?"

"Do you play a musical instrument?  See Donna plays the flute and I
play the guitar and we thought we could form a band," Zoey explained
with a grin, which told him she was teasing him.

"No. Sorry. I wasn't really much for piano lessons or band.  I was
more the debate and speech kind of guy."

Donna patted Zoey on the shoulder and held up her phone. Zoey started
laughing. "So Josh, you want to be our front man?"

"Front man?" he asked.

Zoey grinned, "Yeah, front man.  Lead singer.  Donna said you have a
REAL interesting singing voice."

Josh looked at Donna and saw just the hint of a smile in her eyes.
"Oh, yeah.  I'm a regular Steven Tyler. Just with smaller lips."

Just then there was a clattering in the hallway. "Dinner's here,"
Abbey said as she followed the steward into the room.  The steward
pushed the cart over the to small dining table and started to set up
dinner. "Hi guys.  Donna, I brought dinner for you and Josh. Zoey,
sorry you have to have dinner with your father and me."

"Did I hear someone mention me?" The President said as he breezed into the room.

"Good evening, sir." Josh said. He turned back to Donna and frowned.
Her whole body language had begun to change.  She seemed to be trying
to make herself one with the couch cushions and she'd turned the
bruised side of her face away. Josh had a feeling it was a combination
of the fairly large number of people in the room and her not wanting
people to see her in her presently battered condition.

"Hey, guys. Donna and Josh and I were just talking about starting our
own band," Zoey told her parents. "We thought we could call it the '3
Victims.'" Although Zoey meant it as a joke, no one laughed.

Jed's expression had grown serious, "Is that what you think we see
when we see the three of you? Victims? You couldn't be more wrong,
Zoey.  When we look at you we don't see three victims.  We see three
survivors."

Zoey saw the frown on her father's face and instantly sorry for the
remark. "I know, Dad. I'm sorry. I guess I need to work on my humor,"
she said, her voice soft.

Concerned with Donna, Josh walked over and sat down in the chair
closest to her end of the couch. "Donna," he said softly. "You okay?"
He saw her breathing was getting a little fast.

Quickly, she typed something into the phone, "Too many people."

Josh went right into action. "Um, everyone," he said, standing up. "Do
you mind if Donna and I have a little time alone? We have some things
to talk about."

Abbey, being a doctor, caught the panicked look on Donna's face and
could see her fast respiration. "Sure, Josh. Come on, Jed and Zoey.
Let's get some dinner of our own. Jeff," she said to the steward.
"Just leave the cart there. They can finish setting things up." She
quickly ushered everyone out including a confused looking Jed. "Take
care of her," Abbey mouthed as she moved to pull the door shut behind
them.

And then the room was quiet and it was just the two of them. Donna had
opened the window and was breathing in the warm, fresh, late afternoon
air.

"Donna?" he asked gently.  "Can I sit down?"

Without turning her face away from the breeze, she nodded.  He sat
down near her on the couch but left some room between them so she
wouldn't feel crowded.

The ends of her hair danced in the light breeze.  Josh reached out to
touch them. He didn't even know why. As he did, the wind shifted,
pulling the fine blonde strands away.  If that wasn't a metaphor for
their relationship he didn't know what was.

To Be Continued...



Chapter 9 - YTEEN



Donna felt the panic begin to subside. The breeze had begun to warm
the cold icy knot that had formed in her stomach. After a few minutes,
she turned to Josh, who was waiting patiently beside her on the couch.
 Picking up the phone she began to type, "Sorry. Just felt a
little...you know."

Josh nodded, "Yeah, I know exactly. How you doin' now?"

"Better. Good," she typed.

"Great. Glad to hear it.  Now how about we see what Abbey had brought
up for us to eat?" he said, rising off the couch and walking over to
the table. "I don't know about you but I'm starving."

Donna really wasn't that hungry but at least swallowing wasn't quite
as much of a challenge, so she figured she'd eat something to make him
happy. Besides, it was time to play another round of "Let's Take Our
Medication" and eating would be a bonus. Closing the window, she stood
and walked over to the dresser where Abbey had set out everything.
She'd come up just before Zoey to explain each of the prescriptions,
what they did, and when she had to take them. Of course, Donna's head
had been swimming by the time Abbey had finished.

Two kinds of anti-biotics, pain medication, anti-viral drugs to
prevent HIV and Hepatitis, anti-inflammatory drugs to help her throat,
and a sedative to help her sleep. There was even a topical cream for
the burn on her hip. A burn which she hadn't even seen yet. She still
couldn't figure out how she'd burned her hip.  The nurses had always
seems overly careful about changing the bandage so she wouldn't see
it. They must have thought she was squeamish about things like that.
Which was silly really. She'd gotten over being squeamish about
anything like that when she'd helped take care of Josh after Rosslyn.
Tonight when Mrs. Bartlet changed the bandage, Donna would ask to see
it.  After all, how bad could it be?

Because there were so many medications, Abbey had color coded each
one. A colored dot on each of the containers told Donna when she had
to take them. A corresponding chart explained what each dot meant. Red
she took at breakfast. Blue at lunch. Yellow at dinner.  Purple before
bed. Black as needed. Black was her pain meds and the pills to help
her sleep, if she needed them.  So far sleeping hadn't been a problem.
She seemed a bit sleepy all the time.  Many of the bottles had more
than one dot because she had to take them many times throughout the
day.

She pulled a pill out of each of the containers marked with a yellow
"dinner" dot and dumped them all into a small cup Abbey had given her
for just that purpose.

"What are you doing?" Josh said walking over to her.

She put the lid on the last container she needed and shook it for him.

"Ah yes.  Medication time.  I remember those days."

Picking up her cup she followed Josh back over to the table and looked
over the dinner Abbey had arranged for them. Cream of Broccoli soup,
Donna's favorite, Shepherd's Pie for the main course, and custard for
dessert.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" Josh said. Donna nodded, "Oh, and madam, we
have your seat right here," he said, pulling the chair out for her.
She settled herself in the chair and with a flourish, he covered her
lap with the napkin. Then he set a bowl of the warm, fragrant soup in
front of each of them. Then, pulling the cart closer so they reach it
to pull off other parts of dinner, he sat down in the chair opposite
to her, again leaving some room so she didn't feel crowded. Using a
large glass of water he'd gotten for her she took all her medication
and they started to eat.

They ate in relative silence.  Since she only had one working hand,
Donna could basically eat or 'talk' and since she'd hardly been eating
anything, Josh thought eating was slightly higher on the priority
scale. However, he did tell her about his mother and how she was
doing.  About the new cooking class she was taking and the trip she
and her friends were going to take to New Orleans next month. He'd
also told her Sam had called and sent greetings from California. Well,
after all it wasn't a total lie. He had said something to that affect
after he stopped yelling.

Donna listened to the sound of his voice as she quietly ate all her
soup and about a third of the serving of Shepherd's Pie he'd given
her. His voice, when he wasn't bellowing at her, was something she'd
always found soothing.  The food was wonderful, especially the soup,
but her heart really wasn't into eating.  She was doing it more
because she knew Josh and Abbey wanted it than because she did. Like
everything else, it was just such an effort. And as the meal wore on
and Josh tried to make small talk, she began to sense that he hadn't
been joking when he'd told her earlier that he had something he needed
to talk to her about. And somehow, she didn't think it was the only
reason why they'd both needed new cell phones. Her stomach began to
flutter a little nervously as she finished.  She had a feeling the big
discussion was going to be coming after dessert.

Josh thought it was good to see her regaining at least some of her
appetite but as she finished her dessert, he knew that their
discussion couldn't be put off any longer.  "Donna?" he said when
she'd finished the last of the custard. She raised her eyebrows in
question as she wiped her mouth on her napkin, careful not to bump the
right side of her mouth.  "Are you all done?"  she nodded
affirmatively. "Why don't we go sit on the couch? It will be more
comfortable."

Somehow Donna didn't think that where they were sitting was going to
make all that much difference in making her feel better about whatever
Josh had to say, but she humored him. She watched as he settled
himself next to her on the couch, again, not right next to her but
close enough he could reach out and touch her if he wanted, or she
him. She'd known him long enough to know that whatever he had to say,
he didn't want to say, and he was very uncomfortable about saying it,
but was trying to hide it. "Josh?  What is it?" she typed. "What's
wrong?"

'There's was just no good way to say this,' he thought. "Donna, do you
remember yesterday when I said that some things were going to happen
that you might not like but that they were being done because we all
cared about you?"

Donna had some vague recollection of that conversation so she nodded.

"Well, that's a big part of what I need to talk to you about.
See...um...okay." Boy, was he blowing this.

"Take a deep breath, Josh. It's okay," Donna typed.

Josh inhaled and let it out slowly. It didn't help at all. "Donna? How
much of the attack do you remember?" He didn't think anyone had asked
her that yet. The police and the FBI had fought it out to see who
would interview her and the FBI had won. Because he knew Donna and it
was thought she would feel more comfortable talking to him, Mike
Casper would be taking her statement. But Josh had pulled first his
friend card and then his White House card to put Mike off a couple of
days. But that wouldn't last and he would need to talk to her at some
point, even if she did have to write or type everything out. And she
wouldn't be the only one giving a statement.  Even though the FBI had
the tape that the Secret Service had made of the call, they would
still need to talk to Josh about the rest of the conversation.

Donna began typing.  Even in the short time she'd had it, she'd gotten
very fast with the phone.  "Nothing."

That surprised him. "Nothing?" She shook her head.  "What do you
remember of that day?"

"I remember working late with you. I remember going home," she typed.
"I remember I forgot my purse at work and was annoyed about it."

"And then?" he asked.

"Nothing. I don't remember anything after that until I woke up the
next morning. But even that's a little fuzzy."

Josh took a minute to think about that.  If she really didn't remember
that could be a blessing in disguise. Well, not for finding the maniac
that did this to her, but for her not having to remember the attack.
But that thought was clouded by the fact that he was going to have to
give her at least some of the details, whether he wanted to or not. It
couldn't be helped.

He took a breath. "Okay, let me just back up a minute.  You know how
you asked me if I lost my cell phone?"  Donna nodded so he continued.
"Well, I didn't lose it.  Ron Butterfield and the FBI confiscated it."

Donna frowned and typed, "Why?"

He watched her for a moment. "They took it because someone stole yours
and called mine using yours and so they needed mine as evidence and to
track the call in case he calls again."

"Someone stole my phone? But the last I remember, I had my phone with
me. I would have had it with me last night...the other night,
whatever. I remember because I realized I forgot my purse but still
had my phone." Donna tried not to make the connection her brain was
beginning to put together.

"Yes, Donna. Someone stole it out of your apartment." He paused.  "It
was the same guy that attacked you."

Donna was stunned, she didn't know what to say.

"He also stole your White House ID badge. But don't worry, we'll get
you a new one." He paused again to make sure he wasn't rushing her or
overwhelming her with too much information too quickly. "Yesterday,
when I stopped by your apartment for some clothes and stuff he called
me from your cell phone."

"Why did he call you?" she typed. A sense of fear and dread of this
conversation, was beginning to build in her.

Josh sighed.  "He said he called because he wanted, no needed to tell
someone what he'd done and because I knew you he wanted to make me
understand why he'd done it.  He called me specifically because I was
the first one programmed into your cell phone's address book." He
paused again.  "He thinks he killed you, Donna. He thinks you're
dead."

The dawning horror of it washed over her and she raised a hand to her
throat and tried hard to maintain some kind of composure. She was
supposed to be dead.  He thought she was dead.

Josh could see the panic and the horror in her eyes.  "Donna.  Donna,
it's okay." He wanted so badly to touch her, to hold her, and let her
know he was right there. But he was afraid it would do more harm than
good at that point. Moving slowly so as not to startle her, he opened
the window as she'd done earlier, to let in some of the early evening
air. "Donna, take some deep breaths."

Somehow she heard him and was able to breathe the warm air back into
her lungs. With each breath the panic ebbed a bit until things seemed
to settle just a bit.  "He thought he'd killed me?" she typed.

Relieved to see her calmer now, he nodded. "Yeah. That's why you have
the marks on your neck. He thought he'd strangled you."

"Did he tell you anything else?" Donna typed in.

"That's the most important thing," he had no intention of telling her
things that she was better off not knowing.

"You're lying," she typed simply.

"Donna, he just rambled.  It was clear that he's a lunatic. He just
kept rambling on about being man's salvation and women's liberation."
Well, that was the truth. "I thought maybe since you and I both have
White House phones they'd be able to trace the call so I came back
here.  Ron was able to hook my phone up to a scanner or something and
they got a trace on your phone.  Apparently he was somewhere in
Arlington when he called. But when they got to the area they'd
triangulated he was gone."

She knew he was lying. She could always tell when he was lying. But
she wasn't sure she was ready to hear what he wasn't saying so she let
it go.

Josh had the feeling she knew he was keeping something from her but
when she failed to type something new, he continued. "Donna...." he
began.  "Because he thinks you're....dead," he said the word softly as
if it would help lessen the impact of it. "Ron Butterfield, the D.C.
police, and Mike Casper all think it would be safer for you if we let
the guy think he succeeded."  He paused there to gauge her reaction.

Donna didn't know what to say to that.  How did you argue with the
police, the Secret Service and the FBI? Things began to click together
in her brain. "Is that why I'm here and not at my apt. or some place
else?" Josh nodded. "Is that why you had my name changed on the
hospital records?" Again, he nodded.

"That's also why CJ and I couldn't be there to pick you up this morning."

Donna wasn't making that connection. "I don't understand."

He'd hoped he wouldn't have to say this out loud. Had hoped she would
realize what he was saying without him having to say it.  The words
did not come easily from his mouth. "Um, we staged your funeral this
morning, Donna.  CJ and I, Toby, Leo and Mrs. Bartlet all went."

Donna just sat there for a moment. "Stunned" didn't quite cover what
she was feeling.  "Bewildered" was a better description. Like Alice
after she'd fallen down the rabbit hole. And yet, part of her, a part
that she refused to acknowledge, was angry. So angry it would have
left her breathless with its ferocity if she'd acknowledged it. Her
fingers flew over the small keyboard. "Was it nice?" It was part
honest question, part sarcasm.

That certainly hadn't been the response he'd expected.  "Was it nice?
You want to know if the mock funeral we had for you was nice?" Josh
said, his voice rising slightly in disbelief.

"Don't raise your voice to me," she typed next.

He sighed hard in frustration.  "I'm sorry," he said. "But, Donna, no
it wasn't nice," he said, standing up and pacing the room.  He made a
concerted effort to try and keep his voice even. "It wasn't anywhere
in the vicinity of nice. It was your funeral. It was terrible. I
carried your coffin for God's sake." He stopped in front of her, the
coffee table between them.  "Oh, and I've decided you're not allowed
to die before I do because it was hell dealing with your fake funeral
and I just don't think I could deal with your real one."

Part of her, the same part that had been furious a moment before,
thought that was about the nicest, sweetest thing anyone had ever said
to her.  Of course, she wasn't really ready to acknowledge that
either.  What she did acknowledge was the broken, pained look on his
face. Realizing that she wasn't the only one affected by this horrible
situation, she rose from the couch and went to him. With her good arm,
she drew him into a hug. After a moment, she felt his arms go gently
around her. The warmth of him surrounded her. She felt so safe in his
arms. Her lips were near his ear and she didn't care if she wasn't
supposed to talk or not. She wanted him to hear her words from her own
mouth.

"Then we'll have to go together because I couldn't handle yours
either," she whispered softly.

Josh's heart clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut to stop his tears.
Being careful of her injuries, he tightened his arms around her and
felt her arm tighten in response. Even with all she had to deal with
she was still concerned for him. He didn't deserve her and never
would.  They stayed like that for a moment, then the slid apart. Josh
looked at her for a moment. Slowly, very slowly, he raised his hand to
brush her uninjured cheek. She didn't flinch. She didn't even blink.
Her eyes only continued to look at him. The trust he saw there
staggered him. "Okay, then it's a deal. Neither of us gets to die
before the other."

Donna picked up the phone from the coffee table where she'd laid it.
"Then I guess we'll both live forever."

Josh smiled at that and looked from the phone back to her face, "I
could live with that." He paused and gave himself the luxury of just
looking at her. "Now, come and sit down.  There's a couple more things
I need to tell you."

"I don't know. I think I've about had my quota for today," she typed
after she settled herself back down on the couch.

He sat down beside her again. "I know you have and I'm sorry to be the
one to add more. We could wait until tomorrow to finish talking about
this. It's up to you."

"No. Let's do it now. But could you do me just one favor?" she typed for him.

"Sure, anything."

"Bring me some blank note cards tomorrow morning?  I'm going to need
them to keep track of everything." The left corner of her mouth curved
upward ever so slightly, letting him know that things between them
were okay.

He smiled at her, "I think that can be arranged. But don't forget
you're supposed to be resting.  If Mrs. Bartlet thinks I've got you
working she'll string me up in her office and use me for target
practice." Taking a breath, he sobered a bit. "Now, for what else I
wanted to talk to you about. You're going to need a new apartment.
Even if you wanted to you couldn't go back to your old one."

"I get it. I'm dead.  Hard to keep paying rent on the old apt every
month. Not a problem," she typed.  There was an understatement.  Every
time she even thought about going back there she nearly broke out in a
cold sweat.

He was glad but a little surprised she agreed so readily. "CJ and I
have plans to find you a new place tomorrow. We want to get it all set
up so it's ready by the time you leave here." He paused. "We'd take
you but Mrs. Bartlet said you need your rest."

"It's fine.  I'm sure whatever you and CJ find will be fine. Just make
sure I can afford it."

He had no intentions of telling her about the 'I'll pay half the rent'
plan. "Don't worry.  I will take that into consideration. Oh, speaking
of money, just so you know, Mike Casper is working on setting up new
IDs, credit cards, and etc. for you. He'll also take care of
transferring your current bank accounts into new ones so you can use
the money. He may have some forms for you to sign though. Ron
Butterfield will get you new White House credentials." He paused
again. "But before they can do any of that you're going to have to
work on a couple of things for me."

"Like what?"

"First of all we're going to need a name for your new 'alter ego.' So
think about it."  She nodded and he took another breath. "We're also
going to have to change your look. Having everyone think you're dead
is not going to work if you're walking around the bull pen looking the
same as always. CJ and Mrs. Bartlet thought maybe we could get you
glasses or better yet, colored contacts."

"But I don't wear glasses."

"Yeah, we can get them so they don't correct your vision. Mike Casper
is sending someone over tomorrow morning. She works with the US
Marshall's office and the Witness Protection Program. She helps people
with their new identities if they need disguising or to have their
look changed.  You can wear a wig or you can have your hair colored or
cut. It's up to you." He hoped she only used a wig.  He would hate for
her to color her beautiful blonde hair. "She'll bring along some
things so you can try out different looks." He looked at her for a
moment. "For the time being you're going to have to wear the disguise
wherever you go. Whether you're at work or not. Doesn't matter.  About
the only place you can take if off is at home.  But even then you'll
have to have it on before you open the door for any kind of delivery
or whatever. We have to be sure this guy doesn't find out about you. I
know it will be hard and a pain for you to keep up the pretense but
for the time being it's...necessary," he finished.

She couldn't imagine that wearing a wig and some glasses or contacts
was going to change her look enough that people wouldn't recognize her
but she was too tired to argue about it. "Okay."

"Wow, Donna. I gotta tell you. You're being really cooperative.  I
thought you'd be against most of what I just told you."

Donna looked at him for a minute. "What would you like me to do?
Stomp my foot and throw this phone at you? It's pretty hard to argue
when everyone has apparently decided everything for me." The furious
part of her had returned but she still wasn't connecting to it.

He sighed.  "I know we did. I'm sorry. I truly am. It's just that
things had to be decided when you were still in the hospital and we
didn't think you were quite ready to hear all of it."

She knew he had a point, "I know. You're probably right. But let me be
clear.  From now on I want to be involved in the decisions."

"I know," he said. "And I plan to see that you are. Starting with your
apartment. CJ and I will pick our top 3 choices tomorrow and you can
choose which one you like best. Plus you can choose your name and your
new look. That will be entirely up to you."

"Okay," she typed.  Showing it to him she pulled the phone back and
typed some more. "Josh? Do my parents know about...me?"

"Yeah, Leo and CJ called them while I was at the hospital with you yesterday."

"What did they say?"

Josh shrugged, "Leo didn't really say." Wow, he lied really badly just then.

"Josh."

How someone could type and still seem to sound so stern was beyond
him. "Okay. They didn't say much. They said if anyone asked, they
wouldn't say anything about you."

"Did they come to the funeral too?"

"No.  They said they couldn't get away. They said since it wasn't your
'real' funeral..." he broke off as she began to type furiously.

"Yeah, because that would have made a difference. I'm surprised they
didn't say something about having to lie for me and how it would look
bad if their friends ever found out," she typed.

Well, according to Leo, that's almost exactly what they said, but
again, Josh wasn't going to tell her that. He decided it was best just
to move on. "I also told my mom.  She sends her love and said to tell
you she hopes you're feeling okay." He smiled.  "She threatened to
come up here and cook you matzo ball soup if you don't get better
soon."

Donna sat for a moment, turning that over in her mind.  Comparing her
relationship with her parents and Josh's mother. In that one sentence,
Josh's mother had shown exactly how much Donna meant to her.  She was
glad that she hadn't heard what her own parents had said to CJ and
Leo. It was obvious there were things that Josh wasn't saying about
that conversation. She imagined that had she been there herself the
meeting would have been fairly high on the humiliating scale.

'Speaking of humiliating,' she thought. "Who else knows about what
happened to me?  What really happened?" 'Please say no one, please say
no one,' she silently pleaded. She knew the First Family knew, of
course, and CJ, but she hoped no one else. Her hopes were dashed when
she saw the look in Josh's eyes.

"Everyone from the senior assistants up," he told her. "They had to
know so they can help protect your identity once you go back to work.
So that means...Margaret. Leo told her he'd personally have her lips
surgically sewn together if she breathed a word about it. Also Carol,
Ed, Larry, Debbie, Charlie, Toby, Ginger, Bonnie, and Angela Blake.
Oh, and against my better judgment and general common sense, Ryan.
Even though he's about as close to be being a senior assistant as I am
to being the next King of England, we kind of had to tell him since
we're using him in the cover story." He paused and let out a breath.
"Sam knows too."

"SAM?! Sam's in California. Why did he have to know?" she demanded.

"Because he saw the broadcast of the funeral on MSNBC and called to
rip me a new one for not bothering to tell him you'd been killed."

"IT WAS ON TV?!?" she typed.

Josh cringed.  "Did I not mention that?"

"No, you did not mention that." She looked at him, trying to be mad
but she couldn't.  This wasn't his fault. In fact, he was going out of
his way to help her. "Okay, fine." It would do no good for her to get
any more annoyed about it. What was done, was done. "So what time is
the secret identity woman going to be here?"

"Secret identity woman?" Josh had to smirk at that. "Are you going to
be the next Batgirl or something?"

That got the hint of a smile to tease her eyes. "Yeah, maybe I'll use
'Barbara Gordon' for my new name."

To Be Continued...



Chapter 10 - MATURE



Just as they finished the main part of their discussion, a knock
sounded at Donna's door.  "Come in," Josh called.

The door opened and Abbey stepped inside. "Hi. I just came to see if
dinner was all right." She'd removed the suit she was wearing earlier
and was dressed casually in jeans and a lightweight cotton blouse. Her
feet were bare, her toes painted a sassy candy apple red.

Josh started to answer but he closed his mouth and turned to Donna.
Although he knew that Donna wouldn't have minded if he answered for
her, he wanted to give her that option. "Would you like to answer her,
Donna?"

Donna's eyes sparkled for a moment as she nodded and began to type.
Abbey held the phone at arm's length so she could read it without her
glasses.  "It was wonderful. Especially the soup. Cream of Broccoli is
my favorite."

Abbey glanced at Josh and back at Donna.  "Yeah, I know. A little bird
told me." Pistachio ice cream wasn't the only favorite of Donna's that
Josh knew. She moved over to the table and, setting things over on the
cart, began to clear it.  Normally she would have had a steward take
care of it but after what Abbey suspected was some sort of panic
attack on Donna's part earlier, she was trying to keep the people in
the room to a minimum. Donna and Josh started to rise to help her.
"Now, Donna, you're going to make me feel like a bad hostess.  Sit
right there. Josh can help me and we'll be done in just a second."
Donna settled back down on the couch as he and Abbey continued to
clean up.

"Actually, Donna, I also wanted to ask if you needed to take a shower
or anything? I need to change the bandage on your hip anyway and I'm
sure you've got the lovely smell of the hospital on you."

Donna picked up the phone and typed something in and held it up for
Abbey, "Can I?  I thought maybe I couldn't because of thing on my
hip."

Abbey read the display, "Of course you can.  We can tape up the
bandage on your hip with some plastic so it doesn't get wet. You can
take your arm out of the sling but I wouldn't recommend using it. If
you want to wash your hair, it might be a bit of a challenge, since I
doubt your arm is going to cooperate, but I can help you with that
part if you'd like."  Donna hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"Good.  Now, all I have to do is dig up some bath products for you."

"Actually, Mrs. Bartlet, I brought a bunch of stuff over from Donna's
apartment." Knowing from Zoey that Donna had already unpacked her
things, he turned to her, "I did bring the right things, didn't I?" He
didn't a thing about girly bath and shower stuff so he'd grabbed just
about everything out of the shower and a number of things from under
the sink and the medicine cabinet. Donna nodded and he was glad he'd
gotten it right.

"Great." Abbey dusted off her hands as they finished with the table.
"Josh, would you mind taking this to the family kitchen?" she said,
indicating the cart.  "I told the steward I'd leave it there when we
were finished. He'll come and get if from there to take back to the
main kitchen downstairs."

Once again, Josh knew he was being politely asked to leave. Josh
looked from Abbey to Donna.  Donna nodded at his unasked question.
"Um, okay."

"Why don't you give us about an hour before you come back to tuck her
in?  That should be enough time for her to have her shower and for me
to change her bandage."

Josh looked at Abbey for a moment.  "You'll stay with her while she
takes her shower right?  I mean if she's gets dizzy or anything...."
The words sounded stupid even to Josh's own ears.

"Josh?  Do I look like a first year pre-med student?" Abbey asked him.
"Of course I'm going to be here to make sure she's okay.  Now, stop
worrying and take that cart to the kitchen."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, giving Donna one last look and one last
chance for her to ask him to stay.

Donna could clearly see he didn't want to leave her. Typing something
into the phone, she pressed the send button.  The phone in Josh's
pocket chimed that it was receiving a text message. That was the first
time she'd done that. With a small frown, he pulled the phone out of
his pocket and read the message.

"It's okay, Josh. You can go. As long as you promise to come back."

He smiled and realized he was going to have to learn the whole 'text
message' thing so he could send her messages back. "'Kay," he said,
his smile turning into a grin as he slid the phone back into his pants
pocket. "I'll be back in a bit." After opening the door, he pushed the
cart out into the hall and pulled it closed behind him.

After dropping the cart off in the kitchen he headed back downstairs
to his office. He ran into Ryan as he entered the bullpen.

"Hey, man," Ryan said.

"Hello, annoying one," Josh shot back.

As usual, Ryan completely ignored Josh's little jab.  He was as
impervious as Donna sometimes. Of course it could be said that he'd
learned it from her in the first place. "I've got a couple of messages
for you.  Mostly condolence calls about Donna," he said, handing the
small stack of pink message slips to Josh. "Hey, how is that....friend
of yours?" he said, knowing they had to be careful about how they
talked about Donna where someone could over hear them.

Josh flipped through them.  "She's doing all right," he said
distractedly.  Most of the messages were from various Congressmen and
Senators and other related politicos, a large part of whom couldn't
have picked Donna out of a line up if their lives had depended on it
and were obviously just being polite or were sucking up to him. Those
went almost immediately in the trash. One of the remaining 4 messages
caught his eye. The time on the message indicated the caller had
phoned about 10 minutes earlier.

Without another word to Ryan, Josh went into his office and closed the
door. Picking up the phone, he dialed the number he had memorized. The
person he was calling picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Stanley.  It's Josh."

"Josh, I think by now I recognize your voice," Stanley said with his
usual dry humor.

"I had a message that you called," Josh told him.

"Yeah, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was to hear about Donna."

Josh paused. For having Donna's true condition be a secret, he seemed
to be telling a lot people about it. "Um, about that Stanley...."

"Yes?" Stanley replied, not sure if this was going to remain a
friendly condolence call or veer into 'Josh is having a nutty'
territory. Stanley knew very well that Josh had deep denial issues
over his feelings for his assistant.

"She's not dead."

"Okay. So the fact that I saw you carrying her casket at the funeral
that was televised on MSNBC was just...what...a dramatization?"

"Well...kind of."

Stanley was quiet a moment, trying to decide if Josh had finally
crossed the line into insanity or was just being delusional. "So...if
I said I wanted to talk to her, that wouldn't be a problem?"

Josh grimaced. "Actually it would be a problem. She can't talk right now."

"Ah, Josh? Could you transfer me to Leo?" he said, trying to keep his
voice calm and casual.

"Why?"

Stanley chose his words carefully, "I just want to talk to him, 'cause
I think we're going to need to clear some time on your schedule to
talk to me."

Josh leaned back in his chair and grinned.  He could hear the, 'okay,
Josh has completely lost it' tone in his voice. "Stanley, I'm not
crazy."

"We don't like to use the word 'crazy,'" Stanley said.

"Stanley! I am not...whatever, and I'm really not in denial. She's
really not dead and she really can't talk right now.  Look...I'll
prove it to you." He pulled the phone away from his mouth, "RYAN!!!!"

The door opened and Ryan popped his head in, "Yeah, Josh?"

"Come in and close the door."

Ryan did as he asked, "What'd I do?"

"Nothing. I have Stanley Keyworth on the phone, please tell him what
happened to Donna." He held the phone out to him. It didn't occur to
Josh that Ryan had no idea who Stanley Keyworth was.

Ryan took the phone and cleared his throat, "Um, yeah. She was
murdered a couple of nights ago, I found her body in...." That was as
far as he got before Josh flew across the desk and snatched the phone
back from him.

"You have now, officially, made yourself completely useless. Out." he
said. Ryan, who, in all fairness had no idea what was going on and had
just been relating the cover story they'd given him, scurried out of
the office.

"Stanley..."

"Josh, I'm afraid that didn't help you much."

Time for Josh to give him the Reader's Digest condensed version of
what happened before Stanley sent the men in white coats to pick him
up. "Okay, look. Donna was sexually assaulted and her assailant tried
to strangle her but he didn't quite finish the job.  He called me from
her cell phone, which he stole from her apartment, and told me he
thought he'd killed her. The Secret Service, the FBI and the DC police
thought the funeral would be a good cover to let him keep on thinking
he succeeded. Part of the cover story is that my intern, Ryan, found
her body. That's why he said what he did. She spent the last two days
in the hospital. The damage to her neck from nearly being strangled is
why she can't talk. Right now she's safe and stashed upstairs in the
Residence with the First Lady playing Mother Hen." He was slightly out
of breath when he finished. "I swear that's the truth, Stanley. If you
don't believe me you can ask Leo or you can wait another 3 or 4 days
and talk to Donna yourself."

There was a big pause from the other end of the line, "Well, I believe
you more than I did a minute ago but if you don't mind I'd like some
confirmation from Leo."

Josh sighed, "Yeah, I figured. Hang on."  He put Stanley on hold,
dialed Margaret, briefly explained the situation and transferred
Stanley to her so Leo could talk to him. It was hard to tell because
Margaret was laughing so hard, but Josh thought she said that Leo was
free and she would have him talk to Stanley. Apparently it didn't take
long for Leo to convince Stanley that Josh hadn't gone completely off
the deep end because Josh's phone rang about 2 minutes later.  It was
Margaret and she was transferring Stanley back to Josh. "Stanley?" he
said tentatively, picking up the call.

"Yeah, Josh it's me."

"You talked to Leo?"

"Yeah, I'm convinced. You know, Josh, dealing with you and the White
House is an both an endless source of fascination and a huge pain in
the butt."

"Welcome to Washington, D.C., Stanley."

"Which is why I live in San Francisco."

"Candy-ass," Josh teased him, relieved now that Stanley believed him.

"No, I'm just not insane like the rest of you." He paused.  "So how's
Donna doing?"

Josh sighed, "Well, apart from her physical injuries which she'll
recover from, I think she's doing all right.  She says she doesn't
remember much of the attack."

"But you don't believe her." Stanley said.

"Oh, no, just the opposite.  I do believe her. She took a pretty hard
hit to the head and her attacker even told me that he hit her too hard
and she just laid there during most of it. It's just that she gets
this blank look now and then. She also had a mild panic attack this
afternoon because there were too many people around."

He filed away what Josh had said about the attacker and what he'd told
Josh about the assault.  Josh had blown through that part just a
little too easily.  But he wanted to finish with talking about Donna
first. "Well, it just happened and mentally she's probably still in
shock.  Even if she doesn't consciously remember the attack, her
subconscious may still harbor things that will come up."

"You mean like triggers? Like I was with music?" Josh asked him.

"Something like that. Each person faces trauma differently, Josh.  The
healing process doesn't fall into neat little boxes or neat little
chapters in a psychology textbook. Everyone has to find their own path
to recovery." He paused. "But I would recommend that you tell her how
important it is that she talk to a therapist about what happened."

"But Stanley, she doesn't remember anything."

"Josh, you didn't remember a whole lot either, did you? But it was
enough for you to end up sitting in a room with me for 8 hours a few
Christmases ago after putting your hand through a window. Even if she
literally has zero memory of the assault, I'm willing to bet waking up
with her body being in the condition I assume it was in and the entire
process at the hospital will leave a lasting impression. She needs to
talk to someone.  The sooner, the better."

"Her doctor at GW said that someone from the rape crisis center of
their psychiatric unit would be in touch with her to schedule an
appointment," Josh told him.

"Good.  If for some reason that falls through or there are any
problems, let me know. I can recommend a couple of therapists in D.C.
that she could see who have experience with RTS."

"RTS?" Josh asked him.

"Rape Trauma Syndrome. A variation of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
that is extremely common among rape victims, especially when violence
is involved. It's a cluster of emotional responses to the extreme
stress experienced by the survivor during the sexual assault."

"Why can't she just see you?  She knows you.  Wouldn't she be more
comfortable talking with someone she knows?"

There was a slight pause before Stanley answered, "Sometimes that's
true. But in this case I'm pretty sure she's going to want a female
therapist.  Female rape victims almost always do and understandably
so."

"Oh, I guess I hadn't thought about it like that."

"Josh, is there anything else you're not thinking about?" Stanley asked him.

"What do you mean?"

Stanley sighed softly; Josh never made things easy. "You said that you
talked to Donna's assailant and he gave you what sounded like some
pretty graphic details of what happened during the attack. That must
have been hard to hear."

"It was." Josh's replied, simply.

When no further comments were forthcoming Stanley pressed on, "You
want to elaborate on that?"

"Not especially."

"Josh..."

"I can't, Stanley. If I do I'm going to come apart and she needs me too much."

"Which is exactly why you have to. If you're going to be any help to
her you've got to have your head on straight. You've got to stop
trying to pretend that everything is okay.  Something horrible
happened to her, Josh, and by extension, to you. She's someone you
care about and he hurt her and then told you about it. Probably
gloated about it. I'm willing to bet that made you pretty angry. Am I
right?" He paused but Josh didn't say anything, so he pushed just a
little more. "Josh, remember me? I'm the guy you tell."

The ugliness that had lived in him since that fateful cell phone call,
began to ooze out of the place he'd stuffed it. Oily and black and
mean, it coiled around his heart.  The words began to fall from his
mouth, almost before his brain had a chance to register them. He
swiveled his chair toward the window.

"You know how you feel when...when you're so angry you can't think,
you can't focus. It's like the anger is a living thing inside you.
That's what it was like talking to him.  I wanted to smash the phone
against the wall the way I wanted to smash him.  But to trace the call
I had to listen to most of what he said. What I feel for him is beyond
hate, beyond wanting to kill him. Beyond anything that I can describe
to you, Stanley. Hate so black I didn't know I had it in me to feel."

He stopped for a second but Stanley remained quiet because he sensed
that Josh was gathering himself to say the rest.

Josh stared out his window into the night, "He hit her hard, Stanley.
The first time.  Too hard he said. She just laid there. So he kept
hitting her to wake her up.  Wanted her to be awake
to...know...what...what was being done to her. Thankfully she didn't
wake up." His voice had taken on a monotone now, making the words even
more chilling. "Then after he raped her, he planned to kill her. He
was going to shoot her from...inside. But the hammer of the gun got
caught on her skin. She had to have stitches for that and where the
site on the barrel cut her. When he saw the gun wasn't going to work
he decided to strangle her, with his bare hands. Then as a final
indignity, he said he left his mark on her. He burned her with a
cigarette."

He put his head in his hand.  "God, Stanley, I don't want this in my
head. How do I get rid of it? It feels like it's tearing me apart."
Just the faint hint of unshed tears colored his voice.

"You care about her Josh, of course it's tearing you apart," he said,
gently. The images Josh described were horrific to say the least. And
even though Stanley had heard a lot of terrible things during his time
as a therapist, what Josh had just told him topped the list of the
worst. "But you're never going to get rid of it.  You'll have to learn
to deal with it being there. Part of doing that is what you're doing
right now. Saying the words to someone else helps lesson the power and
ugliness of it in your mind." Stanley paused. "And remember that while
you had to hear about it, Donna had to live through it. That doesn't
invalidate your feelings, but it should give you empathy toward her
and what she went through and what she's going to have to go through
in the aftermath of what happened."

Josh thought about that for a moment, "Yeah, I guess it does." If he
could somehow use what he knew to help with her recovery then he could
live with those images in his head. "I just want to help her, Stanley.
She...she means everything to me."

"I know she does, Josh. But just remember, you can't fix this for her.
 You can support her and help HER fix it, but ultimately it's going to
be up to Donna. Just like it was up to you to fix yourself after
Rosslyn.  Donna helped you and I helped you and Leo helped you. But in
the end, you did it yourself."

**********

"Donna? You okay in there?" Abbey called through half-opened bathroom
door After helping her remove her sling, taping up the bandage on her
hip and shampooing up her hair, Abbey had left Donna alone in the
bathroom. She figured the younger woman would appreciate a little time
alone to get the smell of the hospital off of her. So she'd taken up
her position just outside the bathroom door on a comfortable chair and
was reading a magazine while she waited for Donna to finish.

Two loud knocks on the shower door rang out. Since Donna couldn't talk
that was the signal to Abbey that everything was all right.  Two
knocks meant yes, one knock meant no, and three knocks meant she
needed help with something.

Donna stood in the shower, letting the water sluice over her and her
mind drift a bit. Her mind was full and yet it was empty. It was a
little like looking at a locked library. There was a lot of
information there but she had no access to it. Or maybe she just
didn't want to access it. She was too tired right then to decide
which.

If her body didn't provide vivid evidence to the contrary she would
have thought the last three days had been some colossal practical
joke.  That everyone was just pulling her leg.  Teasing her like with
the falling Chinese satellite. She kept waiting for someone like Alan
Funt, to jump out from behind the towel rack and say, "Smile! You're
on Candid Camera." Then of course, she'd have killed Josh because it
would have been all his idea.

But she knew it was no practical joke. And Alan Funt had died in 1999.

So here she stood, her body feeling battered and alien, in a shower in
a guest room in the Residence of the White House. A personal guest of
the First Lady and the President of the United States. Life had
certainly become surreal in a short period of time.

Then there was the fact that she really didn't exist anymore.
Donnatella Moss was dead. At least to the world. Her identity was a
clean slate and she'd been given the task of rebuilding it. New look,
new apartment, even a new name. Talk about surreal.

Well, she'd been loitering in the shower long enough. She'd not only
washed off anything from that night and the hospital but she imagined
she'd removed a couple of layers of skin with the scalding hot water
she'd used.  Funny, the cold seemed to bother her a lot the last few
days. Only thing was, it wasn't consistent.  One minute she'd be fine
and then she'd get a chill. She chalked it up to her body's reaction
to the trauma it had been through. Switching off the water, she pushed
open the shower door and reached for a towel.

"Donna? You need any help in there?" Abbey called from the other room.

Donna knocked once on the shower door and stepped onto the bath mat.
Just as Abbey had predicted, Donna could move her fingers and she
could move her arm at the shoulder but any time she tried to bend or
move it at the elbow the pain was terrible. Which pretty much meant
her arm was all but useless to her at the moment.  Drying off was kind
of an adventure and took a while since her left arm could only reach
so far. Toweling her hair off was a little easier but she couldn't
manage to make a turban for it with one hand so she left it lying damp
on her shoulders.

Getting dressed had its own set of problems. Pulling a t-shirt on was
easier than getting her underwear on.  For the t-shirt all she had to
do was put her injured arm through the hole, then  pull it over her
head, slide her uninjured arm through the other sleeve and give it a
hard tug to pull it down. Maybe it was the whole gravity aspect of it,
but the underwear required a lot more time and tugging.  She had to
lay them out on the floor and then toe her way into both leg holes,
and then using her good hand she worked them up her legs. But by the
time they got to her hips they were slightly rolled and that's where
things got really difficult. It didn't help that her skin was a little
damp from the shower. Finally, after some silent cursing and working
her way around she got them up.

She still had her shorts to put on, but by then she was exhausted and
sat down on the closed toilet lid and leaned against the wall to rest.
Knocking hard 3 times on the wall, she looked up as Abbey instantly
appeared in the doorway.

"What's wrong, honey?" Abbey asked her. She frowned as she saw her
slumped tiredly against the wall.  "Are you feeling okay?"

Donna warmed at the endearment. She couldn't even remember her mother
calling her 'honey.' She gave Abbey her little left sided smile and
held up her shorts.

Abbey smiled back at her, relieved that it was simple problem. "Kind
of hard getting dressed with only one hand, isn't it?" she said. Donna
nodded as Abbey took the shorts from her. Abbey laid them across her
shoulder and held out her hand.  Donna took it and let Abbey help pull
her up. "How about we wait to put these on until after I change your
bandage? It'll be one less layer I'll have to move out of the way."
Donna nodded again. "Good, come on, I've got everything set up in the
other room.  I figured it would be easiest to change if you were lying
down."

The two of them walked into the bedroom and Donna laid down on the
bed, which Abbey had already turned down in anticipation of Donna
being ready to get some sleep. As Donna stretched out, the t-shirt she
wore rode up slightly, revealing the tops of her thighs. Abbey frowned
at what she saw there. Scars. Old scars, a lot of them, that
criss-crossed the top 3 or 4 inches of her thighs. "Donna? How did you
get these scars on your legs?"

Donna looked at her blankly for a minute. Then she picked up the phone
from the night stand and put in her answer. All the while ignoring the
throbbing that had begun somewhere in her head. "When I was 12 I ran
through a sliding glass door and then fell on the threshold and the
glass cut me."

Abbey read what she'd typed and looked at Donna and then back down at
her legs.  It was a plausible explanation and she saw no deception on
Donna's face. What's more, she couldn't think of any reason why she
would lie to her.  But still....the scars looked a little symmetrical,
too confined to one area, for what Donna had described. Well, now
wasn't the time.  There were more pressing matters to be seen to. "Oh.
Well, I'm sorry about that. Now, let me take a look at you and then
we'll get this bandage changed."

Abbey helped Donna put her sling back on and then she set about taking
her vital signs and checking her pupil responses and the swelling in
her throat.  "Everything looks good, Donna," Abbey told her as she
began to remove the bandage on Donna's hip.  Donna's hand stopped her.

"I want to see it," she typed.

Abbey looked at her for a moment.  She hadn't planned to let her see
it.  She wasn't sure she could handle it just yet. "Oh, Donna, you
don't want to see it. Burns always look so much worse than they are.
Why don't you let it heal a little first?"

She held up the phone again and shook it slightly, "I want to see it,"

Well, she had a right to see what was now going to be a permanent
fixture on her body, at least until they could see about some plastic
surgery or something to have it removed or covered up. Abbey smiled
down at her.  "Okay, let me take off this bandage and then you can see
it in big mirror in the bathroom."  Donna nodded back at her and laid
still as Abbey removed the covering.

Although Abbey knew what to expect she hadn't actually seen it before
it she had to make a conscious effort not to gasp. The purely maniacal
sight of the grinning smile and red burned skin was hard even for her
to take. Maybe Donna shouldn't see it. Maybe she should try and
prepare her for the fact that it wasn't just a random burn. But it was
too late, Donna had already risen from the bed and was heading into
the bathroom. Abbey followed her. "Donna?  Donna, wait I want to tell
you something."

Donna heard Abbey but kept walking. She felt the cool tile under her
feet as she walked into the bathroom and up to the mirror. Pulling the
edge of her underwear down and holding the tail of her shirt up she
looked at the area everyone had been so careful to shield from her
view. She now saw why. A smiling face, composed of 7 dots, each the
size of pencil erasers and burned into her skin.  She smelled it then.
Just the phantom hint of a trace of a memory. Cigarette smoke and
burning flesh. The room began to spin a bit and she vaguely felt
Abbey's arms go around her and ease her to the floor. From there
everything was jumbled and disjointed and far away as if she was
watching a movie from the wrong end of a pair of binoculars.

Abbey's heart was nearly beating out of her chest as she watched Donna
curl into fetal position on the bathroom floor.  "Donna?  Donna,
honey?  It's okay," Abbey said, stroking her wet hair. "We'll fix it.
You don't have to have it forever. As soon as it heals enough we'll
find a plastic surgeon that will remove it." Donna's eyes were open,
but Abbey got no response. Donna was quiet but she was beginning to
shiver and was pulled as tightly into a ball as she could be.

Running back into the bedroom, Abbey snatched up the house phone and
dialed the number for the Secret Service. "This is Mrs. Bartlet, I'm
in Donna Moss' room. I need you to get Josh Lyman up here for me now.
I mean RIGHT NOW! And I need someone to go to my room and get my
medical bag. It's in the bottom of the left hand night stand." She
slammed the phone down and, grabbing the blanket off the bed, dragged
it back into the bathroom.  Tossing it over Donna she continued to
stroke her hair and speak to her in quiet tones. "It's okay, Donna.
Help's coming."

To Be Continued...



Chapter 11 - MATURE



After finishing his call with Stanley, Josh had wandered a bit,
looking for a distraction until his "hour" was up and he could go up
and check on Donna. He found himself standing in Toby's open doorway.
Toby, his head resting in one of his hands, was hunched over a large
yellow legal pad. "Well?  Are you going to stand there all night or
are you coming in?" Toby asked him without looking up.

"I, um, didn't want to bother you if you were in the middle of something."

"Never stopped you before," Toby replied, glancing up from the pad.

"That's true," Josh said, walking to Toby's office. "What are you working on?"

"A first draft of the President's speech for the thing next week."

"The one with the group or the one with the award?"

"The group," he said, his attention already going back to the pad.

"So...how are Andi and the twins doing these days?"

He looked up at Josh. "They're good.  I saw them over the weekend and
all three of them are healthy and happy."

"Oh, that's good," Josh replied as he wandered over to a bookcase and
stared idly at the contents.

Toby's eyes followed for a moment. It was obvious he wasn't getting
rid of Josh any time soon. "So how's is our guest in the Residence
doing?" Since his office door was open he decided to speak in a little
bit of code. He felt a little foolish but if it would help protect
Donna then he could deal with it.

Josh looked away from the bookcase. "About as well as can be
expected," he said.  "I'm going to go and check on that in..." He
looked at his watch. "About another 15 minutes."

"I'm sorry about....." Toby began.  "The, you know, reason there needs
to be a guest."

Josh looked at him for a moment. Toby could be so cryptic sometimes,
but once you learned to read him he wasn't really that hard to figure
out.  Enigmatic, cynical and often hard on the outside. Yet on the
inside he was a man of deep feeling and as big a teddy bear as they
came. Josh also knew he had a soft spot for Donna.  In his own way,
Josh thought that Toby felt responsible for her. He'd been the one to
tell her about Josh when he'd been shot.  He'd been the one to tell
her about the President's MS. Josh also knew that Donna was very fond
of Toby, the way you were fond of a big brother or a favorite uncle.
"Thanks, Toby."

Toby went back to scribbling on his legal pad.  "Well, tell our guest
if either of you need anything just let me know."

"I will.  Oh, say. Did CJ tell you that tomorrow afternoon she and I
are going to need some time to...do the thing?" Toby wasn't the only
one who could speak in code.

"The finding thing?" he glanced up at Josh.

"Right."

"Yeah, she told me.  Is there anything you need me to take of for you
while you're gone?"

"No.  It's...." he broke off has his cell phone started ringing.
"Hang on," he told Toby. He pulled his cell out and looked at the
display. He frowned when it read, 'SS' for 'Secret Service.' As he
pressed the button to answer it, he tried to ignore the knot that had
begun to form in his stomach, "Josh Lyman."

"Mr. Lyman, this is Agent Walters. Mrs. Bartlet just called down from
the Residence and she wants you up there immediately," the agent said
calmly but with a sense of urgency. "I believe you know which room
she's in."

Josh was already moving, leaving a frowning Toby in his wake. He moved
as fast as he could without attracting attention. "Yeah, I know. Did
she say why?"

"No, just that it was very urgent."

"Okay, I'm on my way," he told the agent then clicked off the phone
and slid it back in his pocket. As soon as he hit the stairs that
would take him up to the Residence he accelerated into a sprint.

**********

Abbey heard feet pounding and looked up to see three Secret Service
agents, including Ron Butterfield, standing in the bathroom doorway.
"No!  Stay back, you'll only frighten her more. I'm fine," she
reassured them. "I just need Josh and my medical bag."

"Josh is on his way and I sent one of the agents to your room for your
bag," Ron told her.  "Is there anything we can do in the meantime?"

"No, just stay back out of the way," she said, continuing to speak
softly to Donna. A few moments later she heard running footsteps
again. She hoped it was Josh and she hoped he could bring Donna back
from wherever she'd gone or else Abbey would have to sedate her. A
pair of feet appeared next to Ron. They were attached to another
agent, Abbey's bag clutched in his hand. He handed it to Ron and Ron
stepped slowly into the bathroom until he was far enough in he could
hand it to Abbey. Then he stepped back. Just in time to move out of
the way for Josh, who'd come barreling through the agents.

Josh's heart was racing as he stopped next to Ron and it wasn't all
because of his quick trip upstairs. The sight of Donna curled into a
ball on the floor of the bathroom also had something to do with it.
"What happened?!" he demanded.

Abbey looked up at him. "I was changing the bandage on her hip and she
asked to see the burn. I was going to stop her or least prepare her
but she saw it before I could." Josh started to move forward, his eyes
locked on Donna. "Move slowly, Josh." She watched as he slowed and
measured his steps. "Ron, could you close the door and give the three
of us a minute? It will be all right.  She's obviously no threat to
anyone." Ron nodded and pulled the bathroom door closed. Josh had
continued to slowly move until he was kneeling beside her, his eyes
still on Donna. "I've been trying to talk to her but there's been no
reaction. CJ told me you were able to calm her down at the hospital
and I thought maybe if she heard your voice it might help. If it
doesn't I'm going to have to sedate her," she told him.

It never occurred to him to hesitate or be scared. Donna was in pain,
in need and he had to try and reach her. She'd done so much for him
after Rosslyn and the Christmas that followed, he couldn't stand by
and let her suffer. As he knelt beside her and watched her struggle
with the trauma of what she'd been through, instinct born of all the
things they'd been through in the last 7 years, seemed to take over.
He nodded to Abbey. "Move over, let me be by her head." Abbey traded
places with him.

"Donna?" he said, gently, his heart breaking for her pain. He kept his
voice low as his mouth hovered near her ear. "Donnatella?" her
shivering began to slow. Taking it as a good sign, he went on. "You're
safe.  It's okay. I know that seeing your hip was hard. But it will
get better.  We'll make it better, I promise." Slowly, he moved his
hand to her cheek, her uninjured cheek as she was laying on her right
side, and began to brush just his index finger over it in the lightest
of touches.  "Please Donna, please come back to me. I need you. I've
always needed you."

Whispers buzzed through Donna's head. Whispers like white noise that
she couldn't understand. Whispers that stung and demanded attention.
She wanted to swat at them, to make them go away. But her hands seemed
paralyzed into clenched fists and even the will to lift one of them
seemed beyond her. She was cold. So cold she thought that if she
moved, she'd shatter into a million icy shards. The worst cold of all
was at her hip. She couldn't see why it was so cold there. All she
knew was that it was a cold so hard and deep it burned like fire.

Then she heard it. Her name. A voice said her name. The voice was
gentle and safe. Soft warmth began to slowly spread through her frozen
limbs. Although her hip still burned viciously, the voice made it not
seem so bad.

Then, erasing the earlier horror and smell that made her so cold, came
the scent. The voice's familiar scent. Not of cologne or anything
artificial. But the scent of him. The scent of home and of peace. On
its most primal level, the scent of her mate. 'Come back,' she heard
him say. 'I need you.' As if someone had pulled her from a block of
ice and laid her in the warm afternoon sun, she began to thaw. Now, if
she tried really hard, she was able to move her fingers. Slowly she
reached out to him, knowing he would warm her and keep her from harm.

Now that she was no longer shivering, Josh was concentrating so hard
on Donna's face, on trying to get her to see him, he didn't realize
her hand had moved until it touched his where it rested on her cheek.
Her left hand covered his tentatively at first then, in response to
his gentle squeeze, latched onto it with an iron grip. Almost like he
were her life line. "Donna? That's it Donna, you can do it. Come
back." Her body seemed to relax a bit and lose some of it's ball-like
shape. He slid his arm under her and gathered her against him. Even
though she'd had the comforter over her she felt ice cold to him as
she curled around him and buried her face against his neck. Her eyes
were closed now as he rubbed her back in slow gentle circles, rocking
her gently.  "It's okay, Donnatella. You're safe. Don't be frightened.
No one's going to hurt you."

Donna breathed deeply.  Inhaling the scent of him as it filled her
senses and the warmth of his body chased away the last fingers of
frost from her soul. "Josh," she said in a raw whisper.

Looking down he saw her eyes were still closed, "Yes, Donna.  It's me.
Open your eyes, Donnatella, and look at me. You'll see I'm right here
with you." He held his breath as there was movement under her eyelids.
Then they fluttered slowly open and he was looking into her beautiful
blue eyes. They were blank at first, but then a hint of life and
awareness appeared as she focused in on him. "Hey," he said gently
with little smile and his heart relaxed fractionally.  She blinked in
response. "There you are.  You had me worried there for a minute. You
went away." She nodded slightly. "Are you back now? 'Cause I really
missed you."

She nodded to him again. 'Yes,' she thought. He was there, filling
cold and the dark. It was safe when he was there.

"Good," he said with the smile she loved.  "Now, how about we get you
off this cold floor?"  She nodded again and together they stood.  Or
tried to, Donna was still shaken from what had happened and was
unsteady on her feet.  Without a thought, Josh picked her up in his
arms as Abbey went to open the door. After throwing out all the Secret
Service agents, Abbey stood back as Josh carried Donna out, laid her
on the bed and pulled covers over her. When he tried to stand up, she
wouldn't let go of him so he sat down on the side of the bed. "Do you
want me to stay with you?" he asked gently. She nodded again. "If I do
will you do something for me?" She looked at him, waiting, he knew, to
hear his terms. "Will you take your medication, including a sleeping
pill and then let Abbey put a new bandage on your hip?"

At the mention of her hip, Josh saw a hint of fear come into her eyes.
 "Hey. It's okay. Don't be scared.  Abbey won't hurt you and I'll be
here with you and you won't have to see it." He watched the wheels
turning in her head before she answered. After a moment she swallowed
and nodded again.  Out of the corner of his eye, Josh saw Abbey move
over to the dresser and start gathering the medication. "That's my
Donnatella."

Picking Zane up off the night stand, Josh tucked him back under the
strap of her sling where she seemed to like to keep him. Abbey walked
back over to them and handed Josh the cup of medication and a large
glass of water. He helped Donna sit up. She took the medication
without a protest and laid back down.

 "Now, I'm just going to go around to the other side of the bed where
there's more room." Her eyes followed him as he walked around the bed.
Pulling off his tie and toeing off his shoes he climbed onto the bed
and staying on top of the covers, he crawled over to her side. She
started to roll toward him. "No, look at me but lay still a minute so
Abbey can take care of you." He started to talk to her to keep her
distracted as Abbey folded back part of the sheet to expose Donna's
hip and got to work.

"So you'll never guess who I talked to today," Josh said.  "Stanley
Keyworth. He called to say how sorry he was that something had
happened to you. Do you know how many friends you have, Donna?  The
phones have been ringing off the hook with people calling about you."
He glanced at Abbey now and then as she silently cleaned and redressed
Donna's hip. "And I think you're going to have to come back to work
soon or I'm going to have Ryan stuffed in a box and shipped to Cuba.
We've been trying to get rid of Castro for so long now and nothing's
worked but having Ryan there just might do it. He's driving me crazy
without you there to run interference."

Donna's eyes were beginning to droop as Abbey finished and she covered
Donna back up again. Josh look up at Abbey and then back to Donna.  He
opened his arms, Donna went into them without a word. Her head was
resting on his chest so she could feel and hear his heartbeat. The
covers between them, Josh started stroking her back in soft circles
again and in a few minutes she was asleep.

Abbey made a sweep of the room, picking up things and putting it to
rights.  As she came out of the bathroom carrying the comforter, she
laid it on the bed.  For a moment, Abbey watched the two of them with
a lump in her throat. Donna was sound asleep, with Josh watching over
her like a vengeful angel. 'No two people belong together more than
these two,' she thought. Well, except maybe for her and Jed. "I'm
sorry, Josh. I had no idea she'd have that reaction to seeing the
burn," she said softly.

Josh wanted to be mad at Abbey, but the truth was he had no idea Donna
was going to react that way either, "It's okay," he mouthed her to
her, unwilling to take the chance that his voice would wake up Donna.

"I'll tell Leo what happened and that you'll be here if he needs you,"
Abbey told him quietly as she turned the lamp on the night stand down
to it's lowest setting. Josh nodded in reply. Silently, Abbey pulled
the comforter up over both of them so Josh would have something to
keep him warm, too.

"Thank you," Josh mouthed to her as she did.

"You're welcome," she replied softly.  "If you need anything just pick
up the phone and dial 22. That's our room."  Josh nodded and she left
the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Hoping Jed had finished
for the night and was somewhere in the Residence, she went to find
him.  She really needed to feel his arms around her.  Needed to feel
his presence to settle her after what had just happened.

**********

The first fingers of dawn were just sliding over the city when Donna's
eyes fluttered open. Disorientation seeped in as she woke. A man's
dress shirt filled her field of vision and for half a heartbeat it
sent a bolt of fear through her until she realized it was Josh. She
calmed instantly but the disorientation remained.  Why was she
sleeping next to Josh? Or more accurately, 'against' Josh. Her brain,
still a little sluggish from the sleeping pill and the night before
began to back track.

She shifted slightly and took a look around the room. 'Where am I?'
she wondered. Oh, yes. She was in the Residence.

'Why am I here again?' Oh, yes. The thing she couldn't remember. The
hospital. Zoey bringing bring her here. Josh telling her about the
funeral. Josh.

'Why is Josh here sleeping in my bed?' Oh. The events from last night
began to play in her head. Oh, God. At best, she must have looked like
an idiot. At worst she must have looked completely insane. She had to
learn to get a hold of herself better. It was just inconceivable and
inexcusable that Josh and the First Lady would see her having a nutty
on the bathroom floor. In private, she could do that, but she was the
strong one and she needed to hold it the hell together when others
were around.

'It was just a little burn,' part of her tried to rationalize. Just a
burn. Oh, God. The burn. It was horrible. She shivered slightly at the
thought of it. How did it get there? Could the 'guy,' the one she
couldn't remember, have put it there? Why would he do that to her?
What had she done to him that he would do that and everything else
he'd apparently done to her? 'Sometimes they don't need a reason,' an
unfamiliar part of her whispered from deep inside.  Unconsciously, she
brushed her uninjured hand over one of the scars on her thigh.
'Sometimes they just took what they wanted.'

'Where did that thought come from?' she wondered. Another shiver went
through her.  This time not because of the burn and not from being
cold. But because of something she couldn't quite touch. Something
that was lost to her.

Her first shiver had gently woken Josh and he laid there taking a
moment to enjoy the feeling of her in his arms. He only wished that is
was under different circumstances. Her second shiver made him frown
with concern but he decided to try and keep things as normal as
possible. "Good morning."

Donna reached over and picked up her cell phone on the night stand.
"Good morning. I'm sorry about last night," she typed.

Josh's hand rose slowly to her forehead and he brushed some hair out
of her face, "Nothing to be sorry about. I'm sure seeing your hip for
the first time was a shock."

She looked at him a moment then typed something. "You knew about it?
About what it...looked like?"

His expression softened. "Yeah. Your doctor told me and CJ the day you
were brought into the hospital. I didn't know if you were ready to
hear about it so I didn't tell you." He tried to explain, hoping that
she wouldn't be angry at him for that.

"I guess you were right.  I wasn't ready," she typed, letting him know
she understood. "Does anyone else know?"

"Well, Abbey does. I don't know if she told the President or not. And
I told Stanley. Do you remember me telling you that I talked to him
yesterday?"

Donna nodded, "Anyone else?"

"I don't think so."

She looked a little relieved at that. "Okay."

"Do you remember what happened last night?" he asked her gently.

"Sort of. I remember seeing my hip and then everything gets fuzzy
after that," she typed. "But I remember you saying you needed me."

"Well, that shouldn't be a big surprise to you. I've always needed
you. I'm sorry if I don't tell you enough," he told her.

His words warmed her. She loved to be needed. Especially by him. Donna
looked at the time readout on the phone. It was almost 7. "You've got
staff in 30 minutes."

"Yeah.  I know," he said, rubbing a hand over his face. "Do I still
have that extra set of clothes in my office?" he asked her. "Somehow I
don't think Leo's going to be really impressed with these." He said,
indicating his rumpled and wrinkled clothes.

"Your suit came back from the cleaners last week.  It's on the back of
the alcove door in your office. There are two coordinating shirts
hanging with it. Then down in the bottom drawer are two pairs of
boxers, a couple of clean undershirts, a couple of clean ties and your
spare bag of toiletries."

He looked at her with a little bit of awe.  She always kept him
together. "Have I told you lately how amazing you are?"

After the whole fiasco with the first time Josh met Joey Lucas, Donna
had tried to make sure Josh always had a change of clothes. Her eyes
smiled at him. "I think you just did," she typed.

Josh smiled at her. "Well, as much as I'd like to stay here, I've got
to get going. After staff I've got some other things to take care of
and then CJ and I are bound and determined to find you new apartment.
So I guess I'll head off to use one of the showers in the men's locker
room downstairs."

"Or you could use the shower in here and then just change downstairs.
It might save you some time."

"My ever efficient Donnatella, you make a good point. I think I will
follow your suggestion." He started to climb out of bed then paused.
"I don't suppose you have any 'normal' soap in the shower do you? Or
anything that doesn't smell too 'girly?'"

Donna managed the lopsided smile that Abbey had inspired in the
hospital. "I think I saw a new bar of 'regular' soap in the soap dish
last night."

He smiled at her before he turned to head into the bathroom, "Good. I
like to give Toby and the President as little ammunition as possible
to tease me with."

**********

Donna was lying on the couch watching TV but she looked up when a
knock sounded at the door. Abbey came in a moment later. Donna turned
off the set and raised her hand in greeting. Abbey was impeccably
dressed in a stylish burgundy suit.

"Good morning, Donna," Abbey greeted her. Even though she'd grilled
Josh just after he'd come out of staff this morning about Donna's
state of mind, she was relieved to see for herself that Donna looked
all right."

"Good morning."

"Was breakfast all right?" Abbey wasn't sure if Donna would be up for
company first thing this morning so she had a steward knock and then
leave a room service cart outside Donna's door. It had been laden with
a couple of different dishes to try, ones she knew from Josh were
Donna's favorite. The steward reported that two of the dishes, the
banana walnut pancakes and the bagels had been partially eaten and
about half the orange juice was gone.

"It was wonderful.  I loved the pancakes. Banana walnut are my favorite."

Abbey smiled, "Good. And you took all your medication?"  Donna nodded.
 "Great.  Now, I just wanted to stop by and let you know that I can't
be here today when the people from the FBI and the Marshall's office
come by in about an hour. I have a luncheon I'm supposed to attend in
Bethesda. But Zoey said she'd be here to help you pick out your new
look."

Donna hated the fact that the easy camaraderie she and the First Lady
had before last night now seemed strained. "I'm sorry about last
night, Abbey. I can't believe I freaked out like that."

Abbey was relieved that Donna had brought it up because she hadn't
wanted to if Donna wasn't ready to talk about it. "Can I sit?" she
asked.  Donna nodded and Abbey settled herself on the couch. "It was
my fault, Donna. I'm sorry that I didn't prepare you better. To be
honest, I didn't expect it to look quite so bad. I mean your doctor
told me about it but I hadn't actually seen it before last night.
Although you may not remember me saying it, I meant what I said about
finding a plastic surgeon who could remove it. You may have a scar
there but it won't look as bad as it does now."

Donna nodded.  "It wasn't your fault. I never should have flipped out
like that. I just wanted to say thanks for all you've done for me.
Especially for looking after me and letting me stay here."

"Well, don't let this get around but Jed and I think of all of you as
kind of our extended family.  We've been through a lot together and
when we can do something to help we like to do it."

"You've been very kind."

"I'm just glad you're feeling better this morning. Did you and Josh
sleep all right last night?" she couldn't help but smile a little. If
Josh and Donna could ever get their timing right and their heads out
of their asses they might actually notice they were in love with each
other.

"I think Josh did, he seemed pretty rested this morning," she typed.
"I know I was.  I felt much better after a good night's sleep."

"A good night's sleep helps with a lot of things," Abbey said, her
expression turning serious. "Donna, honey. I'd be lying if I didn't
tell you I'm worried about you. Have you thought about talking to
anyone about what happened to you? The attack I mean? Someone like a
therapist? I know it really helped Zoey after the kidnapping."

"My doctor at GW said someone from their rape crisis center would be
contacting me when I could speak again. But I don't know how much good
it will do. I don't remember anything."

"Donna, I hate to say this but I think you did remember something last
night. That's why you had the reaction you did."

"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt to talk to someone," Donna typed,
hoping they could change the subject.

"I'm sure it couldn't," Abbey said with smile, happy they now seemed
to be back on track. "Now, if you'll excuse me I need to get moving or
I'm going to be later for the luncheon. Zoey said she'd be up in about
a half hour to help you get together some ideas for when our visitors
get here." She stood up from the couch.  "I'm looking forward to
seeing what you two come up with. I'll check-in with you later. Bye,"
she said as she left the room.

Donna stared out the window for a moment.  Just how did you go about
getting ready to change everything about yourself?  Abbey wasn't the
only one wondering what they were going to come up with.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 12 - MATURE



"Donna?" Mike said as he knocked quickly on the open bedroom door.

"Come in," Zoey called from where she and Donna were seated on the couch.

Mike Casper stepped into the room, followed by his two associates,
each of whom were pulling large black suitcases behind them, and
walked over to the couch.  "Hi, Zoey," he said, greeting the first
daughter. Then he turned to Donna and softened his voice. "Hi, Donna.
How are you feeling today?" It occurred to him how ludicrous that
question was. With her arm in a sling, the bruises on her face and
neck and the other injuries he knew she had as a result of her
assault, he imagined she felt pretty terrible. During the number of
meetings and phone calls he'd had with Josh in the last few days, he'd
heard the anger and frustration in Josh's voice over what had happened
to her and he shared it. Only his years of training in the FBI had
kept him from openly expressing it. He was bound and determined to get
the animal that had done this to her and help her and Josh get through
this in anyway he could. He was very fond of Donna and the only reason
he'd never asked her out was the fact that long ago, he'd figured out
that Josh was in love with her and, he suspected, Donna felt the same
way about Josh. But time, circumstance and, in his opinion, plain
stupidity and stubbornness on both their parts, had kept them apart.

Donna and Zoey rose from the couch to greet the visitors. "I'm okay.
Thanks, Mike," she typed. Donna had always liked Mike Casper and not
just because Josh was friends with him. Mike had always been
respectful of her and even a little innocently flirtatious when things
weren't too hectic. At one point she'd considered tying to get him to
ask her out but she'd discarded the idea because he was such a good
friend of Josh's.

"I'd like you to meet the ladies that will be working with you today
on setting up your new identity. This is Deputy Patricia Taylor from
the US Marshall's office."

"Hi, nice to meet you," Patricia told her, holding out her hand.

Donna swallowed her apprehension. She was still getting use to
touching people again, especially strangers, but she held out her hand
anyway. She had to use her left hand as her right one was still in a
sling. Patricia took it in a firm handshake. Dressed in jeans and a
light cotton blouse, she was about Zoey's height with a similar build,
but was probably closer to Donna's age, with a fresh face and long
dark brown hair she had pulled into a serviceable ponytail.

"And this is Special Agent Shannon James, from the FBI office here in
DC," Mike told her.

"Hello," Shannon said, also holding out her hand.  Again Donna shoved
down her unease and shook the woman's hand. Shannon, who was probably
also about Donna's age, was about Donna's height with honey blond hair
that she wore very short and she wore just a soft hint of make-up. She
looked very inch the FBI agent in her dark but stylish suit and white
blouse. She kind of reminded Donna of a blonde Dana Scully.

"They both have extensive experience in this kind of work. I'm sure
they'll be able to get you set up with a believable disguise," Mike
said. "Oh, I have some paperwork I need you to sign. But you'll have
to sign them in your new name.  Have you thought of what you'd like to
call your alter ego?"

Donna nodded and started typing, "Sydney Collins." She held the phone
up for him and the others to see.

"Sydney Collins, huh?  I like it," Mike said.  "Do you mind me asking
how you came up with it?"

Donna started typing again, "Actually Zoey suggested "Sydney" for the
girl on that show 'Alias.'  Sydney Bristow."

"Yeah," Zoey said, continuing the story. "I thought it fit because her
character is always dressing up in disguises. And, well, I thought it
was a nice name."

 "And Collins?" he asked.

"We were going to authors to find a last name and I thought of 'Jackie
Collins' so I used hers," Donna typed into the phone.

Mike smiled at them, "Great.  I only ask because I wanted to make sure
that the name you picked wasn't something that could be easily tied to
your real identity. Okay, so Sydney Collins it is." He pulled a folder
out of his briefcase, removed a couple of sheets of paper from it and
laid them on the small dining table. "You're welcome to read them or I
can explain them to you."

"Please explain them," Donna replied.

So he did and she signed them. Mostly they were forms like a Power of
Attorney, to allow Mike to transfer money from her "Donna Moss"
accounts and into her new "Sydney Collins" accounts, as well as forms
giving him the authority to get her new credentials and identification
in the name of "Sydney Collins."

"Okay," Mike said, gathering up all the paperwork.  "I will get every
rolling on this, but right now I've got a meeting with Ron Butterfield
and then I'm hoping to catch Josh and talk to him for a few minutes."

"I think he'll be out for most of the afternoon, he and CJ are trying
to find me a new place to live," she typed.

Mike smiled at her, "Well, I think I can find some way to keep myself
out of trouble.  When I get back from speaking with Josh and you have
your new look but together we can take your ID photos too. Oh, and
Donna, before I go I was wondering if I could set up a time to talk
with you."

Donna frowned slightly, "About what?"

"Well, I need to take your statement down about the attack.  The DC
police wanted to do it but with this being a joint investigation, I
told them I would take care of it since I knew you." He paused and
looked at her for a minute.  "Unless you'd like someone else.  It's
okay with me if you do," he said, trying not to put any extra pressure
on her. "Maybe you'd be more comfortable with a female agent?"

Donna shook her head. It wasn't talking to Mike that made her
hesitate.  "No.  I'm just not sure how much I'm going to be able to
tell you.  My memory is pretty much a blank slate from that night."

"Well, anything you can remember would be helpful. Maybe talking it
through with someone will help you remember something," he told her.
"We can do it right here.  You can have anyone present you'd like.  I
imagine Josh will want to be here." Mike didn't mention that because
of the cell phone call with her attacker, Josh would need to give a
statement of his own.

Donna nodded slightly, "How about tomorrow morning? Around 10?"

Mike smiled at her, "Good. That's sounds fine. Well, I have to go and
see Agent Butterfield. I'll be back later."

With that he left the room and Shannon closed the door behind him.
"Well, since you've picked out new name we'll start using it. It will
help you get use to hearing people call you by it." She smiled at
Donna, trying to put her at ease.  "So, Sydney, do you have any ideas
on what your new look should be?"

Donna shook her head and started to type.  "No.  I haven't a clue.
I'm going to need lots of help."

Shannon glanced at Patricia and they shared a smile, "Well you're in
luck, because that what we're here for."

**********

Donna stood alone in the bathroom and looked at herself in the large
mirror. They'd been at it all afternoon, brainstorming ideas and then
trying them out, discarding the ones that didn't work and refining the
ones that did. The large suitcases that Patricia and Shannon had
brought with them contained a treasure trove of make-up, wigs and
accessories that would have made even the fictional "Sydney Bristow"
envious. They explained that their kits were only samples and that
after taking some measurements, a final set of contact lenses,
make-up, wigs and accessories would be sent over to her before she
left the Residence. And as Donna looked at herself in the mirror she
now thought that all their hard work might not have been in vain. Even
she didn't recognize the reflection of the woman in the mirror.

First, they'd worked with her eye color, trying out different colors
and shades of contact lenses until they'd settled on the soft hazel
she was now wearing.  While they were comfortable enough, she didn't
know if she would ever get used to sticking her finger in her eye.

Next they'd brought out a sunless-tanning cream to help hide her
alabaster skin.  Not a lot of color, not even enough to say she had a
tan.  Just a hint of color to hide her normally pale skin tone.  It
would need to be reapplied about once a month on all areas that she
thought might be left exposed by her clothing. So that meant her lower
legs and feet, her arms, her upper chest and neck and face. Rather
than trying to be selective about where it went, Donna had decided to
put it everywhere except for the 'bikini lines' caused by keeping her
underwear and bra on. After removing her sling, she and Zoey had gone
into the bathroom where Zoey helped her get it on the areas she
couldn't reach because of her arm. Once it had settled into her skin,
it had added just a little bit of a glow that Donna actually kind of
liked.

Once they'd had her 'new' skin tone down, they'd done her make-up,
more to hide the bruises on her face and neck than anything else at
that point. Using a special kind of cover-up concealer the marks had
been temporarily but efficiently erased. Although since she'd never
worn much make-up and the amount of make-up they'd used was pretty
extensive and yet still looked fairly natural, it had changed her
appearance just a little bit more. They'd shown her how to apply the
make-up to subtly hide her old attributes and how to use it to punch
up new ones. It wasn't that she minded the putting on or the wearing
of make-up. It was the taking off part that she hated.  And she was
going to have to lay in a large supply of cold cream and make-up
remover because the amount of make-up they were suggesting was going
to need almost as much work to take off as it would to put on.

Then they'd moved onto her hair. Donna had debated about just coloring
it, rather than having to deal with a wig, but since they were
planning on a fairly drastic color change, she found that she just
couldn't do it.  She did however, allow Patricia, whom she'd found out
had originally been a make-up artist in Hollywood and a licensed
beautician before being snapped up by the US Marshall's office for
work of this type, to cut it. It would be easier to hide under a wig
if it was shorter, Donna had reasoned. Now, it was cut in a jaw length
bob and all she had to do to hide it under her wig was lean her head
back and put on a kind of modified hair net.

While her own hair had been a fairly simple decision, deciding on her
wig style had been fairly complicated.  Long, medium, or short. Black,
brown or red. Straight, curly or slightly wavy. After trying on so
many wigs she felt like one of those Styrofoam display heads you see
in department stores, they'd all settled on a wig that was medium
length and curly, but not "bad perm" curly, with bangs, in a slightly
mousy, dark shade of brown.  Except for the color and the bangs, both
of which Donna detested, the wig looked a little like how CJ had worn
her hair during the first campaign and in the early days of the
President's first year in office.

At that point, when Donna had modeled the new look for them, they'd
all realized that it still wasn't enough. Well, Zoey's exact words had
been, "The problem is, Sydney, especially with your height, you still
look too much like Donna."

But Shannon and Patricia hadn't depleted their bag of tricks just yet.
They fished out a pair of glasses with fairly thick tortoise shell
colored frames for Donna to wear. They'd helped hide her eyes and a
large part her face even more, but it still wasn't enough.

Then they'd pulled out a partial lower dental plate. It looked a
little like the fake teeth that people use at Halloween to give
themselves fangs or a heavy overbite.  Except this was a dentist
quality plate and it fit over her lower front teeth.  Since Donna had
always had just the touch of overbite, they theorized the partial
plate would make her lower teeth slightly more pronounced, thereby
changing the whole appearance of the alignment of her jaw. After
assuring Donna it was clean and sterilized, they convinced her to
slide it over her lower front teeth. They'd all been amazed at how
much it had changed the look of her face. The only problem was that
even though Patricia and Shannon had taken an impression of her mouth
so that a custom dental plate could be made that would fit as well as
possible, she mostly likely wouldn't be able to ingest anything more
than liquids with it in. So basically that meant she couldn't eat
anything while she was wearing her disguise.

They also took impressions of the roof of her mouth so they could have
a small plastic plate made that would slightly change the way she
would talk.

Of course, Zoey had been on a roll and at that point had said, "While
Sydney's head no longer looks like Donna, her body still does." Donna
loved Zoey like a little sister but by that time she'd been ready to
tell her where she could stick her 'Sydney looks too much like Donna'
comments.

And so Shannon and Patricia had come to the last trick in there
suitcases of fun. Padded undergarments. Kind of like a padded bra for
her body. Actually it was kind of a one piece body suit that she would
wear under her clothes.  It would make her go from being a size 4 to a
size 8-10. And yes, it included a heavily padded built-in bra that
made her go from a B cup to a D cup. She was hot and uncomfortable,
her arm hurt from being out of its sling and she felt like she was
wrapped in pillows. They brought along one set of clothing, consisting
of loose-fitting black pants and a long, loose black blouse covered in
small burgundy flowers, that would be big enough for her to wear over
her 'new body' but, they explained, getting the rest of her new
wardrobe would be her responsibility. Yeah, because she wanted to shop
for clothes that were 4 sizes too big for her.

Donna brushed some of the wig hair out of her face as she stared at
her reflection. A reflection of a stranger. Stripped of everything,
figuratively and literally, that she'd made of herself since she'd
left Dr. Freeride. Since she'd grabbed hold of her life and finally
made it her own. Life had once again conspired to make her nothing and
no one. To make her less than she was. To make her have to lie about
who she was. So now she was plain. Where Donna had always had a
distinctive look to her face, 'Sydney' was somewhat bland, slightly
frumpy and definitely non-descript, which was exactly the look they
were going for. No one would look too closely at her or remember her
too much.

Her mother would have been so proud. It was just what she'd always wanted.

Part of her was sobbing for the loss but there was no vent for the
tears. No release. No peace. Just her, alone, standing dry-eyed in
front of a mirror she wanted to smash with her bare hands so she
didn't have to look at the person she'd been forced to become.

'But...' she thought. 'Everyone seems to have decided that this is the
right thing to do and I always do what I'm told, right?' Even if it
killed her spirit. She had to die to live. She almost laughed at that.
Not the funny kind of laughter but the kind that once you started you
almost always disintegrated into tears. So instead of laughing or
crying, she simply took a deep breath, straightened her new blouse and
opened the bathroom door for the unveiling.

"Oh, Don...I mean Sydney. You look amazing!" Zoey exclaimed.  You look
nothing like Donna. No one is going to recognize you.  I bet even Josh
wouldn't know you."

For some reason the thought that even Josh wouldn't be able to tell it
was her made Donna want to cry more than anything else had. She
blinked and smiled as best she could instead. "Thanks, Zoey," she
typed.

**********

"Well, I think she's going to like it," CJ said, as she and Josh drove
back to the White House. "I just can't believe we found it the first
day. I was sure it was going to take us the rest of the week to find
her a place.  Especially in Georgetown and for the price range we were
looking for."

Josh glanced at her from the driver's seat, "Yeah.  I was kind of
surprised too.  But it sure is a nice building. Underground parking,
full security, central heating and air. They even allow pets. Not that
Donna has any but she could have one if she wanted to. She's even
closer to the White House than I am. The apartment is a little small
but for one person it's fine and Donna will like the hardwood floors,"
he said, referring to the one bedroom, one bath, newly renovated unit
they'd looked at. "The landlord and his wife were nice too. Not like
the guy at her old place. And the price was definitely right. If I pay
half, she should be able to swing it." Okay, so he was going to have
to pay a little more than half but it didn't matter to him at that
point.

"Did you already talk to Sam about setting up the dummy corporation to
pay the rent from?" CJ asked him, as he pulled the car to a stop at
the White House gate so they could show their identification.

"Yeah," he said, as the guard released them to drive on.  "Get this,
we decided to call it,  J&S Enterprises, Inc." He couldn't hide a
smirk when he told her.

CJ looked at him for a minute, trying to figure out what 'J&S' stood
for. "As in Josh and Sam Enterprises?"

He grinned at her, "Sam and I are going to be partners in this little
endeavor.  As well as setting up everything, he even put in a little
money to get things started.  He insisted actually.  I think it was a
way for him to feel like he's helping Donna even though he's in
California." He looked at CJ for a second with a frown, "It's not too
easy to figure out is it?" he asked.

"No, Pal O'Mine, not unless you're good at putting two and two
together like I am," she grinned at him.  "Plus the smirk you had when
you said it was kind of a giveaway. I like it. Have you decided how
you're going to tell her about it?"

"Oh, yeah. Sam and I have got it all figured out.  See the apartment
is actually leased to J&S Enterprises, Inc., but we've contracted with
a property management firm to take care of the details. Every month,
J&S Enterprises, Inc. pays the management company, the management
company pays the landlord for the entire rent and then Donna sends
what she thinks is her sublease rent to the property management
company, who sends it to Sam to deposit in our account.  If there are
any issues in the apartment like a leak or some kind of maintenance,
then Donna just calls the landlord."

CJ watched him for a moment as he pulled the car into his assigned space.

"What?" he said, pulling the keys out of the ignition.

"You just continue to amaze me with how sweet you're being about this
whole thing. And she doesn't even know," CJ replied softly.

"And I don't want her to know. It will only mess with her head.  Right
now she's got to focus on getting better." He paused, uncomfortable
with CJ telling him what a great guy he was being.  He wasn't used to
hearing it from her and it was kind of freaking him out.  "Do you have
all the pictures and brochures?" he said, changing the subject as they
climbed out of the car.

They'd actually seen 8 apartments that day but only three were
anywhere close to what they wanted for price, location and friendly
and secure atmosphere. The one they were going to offer as their best
choice, and the one that Josh had already put a deposit on, was the
one bedroom they'd been discussing in the car. He knew what Donna
liked and he knew she would like that one. But he'd promised to let
her choose so he'd made sure they'd taken digital photos of each one
and picked up any brochures or flyers that they offered.

"Got them right here," she said, holding up a manila folder.

"I wonder how things went with the people Mike sent over," he said
being sure to choose his words carefully as they walked toward the
Northwest Lobby. Even more than that, he wondered how she'd fared in
general while he'd been gone. When he'd left her this morning she
didn't seem to be suffering any ill effects from the trauma of the
night before but he was still worried about her. Last night had scared
the shit out of him. As far as he knew, no one but those who had been
present and Leo knew what happened. Although Josh wouldn't be
surprised if the President knew about it as well. Between Leo and
Abbey, one of them would have most likely told him.

"I can't wait to see what they came up with," CJ said, also choosing
her words carefully as they walked inside.

"Yeah, I was kind of wondering that myself." Josh commented. He
couldn't imagine Donna not looking like, well...Donna.  He saw Mike
waiting in the lobby for him. "Hey, Mike."

"Hi, Josh.  Ms. Cregg," he said, nodding toward her.

"Agent Casper," CJ said, with a casual nod.

Mike turned back to him, "Josh, I need to talk to you for a few minutes."

"Sure Mike, why don't we go into my office?"

"Actually Leo asked to be kept informed too so I thought maybe we
could meet in his office so I could tell you both at one.

"Okay." He turned to CJ. "Um..."

"Yeah, I'm going to go and check on...you know and present this
stuff," CJ said, pointing upwards with the file folder of apartment
stuff.

"Okay.  Tell our guest I'll be there in a few minutes," he said.  She
gave them a little wave and headed for the Residence.

"So Mike, any idea how things are going with our guest?" Josh asked
him as they walked toward Leo's office.

"I honestly don't know," Mike told him. "After I took them up there, I
had a meeting with Ron Butterfield at 1 and I had to run back to my
office to take care of something and haven't made it back up there
since. I figured I'd check on them after we get finished." They walked
into the open door into Leo's office.

"Hi, Mike," Leo said, shaking his hand as Josh closed all of Leo's
doors. "Have a seat. So where are we at?"

Mike settled himself in a chair while Josh remained standing. He had
too much energy to sit down. "Well, our profilers believe we're
looking at a new serial killer."

"Why?" Leo asked him.

"Because of what Donna's attacker told Josh," Mike explained. "The
part about her being the first and the fact that he hadn't planned to
strangle her originally, lead us to believe that he is a newly minted
serial killer. We also think there's a high probability that he will
kill again and with the lack of remorse he showed during the cell
call, it will most likely be soon." He paused.  "But we're not
discounting the idea that he's killed before.  We're currently doing a
national search for like crimes.  Serial killers don't always stay in
one place. Often when they feel like they're close to being caught or
they're just ready to see somewhere new they'll move and start killing
in their new location. Then there are also the cases where a serial
killer will go to prison for a while on another charge and then get
out and start killing again. Right now we're looking at all those."

"And you still think Donna's in danger?" Josh asked.

"If he knew she was alive, most definitely.  From the tone of your
conversation with him it sounds like he thinks he's almost on some
kind of holy mission and if he found out she was alive, not only would
she be in danger but the anger it would cause in him would most likely
make him step up his attacks on other women to make up for his earlier
failure."

"And Ron still thinks there could be a threat to the President if it
were found out she was alive?" Leo said.

Mike nodded briskly.  "Just like when Charlie was targeted, Ron feels
that the President could somehow get caught in the crossfire..." Mike
glanced at Josh.  "So to speak...of an attack on Donna. It's the same
reason the President made Ms. Cregg agree to Secret Service
protection. That and the fact that he's very protective of all his
staff. The difference here is that since the killer already thought
she was dead, we felt it the best course of action was to let her
remain dead."

"Yeah, and the President and I agree," Leo had said quietly. "We know
it might be tough but it's going to be necessary for the time being."

The three of them were silent for a moment, until Josh finally spoke.
"Do we really think we're going to be able to hide Donna under
everyone's noses? We have press wandering through the bull pen all the
time. I mean, have you seen Donna?  Tall, beautiful, blonde, Donna?
It's going to be kind of hard to put her in a disguise and pass her
off as my 'new' assistant. About as hard as trying to pass a disguised
CJ off as our 'new' press secretary." Even if it would keep her safe,
Josh hated the thought of making her dress up all the time and pretend
to be someone else.  He knew Donna and knew that would slowly eat at
her. Especially since it wouldn't only be at work.  It would be all
time except when she was at home or at one of their homes where no one
could see her.

"Well, I think we could pull it off.  Ron said that he could put some
Agents on a detail that would keep the press out of the bull pen
unless they were escorted by one of CJ's staff. " He paused.  "About
the only other alternative is to keep her stashed in some safe house
or in the Residence until we catch this guy. But she'd be a virtual
prisoner. Her cell would be terrific but it would still be a cell,"
Mike said.

Somewhere in the back of Josh's mind, a line from a song drifted.  'A
bird in a cage will forget how to sing...if you love me, give me
wings.'

Words tumbled from his mouth before he even realized he was thinking
them. "What if I fired her? Or she quit?  I could send her out to
California. Sam would hire her. I know he would," Josh said.  Leo and
Mike stared at him in surprise. "I mean she'd be safe then, wouldn't
she?"

Of course, he had no idea how he would be able to do it. If he told
her the truth, she would immediately leave, but she would be
devastated that she, through no fault of her own, had been the cause
of a possible threat to the President. If he lied to her to get her to
leave, not only would it be like ripping off every appendage he had to
let her go, but there would be no way he could do it without hurting
her.

"Josh," Mike said, quietly. "It's very likely that it wouldn't make a
difference. If she went out to California as Donna Moss, someone in
the press would most likely find out and her secret would be found out
anyway and there's no reason to believe that he wouldn't just get on a
plane and fly out to California and finish the job." He paused.  "Like
I said, it's not forever. We only need her to wear a disguise until we
can catch him."

"I guess there's really no other choice then," Josh replied, softly.

"Unfortunately, for now, this is the way it has to be," Mike said.

"Okay Mike. Thanks for the update.  Keep us posted," Leo said, rising
and reaching out to shake his hand.

Mike rose and shook Leo's hand. "I will." He and Josh turned to head
for the door. "Oh, Josh. I'm going to be here tomorrow to interview
Donna and..."

"Wait...what?" Josh demanded.

"I said I'm going to be here tomorrow to interview Donna," Mike repeated.

"When did you set that up?"

Mike was a little taken aback by Josh's apparent anger. "This morning
when I dropped off Shannon and Patricia. Why? Is there a problem?"

"Yeah, there's a problem. I'm not sure she's ready," Josh said.

"Why isn't she ready?  She seemed okay this morning," Mike replied.

The image of Donna curled up on the bathroom floor flashed through his
mind. There was no way he was telling Mike about that, no matter how
good a friend he was.  "She still has some issues with the attack."

"Like what?"

"Just issues, Mike. If you'd been through what she'd been through
you'd have issues, too. Look she can't even remember that night.  She
said it's a blank."

Mike kept his cool in the face of Josh's defensiveness.  He knew Josh
was only doing it out of concern for Donna. "Yes, but like I told her,
sometimes talking something out can help you remember."

"Yeah, but she can't even talk yet! The doctor said she shouldn't
until the end of the week." He was quickly running out of arguments.

"She seemed to be using the phone to communicate pretty well this
morning," Mike replied.

"But..." He had nothing else. "Fine, then I want to be there when you
talk to her."

"That's fine.  I told her we'd do it her room in the Residence and she
could have anyone there she wanted to. I'm not the bad guy here, Josh.
I want this process to be a painless as possible for her."

He sighed. "I know, Mike.  Sorry.  Okay," Josh conceded. "What time?"

"10 a.m.," Mike said. "And remember, I'm also going to need to take
your statement, Josh. You talked to the caller before the recording
began.  You might be able to provide some details from that part of
the conversation that might help us."

"Yeah, I know.  How about if we do right after your talk with Donna tomorrow?"

"That works fine for me.  We can talk in your office," Mike replied.

"Um, Mike, Donna doesn't really know the details of what the caller
told me, do you think we could keep it that way?" Josh asked him. He
didn't want Donna to hear any more than she needed to.

"Sure, I think that can be arranged."

Leo, who'd been sitting in his chair, watching the exchange between
the two of them silently, slid his glasses on. "Well, now that you've
both got that settled, get out of my office.  I've got things to do."

Josh pulled the door open and he and Mike went out into hall. "I'm
going to go check on our guest. Are you coming?" Mike asked him.

"Yeah, in a second.  I have to just check for a thing in my office,"
he replied. Sam had promised to fax the J&S incorporation papers to
him this afternoon. Hopefully he could sign them and send them back
off to him.  "I'll be up in a minute."

**********

CJ got to the top of the stairs and had started down the hall when she
ran into Abbey. "Hello, Mrs. Bartlet."

"Hello, Claudia Jean. You're looking well."

"I am, ma'am, thank you. How did your luncheon go today?" she asked as
they continued walking down the hall.

"Very well, I think. We had chicken salad with papaya, sorbet for
dessert and I didn't embarrass myself or the President during the
speech I made. I count that as a success."

CJ smiled, "Sounds like it to me."

"So I'm guessing we're headed to the same destination."

CJ smiled.  "Yeah, Josh and I found her a great apartment and I wanted
to show it to her."

Abbey smiled back, "So the fact that she and Zoey and the people that
Mike Casper sent over have been working all afternoon on a new look
for Donna didn't play into your decision to come up here at all?"

"Well, maybe just a little bit," CJ admitted with a grin as they got
to Donna's door. Abbey knocked and they heard Zoey tell them to come
in. Abbey opened the door and the two of them stepped inside. Zoey was
sitting on one of the chairs and three women she was unfamiliar with
were sitting on the couch.

"Zoey, where's Donna?  Is she in the bathroom?" Abbey asked, referring
to the fact that the bathroom door was closed.

Zoey paused a moment, then nodded, "Ah, yeah. Donna's in the bathroom."

"Well, then why don't you introduce CJ and me to our guests?" she said.

"Oh, sure.  Ladies, this is my mother and the First Lady, Abigail
Bartlet and CJ Cregg the White House Press Secretary. Mom, CJ. This is
Deputy Patricia Taylor from the US Marshall's office." The two women
shook hands.  "This is Deputy Sydney Collins, also from the US
Marshall's office." Abbey shook the young woman's hand. "And this is
Special Agent Shannon James from the FBI." Abbey shook her hand.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you ladies.  How's it been going?  Did
you have any luck with finding Donna a proper disguise?"

The three women sitting on the couch nodded.  "Oh, I think we finally
came up with something that will work, Mrs. Bartlet," Shannon replied.

"Yeah, Mom.  I bet you won't even recognize her. Oh, and we're not
calling her Donna any more."

CJ frowned, "What else would we call her?"

"Oh, we're calling her by the new name she settled on. We figured it
would help her get used to people calling her by it," Patricia
replied.

"What name did she pick?" Abbey asked. Zoey and the three women on the
couch looked at each other. "Zoey?" Abbey paused a minute to look at
her daughter.  Something was up. "What name did Donna pick?"

Zoey grinned, "Sydney Collins."

"Oh, Sid..." Abbey and CJ got it at the exact same moment, their eyes
whipping back to the couch.

"DONNA?!" They both exclaimed together. "Sydney" nodded with just the
hint of a smile.

"Oh, my God!" CJ said with a laugh. "You look amazing.  I didn't even
recognize you!"

"So who's in the bathroom?" Abbey asked.

"No one.  We just closed the door to throw people off," Zoey replied.

"Very sneaky. Well, Donna, I mean Sydney, stand up so we can see you,"
Abbey told her.

Donna did as they asked and came around the coffee table so they could
see her completely. "That's incredible," Abbey said, flabbergasted.
"You guys outdid yourselves.  She's completely different."

Everyone swarmed around her commenting on everything from her hair to
her eyes to her teeth to the fact that she looked like she'd been
pounding down 50 hamburgers a day for the last six months. Donna felt
a little like a race horse or a fatted calf being looked over before
being put up for sale. She also didn't like so many people in such
close proximity. Nor did she like the fact they were all touching her.
 Lightly and gently touching her hair, her shoulder, her arm, which
still hurt, but touching her nonetheless. She started to feel the
panic rise in her just a little bit. She needed to get away for a
minute to get herself under control.

Pulling the phone out of her pocket she jotted down a quick message.
"Need to use the restroom." Then she tried to move as quickly as she
could without drawing their suspicion. As she opened the bedroom door,
the five women were still chatting and remarking just how great Donna
looked so she supposed she done a good job of hiding her panic.

Closing the door, she leaned against it.  Looking up, she was facing
the mirror and saw the hated reflection again. Changing positions, she
leaned against one of the side walls where her field of vision didn't
include a reflective surface.  Rubbing sore her arm absently, Donna
wished for her sling but it was in the other room and she wasn't ready
to go out there yet. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she brought her
rapidly beating heart under control.

So even CJ and Mrs. Bartlet hadn't recognized her. That was kind of
interesting. Now that she was calmer, she stood up and walked over to
the mirror. As she stood and looked at "Sydney" something occurred to
her. Sydney was a blank slate, she could make her be whatever she
wanted. After all, she'd taken drama in college. This could be her
greatest part yet. Since it apparently didn't matter if she hated
having to be someone else or not, she might as well make the best of
it. Hadn't that been what she'd done her entire life?  Taken a bad
situation and made the best of it? If she'd let her, Sydney could be
her shield. Sydney wouldn't be scared to be around a large group of
people. Sydney didn't have bruises or burns or scars. Sydney wasn't
almost strangled to death. Sydney wasn't raped. Sydney didn't have
holes in her memory or nutties on the bathroom floor.

Sydney wasn't dead.

Yes, Donna realized, that was a very interesting thought.

**********

Josh, his mind still on Donna and his conversation with Mike, walked
through the lobby and into the bullpen. "Hey, Josh. There's
someone...." Ryan began.

"Not now, Pest Boy. I've got something to do," he said, moving to his
closed office door.

"Okay..." Ryan said, turning to go in the other direction.

Josh opened the door and stepped inside. And stopped dead in his
tracks. It wasn't often that he entered his office to find an
incredibly shiny pair of black dress shoes, black dress socks and
black pant legs propped up on his desk. The identity of the owner of
said pants and shoes was hidden behind an open newspaper. "Um...can I
help you?" Josh had a feeling this is what Ryan had been trying to
tell him when he walked through the bullpen.

The owner leaned forward and laid the still open paper down on Josh's
desk, "Actually, I thought a better question might be, can I help
you?"

"SAM!" Josh cried, slamming the door and rushing over to his friend.
Sam grinned and stood up to embrace Josh as he came across the room.
"What are you doing here?" Josh asked him as they separated. Courtesy
of the President, Sam still had his White House credentials so he
could pretty much come and go as he pleased.

"Well, funny thing," Sam said, sitting down on the corner of the desk.
"I was about to fax you these incorporation papers for J&S
Enterprises, Inc., which by the way I think would still sound better
if we called it S&J Enterprises, when my fax machine apparently
stopped working. So I figured I had three choices.  One, I could call
a repairman. He'd take his own sweet time getting there, which would
of course delay me getting these documents to you. Two, I could try
and fix the machine myself and probably end up electrocuting myself.
Or three, I could deliver them in person.  Did you know that LAX has
non-stop flights about every hour from LA to National and Dulles?"

Josh smiled, "You know you're forgetting your other choice?"

"What's that?" Sam asked him.

"You could have found the nearest Kinko's and used their fax," Josh
said with a smirk.

"Okay, so four choices, something to remember for next time. But since
I'm here and everything, why don't you sign these so it won't be a
completely wasted trip," he said with a smirk of his own as he handed
Josh a file containing all the paperwork to start J&S Enterprises,
Inc.

Josh took the folder and clapped Sam on the shoulder.  "It's never a
wasted trip when we get to see you Sam," he said, sitting down in his
chair. "You look good.  Tan. Apparently California agrees with you."

Sam sighed a bit, "Yeah, I guess. I'm just not sure that I agree with
California.  Josh?  What do you think about me moving my law practice
to DC?"

Josh leaned back in his chair and grinned.  "I think it's a great
idea. We could hang out again. I know Toby and CJ would love to see
you again. We've sure missed you around here."

"Yeah, well, I've been giving it some serious thought.  California's
great and all, but I love D.C. All my friends are here and all I have
there are my constantly fighting parents."

"Well, then I think you should do it."

"Thanks for the input.  I've a couple of loose ends to tie up before I
pull up stakes completely but I wanted to get your opinion before I
jumped in with both feet." He paused.  "So how's Donna?"

"She's doing okay. Actually, I was on my way up to see her. I came
here to see if your fax had come through first. I was going to sign
the papers and send them back to you. But since you're here I'll do it
right now," Josh replied.  Pulling out a pen he scribbled his name
next to Sam's in all the areas he'd marked." Stuffing the papers back
in the folder he handed it to Sam. "Thanks for your help with this
Sam."

"No, problem. What are friends for? I know if I ever needed help you
guys would all be there for me."

"You know we would, man.  Just say the word.  So how long are you
staying?" Josh asked him.

"I have a court date in two weeks that I can't miss but other than
that I can hang around."

"You want to crash at my place?  I've got an empty guest room that you
could use," Josh told him.

"That would be great," Sam told him.  "But I want to earn my keep, so
is there anything you or Donna need help with?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, CJ and I just found Donna a new
apartment but I don't know where I'm going to find the time to get the
things from her old place cleaned, packed up and moved over there by
the end of the week."

"Say no more.  I'll take care of it," Sam told him.

"Really? Thanks, Sam. You're a life saver.  I figured I could help you
move the big things on Saturday. Although I think the only big things
she has are her couch, TV and a small desk. I was planning on buying
her a new bed and new bedroom furniture so her new bedroom
is....different than the old one."

"Yeah," Sam replied, understanding what Josh meant. "Have you picked
out the stuff for the bedroom yet?"

Josh rubbed a hand over his face.  "Nope, between regular work and
Donna, I've been a little too busy to go furniture shopping.  Actually
I was hoping to delegate it to CJ."

"That'll go over real big," Sam told him. "Why don't you save yourself
from the beating she'd give you and let me take care of it? I've got
better taste than you or CJ anyway. Just tell me what pieces I need to
get."

"Well, her new bedroom isn't that big so I guess a queen sized bed, a
dresser and maybe a couple of small night stands and lamps," Josh
counted off.

"Tell you what. I'll get the papers for J&S Enterprises, Inc. going
and then I'll take care of all the new apartment and old apartment
stuff."

"Great, Sam.  I can't tell you how glad I am to see you," Josh told
his long time friend. "Why don't you and I go up and see Donna right
now?" he said, getting up out of his chair. "They've been working all
afternoon to put together a disguise for her to wear until they catch
the guy. It should be interesting to see what they've come up with."

**********

"I'm telling you Abbey, there's no way he's going to recognize her,"
CJ told her. "Agent Casper didn't recognize her and he works for the
FBI." She said, pointing to Mike, who was talking to Shannon about
something.

Abbey looked at her for a minute, then she looked over at "Sydney" who
was sitting on the couch, text messaging Zoey. Abbey had seen some
interesting sides of the Josh and Donna dynamic in the last few days.
"I'll bet you $20 that he does."

CJ held her hand out, "Deal."

**********

"So where's Toby today?" Sam asked Josh as they walked down the hall
to Donna's room.

"Oh, Leo sent him and Angela Blake up to the Hill to meet with Senator Leeds."

"Why didn't you go?" Sam asked.

"Well, I wish I could say it was because I was out apartment shopping
with CJ but the real reason is that Leo and I are having issues."

"Still?" Sam said. "I thought you'd worked that all out?"

"Angela Blake's still here, isn't she?"

"Well, yeah, but..." Sam began.

"If she's still here then Leo and I still have issues," Josh
explained. "I have an issue with him because he brought her here and
he has an issue with me because he felt that he HAD to bring her
here."

"Ah, I see," Sam said, as they got to Donna's closed bedroom door.
They could hear voices coming from inside.

"Hey, Sam.  Stay out here a second, I want to surprise them," Josh
whispered.  Sam nodded and with a smile, pressed himself up against
the hallway wall so they wouldn't be able to see him.  Josh knocked on
the door.  He heard someone, he thought it was CJ, yell, "Who is it?"

"It's Josh." Judging from what he could hear through the door, the
volume and activity level in the room seemed to go up sharply. "Come
in," the voice yelled.

Josh turned the knob and opened the door. He was greeted by a room
full of people, which surprised him because Donna had seemed
uncomfortable around large groups of people since the attack.  Mike
Casper stood just off to Josh's right while all the women in the room,
all 6 of them, stood casually along one wall. The hairs on the back of
Josh's neck prickled ever so slightly. "What's going on ladies?"

"We've got a question for you Josh," CJ told him. The look on her face
told him that something was definitely up. "O...kay. Um, before you do
though I have a surprise for you all." He motioned to his partner in
crime who stepped into the doorway.

"SAM!" CJ, Abbey and Zoey chorused. Although Donna was happy to see
him too, she knew what would come after they greetings were over, so
forced herself to remain still and silent. CJ and Zoey started to move
over to Sam, but Abbey stopped them. "Wait. Let's finish what we
started here. Since Sam's here, let's ask him first, he'll be nice and
impartial."  Abbey looked at him. "Sam, one of the women in this room
is Donna Moss in disguise.  Can you tell us who she is?"

Sam looked carefully around the room at each of the woman that he
didn't recognize.  "No. Wow, that's scary, I can't tell which one is
Donna.  None of them look like her."

CJ smirked, "Josh. What about you? Do you know which one is Donna?"

"Of course I do, CJ."

She'd played poker with Josh enough to know when to suspect when he
was bluffing. 'Well, which one is she?"

Without a moments hesitation, he replied.  "The one with the brown
curly hair, the glasses, the black pants, the flowered shirt and the
extra thirty pounds."

Abbey looked at CJ, who was gaping like a fish, and smirked, "I
believe that's $20 you own me, Claudia Jean." Abbey said, holding out
her hand.

CJ slapped the money into Abbey's hand. "Josh? How could you know
that?  None of us knew that, not even Mike and Abbey."  Her eyes
narrowed.  "You didn't cheat did you?"

Josh smirked at her CJ and walked over to Donna.  "I didn't need to
cheat, CJ. I know Donna." 'My Donnatella,' he thought, as he reached
up and carefully pulled off her glasses.  "Just because you give her
colored contacts doesn't mean you change the shape of her eyes. And
just because you give her fake hair, doesn't mean you've changed the
way she cocks her head slightly when she's waiting for the answer to
something." He stopped there. What he wasn't saying was that he knew
everything about her. He knew her perfume. The planes and angles of
the smooth column of her throat. After all, it was the largest piece
of skin, besides her legs that she ever shown at work, and really the
only thing he'd been to ogle with any regularity. The way she chewed
her lip slightly when she was nervous. The way her smile would dance
when she grinned widely. The soft touch of her hand on his skin. He
even knew her in the dark. There had been many a night during his
recovery from Rosslyn where she had soothed him back to sleep after a
nightmare and that just wasn't something you forgot.

As Donna watched him, part of her was weeping with relief.  If Josh
knew the truth, then that was all that mattered.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 13 - MATURE



"Well, Sydney," Shannon said. "It looks like we've come up with a
pretty good disguise for you.  What do you think?"

"You did a great job," Donna typed.

"Wait.  What did you call her?" Josh asked.

"Sydney.  It's her new name.  Sydney Collins."

"Sydney Collins?" he said.

"I picked it out for my alter ego. I thought 'Barbara Gordon' was too
clich‚. Do you like it?" Donna typed.

He leaned in a bit and bumped the shoulder of her uninjured arm.  "I
like Donnatella Moss better." He paused. "But Sydney Collins will do
for now." Donna's eyes smiled back at him.

"Sydney, Patricia and I have to get going." Shannon told her. "But
before we go, we'll need everything back but the outfit, the glasses
and your contacts. Those you can keep.  We took all your measurements
so we'll send you the customized versions of everything else in the
next couple of days.

"Okay, well I guess I'll go in the bathroom and change," Donna typed out.

She moved to the dresser to grab a clean set of her own clothes. Josh
followed her over. "You okay?" he asked quietly. Even under all the
make-up and the disguise, he thought she looked tired and there was a
touch of sadness in her eyes.  Donna nodded in response to his
question. "Do you want me to clear everyone out of here?"

Donna pulled out her phone. "Would you mind?" she typed, grateful
relief clearly in her eyes.

"Not at all," he replied with a gentle smile.

"Let me just get all this stuff off so Shannon and Patricia can leave.
Then I'd like to take a shower, but could you and Sam stay?"

"Sure," he told her softly. "It's almost dinner time, are you hungry?
Do you want me to have something sent up to eat?"

"I'd love some more of that broccoli soup and maybe some crackers,"
she typed in reply. "I didn't have much time for lunch.  Just a half a
bagel left over from breakfast so I could take my pills. Get whatever
you want for you and Sam."

"Okay," Josh said with a nod.  "I'll take care of it. Do you need some
help waterproofing your bandage?"

"No, I've got all the stuff in the bathroom.  I can do it myself. But
I'll need help getting my sling back on."

"Kay. I'll help you with it when you're ready," he replied, as he
watched her walk into the bathroom. He noticed then that she was
holding her injured arm fairly close to her body and he imagined it
was bothering her some.  He made a mental note to get some Advil out
for her to take with her dinner medication.

On Donna's way to the bathroom, Patricia handed her a black canvas
bag. "Just put everything in here, Sydney," she told her.  Since they
were demos and samples, Donna knew they would all have to be cleaned
and washed before going back into their cases. With a nod, Donna took
it and continued on into the bathroom.

Closing the door behind her, she let out a breath. Well, it hadn't
been so bad facing all those people when she'd done it as 'Sydney' but
she was still glad they would be gone shortly. And the way Josh had
looked at her when he'd recognized her and gently pulled off her
glasses had made it all worth while. Removing her new clothes, she
peeled off the padded body suit. She immediately felt lighter and less
like she was being slowly suffocated. But she also felt a slight
chill. The body suit had made her sweat a bit and the air was a little
cool in the bathroom against her bare skin.  She was really looking
forward to a long, hot shower. Her long terrycloth robe was hanging on
the back of the bathroom door and sliding into it, she tied it
securely. The action made her elbow twinge for what felt like the
hundredth time that day. Pulling out the dental plate she slid it into
a small plastic pouch and dropped it into the bag and placed the wig
and the hair net on top of it. Then she took out the small case and
solution they'd given her and she carefully removed her contact
lenses.

Blinking she looked into the mirror. Now she just looked like Donna
with a LOT of make-up on. But she had to admit she kind of liked her
hair in its new, shorter style.  It was different and she supposed
would be a little quicker to fix in the morning. Picking up the bag
she walked to the bathroom door and opened it. Abbey and Zoey were
gone but CJ, Mike, Patricia, Shannon, Sam and Josh were still there
chatting.  No longer able to hide behind 'Sydney,' her panic at seeing
so many people returned.  Her heartbeat and her breathing began to
pick up speed. Stopping at the bathroom threshold, she couldn't even
step into the room. She held the bag out and Patricia came over to
retrieve it.

"Thank you," Donna mouthed to her. Her panic was gaining a real
foothold now and she had to force herself not to jump farther back
into the bathroom and slam the door.

Patricia smiled back. "You're welcome.  Shannon and I left our cards
over on the dresser for you. Call us if you have any questions. Oh,
and here," she said, holding out a small packet. Donna took it and
looked at her curiously. "They're a pack of make-up cleansing cloths.
I figured you might want to use them to take your make-up off."

'Hold it, together, Donna,' she told herself. 'Just nod and pretend
you're fine.' So she nodded and mouthed her thanks again. As she
stepped back to close the bathroom door, her eyes flashed to Josh. The
frown that she saw on his face told her that it was unlikely he'd
missed her mounting panic attack. Closing the door with a little more
force than she'd intended she leaned up against it and tried to calm
down.

A gentle knock sounded behind her.  "Donna?  Donna, it's Josh.  Can I
come in for just a second?" he asked calmly through the door.

Pressing her hand to her heart, she shoved down the remainder of her
panic. Turning, she stayed behind the door as she opened it for him.

When he'd seen the 'hunted deer' look in Donna's eyes as she'd closed
the door, Josh had excused himself from Sam and CJ and been across the
room in a couple of steps. He was a little surprised when she opened
the door for him so quickly but he didn't question it as he stepped
inside and closed the door behind him. She was leaning against the
wall and although she looked carefully neutral and in control, he
could tell her breathing was just a little fast. Under all that
make-up he would be willing to bet she was just a bit too pale. "You
okay?" She nodded. "'Cause it's all right if you got a little...you
know.  There were a lot of people out there," he said.

She padded over to where she'd left her pants and pulled her phone out
of the pocket. "I'm okay. I was just a little...overwhelmed. It's been
kind of a big day."

"I bet," he said, leaning up against the opposite wall. "I'm sorry you
have to, you know...go through all the disguises and stuff," he told
her. "It must be a big hassle."

"It's okay. It's just going to take some getting used to," she typed,
trying to reassure him. She'd calmed down by then and was feeling
better.

He slid his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, I guess.  But I'm still sorry
about it."

"Thanks." Smiling lopsidedly, she typed the next part. "At least
you'll know who I am." She expected him to smile and make some cute
remark but he just looked at her a moment, an unreadable expression on
his face.

"You'll never have to worry about that, Donnatella. I'll always know
who you are."

A trickle of emotion, warm and comforting, managed to flow into the
numb part of her soul.

"You cut your hair," he said, giving it a once over.

"Do you like it?" she asked him, her fingers playing over the ends
where they brushed against her neck.

"Yeah. It's cute. But I'm glad you went with the wig and didn't color
it. I was hoping you wouldn't," he told her.  'It would have been a
crime to color something already so beautiful,' he added silently.

"Well, I thought about it. In some ways it would have been easier and
definitely cooler than a wig but, in the end, I just couldn't do it,"
she typed to him, quietly pleased that he liked her choice.  She
rubbed her arm absently.

"Is your arm bothering you?" he asked.

"Yes, now I see why I'm supposed to be keeping it in the sling."

"Dr. Holden will be so glad the years she spent in medical school
weren't in vain," he teased her gently.

Donna rolled her eyes. "You pick NOW to snark me?" she typed. But
there was a smile in her eyes now to replace the earlier panic.

He grinned back at her. "Well, you kind of walked right into that
one." Then he sobered a bit. "We'll get it back on you as soon as your
shower's done. I've already put out a couple of Advil to take with
your dinner medication," he told her. "Speaking of which, I better get
out of here or you'll never get finished. I asked Abbey about getting
you some dinner.  She's going to have it sent up. She said since Sam
was visiting and I've been behaving myself she'd have the stewards
throw on some bread and water for us." Happy now that he could tell
she was over her panic attack, he smiled at her and moved to the door.
The touch of Donna's hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned back
to her.

"Thank you," she mouthed to him.

"You're welcome. Now hop in the shower so we can get that sling back
on your arm," he replied.  Pulling the door open, he slipped back out
into the bedroom and closed the door. Shannon and Patricia were gone
but Mike was waiting for him.

"Everything all right?" Mike asked him.

"Yeah.  Everything's fine. Why?" Josh replied as he heard the shower
come on. "I just needed to talk to her about a thing." At least he
wasn't lying.  He just wasn't saying 'what' thing.

"Oh," he said, in a tone that clearly said he knew Josh was hedging,
if not completely lying. But he let it go.  "Well, I just wanted to
wait and make sure there was no problem about tomorrow's interview."

"Nope," Josh told him. "I'll meet you in the lobby about 9:45 and we
can come up here."

"Okay, sounds good.  I'll see you then," Mike said. "It was good to
see you both again," he said to CJ and Sam.

"You too, Agent Casper," they both replied, as Mike walked out of the room.

"What's this about an interview?" Sam asked him.

Josh let out a sigh. "Since Donna's a federal employee but the crime
happened in DC, the investigation is a joint one between the DC police
and the FBI. They need to take down Donna's statement about her
attack. And Mike got the DC police to let him do it because we thought
she would be more comfortable talking to someone she knows," Josh
explained.

"Does she need counsel?"

"No, Sam, it's not like that, she's just going to tell Mike that she
can't remember anything because she doesn't." He paused, "Besides, I'm
a lawyer too, remember?" Sam and CJ looked at each other and then back
at Josh. Both had quizzical expressions and half smirks on their
faces.

"What?! I am!" When they only continued to stare at him, he ran a hand
over his face. "I'll ask her if she wants you there, Sam.  Right now
it's just going to be me, her and Mike.  After she gets done it's my
turn."

"Because the killer called you?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. They want to know everything he said before Ron Butterfield
started recording the call."

"So now that Mike's gone, how is she really doing?" CJ asked him.

He looked back toward the door and the sound of the still running
shower.  "She's okay. Ever since the thing, she gets a little panicked
around large groups of people in one room. I think part of it is
because she's injured and doesn't want to appear weak."

"I didn't know," CJ said. The three of them stood there for a minute,
each thinking about their injured friend. "She seemed okay, earlier.
When she was in her disguise."

Josh shrugged. "Maybe it just built up and came to a head about the
time she went into the bathroom, I don't know. Oh, Sam, when you see
her, be sure you move slowly around her. She gets startled really
easily and she's got a thing about being touched. So ask her if it's
okay before you try and hug her or anything."

"Sure," Sam replied.

"I didn't have a chance to talk to her about the apartment," CJ told him.

"That's okay, I can tell her during dinner."

"Good. Well, I've gotta go. I need to talk to Leo about a couple of
things. Here's the folder with all the apartment stuff in it," she
said, handing it to him.

"Thanks for all your help today, CJ."

"No, problem, mi amore." She turned to Sam.  "Sparky, it's damn good
to see you.  I can't wait to see the look on Toby's face when he finds
out you're here."

Sam grinned, "I'll be down after dinner to see him."

"All right.  See you later," she called as she headed downstairs.

When Donna finally emerged from the bathroom, Josh and Sam were
sitting on the couch talking about California and Sam moving back to
DC. It had taken her a while, and a couple of breaks to stop and rest,
but she'd managed to dry herself off and get dressed on her own. Now
wearing lightweight cotton drawstring pants and a sleeveless
turtleneck she felt much more comfortable, in more ways than one. Now
that she'd stripped away the last of the disguise, she felt clean
again and more like herself. And with only Josh and Sam in the room
she wasn't feeling the sense of panic she'd had before.

Sam and Josh stood as she entered the room.  Automatically, Josh
walked over the bed and picked up her sling. Sliding one strap over
her head, he gently settled her arm inside it and fastened the other
strap. "Better?" he asked her. She nodded. "Good.  Dinner just got
here," he said. Referring to the large loaded serving cart that was
sitting near the table. "Why don't you and Sam have a seat? I'll get
your medication." Donna nodded and moved toward the table.

Sam felt an almost physical punch at seeing Donna's appearance and he
hoped he was hiding it well. When she'd been wearing her disguise
she'd covered the bruises with make-up but now she was fresh faced and
the bruises stood out vividly against her skin. Josh hadn't been
overstating the number of bruises on her face and down toward her
neck.  Although the neck of her shirt hid them fairly well, it wasn't
hard to imagine what the marks there looked like as well.

Recovering smoothly, Sam moved to pull out Donna's chair,
"Mademoiselle, your table is ready." Donna smiled slightly and sat
down in her chair and let Sam help her push it in. He pulled the soup
off the cart and put a steaming bowl in front of each of their places.
As Josh turned to  walk over to the table, medicine cup and glass of
water in hand, Sam took a seat on Donna's left. As he turned to reach
for his napkin, he felt Donna's hand on his arm. He looked up at her
and saw she was holding out her phone to him. For a second he wondered
why, since he didn't need to make a call or anything but then he
remembered that Josh said she was using her phone to communicate
because she couldn't talk. He looked at the display.

"I'm so glad to see you, Sam. We've missed you. I'm sorry I didn't
greet you earlier but I want to tip Josh off that it was me," she'd
explained.

Sam smiled at her thoughtfulness. "No problem.  I would have felt
terrible if I'd blown your cover." She started to pull her hand away,
"Donna?" She turned back expectantly. "Can I?" he said, indicating her
hand which was still lying on the table.  She nodded and he clasped it
gently in his. "I'm glad to see you too and if there's anything,
anything at all I can do for you, just say the word." He gave her hand
a final squeeze and released it as Josh walked up beside her.

"Here you go, Donna," Josh said, depositing the items he'd brought on
the table for her.

She nodded her thanks to Josh, who plopped down in the chair to her
right. She turned back to Sam and held out her phone. "Thanks, Sam.
That means a lot."

"Hey Donna," Josh said, taking the first spoonful of his soup.  "Did
Sam tell you that he's thinking of moving his law practice from
California to D.C.?

"No, he didn't. Really, Sam?" she typed.  Picking up the glass of
water she started to take her medication.

He grinned, "Yeah, I've been thinking about it for a while and I was
talking to Josh and thought it was a good idea too."

"That's so great.  I'll have to remember to lock up all the matches
and kerosene," she typed.

"You know, I swear, Josh, we are NEVER going to live that down," Sam said.

Josh grinned, "You're telling me. Their memories have gotten better
since you've been away.  When you were here they were able to make you
their teasing punching bag.  But now that you're gone they've doubled
up their efforts to torment me," he complained.

"Poor baby," Donna typed as she swallowed the last pill.

"Oh, put the phone down and eat before I tell Mrs. Bartlet and she
confiscates it," he teased her back.

She smiled back at him and started eating her soup. The three of them
ate in a companionable silence. As with the night before everything
was delicious. After more the same cream of broccoli soup, they had
grilled salmon and asparagus with a creamy dill sauce and rice pilaf.
Once that was gone, Sam, since he was nearest to the cart, got up to
see what was for dessert.

"So, Sam, where are you staying while you're here?" Donna typed.

"Josh said I could crash in his guest room while I'm here," Sam told her.

"That was very nice, Joshua."

"Well, contrary to what CJ says most people think I'm a nice guy," he
mumbled. "That reminds me Sam, help me remember to give you the keys
to my apartment so you can get in tonight."

"Why does he need your keys?"

"What with the whole, I'm not going to be there when he tries to get
in.  I figured he'd appreciate being able to go in the front door,
rather than having to use the fire escape," he explained.

"Why aren't you going to be there?" she typed.

Josh looked at her a minute, "I thought maybe you'd like me to stay
close by tonight."

She knew he was referring to last night. "I'll be okay.  Mrs. Bartlet
said she'd come in to check on me before she turns in. I don't think
I'll have any of the....difficulties I did last night." She wasn't
sure how much Josh had told Sam about last night.

"I didn't think you would," he told her softly. "I just thought....I
guess....I wanted to make sure everything was all right." He wanted to
stay close to her. Even if it meant he slept on the couch. Her other
challenges aside, he knew from experience that the nightmares would be
coming eventually.

Sam was watching their interchange with a great deal of interest.  He
couldn't see what Donna was typing on the phone but he could gather
what they were talking about from Josh's words.

Donna saw that Josh was trying to do the right thing and took his hand
in hers, "Thank you, Josh.  I appreciate that more than you know. But
I'll be okay. Sam just got here and you've been working like a dog to
look after me for the last 3 days. This is my way to say thanks. You
officially have the night off." He did deserve a little time for
himself.  He'd been amazing all through this ordeal.

Problem was he didn't want the night off. "But..." he tried.

"Now, no but's. Get Sam settled in the guest room and then maybe you
guys should go out for a beer or something. Just like old times. Maybe
CJ and Toby would like to go too."

"I don't think it would be the same without you there," he told her gently.

"There will be other times for me.  Tonight can be for you guys," she typed.

Well, he was out of arguments again. Donna was his match when it came
to arguing. "You're sure you don't need me to stay?"

"I'm positive.  Josh, I'm staying in the White House with the First
Lady acting as my nurse. There's no safer place else in the world,"
she typed.

Josh thought about that for a minute. There were some things that you
were never safe from.  You could be locked in the deepest vault in
Fort Knox, but when the intruder came from inside your own head, you
were never able to hide. Josh looked at Sam, "It would be fun to go
out with CJ and Toby."

Sam nodded back, "Yeah, it would at that."

"Oh Donna," Josh began, decided it was better to change the subject.
"I think CJ and I found an apartment you'll like. It's even in
Georgetown, just a couple of blocks from me."

She frowned and started typing, "Josh, I can't afford to live in Georgetown."

"Well, this apartment is being offered as a sublease that's comparable
to your part of the rent in your old apartment." 'It wasn't exactly
lying.' he told himself. It was a sublease, okay a sublease from J&S
Enterprises, Inc., but it was still a sublease. And her part WOULD be
comparable to what the part she'd been paying at her old place. Josh
leaned out of the way as Sam started to clear away their plates so
there would be room for their dessert, which was vanilla ice cream
with the choice of chocolate or caramel sauce.

"Okay? So what's wrong with it?" she asked Josh.

"Nothing's wrong with it.  If you don't believe me, ask CJ.  I've got
pictures and stuff over in the folder on the coffee table, so after
dinner you can see for yourself." She still looked a little skeptical.
"It's a small one bedroom, one bath on the second floor that was
renovated about a year ago. The building has underground parking and
full security.  There's an elevator. Oh, and...." he grinned.
"Hardwood floors."

The more he talked about it, the more excited she became.  An
apartment in Georgetown. By Josh. That would mean it would be close
enough for her to walk to work. She was so excited she didn't see Sam
start to reach in front of her to set the ice cream down.

Startled by the sudden movement, Donna nearly jumped out of her chair.
The hand that had been holding her water glass, jerked, sending the
glass tumbling over. Water began to spread quickly across the small
table.

"Oh, God, Donna. I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean to startle you," Sam
said. He felt terrible.

Mortified beyond belief, Donna tried to sop up the water frantically.
The blood roared through her head. She hated making a mess.

"Donna?" Josh's voice cut through the roaring in her head. "Donna,
it's okay," he laid his hand over hers gently. "It's just water. You
even kept it out of the ice cream." He paused. "I won't hurt anything.
Whatever soaked through the cloth we can wipe off after we get
finished."

Donna looked at him a minute and felt herself calm down a bit.

"It's all my fault Donna, I really am sorry," Sam said. Now he could
see that the bruises weren't the only thing that Josh hadn't
exaggerated.

Typing something she held it up for him to see, the blue of her eyes
vividly showing her distress. "No, it wasn't your fault, Sam. I'm
sorry for being such a big baby."

"Hey, now. None of that.  You're not being a baby," Josh told her.
"You just got startled.  Could happen to anyone," he said, trying to
reassure her. "Now, do you want caramel or chocolate on your ice
cream?"

She smiled softly at him, not caring if it hurt. She knew that he
realized that she wanted things to be as normal as possible and he was
trying make sure that happened. It occurred to her then, as if in a
flash, that although she had made a number of amazing friends with
hearts of pure platinum since she'd come to D.C., including Sam, CJ,
and Toby, she'd never, in her whole life, had a better friend than
Josh. He was her best friend and she didn't know how she would have
gotten through this nightmare without him. "Chocolate."

**********

Jed walked down the hall in the Residence, a cherry wood box under one
arm. He'd been avoiding their guest ever since Abbey had told him that
she was skittish around large groups of people. But his work in the
Oval had finished unexpectedly early and he was hoping to do his part
to make her feel welcome. He knew there would be no crowd in her room.
He'd met Sam and Josh coming downstairs after having dinner with her.
It had been good to see Sam and he was thrilled to hear that the
'prodigal son' would be returning to the Beltway.

He got to her room and found her door open, but he knocked anyway to
announce his presence. "Donna?" he said before slowly stepping inside.
He heard rustling and saw Donna start to scramble off the couch in
attempt to stand up out of respect for him. "Oh, no Donna. Please
don't get up." She settled back onto the couch.  He saw her pull
something, a phone it appeared out of her pocket and typed something.

"Good evening, Mr. President."

Sliding on his reading glasses he read it, "Oh, thank you, Donna.  You
know I realized today that you've been here two days and I've hardly
said hello.  That's very inhospitable of me," he told her. As a father
he ached to see the marks on her face. It took all the self-control he
had not to gather her up in a bear hug.

"Not at all, sir. I'm sure you've been busy, you know, running the
country and all," she typed with a small lopsided smile.

He was touched that after all she'd been through she could find the
energy and the good humor to joke with him a little. "Yeah, I do have
kind of a demanding job, don't I?"

"I think that's safe to say." She paused then typed something else.
"But I've often thought that no one has ever done it better."

He was touched by her typed words. "Well, I'm sure there are people
who would debate you on that...but...I'm not going to be one of them."
He smiled.  "I was wondering...I seem to find myself between national
crises at the moment and Abbey hates it when I get bored and start to
pester her so I wanted to know if you would like to play chess with
me?" He held out the lovely box. "I even brought my own set. It
belonged to my grandfather and we used to spend many hours playing."

"No, thank you, sir."

He was a little taken aback by that, "You know Donna, this is America
and I'm all for freedom of choice and everything, but usually when the
President asks someone to play chess, they don't refuse." Since he
assumed she was just feeling nervous about playing the leader of the
free world, it was said with no malice, just a teasing glint in his
eye. "You do know how to play chess, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. My Grandfather taught me how to play."

"Then why don't you want to play with me?"

"Because I suck and you'll kick my ass," she typed.

It sounded just like something Zoey would have said, which made him
burst into an all out laugh. "Okay, fair enough.  Although I'm sure it
wouldn't have been quite the shutout that you seem to think it would,
I understand." He paused.  "Would you like to play something else
instead? Cards maybe? I've been told I'm quite the card player, too."

It was on the tip of her tongue to put him off but then she realized
it might be kind of fun and she really was very fond of him. He'd
always been kind and respectful to her and he hadn't fired Josh after
the thing with Mary Marsh or the "Secret Plan to Fight Inflation" or
when Josh was diagnosed with PTSD or the Carrick thing or any number
of other times he could have, so in her book that earned him a lot of
points all by itself. Besides, who else would be able to say they
played cards with the President in the Residence of the White House?

"I'd like that, sir."

"Great, I'll go and get us some cards. What would you like to play?"
he asked. "Do we need a pinochle deck or anything."

Donna thought a moment, "How about gin?"

"Perfect!" he said, rubbing his hands together with a grin. "I have to
warn you though, Abbey won't play gin with me anymore because she says
I'm too good."

"Well, I guess we'll just see about that, won't we, sir?" she typed
back with a lopsided smile. What she didn't say was that there were a
number of people who wouldn't play with her either because she always
won.

"Okay, wait right there and I'll be right back with some cards."
Turning, he left her room.

Donna went over to the table.  Although the guys had taken the soggy
table cloth and all the dishes and the cart with them when they left,
she wanted to make sure the table was free of any crumbs or residue
from dinner. The President returned a few minutes later a fresh pack
of cards and a pad and pencil in his hand.

"Shall we say, penny a point?" he asked her.  Donna nodded.

"Good," he said as he started to deal out the cards. Donna was able to
hold her cards in her injured hand but she manipulated them with her
good hand. He looked at her mischievously. "So Donna, you love trivia,
right?"  She nodded.  'Great,' he thought. 'A new victim for my trivia
knowledge.'

"Well, then," he began as she took her turn and they began to play.
"Do you know how many of the fifty U.S. states end in the letter A?"

"You're trying to distract me, aren't you?" she typed.

"Me? Of course not," he said innocently, as he took his turn. "I'm
wounded that you would think such a thing. You also didn't answer my
question," he said, his eyes dancing mischievously again.

Donna looked at him for a minute, then laying her cards down she got
up and went over to the coffee table. In the middle of the table
rested the large crystal bowl of M&Ms that Mrs. Bartlet had provided
for just such an emergency. Between the bowl and what Donna guessed
were about 4 pounds of M&Ms, it was heavy but she still managed to
pick it up with one hand and bring it back to the table without
dropping it.

Jed looked from the Donna to the bowl and then back to Donna.  "Have
you been talking to my wife?"

Donna merely settled back in her chair and picked up her phone. It
took her a moment to type out what she wanted to say.

21 U.S. states end in A;

5 U.S. states end in S;

4 U.S. states end in N;

4 U.S. states end in O;

4 U.S. states end in E;

3 U.S. states end in I;

2 U.S. states end in D;

2 U.S. states end in T;

2 U.S. states end in Y;

1 U.S. state ends in K;

1 U.S. state ends in G; and

1 U.S. state ends in H

Donna laid the phone on the table so he could read it and played her
last card.  Jed knew he'd been had when he got to the last line.

"Oh and one other thing, Mr. President...gin."

Jed looked up in time to see Donna fill her now empty hand with a
scoop of M&Ms and pop them into her mouth. It was going to be a long
night.

**********

Abbey glanced at her watch as she walked down the hall to Donna's
room. It was getting late; she hoped Donna hadn't already gone to bed.
Liz had called to catch up and Abbey had lost track of the time.  She
also wondered where Jed was this evening.  She was under the
impression that he'd gotten done early for the day but she'd yet to
see him. 'Oh, well,' she thought. As soon as she finished with Donna
she would go and find her wayward husband.

As she got closer to Donna's room she realized she didn't need to look
far for him.  His voice was coming from Donna's room. Abbey stood just
outside the open door and listened.

"OH NO!  Not again! I swear Donna if I hadn't brought the deck of
cards in here myself I would think you'd marked them."

Abbey heard something clatter but couldn't identify it. It sounded
almost like ball bearings or marbles being dropped on a wooden table.

"Okay, okay. That was uncalled for. What's my total now? WHAT!?  That
can't be right. That's larger than the national debt!"

More clattering.

"Fine. But you have to be the one to tell Abbey that we have to sell
the farm to pay for all the money I lost playing gin with you....you
gin shark."

Even more clattering.

Abbey smirked. She could tell from his voice that he was just teasing.
 He sounded the exact same way when he and the girls used to play
Monopoly or Clue.  Her curiosity got the better of her and she stepped
quietly into the room and walked toward the table. She had to bite her
lip to keep from laughing. There were M&M's all over the floor around
their feet and the bowl was all but empty.  "Jed, have you been
tormenting Donna with your stories and your trivia?"

Jed looked up at her, and innocent and shocked look on his face. "Of
course not, we've been playing a friendly game of gin."

"You're lying, Jed. And would you like to know how I know that?" she
bent over and scooped up a couple of M&Ms by his feet and bounced them
obviously in her hand.

"Those don't mean anything," he insisted. "The bowl tipped over and
some spilled on the floor."

Abbey's smirk was enormous as she looked at him. She could see three
M&Ms, a red, a blue and a green lying in his hair. "So after they
spilled, did you get on the floor and roll around in them?" she asked
picking them out of his hair.

Jed's eyes narrowed, "You told her to throw M&Ms at me, didn't you?
Admit it. Told her to use the M&M defense."

"No, actually I told her to throw whatever was handy at you but she
was afraid if she threw anything bigger or heavier at you the Secret
Service would have her thrown out on her ear so the M&Ms were my
solution," Abbey grinned and looked at Donna.  "You've been quiet
through all this, don't you want to say anything in your own defense?"
Donna merely shrugged and looked at Abbey who glanced around the
table.  "Donna? Where's your phone?" She shrugged again. "JED! Did you
steal Donna's phone?"

"Steal is such an ugly word, Abbey. I just confiscated it."

"JED, you jackass! Why on earth would you do such a thing?" she
demanded. No longer joking she was well on her way to being mad at
him.  "That's the only way she has to communicate right now." Jed
mumbled something. "What was that?  What did you say?"

"I said, she answered all my trivia questions and then started asking
me some that I couldn't answer. Then when the M&M throwing started I
told her she could have the M&Ms or her phone because it gave her an
unfair advantage for her to have both. I was sure she'd pick the phone
but of course she picked the M&Ms."

Abbey burst out laughing, "Good for you, Donna." She turned to Jed.
"Okay, jackass," she said, trying to contain her laughter enough to
talk to him. "Give her the phone back right now."

"I was going to," he said, taking it out of his pocket and handing it
back to Donna. "But I want a rematch.  Tomorrow night if possible.
Double or nothing. And NO M&Ms next time."

Donna smiled lopsidedly as she typed, "Must have the M&Ms or you'll
keep trying to distract me."

"Well, Jed?" Abbey said.

"Okay. But this time I want my own bowl so I have something to throw at you."

"Deal," Donna typed in reply.

"Good. Now that is settled, I came to change Donna's bandage so that's
your cue to scram, jackass," she told Jed.

"Okay, I'm going," he looked at Donna for a second. He saw the small
smile that played at her eyes and was glad to know he was the one who
had put it there. He held out his hand. "Thank you, Miss Moss for a
stimulating evening of cards.  I look forward to our rematch tomorrow
night."

Without hesitation, Donna took his hand and shook it. Then she typed
him a final message. "Thank you very much, Mr. President, I enjoyed it
very much."

"Yeah, I bet you enjoyed it," he grumbled as he walked to the door.
"We've got the 'Minnesota Fats' of the gin world staying on our guest
room, but whatever.  Guess I'll have to tell Zoey she has to drop out
of graduate school to pay my tab, but okay." He stopped at the door
and turned back, "Sleep well, Donna," he said in a gentle tone. Then
he walked out into the hall. "CAUSE YOU'RE GONNA NEED IT FOR TOMORROW
NIGHT'S REMATCH!"

**********

Later, after Abbey had changed her bandage without incident and Donna
had taken her medication and slid into the wide soft bed and fallen
asleep missing Josh's comforting presence, the first nightmare came.

Quiet and dark, it slid into her mind. As she lay in bed, a slight
frown passed over her features as her arms and legs twitched
restlessly. A cool, beading sweat began to emerge on her skin as the
terror reached its climax. Then suddenly, with a start, she sat up in
bed.  Her breathing was rapid, her heart, pounding. The air
conditioning in the room made the sweat on her skin feel even colder.

As she sat in the low light from the lamp she'd left burning when
she'd gone to sleep, Donna tried to remember what it had been about
but the memory was indistinct and the more she tried to touch it, the
further it slid away. Checking the clock, she saw it was about 2 a.m.

Lying back down, she tried to calm her body and go back to sleep.
After 10 minutes she was feeling suffocated under the covers of the
bed and she slid out of it. Grabbing the comforter she walked to the
couch and raised the window a couple of inches. A tepid, but
comforting breeze slid in and touched her face. She laid back on the
couch and wondered what Josh was doing and hoped that Sam, CJ and Toby
hadn't let him screw up his sensitive system too much. Within 5
minutes, she was fast asleep.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 14 - MATURE



Josh carried breakfast as he walked down the hall to Donna's room.
Knocking softly on the closed door, he waited for a response.
Receiving none, he slowly opened it and quietly called out to her. He
saw the bed was unmade but empty and the bathroom door was open and
empty as well. Then her blonde head caught his attention and he saw
she was bundled up in the comforter from the bed and sound asleep on
the couch. He was surprised she wasn't up yet. It was almost 8:30 a.m.
Aside from the fact that Mike would be there in a little over an hour,
he'd always known Donna to be a fairly early riser.

Walking over to the dining table, he frowned in curiosity at all the
M&Ms scattered on the floor. Setting his breakfast offerings on the
table he walked back over to her and carefully sat down opposite her
on the sturdy coffee table. Putting his coffee down behind him on the
table, he watched her for a moment.  The even rise and fall of her
breathing. The way the morning light touched her hair and made it
sparkle. The bruises and marks on her face and neck that were no
longer uniformly grape purple or red. They now were not only lighter
in color but were changing into colors like yellow and green. A sure
sign they were healing. A little strand of hair had fallen across her
uninjured cheek and he longed to brush it away but he didn't want to
startle her so he kept his hands resting on his knees, allowing
himself the luxury of watching her for just a moment longer. Then he
tried to wake her as gently as possible.

"Donna? Donna, it's time to wake-up."

Josh's voice pulled her gently back from the oblivion of sleep and
Donna's eyes fluttered open. She had a slight headache and she felt a
little groggy. It took her a second to shake off sleep enough focus on
him. Strong morning light washed over him as it came in the window. He
was sitting next to her on coffee table, a small smile on his face.
"Josh?" she said before she remembered she wasn't supposed to be
speaking. It came out in a whisper.

"Shhh, no talking remember," he said softly. "Good morning, sleepy
head." Since he didn't know where hers was, he pulled his phone out
and handed it to her. "How are you doing?"

Her fingers were slow moving as she typed, "Head hurts a little. Tired."

Josh frowned a little at hearing about her headache.  He slowly put
his hand to her forehead to feel for a fever but she didn't feel warm.
He'd be sure to see if Abbey could take a look at her before the
interview with Mike. "Well, I'm not surprised.  It looks like you had
quite an evening," he told her with a smile, referring to the fact
that there were M&Ms. "So what, I let you out of my sight for one
night and you have a wild party?" he teased her.

Donna followed his gaze and realized she'd forgotten to clean up last
night. She'd been so sleepy after Abbey had changed her bandage, all
she was able to do was take her medication before going to sleep. She
made a mental note to clean them up as soon as she managed to get up
off the couch. It wouldn't do to have the place messy when Mike Casper
showed up. "No, I just beat the President at gin," she typed. Handing
the phone back to him she snuggled into the cushions a bit more and
closed her eyes as if to go back to sleep. A little smirk appeared at
the left side of her mouth.

Josh sat up in surprise. "You did what?" he asked, sure she had
mistyped her answer. Her eyes stayed closed for a moment and he
wondered if she'd fallen back asleep. Just as he was going to say
something to wake her again, her eyes fluttered open and she reached
out for the phone.

"I played gin with the President last night," she typed.

"I thought he was going to ask you to play chess," Josh said,
remembering the conversation he and Sam had with the President the
night before.

"Yeah, he did.  I told him no."

"You told him no?  The President asked you to play chess with him and
you said no?  Even Toby doesn't say no when the President asks him to
play chess," Josh said with a new found note of respect in his voice
for her. "Why didn't you want to play chess with him?"

"Because he would have kicked my ass."

"Well, yeah. That goes without saying.  There are two things you never
want to go up against the President on. Chess and Latin."

"I know," she typed in reply. "You seem pretty perky today. Did you
and Sam go out last night?"

"Yes, we did. We even managed to corral CJ and Toby into coming along.
We went to the Hawk and Dove."

"Sounds like fun. You didn't abuse your sensitive system to much did
you?" she typed.

"No, you would have been very proud at my restraint," he grinned.

"CJ threatened you?"

"No, of course....okay, maybe a little. But I was going to keep the
drinking to a minimum anyway. I wanted to be fresh for this morning,"
he told her. In truth he'd only had one beer. And it had been for more
that reason than because CJ had teasingly threatened him.

She moved to the next logical question. "What time is it?" It didn't
occur to her sleepy brain that she could have looked at the phone
display.

"About 8:30.  I've got to go meet Mike in the lobby in a little over
an hour." He smiled at her, "But I brought you some breakfast."  He
was rewarded when her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"What did you bring me?" she typed.

He smiled, his dimples putting in an early morning appearance, "This
is where we come to the portion of our game where Miss Donnatella Moss
has to get out of bed to receive her grand prize."

"Can't I have a hint before you make me get up off this comfy couch?" she typed.

"Yeah, my hint is you're going to like it so get up," he said with a
grin. "By the way, why are you sleeping on the couch?"

She thought about telling him about her nightmare but there was so
little to tell she decided against it. "I couldn't get to sleep in the
bed so I tried the couch and apparently it worked," she told him,
stretching her uninjured arm over her head.

He wondered if there were more to it than she was saying but he only
grinned and shook his head slightly. "Just like Goldilocks, trying out
every bed in the room until you find the one that's 'just right.'"

"Speaking of Goldilocks, where's my porridge? I want to eat and still
have time to clean up and get ready before Mike gets here."

He reached behind him and pulled out his cup of steaming hot coffee.
It made him simile to see her eyes go wide in interest. "Before you
get any ideas, this is mine.  Yours is over on the table."

She recognized the label on his insulated cup, 'Bistro Francais.' One
of her favorite places for breakfast when she had a little extra
money.  Tossing back the comforter, she rolled off the couch and went
in search of her breakfast.

Josh watched her walk sleepily over to the table. He was glad to see
she seemed steady on her feet this morning.  He knew talking to Mike
was probably going to be hard for her.

Walking up to the table, Donna found a steaming vanilla latte and a
plain white bakery bag.  She hoped, beyond hope that he'd gotten what
she thought he'd gotten.  Passing up the coffee to see the contents of
the bag, she picked it up. It was even still slightly warm. After
glancing back at him curiously, she opened the top of the bag and
looked inside. The warm fragrant scent hit her first, laced with hints
of yeast, oil, and sugar. Beignets. He'd brought her a bag of
beignets, her absolute favorite thing in the whole world for
breakfast. Pronounced "ben-yay," they were basically French doughnuts
without a hole that were swimming in powered sugar and best eaten
while still fresh and warm. She'd gotten hooked on them when they'd
stopped in New Orleans during the first campaign after she'd escaped
into the French Quarter one morning to find some decent coffee. There
were only two places she knew of in D.C. to find them. One was 'Lulu's
New Orleans Cafe' on 22nd Street in Foggy Bottom and the other was
'Bistro Francais' on M Street in Georgetown.

Clutching the bag to her chest she turned to Josh. The look on her
face said it all. It was the same look she'd given him after she'd
hugged him for the book and it's inscription he'd given her that
Christmas so long ago. One of amazed gratitude and being deeply
touched by his gesture.

"You better eat them while they're still warm," Josh said gently.

She smiled and laid the bag on the table. Sitting down at the table,
she patted the chair next to her to indicate he should come and join
her.  Josh didn't need to be told twice and he picked up his coffee
and came over to sit beside her.  Donna ripped open the top of the bag
and peeled it back to reveal the four treasures inside. Just as she
was going to reach for one, she suddenly put her hand up to tell him
to wait and she scurried into the bathroom. Coming back a moment later
she was carrying two large towels. Draping one around the front of
Josh she settled herself back into the chair and draped the other
around herself.

"Are you trying to say that we need bibs?" Josh asked her with a smirk.

Donna gave him a lopsided smile and picking up a beignet, held it up
for him to see. Powdered sugar drifted down onto the table. Then she
took a bite. When she the pulled the delicacy away from her mouth,
powdered sugar covered her mouth and a generous amount of it had
rained down the front of the towel.  A look of bliss on her face, she
chewed the bite she'd taken and then pointed to the front of the
towel.

"Okay, so we need bibs," Josh replied, taking a bite from his own
piece and coming away with almost an identical coating of sugar on his
face and the towel. "Yeah, good call on the towels, Donna."

Donna smirked again and took another bite. The two of them sat in
silence eating the rest of the beignets and drinking coffee. It was a
quiet, light moment in a day that would most likely be anything but.
If Josh had thought to bring along the newspaper it would have seemed
like any lazy morning breakfast. When the beignets were all eaten and
the coffee had been drained, they wiped their faces and Donna gathered
the towels and put them in the bathroom hamper.

When she came back into the room, Josh had to smile.  The end of her
nose was still covered in powdered sugar. "Come here," he told her.
She walked over to him and waited as he pulled out his handkerchief.
"You're still a little sugary," he said. It took every ounce of
control he possessed not to lean forward and kiss the sugar off the
end of her nose. Instead he settled for rubbing the cloth lightly over
it. They looked at each other for a moment, something quiet and
unnamed, yet with the strength of iron bands, passing between them.

Donna picked his phone up off the coffee table, "I guess I better
clean things up and jump in the shower or I won't be ready for Mike."
She handed him back the phone.

"Yeah, unless you want to give Mike your statement in your pajamas."
He'd planned to wait with her until it was time to meet Mike but he
sensed she wanted a few minutes to herself. "Well, I've got to go and
check on a thing before Mike gets here so I'm going to go," he lied.
"I'll be back with him and Sam in about 45 minutes." Still watching
her, he waited just a beat and then turned to leave.  "Oh, don't
forget to take your medication, including something for your
headache."

Walking over to the nightstand, she picked up her own phone and sent
him a text message. "I won't forget...Mother."

He knew she was teasing him. "Okay, fine. Don't take anything and see
how you feel," he said with a smile "Well, I'll see you in a bit," he
turned to head out into the hall but the sound of his phone receiving
another text message stopped him.  He pulled it out and looked at the
display.

"Thank you for breakfast, Josh." It read.

He looked up at her. "You're welcome.  I'm glad you liked it," he told her.

"I loved it," she sent to him in reply.

"Ah-kay. Well, I gotta...you know," he said. She nodded to him and
with a slight grin at having his morning gift received so well
received, Josh headed downstairs.

**********

When he returned with Sam and Mike a while later, the room was
immaculate and Donna was sitting on the couch. Abbey had come by and
given her a once over and made sure she'd taken her meds. Then she and
Donna had quickly set the room to rights, including making the bed and
cleaning up the M&Ms. Now Donna's only problems were the slight
headache that had yet to go away and the swarming group of butterflies
in her stomach.

Even though she wouldn't have much to say, she really didn't want to
do the interview. On some basic level it was like someone was holding
up a sign in her head saying, "Don't go there." It wasn't that she
felt uncomfortable around the three men. Just the opposite, she
trusted each of them implicitly. She just didn't want to talk about
what had happened.  She wanted to forget it and get on with her life.
But if there was a tiny piece of information she could give Mike that
might help him stop the person that had done this to her from doing
the same thing to someone else AND help keep her from being "Sydney"
for any longer than necessary, it would be worth it.

"Hi Donna," Mike greeted her as he, Sam and Josh walked through the
open bedroom door. She waved to them with as much cheerfulness as
possible.

"How are you doing today, Donna?" Mike asked her.

"Good," she typed. "No offense, Mike, but I'm ready to have this done
and over with."

Mike smiled, "No offense taken, perfectly understandable. But please
try and relax, I'm going to try and make this as painless as possible.
Why don't we all sit over at the table?" She nodded and the four of
them moved to sit around the table. Josh and Sam took up positions on
her right and her left and Mike sat across from her. "Donna this is
how I thought we'd do this. I'm going to record our conversation," he
said, setting a small handheld recorder on the table. "Now, since you
obviously can't talk, I'm going to ask you to type out your answers on
your PDA and then give it to Sam and he will read them."

Donna frowned and waived her hand to stop him. "Why Sam and not Josh?"
she typed. "No offense, Sam."

"None taken," Sam said.

"Donna," Josh began, laying his hand gently on her uninjured arm.
"There are a couple of reasons why letting Sam do it is a good idea."

"Like what?"

"Sam's a neutral party," he exhaled. He'd hoped he wouldn't have to
tell her this part, "And because after Mike is done talking to you,
he's got a appointment with me in my office to take my statement. It
would be better if I wasn't officially involved in him taking your
statement."

She frowned again, "Your statement about what?"

He spoke quietly to her, not softly enough that Mike and Sam couldn't
hear but quietly enough that he hoped it softened his words for her.
"Remember when I told you that your attacker called me?" She nodded.
"Well, Ron got the last part of the conversation on tape but not the
first part. They want to question me about the part not on tape."

Frantically, she started to type. "You're not in trouble are you?
Because of me?" Laying the phone down on the table in front of him,
she placed her hand over his where it was still resting on her arm.

Beyond touched that she was concerned for him, he turned his hand
under hers, until their palms were together.  He wrapped her hand
gently in his, "No, of course not.  Mike just wants to talk to me like
he wants to talk to you.  Nothing more," he said, reassuringly.

"Donna," Sam said.  "If it makes you feel any better, I was planning
on being there with Josh."

Nodding to Sam and sliding her hand from his, she picked up the phone
and started typing again, "I want to be there, too."

"No," he said, simply. There was no way he was going to let her hear
him talk about the vile, twisted things that bastard had said to him.
She started to type something again, but this time he laid his hand
over hers to stop her.  "No, Donna. Trust me when I say that it's not
a good idea."

She looked at him for a moment and remembered their discussion about
the phone call a couple of days ago. That was the discussion that had
included the fact that her attacker thought she was dead. Then Josh
had told her that her attacker had merely rambled on about things like
a lunatic and that there hadn't been much more to the call than that.
She also recalled thinking that Josh was lying but hadn't pursued it
because she hadn't been sure she was ready to hear what he hadn't
said. But now that it involved him and him having to be interviewed by
the FBI, it made her ready.

Mike and Sam sat there silently as Josh and Donna continued to discuss it.

Donna typed out something and then she laid her hand back on his. "I
want to be there with you. Just like you've been there for me."

Josh ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to say yes. Wanted to
grant her request. But his desire to shield her was greater. He'd
often found that being honest with her worked the best so he went with
that. "Donna, there are some things I didn't tell you about what he
said during the call. He told me what he did...to you. Most of it
anyway. I have to tell Mike the details. It's not going to be
pleasant."

Part of her ached for him and the knowledge he had. Terrible knowledge
about what had happened to her that even she didn't have. Another part
of her wanted to run from hearing anything about it. After all, her
lack of memory was a huge gift. Why should she look a gift horse in
the mouth? Donna considered that and it seemed to make her headache go
up a notch. Because it was for Josh. If it meant she could be there to
support him, even in some tiny way, then she could and would do it.
Just like he'd done for her. "We both know that life isn't always
pleasant, Josh," she typed. "But I need to this. For both of us."

He looked at her, saw the strength and the determination in her eyes,
and knew that she wasn't just saying the words. She meant each one.
Her courage humbled him and made him love her that much more.  "Okay,"
he said.  Turning to Mike, he said, "We'll just do my interview up
here as soon as we finish with hers."

Mike nodded.  "Not a problem." He took a breath, glad now that they'd
worked the issue out between themselves. "Now...as I was saying.
You'll type your answers to my questions and Sam will read them. This
afternoon I'll have everything transcribed into a hard copy and I'll
have the transcript sent over to you. You'll review it and if you feel
it's accurate, you'll sign it and a letter stating it is an accurate
accounting of your statement.  Understand?" Donna nodded. "Good. Okay,
the sooner we start, the sooner we'll be done so let begin."  He
pressed the button on the recorder. "For the record, what is your full
name?"

"Donnatella Katherine Moss." Sam read it aloud for the recorder.

"What can you tell me about the events of late Saturday, August the
7th and early Sunday, August the 8th?"

"I'm afraid not very much. Almost all my memory from that time is
gone." Sam read.

"Okay, let's back up for a moment.  What were you doing earlier in the
evening?" Mike asked in a calm but official sounding tone.

"I was working at the White House until about 11 p.m. on Saturday the 7th."

"And for the record, what is your position at the White House?"

"I'm the senior assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff for Strategic
Planning, Joshua Lyman," Sam read in his clear, crisp voice.

"And how long have you held that position?" he asked. Although the
questions were routine and basic, he was trying to keep her at ease.

"Almost 6 years."

"Before you left the White House that night, did you speak to anyone?"

"Yes. Joshua Lyman."

"Anyone else?" Mike asked.

"No, it was late and I don't believe there was anyone else there at
that time," she typed and Sam recited.

"Do you remember driving back to your apartment?"

"Vaguely," her headache seemed to be getting slowly worse and she
rubbed her temple a little.

The action was not lost on Josh. He thought about asking her if she
was feeling all right but wanted to let her get through this.

"Was there anything remarkable about the drive?  Was someone following
you or were there any incidents you can remember?"

Donna thought about that for a moment. "No. I don't remember anything
like that. It was late and things were pretty quiet."

"Do you remember making it to your apartment complex?"

"Yes.  I remember parking and then reaching in the back for my purse.
But it wasn't there. Then I remembered I left it at work."

"What do you remember after that point?" he asked her.

She frowned and rubbed the uninjured side of her forehead. The
headache had started to throb a little with each beat of her heart.
She stared off at a point over Mike's shoulder, her eyes trying to see
that night, see it as it had happened. "I remember thinking it was
okay that my purse was at work because it would be safe there and I
still had my keys and my cell phone. Then I..." her typing trailed off
as she stared at the same spot and continued to rub her forehead.

"Donna?" Josh said, quietly. At his voice, her head snapped around to
look at him. 'Her eyes are a bit dazed,' he thought. "Are you feeling
all right?"  She looked at him blankly, almost like he wasn't really
there. It was the same look she'd had in the hospital when she'd first
woken up. He spoke quietly and gently to her. "Donna?"

At that moment, Donna wasn't seeing him, her mind was lost in the
fragment of a memory. Like a specter it rose from her mind. Darkness.
Cold. Pain.  Even though she had no conscious memory of it, the three
words fell from her lips in a rough whisper. Loud enough that the all
three men had heard them. Sam repeated them to make sure the recorder
picked them up.

"Donna." Becoming concerned with the color that had apparently all but
leached out of her face, Josh reached out to touch her arm. She jumped
as if he'd stuck her with an electric cattle prod. "I'm sorry.  I
didn't mean to startle you."

She put her hand over her heart to steady herself. Taking the phone
back from Sam she typed something. "What did you say?"

"I said I was sorry I startled you. Are you feeling all right?" Josh asked her.

"Yes, fine," she lied and hoped her galloping heart didn't give her
away. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you've been rubbing your head and you kind of checked-out
there for a minute."

"My headache is still bothering me a little bit."

"Donna..." Mike began. "You said, 'darkness, cold, pain.' Can you tell
me what those words meant?"

Not wanting to get pulled under again in the rip current of the
memory, she focused on Josh to center herself. She felt his hand cover
her arm again and it provided another steadying link. "I think it was
cold in my apartment, really cold," she typed and Sam repeated.

"Anything else?" Mike asked.  "Anything at all?  Images, smells,
shapes, impressions, feelings?"

Donna sat and thought for a moment longer.  Then shook her head.
"Nothing else until I woke up. But even that's fuzzy. It was morning.
Early. I remembering thinking I was hung over or had the flu. My head
hurt and I was nauseous, everything hurt and it was hard to breathe."

"Do you remember calling 911?" he asked.

She thought for a moment, "No. Did I?"

"Yes. The operator heard noise but she wasn't able to make out any
words. Luckily D.C.'s 911 can track incoming calls. The police found
the phone off the hook and on the floor."

"Oh. I don't remember that.  I remember waking up in the ambulance and
I remember the emergency room," she typed out so Sam could read her
response.

Mike went over some notes he'd made.  She hadn't really given him any
information, although the thing about the apartment being cold nagged
at him a bit. He wasn't sure why.  She'd probably just felt cold from
the shock from her injuries and the trauma of the experience. But he
made a note to talk to the officers that were on scene and see if they
remembered anything about her apartment being oddly cold when they
arrived. He smiled at her.  "Okay, Donna," he said, switching off the
recorder. "I think that about does it for your interview.  If you
remember anything, anything at all even if it's just a feeling or
scent or color, call me right away. Anything, no matter how
insignificant you think it might be, could be important."  Donna
nodded.

"Okay, do we need break before we start on Josh's statement?"

Josh looked at Donna and she shook her head.  "Are you sure you don't
want to take something for your headache?"

"I will when you're done," she told him.

"You sure?" She nodded.  "Okay, Mike, let's get this over with."

Mike nodded and switched on the recorder again. "For the record can
you state your full name and your current job."

"Joshua David Lyman and I have been the Deputy Chief of Staff for
Strategic Planning for President Josiah Bartlet for approximately the
last 6 years."

"You are also Miss Moss' direct supervisor, is that correct?" Mike
asked, trying to keep things as objective and official as possible.

"That's correct."

"What can you tell me about the morning of Sunday, August the 8th?"
Mike asked him.

"After leaving George Washington Hospital where Donnatella Moss was
being treated I went to her apartment to pack some clothing and other
items for her. As I was getting in my car to return to the hospital,
my cell phone rang. The ring tone for the call and caller ID on the
phone both read for Miss Moss but I knew she was in the hospital and
couldn't speak so I assumed it couldn't have been her calling me.
After speaking to the caller for a few moments I realized her alleged
attacker had called me."

"And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"What he said.  He knew things about what had happened to Miss Moss
during her assault. He also he indicated that he'd killed her and
taken her cell phone and her White House identification. Since no one
but the police, the hospital staff, myself and CJ Cregg, the White
House Press Secretary knew of Miss Moss' assault, I concluded it must
be her assailant," Josh explained.

"Why did he call you?" Mike asked.

"Well, he said he needed to tell someone what he'd done and didn't
feel it was something he could exactly call the newspapers about. He
called me specifically because I was the first person entered in the
speed dial listing on her cell phone. He seemed very fascinated with
that. He observed that you could tell a lot about what was important
to a person by looking at their speed dial listing. He wanted to know
who I was to her to rank so high. He said he wanted me to understand
why he'd killed her and he wanted to know if I had been her boyfriend.
I told him it was something like that." He glanced at Donna who
silently laid her hand on his in understanding.

Josh continued, "He also wanted to know if I worked at the White House
with her and if that was where we met. I tried to throw him off by
saying that she and I met at a party. That's when he told me he'd
stolen her White House identification."

"How did you come to contact Secret Service Agent Ron Butterfield?"
Mike asked him.

"It's standard procedure that all attacks and threats to White House
personnel be reported to the Secret Service so Agent Butterfield
already knew about her assault. But since all White House issued cell
phones are equipped with a tracking device, I thought maybe he'd be
able to trace the call, so I drove to White House and contacted him.
At which time he was able to record the latter half of the call," Josh
told him.

'Now comes the hard part,' Mike thought. "Did the caller give you any
reason why he allegedly assaulted Miss Moss?"

Josh looked at Donna. Her blue eyes and bruised face looked up at him
and she nodded to let him know it was okay.

"He started becoming a bit erratic at that point. Like he was talking
about a mission he was on.  He said she was a whore and when I told
him not to speak about her like that he said he didn't mean to offend
me but all women were whores, especially the blonde ones. He was
rambling on about their hair being their 'scarlet letter' or something
like that and how they used sex and anything else they could to get
men to do what they wanted. But he knew the truth about them and he
was going to take care of all of them. He said someday, mankind would
thank him for ridding the world of them. He really did sound
completely crazy. He said she was his first and he was so glad he'd
picked her."

"Why was that?" Mike asked him.

"He said it was s sign or something that it was meant to be. He said
it we couldn't have whores in the government," Josh finished, feeling
both clean and filthy at the same time. As if saying the words aloud
had cleansed him but having to be the one that passed them onto others
in the form of verbal words, especially Donna who'd already suffered
so much, had also stained him.

"Is there anything else you'd like to add?" Mike asked.

"No, I can't think of anything," Josh replied.

"Okay," he said, switching off the recorder.  "Well, Josh, like I told
Donna if you think of anything else, no matter how insignificant, call
me." He put the recorder and some paperwork in his briefcase and
closed it. "You guys did great. Thanks for your time. The transcripts
of your interviews should be sent over later today or first thing
tomorrow morning," he told them.

"Bye, Mike," Josh called as the FBI agent left.  "Hey, Sam, thanks for
all your help." Josh paused.  "Could you give Donna and me a second?"

"Sure, no problem," Sam said.

Donna put her hand on his arm, "Thanks for being here, Sam."

He smiled warmly at her, "You bet. I'm just glad I could help." With
that he headed downstairs to pester Toby.

Josh put his hands on her upper arms, "How you doing? Is your headache
any better?"

She shrugged and then typed.  "I'm okay. My headache is about the same."

"Did Abbey have a chance to take a look at you this morning?"

"Yes. She said I was probably just stressed about the interview. I
guess I didn't do very well," she typed.

He frowned at that, "Why do you say that?"

"I didn't tell him anything he didn't already know."

"Well, he was aware of your memory loss before he came in here. And
you did remember that thing about the cold."

She rolled her eyes and then typed. "Oh yeah.  That will crack the
case WIDE open."

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself, Donna. You told him what you could
and that's all he was looking for." He didn't like to see her so down
on herself.

She looked up at him, "You think?"

"I know," he told her. "Now, I want you to take some more Advil for
your headache and then lie down and relax. Put this out of your mind.
Watch some TV or read a book or take a nap or something. Text message
me if you don't feel better in a little bit.  I've got to go
downstairs and make sure Sam isn't driving Toby too crazy.

"I'm sure you've already missed the boat on that one, Joshua," Donna
typed with a little smirk.

He gave her a full dimpled smile, "Well, you're probably right about
that but I've got to try."

Something in her seemed to settle at the sight of his dimples. "Okay,
I'll try to stay out of trouble."

He grinned this time and walked to the door. "See, that, right there,
that's what's called leaving yourself open to be snarked." He stopped
in the doorway. "But I'll let you off the hook and let you use your
'get out of the snark free' card." With that, he set out to find Sam.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 14 - MATURE



Josh carried breakfast as he walked down the hall to Donna's room.
Knocking softly on the closed door, he waited for a response.
Receiving none, he slowly opened it and quietly called out to her. He
saw the bed was unmade but empty and the bathroom door was open and
empty as well. Then her blonde head caught his attention and he saw
she was bundled up in the comforter from the bed and sound asleep on
the couch. He was surprised she wasn't up yet. It was almost 8:30 a.m.
Aside from the fact that Mike would be there in a little over an hour,
he'd always known Donna to be a fairly early riser.

Walking over to the dining table, he frowned in curiosity at all the
M&Ms scattered on the floor. Setting his breakfast offerings on the
table he walked back over to her and carefully sat down opposite her
on the sturdy coffee table. Putting his coffee down behind him on the
table, he watched her for a moment.  The even rise and fall of her
breathing. The way the morning light touched her hair and made it
sparkle. The bruises and marks on her face and neck that were no
longer uniformly grape purple or red. They now were not only lighter
in color but were changing into colors like yellow and green. A sure
sign they were healing. A little strand of hair had fallen across her
uninjured cheek and he longed to brush it away but he didn't want to
startle her so he kept his hands resting on his knees, allowing
himself the luxury of watching her for just a moment longer. Then he
tried to wake her as gently as possible.

"Donna? Donna, it's time to wake-up."

Josh's voice pulled her gently back from the oblivion of sleep and
Donna's eyes fluttered open. She had a slight headache and she felt a
little groggy. It took her a second to shake off sleep enough focus on
him. Strong morning light washed over him as it came in the window. He
was sitting next to her on coffee table, a small smile on his face.
"Josh?" she said before she remembered she wasn't supposed to be
speaking. It came out in a whisper.

"Shhh, no talking remember," he said softly. "Good morning, sleepy
head." Since he didn't know where hers was, he pulled his phone out
and handed it to her. "How are you doing?"

Her fingers were slow moving as she typed, "Head hurts a little. Tired."

Josh frowned a little at hearing about her headache.  He slowly put
his hand to her forehead to feel for a fever but she didn't feel warm.
He'd be sure to see if Abbey could take a look at her before the
interview with Mike. "Well, I'm not surprised.  It looks like you had
quite an evening," he told her with a smile, referring to the fact
that there were M&Ms. "So what, I let you out of my sight for one
night and you have a wild party?" he teased her.

Donna followed his gaze and realized she'd forgotten to clean up last
night. She'd been so sleepy after Abbey had changed her bandage, all
she was able to do was take her medication before going to sleep. She
made a mental note to clean them up as soon as she managed to get up
off the couch. It wouldn't do to have the place messy when Mike Casper
showed up. "No, I just beat the President at gin," she typed. Handing
the phone back to him she snuggled into the cushions a bit more and
closed her eyes as if to go back to sleep. A little smirk appeared at
the left side of her mouth.

Josh sat up in surprise. "You did what?" he asked, sure she had
mistyped her answer. Her eyes stayed closed for a moment and he
wondered if she'd fallen back asleep. Just as he was going to say
something to wake her again, her eyes fluttered open and she reached
out for the phone.

"I played gin with the President last night," she typed.

"I thought he was going to ask you to play chess," Josh said,
remembering the conversation he and Sam had with the President the
night before.

"Yeah, he did.  I told him no."

"You told him no?  The President asked you to play chess with him and
you said no?  Even Toby doesn't say no when the President asks him to
play chess," Josh said with a new found note of respect in his voice
for her. "Why didn't you want to play chess with him?"

"Because he would have kicked my ass."

"Well, yeah. That goes without saying.  There are two things you never
want to go up against the President on. Chess and Latin."

"I know," she typed in reply. "You seem pretty perky today. Did you
and Sam go out last night?"

"Yes, we did. We even managed to corral CJ and Toby into coming along.
We went to the Hawk and Dove."

"Sounds like fun. You didn't abuse your sensitive system to much did
you?" she typed.

"No, you would have been very proud at my restraint," he grinned.

"CJ threatened you?"

"No, of course....okay, maybe a little. But I was going to keep the
drinking to a minimum anyway. I wanted to be fresh for this morning,"
he told her. In truth he'd only had one beer. And it had been for more
that reason than because CJ had teasingly threatened him.

She moved to the next logical question. "What time is it?" It didn't
occur to her sleepy brain that she could have looked at the phone
display.

"About 8:30.  I've got to go meet Mike in the lobby in a little over
an hour." He smiled at her, "But I brought you some breakfast."  He
was rewarded when her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"What did you bring me?" she typed.

He smiled, his dimples putting in an early morning appearance, "This
is where we come to the portion of our game where Miss Donnatella Moss
has to get out of bed to receive her grand prize."

"Can't I have a hint before you make me get up off this comfy couch?" she typed.

"Yeah, my hint is you're going to like it so get up," he said with a
grin. "By the way, why are you sleeping on the couch?"

She thought about telling him about her nightmare but there was so
little to tell she decided against it. "I couldn't get to sleep in the
bed so I tried the couch and apparently it worked," she told him,
stretching her uninjured arm over her head.

He wondered if there were more to it than she was saying but he only
grinned and shook his head slightly. "Just like Goldilocks, trying out
every bed in the room until you find the one that's 'just right.'"

"Speaking of Goldilocks, where's my porridge? I want to eat and still
have time to clean up and get ready before Mike gets here."

He reached behind him and pulled out his cup of steaming hot coffee.
It made him simile to see her eyes go wide in interest. "Before you
get any ideas, this is mine.  Yours is over on the table."

She recognized the label on his insulated cup, 'Bistro Francais.' One
of her favorite places for breakfast when she had a little extra
money.  Tossing back the comforter, she rolled off the couch and went
in search of her breakfast.

Josh watched her walk sleepily over to the table. He was glad to see
she seemed steady on her feet this morning.  He knew talking to Mike
was probably going to be hard for her.

Walking up to the table, Donna found a steaming vanilla latte and a
plain white bakery bag.  She hoped, beyond hope that he'd gotten what
she thought he'd gotten.  Passing up the coffee to see the contents of
the bag, she picked it up. It was even still slightly warm. After
glancing back at him curiously, she opened the top of the bag and
looked inside. The warm fragrant scent hit her first, laced with hints
of yeast, oil, and sugar. Beignets. He'd brought her a bag of
beignets, her absolute favorite thing in the whole world for
breakfast. Pronounced "ben-yay," they were basically French doughnuts
without a hole that were swimming in powered sugar and best eaten
while still fresh and warm. She'd gotten hooked on them when they'd
stopped in New Orleans during the first campaign after she'd escaped
into the French Quarter one morning to find some decent coffee. There
were only two places she knew of in D.C. to find them. One was 'Lulu's
New Orleans Cafe' on 22nd Street in Foggy Bottom and the other was
'Bistro Francais' on M Street in Georgetown.

Clutching the bag to her chest she turned to Josh. The look on her
face said it all. It was the same look she'd given him after she'd
hugged him for the book and it's inscription he'd given her that
Christmas so long ago. One of amazed gratitude and being deeply
touched by his gesture.

"You better eat them while they're still warm," Josh said gently.

She smiled and laid the bag on the table. Sitting down at the table,
she patted the chair next to her to indicate he should come and join
her.  Josh didn't need to be told twice and he picked up his coffee
and came over to sit beside her.  Donna ripped open the top of the bag
and peeled it back to reveal the four treasures inside. Just as she
was going to reach for one, she suddenly put her hand up to tell him
to wait and she scurried into the bathroom. Coming back a moment later
she was carrying two large towels. Draping one around the front of
Josh she settled herself back into the chair and draped the other
around herself.

"Are you trying to say that we need bibs?" Josh asked her with a smirk.

Donna gave him a lopsided smile and picking up a beignet, held it up
for him to see. Powdered sugar drifted down onto the table. Then she
took a bite. When she the pulled the delicacy away from her mouth,
powdered sugar covered her mouth and a generous amount of it had
rained down the front of the towel.  A look of bliss on her face, she
chewed the bite she'd taken and then pointed to the front of the
towel.

"Okay, so we need bibs," Josh replied, taking a bite from his own
piece and coming away with almost an identical coating of sugar on his
face and the towel. "Yeah, good call on the towels, Donna."

Donna smirked again and took another bite. The two of them sat in
silence eating the rest of the beignets and drinking coffee. It was a
quiet, light moment in a day that would most likely be anything but.
If Josh had thought to bring along the newspaper it would have seemed
like any lazy morning breakfast. When the beignets were all eaten and
the coffee had been drained, they wiped their faces and Donna gathered
the towels and put them in the bathroom hamper.

When she came back into the room, Josh had to smile.  The end of her
nose was still covered in powdered sugar. "Come here," he told her.
She walked over to him and waited as he pulled out his handkerchief.
"You're still a little sugary," he said. It took every ounce of
control he possessed not to lean forward and kiss the sugar off the
end of her nose. Instead he settled for rubbing the cloth lightly over
it. They looked at each other for a moment, something quiet and
unnamed, yet with the strength of iron bands, passing between them.

Donna picked his phone up off the coffee table, "I guess I better
clean things up and jump in the shower or I won't be ready for Mike."
She handed him back the phone.

"Yeah, unless you want to give Mike your statement in your pajamas."
He'd planned to wait with her until it was time to meet Mike but he
sensed she wanted a few minutes to herself. "Well, I've got to go and
check on a thing before Mike gets here so I'm going to go," he lied.
"I'll be back with him and Sam in about 45 minutes." Still watching
her, he waited just a beat and then turned to leave.  "Oh, don't
forget to take your medication, including something for your
headache."

Walking over to the nightstand, she picked up her own phone and sent
him a text message. "I won't forget...Mother."

He knew she was teasing him. "Okay, fine. Don't take anything and see
how you feel," he said with a smile "Well, I'll see you in a bit," he
turned to head out into the hall but the sound of his phone receiving
another text message stopped him.  He pulled it out and looked at the
display.

"Thank you for breakfast, Josh." It read.

He looked up at her. "You're welcome.  I'm glad you liked it," he told her.

"I loved it," she sent to him in reply.

"Ah-kay. Well, I gotta...you know," he said. She nodded to him and
with a slight grin at having his morning gift received so well
received, Josh headed downstairs.

**********

When he returned with Sam and Mike a while later, the room was
immaculate and Donna was sitting on the couch. Abbey had come by and
given her a once over and made sure she'd taken her meds. Then she and
Donna had quickly set the room to rights, including making the bed and
cleaning up the M&Ms. Now Donna's only problems were the slight
headache that had yet to go away and the swarming group of butterflies
in her stomach.

Even though she wouldn't have much to say, she really didn't want to
do the interview. On some basic level it was like someone was holding
up a sign in her head saying, "Don't go there." It wasn't that she
felt uncomfortable around the three men. Just the opposite, she
trusted each of them implicitly. She just didn't want to talk about
what had happened.  She wanted to forget it and get on with her life.
But if there was a tiny piece of information she could give Mike that
might help him stop the person that had done this to her from doing
the same thing to someone else AND help keep her from being "Sydney"
for any longer than necessary, it would be worth it.

"Hi Donna," Mike greeted her as he, Sam and Josh walked through the
open bedroom door. She waved to them with as much cheerfulness as
possible.

"How are you doing today, Donna?" Mike asked her.

"Good," she typed. "No offense, Mike, but I'm ready to have this done
and over with."

Mike smiled, "No offense taken, perfectly understandable. But please
try and relax, I'm going to try and make this as painless as possible.
Why don't we all sit over at the table?" She nodded and the four of
them moved to sit around the table. Josh and Sam took up positions on
her right and her left and Mike sat across from her. "Donna this is
how I thought we'd do this. I'm going to record our conversation," he
said, setting a small handheld recorder on the table. "Now, since you
obviously can't talk, I'm going to ask you to type out your answers on
your PDA and then give it to Sam and he will read them."

Donna frowned and waived her hand to stop him. "Why Sam and not Josh?"
she typed. "No offense, Sam."

"None taken," Sam said.

"Donna," Josh began, laying his hand gently on her uninjured arm.
"There are a couple of reasons why letting Sam do it is a good idea."

"Like what?"

"Sam's a neutral party," he exhaled. He'd hoped he wouldn't have to
tell her this part, "And because after Mike is done talking to you,
he's got a appointment with me in my office to take my statement. It
would be better if I wasn't officially involved in him taking your
statement."

She frowned again, "Your statement about what?"

He spoke quietly to her, not softly enough that Mike and Sam couldn't
hear but quietly enough that he hoped it softened his words for her.
"Remember when I told you that your attacker called me?" She nodded.
"Well, Ron got the last part of the conversation on tape but not the
first part. They want to question me about the part not on tape."

Frantically, she started to type. "You're not in trouble are you?
Because of me?" Laying the phone down on the table in front of him,
she placed her hand over his where it was still resting on her arm.

Beyond touched that she was concerned for him, he turned his hand
under hers, until their palms were together.  He wrapped her hand
gently in his, "No, of course not.  Mike just wants to talk to me like
he wants to talk to you.  Nothing more," he said, reassuringly.

"Donna," Sam said.  "If it makes you feel any better, I was planning
on being there with Josh."

Nodding to Sam and sliding her hand from his, she picked up the phone
and started typing again, "I want to be there, too."

"No," he said, simply. There was no way he was going to let her hear
him talk about the vile, twisted things that bastard had said to him.
She started to type something again, but this time he laid his hand
over hers to stop her.  "No, Donna. Trust me when I say that it's not
a good idea."

She looked at him for a moment and remembered their discussion about
the phone call a couple of days ago. That was the discussion that had
included the fact that her attacker thought she was dead. Then Josh
had told her that her attacker had merely rambled on about things like
a lunatic and that there hadn't been much more to the call than that.
She also recalled thinking that Josh was lying but hadn't pursued it
because she hadn't been sure she was ready to hear what he hadn't
said. But now that it involved him and him having to be interviewed by
the FBI, it made her ready.

Mike and Sam sat there silently as Josh and Donna continued to discuss it.

Donna typed out something and then she laid her hand back on his. "I
want to be there with you. Just like you've been there for me."

Josh ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to say yes. Wanted to
grant her request. But his desire to shield her was greater. He'd
often found that being honest with her worked the best so he went with
that. "Donna, there are some things I didn't tell you about what he
said during the call. He told me what he did...to you. Most of it
anyway. I have to tell Mike the details. It's not going to be
pleasant."

Part of her ached for him and the knowledge he had. Terrible knowledge
about what had happened to her that even she didn't have. Another part
of her wanted to run from hearing anything about it. After all, her
lack of memory was a huge gift. Why should she look a gift horse in
the mouth? Donna considered that and it seemed to make her headache go
up a notch. Because it was for Josh. If it meant she could be there to
support him, even in some tiny way, then she could and would do it.
Just like he'd done for her. "We both know that life isn't always
pleasant, Josh," she typed. "But I need to this. For both of us."

He looked at her, saw the strength and the determination in her eyes,
and knew that she wasn't just saying the words. She meant each one.
Her courage humbled him and made him love her that much more.  "Okay,"
he said.  Turning to Mike, he said, "We'll just do my interview up
here as soon as we finish with hers."

Mike nodded.  "Not a problem." He took a breath, glad now that they'd
worked the issue out between themselves. "Now...as I was saying.
You'll type your answers to my questions and Sam will read them. This
afternoon I'll have everything transcribed into a hard copy and I'll
have the transcript sent over to you. You'll review it and if you feel
it's accurate, you'll sign it and a letter stating it is an accurate
accounting of your statement.  Understand?" Donna nodded. "Good. Okay,
the sooner we start, the sooner we'll be done so let begin."  He
pressed the button on the recorder. "For the record, what is your full
name?"

"Donnatella Katherine Moss." Sam read it aloud for the recorder.

"What can you tell me about the events of late Saturday, August the
7th and early Sunday, August the 8th?"

"I'm afraid not very much. Almost all my memory from that time is
gone." Sam read.

"Okay, let's back up for a moment.  What were you doing earlier in the
evening?" Mike asked in a calm but official sounding tone.

"I was working at the White House until about 11 p.m. on Saturday the 7th."

"And for the record, what is your position at the White House?"

"I'm the senior assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff for Strategic
Planning, Joshua Lyman," Sam read in his clear, crisp voice.

"And how long have you held that position?" he asked. Although the
questions were routine and basic, he was trying to keep her at ease.

"Almost 6 years."

"Before you left the White House that night, did you speak to anyone?"

"Yes. Joshua Lyman."

"Anyone else?" Mike asked.

"No, it was late and I don't believe there was anyone else there at
that time," she typed and Sam recited.

"Do you remember driving back to your apartment?"

"Vaguely," her headache seemed to be getting slowly worse and she
rubbed her temple a little.

The action was not lost on Josh. He thought about asking her if she
was feeling all right but wanted to let her get through this.

"Was there anything remarkable about the drive?  Was someone following
you or were there any incidents you can remember?"

Donna thought about that for a moment. "No. I don't remember anything
like that. It was late and things were pretty quiet."

"Do you remember making it to your apartment complex?"

"Yes.  I remember parking and then reaching in the back for my purse.
But it wasn't there. Then I remembered I left it at work."

"What do you remember after that point?" he asked her.

She frowned and rubbed the uninjured side of her forehead. The
headache had started to throb a little with each beat of her heart.
She stared off at a point over Mike's shoulder, her eyes trying to see
that night, see it as it had happened. "I remember thinking it was
okay that my purse was at work because it would be safe there and I
still had my keys and my cell phone. Then I..." her typing trailed off
as she stared at the same spot and continued to rub her forehead.

"Donna?" Josh said, quietly. At his voice, her head snapped around to
look at him. 'Her eyes are a bit dazed,' he thought. "Are you feeling
all right?"  She looked at him blankly, almost like he wasn't really
there. It was the same look she'd had in the hospital when she'd first
woken up. He spoke quietly and gently to her. "Donna?"

At that moment, Donna wasn't seeing him, her mind was lost in the
fragment of a memory. Like a specter it rose from her mind. Darkness.
Cold. Pain.  Even though she had no conscious memory of it, the three
words fell from her lips in a rough whisper. Loud enough that the all
three men had heard them. Sam repeated them to make sure the recorder
picked them up.

"Donna." Becoming concerned with the color that had apparently all but
leached out of her face, Josh reached out to touch her arm. She jumped
as if he'd stuck her with an electric cattle prod. "I'm sorry.  I
didn't mean to startle you."

She put her hand over her heart to steady herself. Taking the phone
back from Sam she typed something. "What did you say?"

"I said I was sorry I startled you. Are you feeling all right?" Josh asked her.

"Yes, fine," she lied and hoped her galloping heart didn't give her
away. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you've been rubbing your head and you kind of checked-out
there for a minute."

"My headache is still bothering me a little bit."

"Donna..." Mike began. "You said, 'darkness, cold, pain.' Can you tell
me what those words meant?"

Not wanting to get pulled under again in the rip current of the
memory, she focused on Josh to center herself. She felt his hand cover
her arm again and it provided another steadying link. "I think it was
cold in my apartment, really cold," she typed and Sam repeated.

"Anything else?" Mike asked.  "Anything at all?  Images, smells,
shapes, impressions, feelings?"

Donna sat and thought for a moment longer.  Then shook her head.
"Nothing else until I woke up. But even that's fuzzy. It was morning.
Early. I remembering thinking I was hung over or had the flu. My head
hurt and I was nauseous, everything hurt and it was hard to breathe."

"Do you remember calling 911?" he asked.

She thought for a moment, "No. Did I?"

"Yes. The operator heard noise but she wasn't able to make out any
words. Luckily D.C.'s 911 can track incoming calls. The police found
the phone off the hook and on the floor."

"Oh. I don't remember that.  I remember waking up in the ambulance and
I remember the emergency room," she typed out so Sam could read her
response.

Mike went over some notes he'd made.  She hadn't really given him any
information, although the thing about the apartment being cold nagged
at him a bit. He wasn't sure why.  She'd probably just felt cold from
the shock from her injuries and the trauma of the experience. But he
made a note to talk to the officers that were on scene and see if they
remembered anything about her apartment being oddly cold when they
arrived. He smiled at her.  "Okay, Donna," he said, switching off the
recorder. "I think that about does it for your interview.  If you
remember anything, anything at all even if it's just a feeling or
scent or color, call me right away. Anything, no matter how
insignificant you think it might be, could be important."  Donna
nodded.

"Okay, do we need break before we start on Josh's statement?"

Josh looked at Donna and she shook her head.  "Are you sure you don't
want to take something for your headache?"

"I will when you're done," she told him.

"You sure?" She nodded.  "Okay, Mike, let's get this over with."

Mike nodded and switched on the recorder again. "For the record can
you state your full name and your current job."

"Joshua David Lyman and I have been the Deputy Chief of Staff for
Strategic Planning for President Josiah Bartlet for approximately the
last 6 years."

"You are also Miss Moss' direct supervisor, is that correct?" Mike
asked, trying to keep things as objective and official as possible.

"That's correct."

"What can you tell me about the morning of Sunday, August the 8th?"
Mike asked him.

"After leaving George Washington Hospital where Donnatella Moss was
being treated I went to her apartment to pack some clothing and other
items for her. As I was getting in my car to return to the hospital,
my cell phone rang. The ring tone for the call and caller ID on the
phone both read for Miss Moss but I knew she was in the hospital and
couldn't speak so I assumed it couldn't have been her calling me.
After speaking to the caller for a few moments I realized her alleged
attacker had called me."

"And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"What he said.  He knew things about what had happened to Miss Moss
during her assault. He also he indicated that he'd killed her and
taken her cell phone and her White House identification. Since no one
but the police, the hospital staff, myself and CJ Cregg, the White
House Press Secretary knew of Miss Moss' assault, I concluded it must
be her assailant," Josh explained.

"Why did he call you?" Mike asked.

"Well, he said he needed to tell someone what he'd done and didn't
feel it was something he could exactly call the newspapers about. He
called me specifically because I was the first person entered in the
speed dial listing on her cell phone. He seemed very fascinated with
that. He observed that you could tell a lot about what was important
to a person by looking at their speed dial listing. He wanted to know
who I was to her to rank so high. He said he wanted me to understand
why he'd killed her and he wanted to know if I had been her boyfriend.
I told him it was something like that." He glanced at Donna who
silently laid her hand on his in understanding.

Josh continued, "He also wanted to know if I worked at the White House
with her and if that was where we met. I tried to throw him off by
saying that she and I met at a party. That's when he told me he'd
stolen her White House identification."

"How did you come to contact Secret Service Agent Ron Butterfield?"
Mike asked him.

"It's standard procedure that all attacks and threats to White House
personnel be reported to the Secret Service so Agent Butterfield
already knew about her assault. But since all White House issued cell
phones are equipped with a tracking device, I thought maybe he'd be
able to trace the call, so I drove to White House and contacted him.
At which time he was able to record the latter half of the call," Josh
told him.

'Now comes the hard part,' Mike thought. "Did the caller give you any
reason why he allegedly assaulted Miss Moss?"

Josh looked at Donna. Her blue eyes and bruised face looked up at him
and she nodded to let him know it was okay.

"He started becoming a bit erratic at that point. Like he was talking
about a mission he was on.  He said she was a whore and when I told
him not to speak about her like that he said he didn't mean to offend
me but all women were whores, especially the blonde ones. He was
rambling on about their hair being their 'scarlet letter' or something
like that and how they used sex and anything else they could to get
men to do what they wanted. But he knew the truth about them and he
was going to take care of all of them. He said someday, mankind would
thank him for ridding the world of them. He really did sound
completely crazy. He said she was his first and he was so glad he'd
picked her."

"Why was that?" Mike asked him.

"He said it was s sign or something that it was meant to be. He said
it we couldn't have whores in the government," Josh finished, feeling
both clean and filthy at the same time. As if saying the words aloud
had cleansed him but having to be the one that passed them onto others
in the form of verbal words, especially Donna who'd already suffered
so much, had also stained him.

"Is there anything else you'd like to add?" Mike asked.

"No, I can't think of anything," Josh replied.

"Okay," he said, switching off the recorder.  "Well, Josh, like I told
Donna if you think of anything else, no matter how insignificant, call
me." He put the recorder and some paperwork in his briefcase and
closed it. "You guys did great. Thanks for your time. The transcripts
of your interviews should be sent over later today or first thing
tomorrow morning," he told them.

"Bye, Mike," Josh called as the FBI agent left.  "Hey, Sam, thanks for
all your help." Josh paused.  "Could you give Donna and me a second?"

"Sure, no problem," Sam said.

Donna put her hand on his arm, "Thanks for being here, Sam."

He smiled warmly at her, "You bet. I'm just glad I could help." With
that he headed downstairs to pester Toby.

Josh put his hands on her upper arms, "How you doing? Is your headache
any better?"

She shrugged and then typed.  "I'm okay. My headache is about the same."

"Did Abbey have a chance to take a look at you this morning?"

"Yes. She said I was probably just stressed about the interview. I
guess I didn't do very well," she typed.

He frowned at that, "Why do you say that?"

"I didn't tell him anything he didn't already know."

"Well, he was aware of your memory loss before he came in here. And
you did remember that thing about the cold."

She rolled her eyes and then typed. "Oh yeah.  That will crack the
case WIDE open."

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself, Donna. You told him what you could
and that's all he was looking for." He didn't like to see her so down
on herself.

She looked up at him, "You think?"

"I know," he told her. "Now, I want you to take some more Advil for
your headache and then lie down and relax. Put this out of your mind.
Watch some TV or read a book or take a nap or something. Text message
me if you don't feel better in a little bit.  I've got to go
downstairs and make sure Sam isn't driving Toby too crazy.

"I'm sure you've already missed the boat on that one, Joshua," Donna
typed with a little smirk.

He gave her a full dimpled smile, "Well, you're probably right about
that but I've got to try."

Something in her seemed to settle at the sight of his dimples. "Okay,
I'll try to stay out of trouble."

He grinned this time and walked to the door. "See, that, right there,
that's what's called leaving yourself open to be snarked." He stopped
in the doorway. "But I'll let you off the hook and let you use your
'get out of the snark free' card." With that, he set out to find Sam.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 15 - MATURE



Donna moved over to the dresser and took some more Advil for her
headache which, although it had not decreased, had not increased
either. Going over to the bed, she laid back and used the remote to
switch on the TV. She began flipping through the channels looking for
something to watch. Talk shows and soap operas on the major networks.
Boring and inane. Mid-day news on the local channels. Like she didn't
get to watch enough news when she was working. True crime documentary
about serial killers on A&E.  Probably not the best viewing choice in
the world for her right then. Old episodes of Wheel of Fortune and
Card Sharks on the Game Show Channel. Yeah, because she didn't need
the remaining brain cells she had.  Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman on the
Hallmark Channel. She wasn't quite that desperate. A Godzilla movie on
the Sci-Fi Channel.  She REALLY wasn't that desperate. Law & Order on
USA. God, she hated that show. You couldn't turn the channel and not
find L&O or one of its variant spin-offs on. Some Jacqueline Smith
movie on Lifetime. Blech.

Just as she was ready to concede that even in the White House where
you could get every TV channel imaginable, there was nothing on to
watch, she found it.  "I Love Lucy" on TV Land. You could never go
wrong with "I Love Lucy." Tossing the remote back on the night stand,
she laid back and started to watch the episode where Lucy and Ethel go
into business selling Aunt Martha's Old Fashioned Salad Dressing.
About the time Ricky was telling Lucy why she'd be losing money on
each jar instead of making it, Donna's eyes slid closed.

Even in the daylight the nightmare chased her. Quietly it rose from
her subconscious as her body relaxed into sleep. Since Donna would not
acknowledge it when she was awake it would find the path to expression
in her nightmares. Raw and unformed, it was more image than substance,
more feeling than logic.

At first is was only darkness, but a darkness so deep and complete
that it was hard to believe light existed anywhere else in the
universe. It was as if all light and hope in that time and in that
place had been removed, erased, eradicated.

Then there was the cold. An invisible, fathomless, bitter cold that
sliced silently through the blackness, drawing blood, stealing breath
and freezing flesh and bone until it cracked. There was no warmth, no
heat. Only despair.

But as terrible as they were, even the dark and the cold were not the
worst part. It was the sound that truly terrified her. Skittering.
Groaning. Slithering. Growling. Scratching. Hissing. Creeping. First
distinct and individual, the sounds began to organize, until, like
voices joining together one by one, they reached a deafening
crescendo. Like blood in the water will call sharks to feed, the
sounds called out into the darkness for the monster. Telling it of the
fresh prey.

Even in the dark and over the roar of all the other sounds, she heard
it coming. Heard it racing toward her. It knew her secrets and it knew
how to hurt her. Like a terrible heartbeat it came. She tried to cover
her ears, tried to run from it, or in some other feeble way, protect
herself but she was trapped and there was nowhere to run and no one to
run to. She was alone with the monster. Her only chance was that she
could hide in the darkness. But when it made an evil sound, which she
somehow instinctively knew was a chuckle, she realized that it could
see in the dark. See HER in the dark. Then it was on her like a swarm
of mutant wasps. Stabbing into her, inside her, washing over her in
waves of primal pain and horror.

And then the most terrifying of all...it whispered her name.

Snapping awake with a strangled cry, Donna sat up. The room was filled
with sunlight and warmth but in her first few waking moments she saw
and felt none of it. Terrified, she blindly leapt from the bed,
knocking the lamp from the nightstand and breaking the base into a
number of pieces.

Her heart was racing, her breathing ragged as if she'd just run 20
miles and her head was throbbing like someone was playing a base drum
inside it. Ignoring the pain in her injured arm she pressed both hands
to the sides of her head to try and make the pain stop. Then the
nausea came. Greasy waves of it rolled through her stomach.

Stumbling into the bathroom with a tearless sob she began to retch
violently into the toilet. Because she'd been asleep for a while and
hadn't eaten lunch, there wasn't a whole lot in her stomach to throw
up but it didn't seem to matter. It was like her body was trying to
excise something other than food. Then she felt warm, gentle hands
touch her head and pull back her hair. Instinctively she knew it was
Josh. While one hand continued to hold her hair, his other hand moved
to her back and began rubbing it in soft circles.

Josh watched her with concern as her dry heaving continued. "Go get
Mrs. Bartlet, Sam." He nodded and disappeared into the bedroom.
Although he'd planned on checking on her earlier, things had been a
little busier than he'd expected downstairs and he'd been delayed.
He'd hoped she hadn't had lunch yet and was going to see if she wanted
him and Sam to eat with her. They'd been just down the hall from her
room when they'd heard the crash of the lamp and had entered her room
just as she'd darted unsteadily into the bathroom.

Slowly her body seemed to run out of steam and the heaving slowed and
then stopped. She leaned her head wearily on the toilet seat while
Josh jumped up and got her a wet washcloth. He touched her shoulder to
give her the cloth but she was so limp and exhausted she just fell
away from the toilet. He put his arm behind her shoulders and pulled
her to his chest. Josh tipped her head up a bit and began gently
cleaning her face with the cloth.

"I called her office, Mrs. Bartlet's on her way up," Sam told them.  "She okay?"

Josh look down at Donna, her blue eyes were a little glazed as she
looked up at him, misery clearly written in them. "I think so. What do
you say, Donna?  Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," she said, it came out more as her mouthing the words than
any real vocalized speech.

"Shhhh. Don't be sorry. But if you weren't feeling good, why didn't
you text message me?"  She opened her mouth to say something but
nothing came out. "Sam, would you get her a glass of water?" Sam
filled a glass sitting by the sink and handed it to Josh.  "Here, use
this to rinse your mouth," carefully he lifted the glass and held it
while she took a drink and swished in her mouth a bit. Holding her up
a bit she spit the water into the toilet. "Sam, could you flush that?"
Sam did so silently, glad he was able to help in little ways. "Now
take a couple small swallows," he told Donna, holding the glass up for
her again. She sat up a little to drink but then sagged back against
him, as if such a small thing had been a monumentally draining effort.
 "How are you feeling?" He put his phone in her hand so she could
answer.

"Headache bad. Nauseous," she typed.

"Does anything hurt?" he asked her.

"Hey, that's my line," Abbey said from the doorway. "I hear someone
isn't feeling well. Donna, do you think you can make into the other
room if Josh and Sam help you?" Donna looked up at Abbey and after a
moment, nodded. "Guys, why don't you help her stand and we'll get her
somewhere she can be more comfortable." Sam and Josh stood on each
side of her and being careful of her elbow, all but lifted her gently
to her feet.  She swayed a bit and Josh put his arm around her waist
and pulled her close to him. Together with Sam and Abbey right behind
them in case Donna passed out or anything, they moved into the
bedroom.

Josh tried to steer her toward the bed but she pulled away, shaking
her head with a soft whimper. "You want the couch instead?" She nodded
quickly.  Sam moved around them to pull the coffee table out of the
way. Donna sank down on the couch and just as Josh had seen her do on
a number of occasions, he opened the window slightly to let the breeze
in.

"Now," Abbey said, getting out her medical bag.  "What were telling
Josh when I walked in?" Donna showed her the phone which she hadn't
change since she'd typed it for Josh. Abbey frowned.  "So your
headache is worse?"  Donna nodded.  "That's probably what's causing
your nausea." She turned to Josh and Sam. "Guys, why don't to close
all the curtains and turn down the lights. Lots of times, light can
make a headache worse." Abbey felt something grip her arm. She turned
back to see Donna with a death grip on her arm shaking her head
frantically. Naked fear, almost terror was in her eyes. "You want the
light?" Donna nodded quickly.

"Okay, okay," Abbey said soothingly. "We'll leave everything the way
it is. Now the first thing you have to do is try and relax. Let me
just check a few things."  Abbey set about taking Donna's vital signs
and checking for any problems with her pupil responses that might
indicate that something was going on neurologically. "Well, Donna, you
don't have a fever and except for your pulse being a bit fast and your
blood pressure a bit high, which is normal after a stressful event
like vomiting, you seem okay.  Were you upset about something? Did the
interview with Agent Casper go badly?"

Donna shook her head and started typing, "It went fine but that's when
my headache got worse. I was trying to remember but it was hard
because my head kept throbbing." Then after everyone left I took some
more Advil and laid down to watch TV. I actually thought it was
getting better."

"And?"

Donna glanced at Josh and then back at Abbey before she typed in the
answer, "I had a nightmare."

"Was it the first one you've had since the attack?" Abbey asked her gently.

"No," Donna saw Josh stiffen and his face frown with concern. "I had
one last night." Donna would almost see the wheels of blame turning in
Josh's head. He'd been gone last night so Donna had a nightmare.  That
was the way things worked in the world according to Josh. "But the one
last night wasn't bad. This one....was."

Abbey looked at her for a minute.  "How are you feeling now?  Better? Worse?"

Donna thought for a minute, "Better I guess.  My head's not throbbing
quite so much and I'm not so nauseous anymore." Donna looked at Abbey
for a minute.  "What's wrong with me?"

"Well, Donna I think the problem may be a couple of things. I think
you were stressed about the interview and remembering unpleasant
things and that probably started your headache. Then the interview
itself made it worse and the nightmare just rounded things out to give
you a whopper of a headache. The nausea was just a side effect of the
headache.  Your head injury might also be playing into it.

Headaches, days, weeks, months even, after a concussion are not
uncommon. I imagine it was a combination of all those things. I can
give you something a little stronger for your headache if you like. Or
I could give you a sedative to help keep your stress level down."
Abbey paused and watched as Donna shook her head. "Okay. It's up to
you. However I'm going to insist that someone stay with you for at
least the rest of today to make sure that your headache doesn't get
any worse or you don't have any other problems." Donna nodded.

"I'll stay with her," Josh said. "That is if Sam will help me farm out
the rest of the stuff that I need to take care of downstairs."

"Of course, Josh.  Anything I can do to help," Sam told him.

Josh looked down at Donna, "Looks like I'm all yours."

Donna shook her head. "I don't want to keep you from more important things."

He smiled down at her, "You're not. Right now, you are the most
important thing."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 16 - MATURE



"Josh?"

Josh looked up from the briefing memo he was reading, "Hey, Sam."

"CJ said you wanted to see me," Sam replied from the doorway. It was
Friday afternoon and he'd just been down harassing Toby. Being in the
White House as a free roaming visitor was quite a different experience
than when he'd been working here. It was definitely more relaxing
being a visitor but on the other hand, it didn't quite charge him up
the way working there had. In any case, it was great to see everyone
again.

"Yeah, Sam," he waved his hand to indicate Sam should come in.  "Close
the door."

Sam wondered if this had anything to do with Donna. He knew that she'd
been weighing heavily on Josh's mind ever since the attack. Well,
she'd been weighing on ALL their minds since the attack but no one
more so than Josh.  Sam had seen a new side of Josh in the week he'd
been in DC and it had everything to do with Donna. Although he wasn't
sure if Josh realized it or was ready to acknowledge it, his
non-friendship kind of love for Donna had been clearly evident. Sam
only hoped that what had happened to Donna wouldn't be too big a
stumbling block for them to overcome. He'd known for a long time that
there was MAJOR subtext going on between Josh and Donna and he'd
always hoped that someday they might actually admit that. He closed
the door and went to lean again the credenza that sat in front of
Josh's huge chalk board. "What's up?" he asked Josh.

"I need your help, Sam."

"Like I said, Josh, anything I can do," Sam replied.

Josh sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I was talking to CJ and she
pointed out that we have a bit of a problem." He paused.  "Mrs.
Bartlet tells me that she's mostly likely going to give Donna her
medical release tomorrow afternoon.  Including the green light for her
to start talking again. Which means Donna can move into her apartment
on Sunday. We had a brief discussion about it in senior staff this
morning and we decided that Donna should take one more week before
coming back to work as Sydney. We figured that she could use the time
to get settled in her apartment, buy some clothes and ease back into
the world so to speak. Plus she's supposed to wear her sling for
another week so if she waits, "Sydney" won't need to wear it when she
starts working. CJ also felt it would have the added benefit of
throwing the press that much more off the trail because I've already
gone through two temporary assistants and so it will look natural for
someone new to be stepping in as my assistant."

"Okay, sounds good so far but I don't see why you need my help," Sam said.

Josh ran his hand over his face. "Yeah, I can't be seen with her when
she leaves the Residence," he said, with a note of frustration in his
voice. "Pretty much none of us can. Since 'Sydney' doesn't even
officially work here yet..."

"It would seem pretty weird to anyone bothering to notice that anyone
from the senior staff was hanging around her," Sam finished with a
nod.

"Right. So since you're under the Beltway radar these days, I need you
to look after Donna for me and help her get settled in her apartment,"
Josh told him.

"Sure. Not a problem. Whatever she needs."

"Thanks Sam, I wish...." he paused.

"You wish you could do it yourself but you can't so you need someone
you trust to do it for you," Sam said.

"Have you been calling the psychic friends hotline again?" Josh asked,
looking at his friend with a little smirk. "'Cause right there it
sounded like you knew what I was going to say before I said it."

Sam smiled softly, "Josh, I did know what you were going to say. When
it comes to Donna you can be, you know, kind of transparent."

Josh looked at him for a minute, "Yeah, I guess I can. I just....need
to know she's okay."

"I know," Sam replied.  "Don't worry.  I'll see to it."

**********

She brushed at the bangs of the wig. It was Sunday and moving day. One
week to the day that this odyssey had started for her.

Donna adjusted the wig slightly and felt the conflicting emotions of
oppression and safety settle over her as she stared back at Sydney.
Just as Shannon and Patricia had promised, a package containing all
the remaining parts of her costume, now customized to fit her
perfectly, had arrived on Friday. Abbey and Zoey had scrounged her up
a large pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt to wear so she had
something other than her one set of "work clothes" to wear until she
could go shopping. Said shopping was planned for Tuesday and, if
necessary, Wednesday, and Sam, bless his heart, had volunteered to go
with her. They were going to hit a number of thrift shops and second
hand stores in Baltimore to find Sydney some clothes. Of course, when
Toby found out about Sam being her new fashion consultant, he'd taken
every opportunity to snark him about being the newest cast member on
"Queer Eye for the Straight Guy." But Sam, being Sam, had taken it all
in stride.

Sam had been a rock for her and Josh in the past week. She knew he'd
been taking care of everything related to moving her things from the
old to the new apartment and after all the backbiting and turmoil that
Josh had been through with Leo and Angela Blake, Donna was glad that
Josh had Sam, someone who was outside the situation, yet could
identify objectively with what Josh was going through, to talk to and
rely on.

As for Josh himself, he'd been busy the last few days. Apparently,
there had been a couple of issues with the Senate leadership that
Angela hadn't been able to handle on her own and so Leo had asked Josh
to step in. Josh had risen to the challenge, seeing it as a way to get
back into Leo's good graces. But even with his full schedule he'd
still found time to come up and have lunch and usually dinner with
her.  There was also the fact, that although she'd tried to talk him
out of it, he had insisted on continuing to sleep on the couch in her
room at night.

Him staying with her had its good and its bad points. It was good
because she seemed to be more calm when he was around. Just his
presence seemed to settle her and helped keep the demons at bay. It
had been three days since the interview and the afternoon nightmare.
Thankfully, there hadn't been a repeat of the nightmare.  Of course
another reason for that was that fact that she simply refused to think
about...the thing. What had happened to her or the nightmares. When
thoughts of them tried to surface she shoved them back down by sheer
force of will.

The problem with him staying with her was that she had to sleep in the
bed and not on the couch like she wanted to. She'd quickly discovered
that after the last nightmare, she could no longer fall asleep in the
bed. So she'd lie there in the low light from the new lamp that had
replaced the one she broke, for most of the night and listen to him
softly snore. The sound of him sleeping had comforted her more than
she cared to admit but she still hadn't been able to sleep. When she
was sure he was asleep, she would pull out some book she'd
'confiscated' from the President's study and lie in bed and read.
Anything to keep her mind from thinking too hard.

In the morning after Josh had gotten up, had a quick breakfast with
her, showered and changed, and headed downstairs, she would set an
alarm on her phone to wake her in a few hours and she would sack out
on the couch. The alarm would wake her in time to take a shower and
get dressed before he arrived for lunch. She'd repeat the cycle in the
afternoon, being sure to get up in time to get ready in case he came
up to have dinner with her.

"You ready, Donna?" Sam gently asked her from the doorway.

"Yes," she said, her voice still a bit rough. Mrs. Bartlet had cleared
her to start talking the day before and it was still getting use to
it. Between the injury and the disuse, her voice was a little gravelly
and she got hoarse very quickly.

"I've got everything loaded in the car.  We can go whenever you're ready."

"Thanks, Sam," she replied.

"I'll wait in the other room," he said, hooking a thumb over his
shoulder. Then he disappeared into the bedroom.

Donna checked her make-up in the mirror.  She'd done pretty good job
of covering the bruises, many of which were thankfully beginning to
fade, almost as good as Patricia. Because they were going right to the
apartment, Donna wasn't wearing her contacts, so she pulled out a pair
of dark sunglasses that Josh had given her to wear. They were so big
they reminded her of something that Jackie O would have worn.

Josh.

She wished he were here. He'd talked to her already about the fact
that they couldn't be seen together during the next week. While Donna
understood, it didn't mean she had to like the idea. Josh had been
with her all the way so far and to not have him there when she got to
see her new apartment, an apartment that he himself had taken the time
to find for her, just seemed wrong. Still, she thought, she had to
learn to stand on her own.  She couldn't keep relying on him for
everything.  She wouldn't be a burden to anyone, least of all to him.
Now would be as good a time as any to start doing things on her own.
While that thinking satisfied her head, her heart was heavy at the
thought of moving into her new place without him. Taking a breath and
clutching the sunglasses in her hand, she walked out of the bathroom.

Sam was waiting for her by the door. "Ready?" Donna nodded and as they
turned to leave, the President and Mrs. Bartlet came in the door.

"Oh, good," Abbey said.  "We hoped we'd back from mass in time to say
goodbye. Sam, could you give us a minute?"

"Of course. Donna, I'll wait for you at the top of the stairs."
Seeing her nod, he turned and left the room.

"Mr. President, Mrs. Bartlet," Donna began.  "I just wanted to say how
wonderful you've been to let me stay here. I know you probably got
more than you bargained for, but I just wanted to say thank you."

"What are you talking about?" Abbey said.  "You were no trouble at
all.  In fact, I loved watching you kick Jed's butt at gin.  Twice,"
Abbey said with a little smirk, referring to the fact that Donna has
beaten Jed in the gin rematch as well. By the time they were done with
the game, the room had looked like an M&M factory had exploded in it.

"I thought I put out a Presidential decree that said no one in the
White House was ever supposed to speak of that again," Jed protested.

"Oh, didn't you get my memo? I'm immune to those decrees," Abbey said to him.

"Ma'am, I believe the word you're looking for is 'impervious,'" Donna put in.

"Impervious? Hmmm.  Good word. I like it."

"Don't encourage her, Donna, or she'll be completely unbearable." The
President replied. His expression softened, "Donna, you'll always be
welcome in our home.  Whether we're here in DC or in Manchester." He
paused, "Now can the leader of the free world get a hug from our
departing house guest?"

Donna smiled gently. It didn't hurt to smile so much anymore but like
talking she was still getting use to do it again. Leaning forward,
they embraced warmly.  "Thank you, sir," she said softly.

"Very nice, Jed," Abbey said when Donna and Jed broke apart. "Now,
Donna, if you have any problems or questions or you need anything,
anything at all, you call me. Before I let you out of here, I'm going
to need a hug too." The two women hugged each other.

"You've been so wonderful, Mrs. Bartlet. 'Thank you' doesn't seem like enough."

Abbey tightened her hug gently, "It's more than enough, Donna."

The two of them parted. "Well, I guess I should go, Sam's waiting."

Abbey moved over to stand next to Jed as Donna walked to the door.
"Take care," Abbey called to her.

Donna paused in the doorway and looked back at the room that had been
her home for the last week and the two people that had been more like
parents to her than her own. A lump the size of Josh's ego was
suddenly lodged in her throat. "Bye," she finally said. Then she
turned quickly and walked down the hall to where Sam waited for her.

**********

Since the apartment was fairly close, the ride over was short. When
they stopped in front of a lovely brownstone, Donna blinked from
behind her sunglasses. "Why are we stopping here?"

"This is it." Sam said, with a smile.

"THIS is it?" Donna asked in astonishment. Cheerful flower boxes
decorated the windows of the older, but well-tended building.

"Yep. I think you'll like the apartment," Sam told her with a grin.
Donna stared at him for a moment not saying anything. Then she looked
from him back to the building and back to him again, as if when she
turned back it would somehow look different, more like what she'd
expected. "But I definitely think that you'll like it better if we go
inside than you will from the car," he said.

"Oh, right," she replied with a smile.

"Let's go upstairs so you can see your new place then I'll come back
down and get your things," Sam told her as they got out of the car.
"Here are your keys," he said, handing her a small key ring and a
small piece of paper. "The paper has the pass code for the front door
on it. Each tenant has a different code," he told her as they walked
up the front steps. The front door was wide, with a large glass panel
and covered with a beautiful wrought iron facade that flowed into a
beautiful floral pattern. It was functional as well as lovely because
the iron would protect the window and anyone inside it. Although she
didn't notice them there were also two video cameras mounted, one on
each side of the front entrance. Each apartment came with a small
video monitor so the occupants could see who was standing at the
entrance.

Donna merely stood there for a moment, trying to take it all in. The
door might have been the gates of heaven itself, it was so
magnificent. Her old apartment had been spartan and simple and that
included the entrance as well as the units. Standing here now, she
felt a bit like Little Orphan Annie coming to Daddy Warbucks' mansion
for the first time.

"Go ahead Sydney, enter your code," Sam urged, using her alter ego's
name as they were standing outside.

"Okay," she said, shaking herself out of her daze and stepping up to
the small keypad next to the door. Reading the number off the piece of
paper, she pressed her 6 digit code into it and heard the lock on the
door click open. Sam pulled the door open for her and ushered her
inside. It was almost grander than the outer entrance.  They now stood
in a wide foyer, well lit by the glass entrance door and the large
window that rose above it.  The floor was a warm welcoming hardwood
and the walls were decorated in a soft, muted mural of vines and
floral patterns on walls of pale yellow with crisp white trim. To
their direct left, there was a small elevator. To their direct right
was a bank of mailboxes set into the wall that were each marked with a
unit number. Directly in front of them to the right was a set of
natural wood stairs going up and to the left was a short hallway
heading toward the back of the building.

"The building manager's office is right down that hallway," Sam told
her. "The small key on your key ring is for your mail box. You're in
apartment 2A on the second floor." Donna nodded. "Would you like to
take the stairs or the elevator?" he asked her.

Still recovering from her shock at seeing the beautiful interior, it
took Donna a moment to answer. "The stairs." Sam nodded and the two of
them started walking up. There was a lovely antique runner done in
jeweled toned shades of green and blues and picking up the pattern in
the wall mural in the foyer, laid out on the stairs.

Getting to the top of the stairs, Donna looked around the landing.
There were more hardwood floors here and the walls were decorated in
the same soft yellow and white trim as downstairs but without the
mural. Five doors, all done in the same natural wood as in the floor,
marked the sunny hall. One on her right that must have lead to an
apartment in the back part of the building. Two doors on her left that
must have led to middle apartments. A fourth door toward the end of
the hall on her left that had a small display over it, indicating it
was the door to the elevator, and the fifth door on her extreme left
at the far end of the hall in the direction of the front end of the
building. Sam gently placed his hand on Donna's uninjured elbow and
guided her toward the fifth door at the end of the hall.

They stopped in front of it. 2A, it said. The natural wood door looked
back at her, simple and welcoming. Another small keypad sat just to
the right of the door frame about chest high. "Oh, you're going to
need this too," he said, fishing a small booklet out of his pocket and
handing it to her. "You have a security system in your apartment," he
explained.  "The number written in the front is the starting pass
code.  Once you enter it and, you know, read the directions which I
haven't done, you can change the code to be anything you want.  This
panel and security system is totally separate from the one down at the
entrance. When the light is green, the security system is off and when
it's red, it's on." He said, pointing to the small lights that were
just above the keypad. The light was red. "If you try to unlock the
door with your key before you turn off the system, the alarm goes off.
To turn off the alarm once it goes off just enter your pass code."

Donna pulled off her sunglasses and looked at him a moment and then
back at the keypad.  Her brain was already swimming and she hadn't
even gotten inside yet.

"Well, are you going to use your X-ray vision or are we going to go
inside?" Sam asked her with a smile.

Donna smiled a bit in return and entered the pass code listed in the
book.  The light went from red to green. This apartment definitely had
more security than her old one.

"Now you can use your key. The same key opens both locks," he told her.

There were two locks. A formidable looking dead bolt and a sturdy
doorknob. Sliding her key into the dead bolt and turning it, she heard
the well oiled click of the tumblers sliding together. Then she put
the key into the doorknob and turned it, hearing the same thing. With
a final wish that Josh could be there with her for the moment, she
turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The door swung noiselessly open and she gasped in surprise. It was
lovely. It was amazing. It was hers. Her stuff was even already moved
into it. Fearing that it was something she was dreaming and when she
tried to touch it, it would disappear, she stood, rooted to the spot
in the doorway, trying to take it all in. From where she stood, it
appeared that the hardwood floors spilled into the apartment from
where she was standing and then continued throughout. As did the soft,
sunny yellow color and white trim on the walls.

The front door opened into a small living room that was big enough for
her old couch, which was now camouflaged by a new slipcover, and her
TV. Two large windows facing the street and the other brownstones
across from hers and framed by white eyelet curtains, flooded the room
with light.

However, there were a couple of notable additions to the room that she
knew had not been among her possessions a week ago.  A large
overstuffed chair, covered in the same fabric as the couch sat to one
side, two new end tables and a matching coffee table, two small
matching lamps, and a number of lovely floor rugs rounded out the
furniture. It was a lovely, comforting and inviting room.

She wanted to pinch herself it was so perfect. "But where did all the
new furniture and stuff come from?"

"Well, come inside and I'll tell you," he said with a smile and
ushered her inside. He closed the door behind them. "Here's another
keypad," he said indicating the one that was mounted inside the
apartment. "So you can set the system at night or while you're home as
well. The little screen above it is a video monitor so if you have a
visitor you can see who it is before you buzz them in. The button just
below the monitor will open the foyer door down stairs. Now, as for
the furniture, they're housewarming presents. The chair is from me.
The lamps, the curtains and the slipcovers are from CJ. The end tables
and the coffee table are from the Bartlets. And the rugs are from
Leo." He paused. "Do you like it? I can change or move around anything
you don't like."

At that moment she was chewing on the fact that Josh hadn't gotten her
anything.  How selfish was she? She had what amounted to a new room of
furniture and all she could think about was what she HADN'T gotten and
whom she hadn't gotten it from. Stuffing that thought down she turned
to him. "Oh, Sam. I wouldn't change anything. It's wonderful. But are
you sure this is where I'M supposed to live?  How can it possibly be
available for the small amount of rent that Josh told me?"

Sam looked at her a moment.  He thought about trying to make up a
story but it was really hard to lie to Donna.  Kind of like lying to
Bambi. "You'll have to ask Josh about that." Better Josh's problem
than his. "Come see the rest of the apartment," he said, urging her
forward. Just past the living area was a small dining room where her
small dining table was sitting. And then there was the kitchen.  It
was long and narrow and had every modern convenience. As with the rest
of the apartment, everything looked well-maintained and fairly new.
There was a dishwasher, refrigerator, and a stove and oven. The
microwave from her old apartment sat in the corner. Over the kitchen
sink was a small greenhouse window that would be perfect for a growing
little pots of herbs. It overlooked a small communal park/garden area
that had been set up between her building and the next one. And the
best of all, hidden behind a small folding door, there was a small,
stacked washer and dryer set. Donna gave a little squeal at that.  No
more laundry rooms or laundromats.

Sam grinned at seeing her reaction to the washer and dryer.  That had
been another touch courtesy of J&S Enterprises, Inc.  The kitchen had
been wired and plumbed with the hookups but the machines themselves
had not been included in the apartment so Sam had picked out a set and
they had been installed on Friday.

Walking toward the bedroom, they made a swing through the bath. It had
two pocket doors. One that made an entrance from the living room and
one that connected it the bedroom. One other nice feature was the fact
there was a tall skinny built-in cabinet in one corner that could be
used as a small linen cabinet and for storage. Otherwise it was a
standard bathroom with a tub/shower combination and a toilet and
pedestal sink.

They walked through the bath and Donna stopped.  Part of her had been
oddly apprehensive about going into the bedroom.  She expected to find
her old furniture and, she figured, bad memories. But there was almost
nothing left of her old bedroom except her bedroom TV. The furniture
was completely different, even down to the lamps that flanked each
side of the new bed. And the bed itself was magnificent.  It was a
natural wood, queen sized sleigh bed with long graceful lines. She'd
never seen such a beautiful bed. It even had all new bedding and a
soft down comforter. The rest of the room was rounded out by a
beautiful new armoire and matching dresser, which was what the TV was
resting on, and a small desk. Besides the TV, only her really personal
items, like knick knacks and photos, remained from her old room. They
were strategically placed on two simple bookcases that sat behind the
desk.  Two more large windows, also flanking the bed and overlooking
the same communal park area next door, added the perfect touch by
throwing light into every corner of the room.

She turned to Sam, who'd waited in the bathroom doorway so she cold
walk around on her own. "Where? How?"

"The bedroom furniture is from Josh," he explained.

Donna's heart swelled and she felt terrible that she'd questioned the
fact that he hadn't gotten her anything earlier. She ran her hand over
the end of the bed.  Maybe she could actually sleep in this one. Just
then she heard a noise. She looked up and heard it again.  It sounded
like laughter. Then it sounded like someone was being shushed. She
looked at Sam, "Did you hear that?"

Sam looked immediately guilty.  He'd heard it and he knew what it was
and he silently told them to shut up. But then there was another
giggle and more shushing. So he decided to play dumb, "Hear what?"

Donna had known Sam long enough to know when he was lying. She looked
over in the direction of the sound. It was coming from the far corner
of the bedroom where a closed door existed. She could see a sliver of
light coming from under the door. "Sam?  What's behind that door?" The
previous noises instantly fell into silence.

"Oh, um...what?"

"I said what's behind that door?"

"Oh, well, yes. Um, that's the closet. But you don't need to see in
there. There's just clothes and stuff.  Say, I know, why don't we go
back in the kitchen and check to make sure all the appliances work."

Donna looked at him for a minute.  Sam was a worse liar than Josh,
which given the fact that Josh was the worst liar on the face of the
earth, was really saying something. "Sure Sam," she said. "Right after
I see what's in my new closet." Part of her mused that she should have
been scared that there was a mysterious giggling, shushing thing in
her closet but she wasn't. Moving over to the door she pulled it open.
And caught CJ, Toby and Josh trying to cram into various hiding places
in the long and narrow walk-in closet. "Hi, guys," she said.

Her gaze fell to Josh who was standing in her round wicker hamper with
the lid in his hand. Obviously he'd been planning to hide inside it.
CJ had been trying to burrow into the hanging clothes but she was so
tall she had to bend her neck at a funny angle to get under the rod
and her feet were all tangled up in a shoe organizer that had been set
up on the floor. She couldn't have been more conspicuous if she'd
tried. As for Toby, he'd tried to crouch down behind some
still-to-be-unpacked boxes stacked on the floor but Donna could see
just the crown of his balding head poking up over it.

Somewhere, deep down in her, a laugh bubbled up.  Donna hadn't laughed
at any time during the last week.  Not even during her gin games with
the President or the M&M throwing. But laugh now she did. Laughter
that shook her entire body and had her clutching her side with her
good arm and had tears gathering in her eyes. Luckily she and 'Sydney'
were wearing waterproof mascara or there would have been some major
raccoon eyes. The four other people in the room stood in stunned
silence watching her. Then, as if on cue they started laughing too.
The room shook with their laughter. Still laughing, Josh climbed out
of the hamper and walked toward her.  Donna held her arm out and he
went to her, wrapping her up in his arms.  It was so wonderful to hear
her laugh again. One by one, Sam, CJ and Toby came up to join them
until they were in one huge laughing, hugging huddle.

When they'd finally calmed down and pulled apart from each other,
Donna pulled off her wig. "So what were you guys doing in the closet?"
she asked as she wiped her eyes as they all walked out into the living
room.

"We were going to wait until you'd had a chance to see everything then
we were going to come out and surprise you with a little housewarming
party," CJ told her as she led them all into the kitchen.

"So you were going to jump out and yell 'surprise' or something?"
Donna asked them with a teasing lilt in her voice.

"No, we figured that might not be the best idea in the world," Josh
picked up the explanation as CJ began to remove boxes of Chinese food
from the oven where they'd been warming. "Sam was supposed to give us
a signal to let us know you'd had a chance to see everything and we
were just going come out and say 'happy housewarming.' But Giggly
Gigglerson over here couldn't shut up long enough....."

"I couldn't help it," CJ said, trying to defend herself. "Toby kept on
saying stuff and then it snowballed and it gave me the giggles and I
couldn't stop.  I swear it was like the time I had to talk to Marion
Coatsworth-Hay." Josh and Toby started setting all the cartons on the
dining room table, while Sam got out dishes and glasses. Donna tried
to help but CJ shoed her out of the kitchen. "Go sit down, Donna.
This is a party for you."

"So what did Toby say that was so funny?" Donna asked as she sat down
at the end of the table. Josh silently set a carton in front of her.
She smiled and flipped open the top. Kung-pao chicken, her favorite.

"Dig in Donna," CJ said as they all began to sit down. "Well, you know
he's been making fun of the fact that Sam's going to help you go
clothes shopping...oh, you tell her Toby.  You tell it better anyway."

Donna poured some of the kung-pao chicken on her plate, passed the
carton onto Josh, who was sitting next to her, and waved her fork at
Toby.  "Yes, Toby. I've been meaning to talk to you about that. He's
helping me out so I'd consider it a personal favor if you'd lay off
the snarky comments." Sam sent her a look of utter gratitude, mixed
with a little smirk that said he appreciated the fact that she was one
of the few people who could smack Toby around and get away with it.
Ever since Rosslyn, Toby'd had a special place in his heart for Donna.

Toby glanced at her, "Donna, why would you ask me to deprive myself of
something that brings me such obvious, you know, pleasure.  With Will
defecting to Bingo Bob, I have no one to harass, except maybe Rena and
she's just no fun. When Sam's around I just can't help it.  He makes
himself such an easy target. I mean he's already such a 'girly man'
and now he's going to help you look for clothes like he was that
Carson guy on Queer Eye for the Whatever. It's cruel for you to expect
me to not make some kind of comment.  Oh, and speaking of 'girly man,'
Sam, why is it that you Californians can't seem to resist electing
Republican actors to office?"

"So our governor always looks good on camera," Sam replied without
missing a beat as he spooned up a large helping of beef and broccoli.
"We are the movie capitol of the world after all," Sam smirked. "If
you've got to have a Republican in office, we say, make sure he looks
good."

"That's what I always say," CJ said, raising her glass in a toast.
Donna, who was drinking soda because of all her medications, clinked
her can against CJ's glass.

"See Sam, it's comments like yours that make you an easy target for
the 'girly man' thing." Toby paused. "Well, thank God at least this
one can't run for President."

"Toby, please, as a favor to me, at least try to keep the snarking to
a minimum when it comes to him helping me find clothes for Sydney.
It's going to be a big enough pain shopping for clothes that are like
4 sizes too big without Sam feeling self conscious about helping me."

After a moment Toby swallowed the bite of orange peel chicken he was
eating, "I'll do my best. I've about run out of material on that front
anyway."

"Thank you, Toby," Donna said.

"You didn't tell her what you were tormenting CJ with in the closet
yet though," Josh said with a smirk and a mouthful of rice. "By the
way, I was the one trying to get them to shut up so we didn't give
ourselves away."  Donna smiled at him.

Toby shot him a dirty look liked he'd been hoping to let their early
discussion be forgotten. "Don't talk with your mouth full, haven't you
heard it's impolite?"

"So's being evasive," Josh's smirk got wider.

Toby glared at Josh again, "Fine.  CJ was whispering about what a good
job Sam had done on the apartment..."

"Thanks, CJ!" Sam said with a grin.  "I was pretty proud of the way it
came out."

"Girly man, girly man, girly man," Toby muttered half under his breath.

"Toby," Donna warned.

"You're welcome, Sam," CJ said, ignoring Toby. It was a well developed
skill that had failed her in the closet but was working just fine
right then. "Continue with what you were saying Toby, tell her what
you said."  Now it was CJ's turn to get the dirty look from Toby. She
turned to Donna, "He's frowning because he's about to tell you
something else you won't like."

"Toby?" Donna prompted.

"Well, if everyone's going to keep interrupting me then I'm not going
to say anything," he replied, casually dipping his egg roll in some
soy sauce.

"Okay, everyone be quiet so Toby can tell me," Donna said and she
scooped up some more kung-pao chicken. Everyone but Toby nodded their
agreement. "The floor is yours Toby."

Toby didn't look like he was at all sure he liked this arrangement and
took a sip of his beer. "All I said was that in addition to Carson,
Sam could also be Thom the decorator guy on 'Queer Thing' and that
since he's got Kyan and the hair thing already down, he could in fact,
if he knew how to dance or cook, stage a one-man show. Maybe even, you
know, take it on the road and eventually to Broadway. Of course he'd
have to also be, you know, gay, but there are still some details I
hadn't quite got worked out."

Donna blinked at Toby and didn't know if she should laugh or throw the
last egg roll at him.  She joined CJ and Josh as they looked at Sam to
gauge his reaction. Sam glanced at Donna so Toby couldn't see his face
and he winked at her.  Then he coughed lightly. Two words were buried
in the cough. "Girly man."

Josh picked it up and coughed along with him, "Girly man."

CJ and Donna picked it up too, "Girly man."

"Why are you guys mocking ME?  It's not my fault he acts like
two-thirds of the cast of that show all rolled into one."

Sam smirked as they all stopped coughing.  "Toby we call you that
because while I might know something about clothes and hair and
decorating, I've never seen that show and if you stood me up against
your office wall and were going to throw rubber balls at my head
unless I could named them I'd would have big red marks where you'd hit
me because I have no idea what their names are. But apparently you
do." Sam turned back to the table, "Does anyone else?"

"Not me," Josh said.

"Ditto," CJ said. They all turned to Donna.

"Sorry, can't help you. I watch it all the time. My alabaster skin
would be safe from Toby's rubber balls of death. I happen to think
Carson is funny, Thom is really cute, I'd love to have Kyan work on my
hair and I'd pay Jai to give me dance lessons. Ted's okay, but I don't
like what he wants to cook so much." She paused. "But Toby, the
apartment is amazing so from here on out, knock it off with Sam and
the Queer Eye jokes." She finished the last of her chicken.

It was a ripple effect at that point. In one fell swoop she'd redeemed
Sam AND Toby. Sam smiled first, then Toby, then Josh and finally CJ.
Laughter quickly followed as Donna simply grinned at the great friends
gathered around her table. It was a good day.

Later, after the last of her things had been unloaded from Sam's
rental car and they'd shared a small cake that CJ had brought, each of
them had left, one by one so as to not be conspicuous, with her
profuse thanks for the apartment and the party.

All but Josh, that is.

The two of them were sitting on the couch watching TV. Her head was
resting in his lap, his hand was resting lightly on her shoulder.
There was nothing the least bit romantic about it.  It was nothing
more than a quiet moment in the intimate friendship they'd always had.

But in a way, Donna had been a bit worried about them being alone
together tonight. He was going to want to sleep on the couch like he
had for the last few nights in the White House but she wanted him to
go home. Well, scratch that. She didn't WANT that as she always felt
safer when he was there but she NEEDED him to go home. Just as she'd
decided as she was leaving her room in the Residence, she was going to
re-enter the world again and she needed to do it standing on her own.
It wouldn't look right for Sydney to lean too heavily on her boss,
especially after some of the play acting they'd planned out to throw
the press and anyone else who didn't know the truth off the scent. The
first night in her new sparkling, amazing apartment was the perfect
time to do that.

Now was as good a time as any to broach this subject. "Josh?" she
said, sitting up.

"What?" he asked, just a bit concerned.  She had her, 'I've got
something to talk about voice' on.

"Um, were you planning on staying here tonight?"

"Yeah. I thought that might be best," he replied.

"Josh. It wasn't your fault that I had that nightmare," she said, gently.

He paused. Damn she could read him well, "I know. I just wanted to be
close in case you needed something." Well, it wasn't a lie. He wanted
that too.

"Josh. I know the way your mind works. I'm tuned to you, remember?
You think that because you went home I had my nightmare. But that's
not true. I had it because something bad happened to me and I had to
remember or try to remember it during the interview. Nothing more.
You've been so amazing through everything but I need to do this. I
need to be able to get through the night on my own. And you need to
sleep somewhere that won't destroy your back and trust me when I say
that the couch in the Residence is much more comfortable to sleep on
than mine. Plus I need to start living as here as Sydney.  How's it
going to look if my new boss is sleeping on my couch?  Especially when
said boss is so distraught over the loss of his longtime assistant, he
and I are likely to have knock-down drag out arguments in the bullpen
because he can't remember my name is Sydney?"

She was right on all counts and he knew it. But that still didn't make
it any easier to let go of her. The last few days of having her need
him and yet having her get stronger every day, had only made her love
her more. And each day he couldn't tell her was a small knife in his
heart. "Yeah. I know. I guess I just..."

"You want to look out for me Josh. That means more to me than I'll
ever be able to say." She took his hand in hers, "YOU mean more to me
than I'll ever be able to say." She paused. "But I need to do this and
you need to let me."

He was quiet for a moment, "Okay, then I guess I better go because
it's getting late."

"You're not mad at me for asking you to go are you? I mean you've been
so wonderful through everything and I'll never forget that." The last
thing she wanted to do was offend him or make him angry.

"No, God no, Donna." He pulled her gently into his arms and kissed her
on the forehead when he wanted to kiss her on the mouth to show her he
was anything but mad. "Of course, I'm not mad. You're right. I
just...you're my best friend and you know..."

She hugged him back. "I know, Josh. I know," she said. "Thank you,
Josh, for everything.  The apartment is beautiful and the bedroom
looks fabulous. I'm still not sure how you got them to rent it to me
for what I can afford to pay but I appreciate all of it."

They pulled back from each other a bit but their arms were still
loosely wrapped around each other. It warmed him that she seemed so
happy. "Well, Sam helped pick the furniture out and CJ helped me with
the apartment but I knew you'd like it."

"I do.  I love everything. I keep waiting for the clock to strike
midnight and everything disappears."

"Well, Cinderella, I can say with relative certainty that is NOT going
to happen," he told her with a smile. "Okay. I'm gonna go," he said,
letting her slide reluctantly out of his arms. "Promise you'll call
me, anytime, if you need anything this week. If I can't deliver it in
person I'll have Sam do it," he said as he picked up his bag.

She smiled.  "I promise," she said as she followed him to the door.

He pulled the door open and turned back to her. "Don't forget to set
the alarm and lock the door when I leave."

"I won't forget," she told him.

"Good night," he called as he started down the hall.

"Nite," she called after him. After he disappeared down the hall and
she couldn't see him, she closed and locked the door and set the
alarm.  Leaning against the door, she surveyed her new apartment. She
still wanted to pinch herself. It seemed like such an amazing thing
she was sure she must be dreaming.

After taking her first shower in the new bathroom, Donna walked into
the bedroom. Since her bed was new, her couch was lumpy, she was
tired, and she hadn't had a nightmare in three days, she decided to
give her new bed the benefit of the doubt. Sliding between the fresh
sheets, she laid there and smiled. Yes, it had been a very good day.
She was asleep almost as soon as she closed her eyes.

And for the first time, she dreamt about the barn.

She was outside in the mid-day sunlight under a clear blue sky. It was
summer and she was dressed for warm weather, in white denim shorts, a
blue t-shirt, white sneakers and white ankle socks. But for some
reason she didn't feel the warmth of the sun. It was as if she was
standing in an invisible air-conditioned box on a hot summer
afternoon. Trying to get away from the box to feel the warmth, she
began walking.

She saw vast fields of corn fanning out as the far as the eye could
see, growing strong and tall in the sunshine. She could hear the
crunch of the gravel under feet as she scuffed the toe of her shoe
into the ground. She could see the small cloud of dust her motion had
kicked up. Oh, it got her shoe dirty. Mama wouldn't like that. She'd
have to be sure to clean it before she went home.  Mama liked things
clean and perfect. She wished with everything she had that she could
be perfect like Mama wanted. Maybe then Mama wouldn't be so angry and
yell so much. "Donnatella," she would say. "Why do you always have to
make trouble? Why couldn't you be quiet and plain? Just because you're
pretty you think you're special. Well you're not and the sooner you
realize that the better off you'll be." Sometimes she wanted to cover
her ears and run away and keep running until she stopped hearing Mama.
But for now it was okay. Mama was far away.

Walking around the bend in the road she realized her mistake. Her feet
stopped moving. She didn't want to come this way. The barn was this
way. She didn't like going to the barn, especially so late in the day.
Bad things happened in the barn. She looked up and there, as if it had
risen up out of the ground itself, was the barn.  The grey weathered
walls stood out against the late afternoon sun. The door swung slowly
open, like a great black maw ready to snatch her inside and take her
back into the ground.  Into hell.

She started to put one foot behind her to turn and run but the ground
shifted under her and began to pull her toward the barn like a great
dirt and gravel conveyor belt. She tried to run in the other direction
but the faster she moved, the faster the grounded pulled her toward
the barn. She could feel the extreme cold now as it rushed over her,
like icy breath coming from inside the barn. Looking over her
shoulder, the barn looked almost like a face, with the large main door
as the mouth and the two smaller hay loft doors above it as eyes. It
smiled at her and she screamed. Long black wisps of nothingness
emerged from the eyes and the mouth and reached out for her. In a
flash they were on her, binding her wrists and ankles with their
stinging tentacles. Flinging her inside the barn, the door slammed
shut, removing all the light and any possible chance of escape. Then
she heard the sounds. The sounds that haunted her and made her pray
she would die. That even hell would be better than the sounds and the
monster they would call. Skittering. Groaning. Slithering. Growling.
Scratching. Hissing. Creeping. Whimpering. Screaming.

Screams she didn't even realize were hers.

Donna snapped awake, her head and her heart pounding, her breathing
rapid, her stomach rolling. Tumbling out of bed, she stumbled to the
bathroom where her body violently disposed of the wonderful dinner and
cake she'd had earlier. Snatching some toilet paper from the nearby
roll, she wiped her face off and flushed the toilet. Lying back on the
bathroom floor she looked miserably up at the ceiling. She wanted to
cry. Part of her was crying in great gulping sobs. But the real tears
refused to come.

What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she stop feeling this way? She
just wanted things to go back to the way they were. Was that so much
to ask?

When her body had begun to settle and her head had gone from pounding
to merely aching, she got up off the floor, took some Advil for her
head, some antacid for her stomach and walked tiredly into the
bedroom. She stared at the beautiful bed Josh had bought her. Her
heart twisted painfully to know that something so wonderful wouldn't
be getting used anytime soon.  With a sigh, she pulled the comforter
off the bed and dragged it out into the living room, where she settled
herself on the couch and tried to go back to sleep.

**********

Sunlight filtered in through the eyelet curtains, gently waking Donna.
It was fairly early yet but at least she'd gotten a couple hours of
sleep after her nightmare. If she had to keep sleeping on the couch
though she was going to have to get a better one as this one really
wasn't very comfortable for sleeping. She picked up the remote and
flipped on the TV. It was Monday and the morning news was on, she so
began watching it.

A young, serious looking, Tom Brokaw wannabe, named 'David Davis,' was
anchoring the news that morning. "David Davis? God, where do these
people get these names?" she grumbled.

"Repeating our top news story. The body of a young woman was found in
her apartment this morning in the Adams Morgan neighborhood of DC.
She'd apparently been sexually assaulted and strangled sometime over
the weekend. The police are not releasing the identity of the woman
until her next of kin can be notified. The only details the DC police
are releasing about the woman at this time is that she was in her
early 30's and blonde. When asked about a possible link between this
murder and the murder of Senior White House Assistant, Donnatella
Moss, last week in the same neighborhood, the DC police said they had
no evidence to support a link between the two cases. We will keep you
apprised of any new details later in our broadcast."

A chill ran through Donna. Of course there was a link.  There had to
be. Although murder and sexual assault weren't uncommon in DC, it was
still just a little too coincidental. Mike had told her that her
attacker might be a new serial killer. Apparently he'd been right.
That thought had her up off the couch and running into the bathroom.
There was nothing in her stomach so the vomiting was largely
unproductive, highly unpleasant and somewhat painful after last nights
episode. But at least there was no headache this time. She would take
any small victory she could get. As she was rinsing her mouth out, her
cell phone started ringing.  Popping a couple of Tums into her mouth,
she was seriously thinking of buying stock in the company, she dug the
phone out of her purse and saw Josh was calling her.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hey, it's me.  Did you turn on the TV yet?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Oh, well, don't watch the news, until I have a chance to come over
and talk to you."

"Yeah, the ship has sailed on that one."

There was a rather large pause, "So you saw it?"

"Yes, I did."

"I didn't know, I swear. CJ just told me. She just found out too," he told her.

"I know. It's not your fault. We knew this might happen.  Isn't that
the whole reason Sydney exists?" she asked him.

"Yeah, I guess it is." He paused. "You okay?"

"It was a bit of shock to hear them talk about it but, yeah, I'm
okay," she hoped she sounded convincing and not like someone who'd
thrown up twice in the last 12 hours.

Josh wasn't at all sure he should believe her. "Would you like some
company for lunch?" he asked her.

"That's probably not a good idea. You probably shouldn't be seen over here."

She sounded tired and a little defeated. "I can be covert," he tried a
little bit of levity.

"Covertness is not one of your best traits, Joshua. Unless you count
when you're trying to hide something from the Republicans. Then you're
the king of covertness," she replied, trying to convince him she was
okay. Then all she had to do was convince herself. "I'm okay," she
told him again. "Besides, you've probably got a tons of work on your
desk to do."

"Well, with Angela still here it's not a ton but after I helped out
with the Senate thing a couple of days ago, it has increased," he told
her.  "But I'd rather have lunch with you."

"I know. I just...I just need a little time. It's not you.  It's me.
And I don't mean that in a 'I say it's me but it really is you kind of
way.' It really is me.  I've got to try and get a handle on Sydney and
what being her is going to be like.  I thought I might put my outfit
on and try and run some errands today. I've got all my new ID and my
checkbook and credit cards, so I might as well use them. I thought I'd
go the grocery store and get some stamps at the post office.  I can't
be a hermit forever, no matter how beautiful my new cave is."

"Okay. But can I call or text message you later, you know, 2 or...7
times?" he asked with a grin.

She smiled a bit. "I'd like that."

"Well, good luck with the errands," he told her.

"Oh, Josh. Speaking of errands. I'm going to need some transportation.
What happened to my car?"

"Officially, on paper, your car was donated to charity. In reality
it's in storage in Alexandria."

"Okay. Well, I guess I can take a cab," she said.

"If you look in the top desk drawer, I think you'll find a little cash
you can use to get around."

"Josh, you didn't have to do that," she said, touched by the gesture.

"Well, everyone contributed, even Leo and the President."

"That's so nice of every body.  Could you thank them for me?" she asked him.

"Sure, I will."

"Okay, well, I'm going to go.  I'll talk to you later."

"All right. Be careful," he told her.  He had to suppress his urge to
bolt out of the building, find a disguise and go with her.

"I will.  Bye," she said, hanging up the phone. She looked up at the
TV. The news was on a commercial break. One commercial, well it was
more like a public service announcement came on. She watched it
intently. When it was done, she got up off the couch, made the bed,
took a shower, wrapped herself in Sydney, dug out the money Josh had
collected for her and left the apartment. She had a new errand on her
list.

**********

Walking through the long rows of cages she looked for the signs to
point her to the cattery. Maybe that was her problem, she'd thought
when she'd seen the public service announcement for the Washington DC,
Department of Health, Environmental Health Administration Pet Adoption
Agency, she lived alone. Having another living thing in the house
might help keep the nightmares at bay a bit.

Taking a wrong turn she wound up in the middle of the dog section. You
couldn't help but look at them. There were so many of them. All
different sized and shapes.  She'd always wanted a dog but her mother
hated dog hair and dirt and smell so she'd put a quick end to that
idea. Now with only an apartment and a very demanding job, a cat was
her only real choice. Seeing another sign for the cattery, she made a
right turn and kept walking. She looked down and realized her shoe was
untied. Bending over she retied it.

Afterward, she wasn't sure why but she felt the urge to look to her
left. Doing so, she came face to face with the second most beautiful
brown eyes she'd ever seen.  Josh's eyes had won the first place,
lifetime achievement award in that contest a long time ago. This set
of eyes stared back at her from the face of a beautiful male chocolate
lab who was sitting in the cage she was standing in front of. Whereas
many of the other dogs she's passed had all jumped excitedly against
the cage doors as she'd passed. The lab just sat and watched her
intently, the only part of him moving was his tail. If he could talk,
she'd swear he would be saying, "Where have you been? I've been
waiting for you to come and pick me up." Leaning over she looked at
the small ID card posted on his cage.  His name was "Harley" and
according to the card he was just shy of being two-years-old. He was
also housebroken and neutered.

But she couldn't have a dog. What would she do with him during the 18
hour work days she often had? And what about when she had to travel
with Josh and the President? She knew her complex allowed a pet but
wouldn't her apartment be too small for such a big dog? He was right
about 100 pounds according to his card. At least he was full grown and
wouldn't get any bigger. A hundred reasons flipped through her head as
to why she shouldn't even be considering what she was considering.
Harley only sat there and kept staring at her silently, his tail
continuing to wag steadily.

'It's the oddest sensation,' she thought. The moment was not unlike
when she walked into the campaign office in New Hampshire and inserted
herself into Josh's life, even though she was the least qualified
person there. But just as she'd know then, she knew now that this was
the right thing to do. She'd made it work then and she'd make it work
now. Taking down his tag number she went to fill out and adoption
application.  Once she'd shown all her ID they told her it would take
about three days to process her application. They would call her on
Thursday and let her know the outcome. If they accepted her
application she could come and pick him up Thursday afternoon.

As she walked out she went by his cage. He was sitting just as she'd
left him. "I'll be back to get you on Thursday, Harley." As she said
it, Harley seemed to relax a bit and he came forward toward the cage
door. Donna came closer and reached her hand out.  He sniffed it
through the bars, licked it gently. Donna rubbed his nose gently. Then
he laid down to patiently wait for Thursday. "I'll be back," she
repeated to him.  "I promise."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 17 - MATURE



"No, Sydney. That color would look terrible on you," Sam told her.

It was Wednesday afternoon, their second day of going through thrift
shops and second-hand stores in Baltimore and they were almost done.
Sam had been a huge help and a really great shopping partner.  He was
patient and didn't whine about how soon they were leaving and he loved
to give his opinion on what she was looking at or trying on. If they
ever made a "Straight Eye for the Shopping Girl" version of "Queer Eye
for the Straight Guy" Sam would be a shoe-in. Yesterday, using the
money that Josh had collected and left in her top desk drawer, they'd
concentrated on work clothes and had managed to fill out her wardrobe
with a number of suits, dress pants, and blouses. Today they'd spent
the morning concentrating on casual clothes, like jeans, t-shirts, a
couple of casual dresses and some of the more accessory things like a
jacket. Sam had also suggested she have at least one formal dress in
case she needed to attend a function of some kind. Which is why they
were scouring their current location, "The Second Time Around," a
second hand formal dress shop. Because of her padded body suit, there
were very specific guidelines she had to have for a dress.  Basically,
it couldn't show much, if any, skin. So far their search had been
largely fruitless.

"Are you sure?" she said, looking longingly at the burgundy velvet
shirt-waist dress.

"Yes. I'm positive," he said. He leaned in and spoke quietly to her.
"Don't take this wrong either but it's too small for you."

Donna looked at him and then back to the dress. She'd been looking at
it for herself and not for Sydney. Besides the size, Sydney's coloring
didn't really go with the burgundy. It would have been perfect for
Donna though. "Right," she said, a little disheartened as she put it
back on the rack.

She flipped through a couple more. "Sam, I just wanted to thank you
for helping me out. I know there's other stuff you could be doing,
especially with you wanting to move your practice out here."

Sam stood next to her. "There's no place I'd rather be right now. I'm
just glad I could help."

She continued looking through the dresses, speaking almost as an
afterthought. "Oh, you've been a huge help." She paused. "I just wish
you, and everyone else, didn't have to put yourself out for me."

He looked at her a minute, something beginning to tingle in the back
of his head, "We're not putting ourselves out. It's just what friends
do for each other."

Pulling out a simple, high-neck long black dress she looked it over,
"Oh, I know, Sam, you're totally right. And I'm so incredibly
thankful. I just hate that you guys have to clean up after me."

The tingle got a little more intense. "What do you mean by that? You
make it sound like this is all your fault. Like you had something to
do with it."

Donna walked over to a large mirror and held up the dress. It would
work just fine. Simple but elegant with enough material to cover what
needed to be covered. "Well, of course, it's my fault," she said,
matter-of-factly. She turned a bit to see how the dress would look
from the side." What do you think of this one, Sam?"

"Um, it's fine.  Basic black is always good."

"Just what I was thinking. I'm going to go and try it on." Without
another word, she turned and headed for the dressing room.

Sam watched her go, a frown creasing his forehead. For some reason, he
wasn't entirely sure that Donna, Sydney, whoever, had been fully
conscious of what she'd just said.

**********

She'd ended up taking the black dress and they were now back in Sam's
rental car, headed back for DC.  "Can we go by a pet store on the way
home?" she asked him.  She'd told him about Harley the day before but
had asked him not to tell Josh about her getting a dog because she
wanted to surprise him.

'She'll surprise him all right,' Sam had thought at the time.

He'd promised not to tell Josh, but he'd peppered her with the same
questions that had gone through her head that day at the animal
adoption center. She'd told him that she didn't have all the answers
but she was going to work it out.  He'd just smiled at her, knowing
that was exactly what she would do. That was a Donna trait if he'd
ever heard one.

"Sure. I think there's a large one in Bethesda we can stop at," he
told her. A silence fell between them for a moment, "Donna?"

"Hmm?" she said, looking out the window.

"What did you mean a little while ago when you said that what happened
to you was your fault?"

She continued to look out the window at the scenery as he drove them
back to DC. "Well, Sam, I would think that would be pretty obvious."

"Okay, explain it to me like I haven't had my Wheaties today."

"Nothing to explain. What happened is my fault," she said, her voice
calm. She really wished they didn't have to have this discussion but
Sam seemed awfully intent on talking about it.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's true. Mike told me they found evidence that the guy came
in through the window I always left cracked open during the day."

He glanced at her and then back at the road.  "And that's why you
think it's your fault?  Because you left a window cracked open during
the hottest month of the year?"

"Sure. If I'd kept it locked then he wouldn't have gotten in."

He still couldn't believe what she was saying, "No, he would have just
found another way in. Donna, it's clear that your attack was not like
some random purse snatching. Closing your window would not have made a
difference."  In response, she was silent.  "Donna?"

'Just agree with him and he'll drop it,' she thought. "Fine, Sam, you're right."

"Gosh Donna, I can't imagine why I don't think you're being sincere,"
he told her.

She turned to look at him for the first time since they'd started this
conversation. "Look, Sam, I appreciate what you're saying but even if
it wasn't the window it would still be my fault. Just like it was my
fault that other woman got killed.  I should have been more careful.
Something I did caught his attention and set him off," she turned back
toward the window. "He's just another in the long line of gomers that
I seem to attract. I should just paint the word 'victim' on my front
door. Why are we stopping?" she asked as he slowly and carefully
pulled the car over to the shoulder and stopped.

Sam turned to her. "You just said so many things I want to comment on
I don't know where to start." He paused and tried to gather his words.
"First of all, did you just compare being sexually assaulted and
almost murdered to a...a...bad date?"

"That sounds about right," she replied simply. She really wanted this
conversation to be over.

He honestly didn't know what to say to that, so he let it go for the
moment. He was definitely going to have a long talk with Josh tonight.
"And what did you mean when you said that it was your fault the other
woman got killed?"

"I didn't say that." She thought that, but she hadn't said it.

"Yes, you did," he argued.

"No, I don't believe I did," she said, still sounding perfectly calm.
Inside she was anything but. "Look, Sam can we just drop this please?"

"No, I don't believe we can," he said, almost mimicking her early
words.  "God, Donna are you so in love with Josh that you're
channeling his ability to feel guilty about everything too?" The words
were out of his mouth before he could stop them.  He wished he had a
knife handy to cut out his tongue. "I'm sorry, Donna I didn't mean
that."

"I don't love, Josh," she said quietly, looking back out the window.
"Not the way you mean, anyway. I did once but that's a non-issue now.
He's my best friend and that's all he can ever be."

He knew he should leave it alone but he just couldn't. "Why?"

"Because I'm never going to be normal again, Sam.  My LIFE is never
going to be normal. Josh deserves someone who's strong and not
emotionally crippled." She looked at him. "Don't you get it? The
attack took everything. Not just sex, but my memory and...." She
laughed mirthlessly. "Even my identity," she said, indicating her
Sydney outfit.

The laugh she'd made had cut right through his heart. "Donna..."

She continued, "And there are huge blocks of things I can't seem to
feel anymore, Sam. Things I don't WANT to feel and never plan to feel
again."

He knew they were WAY outside of anything resembling an area he had
any expertise in, but he couldn't just let it drop. "Donna, it may
feel like that right now, but it will get better. It's only been a
week and a half. Give yourself and what you feel for Josh some time."

She looked back out the window and was quiet for a while. "It doesn't
matter anyway. What happened was my fault and nothing is going to
change that. I should have done something I didn't or I shouldn't have
done something I did. End of story."

"Donna?  Donna, look at me." He waited until she turned back to him.
"You need to listen to me now. Really listen. Nothing that happened
was your fault. NOTHING. A serial rapist and murderer targeted you,
assaulted you, and tried to kill you. You're lucky to be alive."

"Am I?" she said, quietly.

"Donna..."

"I'd like to go home now," she said, tonelessly, turning back to the
window. "I'm getting tired. I'll go to the pet store tomorrow morning.
 I'm sure there's one in Georgetown."

Sam looked at her for a moment, or more precisely, the back of her
head. Obviously she'd just closed the discussion. Putting the car back
into drive, he carefully pulled back into traffic.

'Yeah,' he thought. 'I definitely need to have a long talk with Josh.'

**********

After a long, silent trip home, Sam pulled the car up in front of
Donna's building. As Donna hadn't lost the ability to feel guilty, by
the time they got there she felt largely terrible about her
semi-argument with Sam.  He'd been so great, the last thing she wanted
to do was alienate him. "Sam," Donna began. "I'm sorry about before. I
know you're just trying to be supportive and I appreciate it. Really I
do. Just like I appreciate all the help you've been giving me since
you got back into town. Next to Josh, you're one of my best friends
and I'm just....things are kind of weird for me right now. Please
don't be angry."

He looked at her. Even though she had covered everything with make-up
he knew that she was still battered and bruised and that most of her
injuries went beyond the physical. They couldn't be seen with the eye
or on an X-ray or in an MRI. Her heart and her spirit had been damaged
much more than her body. And they would take a lot longer to heal. "I
was never angry, Donna.  I just care about you and I'm worried about
you. I wasn't trying to upset you."

"I know, Sam. I just don't like to talk about what we were talking
about and I get a little carried away." She paused and with a smile,
stuck out her hand, "So, whaddya say, friends again?"

He took her hand and shook it with a tight, sincere grip, "Friends always."

**********

After Sam had helped her bring in all her purchases and then left, she
stripped off Sydney, took a shower and started separating all her new
clothes. The ones, like the suits, that had to go to the dry cleaners
and the ones, like the jeans, that could be cleaned in her new washer
and dryer. She smiled. Her washer and dryer. Well, it was the
apartment's washer and dryer, but it was close enough. Except for when
she'd lived with her parents, she'd never lived somewhere where she'd
had her own. She was just putting her second load of laundry in the
washing machine when her cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Donna. It's Abbey."

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Bartlet. What can I do for you?"

"Not a thing but to tell me how you're doing. It's Wednesday and I
haven't checked in with you since you left the White House," she said
as she sat in her office.

"I'm doing fine, ma'am."

"Okay, now that you've given me the standard, polite answer, how are
you really feeling?"

"I really am doing all right, ma'am," Donna answered.

Abbey sighed softly, she could see that Donna was going to be the kind
of patient that you needed to give specific questions to. The open
ended ones were just going to get standard pat answers. "How's your
hip?"

"Fine, I've been changing the bandage every day. It's pretty well scabbed up."

"Good," Abbey replied. "Headaches?"

"Only one, Advil took care of it," Donna answered.

"Nightmares?"

Donna paused. "One," she had no plans to elaborate. She refused to
think about it much less describe it. At least sleeping on the couch
seemed to keep them at bay. After buying all her new clothes, she had
just enough money left to get a new couch.  She planned to go and get
one right before she went to the pet store in the morning.

"Is that also when you had your headache?"

"Yes."

"Nausea? Vomiting?"

"Yes, to both."

Abbey frowned at the monosyllabic answers, "Also just the one time?"
There was a huge pause and Abbey's frown deepened.  "Donna?"

"Twice."

"When?" The single word answers were starting to annoy Abbey on one
level and greatly concern her on another.

"Once after the nightmare. Once the next morning."

"What happened the next morning?" Abbey asked her.

"I saw that another woman had been murdered," she answered in a rush.

"Oh, I see," Abbey replied quietly. Jed had told her about that and
the fact that Mike Casper and the DC police, contrary to what they
were saying publicly, believed that the second murder was related to
Donna's attack. "Have you been taking all your medication?" Abbey
asked, trying to move on.

"Yeah, just like clockwork. It's a good thing you put those dots on
the bottles or I'd never keep them straight," Donna said, trying to
keep up her end of the conversation.

"I'm glad it helped," she paused for a moment. It was on the tip of
her tongue to ask when Donna was going to start seeing a therapist,
but she felt like she'd already given Donna the 3rd degree so decided
to save it for another time. "So how's your new apartment?"

Now here was a subject Donna didn't mind talking about. "It's
terrific. Josh and CJ really picked a nice one. Actually 'nice'
doesn't even begin to cover it. I wish you could see it.  Sam moved
all my things over here from my old apartment. He even unpacked for
me." She paused for a moment. "Oh, Mrs. Bartlet, I haven't had a
chance to send out thank you cards yet, but I wanted to thank you and
the President for the money and the coffee table and the end tables.
They were perfect."

Abbey was glad to finally hear some life in her voice. "I'm so glad
you like them. How did your shopping with Sam go?"

"Terrific," Donna said with a smile. "He's my new favorite shopping
partner next to CJ. We got everything from jeans, to suits, to a
formal gown. It's a good thing I have a new, decent sized closet
because between my clothes and Sydney's I've got enough clothes for
four people."

"Why am I not surprised that Sam Seaborn is good at shopping?" Abbey
said with a smile.

"He has great taste," Donna told her.

"Has anything else been happening this week?"

"OH! I'm getting a new roommate," Donna said with a smile.

Abbey frowned. She figured the last thing that Donna would want was a
roommate. Plus she thought that Sam told her that Donna's new
apartment was only a one bedroom. "Oh, tell me about her?"

Donna grinned at the sound of Abbey's trepidation, but kept her voice
neutral. "Oh, it's not a 'her.' It's a 'him' and he's got brown hair
and big brown eyes."

There was a long pause from the other end of the phone, "You mean Josh?"

"No. Not Josh."

Abbey was completely confused and wondering if she should be
concerned, but she sensed that something was up, "Who's the mystery
man, Donna?"

She decided it probably wasn't a good idea to tease the First Lady too
much, "His name is Harley and he's a chocolate lab, I should be able
to pick him up from Animal Control tomorrow," she said, letting her
excitement into her voice.

"Really?  You're getting a dog?  That's great." Abbey said. Actually
it wasn't a bad idea at all. Other than the obvious protection aspect
of having a dog the size of a lab, pets were often a great tool in
treating emotional trauma.  They were sources of unconditional love.
It would probably be just the thing Donna needed. "Does your apartment
complex allow pets?"

"Yes. The only thing I'm worried about is what to do with him while
I'm at work. With the hours that Josh has me keep usually, it really
wouldn't be fair to keep Harley locked up in my apartment while I'm
gone, plus he'll need to go out and do his business at some point
during the day too. I guess I'll have to hire a dog walker or
something. It's just too bad though."

"What is?" Abbey asked her.

"Now that I'm so close to the White House, I was planning on walking
to work and I'd love to be able to take him with me. In addition to
being good exercise for him, it would be nice to have him with me if I
had to walk home after dark," Donna told her. "What I really need is
some kind of 24 hour 'doggy daycare.'"

Abbey chuckled. "Yeah, too bad they don't have something...." she
trailed off, the seed of an idea forming in her head.

"Mrs. Bartlet?" Donna prompted.

Abbey grinned.  "Donna, I think I may have a solution for you. And if
I say so myself it is brilliant."

"What?" Donna asked, getting a bit excited.  She had yet to hear of
Abbey Bartlet ever having a bad idea.

"Well, it occurs to me that the Secret Service uses a small group of
dogs to patrol the White House and because of it they maintain a small
kennel right here on the grounds. I bet they'd have a spare kennel pen
that you could use. And since the Secret Service works even longer
hours that you guys do, time wouldn't be a factor.  I bet they'd even
take care of Harley if you had to go out of town because of work."

A bit of excitement welled up in Donna, "Oh, Mrs. Bartlet, that would
be perfect. Do you really think they really would do it?"

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I have a little pull around here.
I'll speak to Ron myself, first thing tomorrow. If he's balks we can
just make Jed co-adopt Harley. That way he'd be the First Dog and Ron
will have to make sure he's looked after," Abbey finished with a bit
of a smirk in her voice.

A huge lump lodged itself in Donna's throat. She managed to swallow
around it. "Thank you, Mrs. Bartlet. You've been..." her voice caught
as the lump returned.  Donna took a breath and swallowed again.
"You've been so kind to me I don't know how I'll ever repay you and
the President."

Abbey smiled into the phone, "We don't want you to repay us, Donna.
Just be happy. That's all we ask."

**********

Josh paid the fare and stood back as the cab drove away. After having
a rather enlightening conversation with Sam in his office and to throw
off anyone that might be watching, he'd driven home, changed into a
fairly non-descript pair of jeans, t-shirt and a plain baseball cap
and called a cab to take him over to Donna's. Actually she lived so
close to him now, he could have probably just walked but he wanted to
get over there as soon as possible. It was already late. He'd gotten
caught in a meeting with the President and Leo concerning a crisis in
China that lasted until almost 10 and then he'd found Sam in his
office. By the time they'd finished talking and Josh had gone home to
change, it was after 11. He could have waited until the next day but
if Sam was right, he and Donna had a lot talk about. It sounded like
she was only a few steps from falling in the hole he was so familiar
with.

Jogging up the front steps of her building, he rang the buzzer for her
apartment and waited, but no response was forthcoming so he tried
again.  And again, he got no response.  Getting a bit worried, he used
the code that Sam had given him to get into the foyer. Climbing the
stairs to the second floor, he resisted the urge to race to her door,
managing instead to walk with measured steps. 'How could she possibly
blame herself for what happened?' he wondered. 'There was nothing she
could have done.' Stopping in front of her door, he took a breath and
knocked.

Donna laid on her side on the couch, sound asleep. It seemed to be
about the only comfortable position for her on the old, lumpy piece of
furniture. A lamp on the end table burned low and the TV was on but
the sound was muted. The day had really worn her out and she'd been so
deeply asleep she hadn't heard the downstairs buzzer and even the
sound of someone knocking on her front door really hadn't pulled her
out of the heavy sleep she was immersed in.  In the end, it had been
Josh's voice softly calling her, well, calling Sydney, that had made
her stir.

"Josh, go away. I'm still sleeping," she mumbled into her pillow. "I
don't have the McCafferty file." Then she heard him call Sydney's name
again and her eyes slid open. "Josh?" she said in sleepy confusion.
Looking around, her eyes fell on the VCR clock. It was almost
midnight. 'What could he want so late?' she wondered. 'I'm not even
working for him at the moment and he knows he's not supposed to be
seen here.' His knocking became a little more urgent and she hauled
herself up off the couch to answer the door before he woke the
neighbors.

"I'm coming," she called. That seemed to stop his insistent knocking.
Checking through to peep hole to make sure it was him, she disarmed
the alarm system and unlocked the door. Since she didn't have "Sydney"
on, she stood behind the door as she opened it. "Come in," she said.

Josh walked in and she closed and locked the door behind him but
didn't reset the alarm. There would have been a time when her heart
would have taken a dizzying leap in her chest at seeing him show up at
her apartment in the middle of the night wearing what he was wearing.
The t-shirt set off his toned biceps and the well-worn jeans encased
his legs and the best butt in politics like a lover's caress. The
baseball cap, not so much. Besides hiding his hair, a hat also hid his
face a bit which would have been unacceptable. But now all she managed
was a combination of curiosity, irritation and pleasant surprise that
he was standing in her apartment at midnight.

"Josh, what are you doing here? I thought you weren't supposed to come
over? At least not until you and 'Sydney' work together for at least a
little while," she said, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

"Yeah," he said, pulling off his cap and hanging it on the coat rack
by the door. "I needed to talk to you about some things." He walked
over to the couch to sit down but stopped when he saw the condition it
was in. It was made up like someone was sleeping there...all the time.
 It even had sheets and a pillow.

"Donna, why are you sleeping on the couch and not your new bed?" he asked her.

Too late she realized that in her sleepy condition, she'd left
evidence of her all the time couch sleeping laying out for anyone to
see. "I'm not sleeping on the couch, I just hadn't gone to bed yet,"
she tried to lie. "I was watching TV and fell asleep." Well, it wasn't
a complete lie.  The TV had been on when she fell asleep. She hadn't
exactly been watching it but that still qualified in her mind.

He looked at her, his suspicion clearly written on his face, "What
about the sheets? Looks like someone made up the couch like a bed."

She considered saying that one of her friends was crashing on her
couch, but it was such a big, fat lie, she just couldn't get the words
out of her mouth. Besides, he knew all her friends and he would have
called her on it. So she just decided to not say anything.

He stood there and watched her with a mix of love, suspicion and
concern. She looked so pleasantly rumpled and cute in her grey
sweatpants and a Harvard t-shirt he was sure was one of his, that he
wanted to hug her. But it wasn't a hugging moment. It was a 'keep
Donna from falling in the hole' moment.

"Donna?" he said gently.  "What's going on?"

She smiled innocently and had no idea that it looked completely false.
"Nothing. I don't know what you mean."

Josh walked over and sat down in her new living room chair. Maybe it
was time to try another avenue. "I had a very interesting conversation
with Sam tonight." He let that drop to see what happened.

Wow, she hadn't seen that coming. Sam had ratted her out to Josh. She
couldn't believe it. For a moment she wondered just exactly what Sam
had told him. But she'd worked around enough lawyers to know when to
keep her mouth shut. "Oh?"

"Yeah. He tells me he in turn had a very interesting conversation with
you today while you were shopping," he said, watching her as she came
around and sat down in the middle of the couch.

"Well, Sam and I talked about a lot of things today," she told him.

"Did they include the fact that you blame yourself for the attack?"
He watched as she twisted a corner of the sheet in her hand but
remained silent. "Donna?" he began gently. "Do you blame yourself for
what happened?"

"Josh, I really don't want to have this discussion with you," she said.

"I'm sure you don't, but we're going to have it anyway."

"Why?" she said, standing up to pace a bit. She unconsciously put the
couch between them. "What difference does it make? It changes
nothing."

He got up and went over to her. "It makes a HUGE difference, Donna,
because it's NOT your fault. Not by any stretch of the imagination is
it remotely your fault. Open window or no open window there was
nothing you could have done."

"You don't know that," she said. "Maybe I should have fought harder
against him...."

"You were unconscious, Donna!"

"Was I?"

He hadn't been expecting that answer, "Weren't you?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. Just because I can't remember doesn't mean I
wasn't awake. I should have done something. Before, during, after.
Something."

"Donna," he said, slowly and carefully putting his hands on her
shoulders and looking directly into her eyes. "You did do something."

She looked skeptical. "What?"

"You lived. He meant to kill you but you beat him.  Don't you see,
Donna, you survived."

She wasn't ready to hear the words and they fell on deaf ears. "Well,
bully for me. That took a lot of effort on my part. Fat lot of good
that did, Kelly Gibbs."

"Kelly Gibbs?" he asked, baffled.

"His second victim." They had released her name a couple of hours earlier.

Sam had told him how he thought Donna blamed herself for the second
victim but Josh and Sam had been unable to figure why she could
possibly think that. "So now you're responsible for her death too?
Just how did you come to that conclusion?"

Her words were very soft and if he hadn't been standing so close to
her, he wouldn't have heard them. "Because I can't remember. Maybe if
I'd remembered I could have given the police and the FBI some help so
they would have caught him already."

Slowly, he put his arms around her and pulled her closer into him, He
felt her cheek resting on his shoulder and her weight had shifted to
lean her against him slightly but she hadn't raised her arms to hug
him in return.  "Oh, Donna," he said with a soft sigh. His heart was
breaking for her. "It's not your fault you can't remember. You didn't
ask to have a head injury or to forget. It just happened that way. No
one blames you," he paused. "If Kelly were alive today, I'm sure she'd
tell you the same thing."

Once again, her voice was soft, "Why should she die when I get to live, Josh?"

He tightened his hold on her.  "I don't know Donna.  I just don't
know. Maybe it's as simple as that old saying about it not being your
time to go. Maybe you still have things to do with your life." 'Like
spend it with me,' he thought. He released her a bit, "I know I for
one am happy you lived. I need you. Very much and I'm sorry if I don't
tell you that often enough. After all, who else is going to keep me in
line?"

"CJ," Donna answered

"Okay, yes she would do that but she wouldn't do it with nearly the
same style and the, you know, useless trivia that you've got going for
you."  They were quiet for a moment.  He knew that he was not a
therapist and he knew that he wasn't going to be able to solve her
problems all by himself. He supposed he just came over there that
night, to do what he could. He hoped that with a good therapist, time
and patience they would solve them together. "So now are you going to
tell me why you're sleeping on the couch?" He paused.  "Don't you like
the bed?  Isn't it comfortable?"

She looked at him for a moment, "Oh, no. I love the bed. It's the most
beautiful bed I've ever had and it's very comfortable."

"So you have tried sleeping in it?" She nodded. "Then why the couch? I
though you said it was lumpy and uncomfortable."

"It is," she paused, then spoke quietly again. "But ever since my
nightmare after the interview, I haven't been able to sleep in a bed."

He frowned. That didn't sound good. "Why?  What happens?"

"Either I can't fall asleep at all, I have a feeling of suffocating or
I have terrible nightmares," she replied.

"What about those nights that I slept on the couch in your room in the
Residence?  You didn't have them then," he pointed out.

"That's because I didn't sleep." She hoped he wasn't going to be mad.

"What do you mean?"

"I waited until you were asleep on the couch and then I would lie in
bed and read. Then I would sleep during the morning until it was time
for you to come up at lunch and then in the afternoon until dinner."
She paused again, "The last time I peacefully slept in a bed was when
you stayed with me after my nutty when I saw my hip," she finished
quietly, unable to meet his eyes.

"Donna?" he spoke softly to her.  "Donna, look at me." After a moment
she did. "You're my best friend and if you don't tell me the truth, I
can't help you or be a friend back to you." Gently, he raised his hand
to her battered cheek. "You're always so strong, Donnatella. But
sometimes it takes the most strength to ask for help. To know when you
need help and be willing an able to ask for it." He brushed his thumb
over her cheek with a feather touch.  "Let me help you."

"How?" she wanted to know.

"Well, how about I stay here tonight and see if we can get you
sleeping in a bed again?"

"Oh, Josh. I don't know. What if someone found out? It wouldn't look
right. I don't want you or the President to get in trouble.," she
said. Outwardly that's how she felt.  Inwardly, she wanted Josh to
stay more than ever. She always felt safe when he was there.

"It will be okay. I promise. I'll leave really early and then go home
and change before I have to go to work.   Do you remember how many
times after Rosslyn you stayed with me to help me get back to sleep
after a nightmare?"

"More than I can count," she replied.

"Exactly. Well, just call this the collection of an old debt." He
paused, "Now go and set the security alarm and take everything that
you need into the bedroom while I call Sam."

"Okay," she replied.

A little while later Josh hung up with Sam and walked into the
bedroom. 'What the hell am I doing?' he thought. He was planning to
sleep with the woman he was in love with and all they were going to do
was sleep. He found Donna standing by the window, deep in thought.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked her softly.

"Just what you said earlier about not dying because I still have
something or some things to accomplish or finish. I was just wondering
what it was."

"Donna?"

"Hmmm?" she replied absently, still thinking.

"It's like 1 a.m.  Can we go to sleep now?" he asked, in a tone not
unlike a slightly cranky child.

Donna nodded and slid between the sheets.  Josh pulled the covers up
to her chin and then toed off his shoes and stretched out next to her
on top of the covers. He held his arms open and she snuggled into
them. They laid there for a few moments.  "Donna?"

"Yes?" she said, her voice already taking on the sound of 'Sleepy Donna?'

"I think it might be a good idea if you talked about the assault with
someone who knows what they're talking about and how to help you
best," he told her.

Donna nodded slightly against his chest. "I heard from Dr. Jan Todd
today. She's the psychiatrist the rape crisis center at the hospital
put in charge of my case. I made an appointment to talk to her on
Wednesday of next week."

"Good," he told her, feeling a little better now that she was going to
get someone to help her. "Now go to sleep, I'll be right here."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 18 - MATURE



"You know, CJ, this would be a lot easier if you'd give us a straight
answer," Danny told her as he, Katie and Chris walked through the
northwest lobby with her Thursday morning. CJ avoided glancing at the
new Secret Service agent now stationed at the door going into the
bullpen. Danny and the two other reporters weren't stupid and this had
to look good.

CJ stopped in the hall outside Josh's office door, which was closed
and turned to face them. Donna's 'old' desk, which was now minus all
her personal effects was off to their left. CJ slid her hand in her
pocket and pressed the button on her phone to send Josh the message.
"But Danny, if I give the three of you a straight answer, not only am
I not doing my job, but I'm depriving you the pleasure of doing
yours," she said with a grin.

Katie spoke up, "But, CJ, all we want to know is where the President
stands on the long term ramifications of the Chinese....."

"I SWEAR TO GOD, JOSH, IF YOU GO THOUGH ONE MORE ASSISTANT I'M GOING
TO ROAST YOU ON A SPIT AND FEED YOU TO THE REPUBLICANS ON THE SOUTH
LAWN!" Leo's voice boomed out from inside Josh's office.

"BUT LEO!"

The three reporters looked markedly at CJ. "Sorry guys," she said,
apologetically. "Why don't we go in my office and we can talk
about..."

"What else do you want me to do, Josh?!?  I'm sorry about Donna, but
she's gone and you have to accept it and move on and stop pissing off
every assistant that personnel sends you! They told me that the next
time you chase off an assistant, they're going to give you Margaret!
MARGARET! And do you know why? Because she's the only one who said
she'd be willing to put up with you!"

"I don't WANT Margaret!" They heard Josh reply.

Leo went on as if Josh hadn't spoken, "JOSH, DO YOU HAVE ANY CONCEPT
OF JUST HOW UNHAPPY I'M GOING TO BE IF THEY FORCE ME TO GIVE UP MY
ASSISTANT OF 15 YEARS?" he roared.

"But Leo, the assistants they sent me were incompetent!" Josh yelled back.

"NO, Josh! They were not incompetent, they just weren't Donna!" There
was a pause. "So when your next assistant shows up on Monday you will
be nice, you will be pleasant, and you will see to it that she
absolutely does not QUIT! Do I make myself clear?"

There was a huge silence from inside the office.

Danny looked at CJ. "CJ, how's Josh doing?"

CJ looked at all three of them, "Off the record?" The three reporters
nodded. "He's....adjusting to life without Donna. Before she joined
the campaign he had a history of going through assistants like tissue
paper.  Donna was the first one he'd had for any length of time," she
told them sincerely. Although she was pretty sure that his new
assistant, the one that was showing up on Monday and was named
"Sydney" was going to be around a while, too.

Just then, Josh's door opened and Leo stepped out. He closed the door
behind him but not before the three reporters had a clear view of Josh
sitting at his desk with his head in his hands.

"Oh, hey, CJ," Leo said. "Hey Danny, ladies."

"Hey, Leo," Danny replied. "How's it going?"

"Good, Danny. Um, CJ, can I see you in my office for a minute?"

"Sure, Leo. Let me just answer a question I got from the Three
Musketeers here and I'll be right there."

"Okay. Oh, can you grab Toby and bring him with you?"

"Sure."

"Thanks," Leo told her. Then he turned and headed for his office.

CJ turned back to the waiting reporters. Her work there was done.
"Come on, guys, let's go back to the Press Room and I'll give you an
answer to your question."

**********

Five minutes later, CJ, now minus her entourage of reporters but with
Toby in tow, walked into Leo's office and closed the door.  Josh was
leaning against one of the side walls.

"Well, did they buy it?" Leo asked as soon as CJ had the door shut.

CJ's expression flipped from grim to a grin, "You better believe they
bought it. The two of you gave an Oscar winning performance." She
turned to Josh.  "And you, with the 'your head in your hands' thing.
That was a very nice touch."

Josh grinned slightly and walked over to Leo's desk. He picked up a
small decorative globe and turned to them. "I'd like to thank the
Academy," he deadpanned.

CJ snorted in response.  "Josh, why do we put up with you? You have an
ego the size of Utah."

"Oh, I'll have to work on that," Josh replied.  "I must be slipping.
Donna's always telling me that it's the size of Texas."

"How is Donna?" Toby asked quietly.

Josh set the globe carefully back down on the desk. As the "I'm your
first call" woman, he'd considered telling CJ that he'd innocently,
platonically spent the night at Donna's and since she'd slept
peacefully until early this morning when he'd left, probably would be
doing so a couple more nights but he just wasn't ready to share it.
He'd already sworn Sam to secrecy. He didn't want people to know that
Donna was struggling. He knew that she liked people to think she was
doing fine. So while he helped her, he'd protect her at the same time.

"Good.  I talked to her last night." Well, it was true. He was just
forgetting to mention that is was in person. "She loves the apartment
and has been getting used to running errands and shopping as
'Sydney.'" He grinned.  "She said Sam is almost a better shopping
partner than you CJ."

"WHAT?!" she asked, horrified. "Did she say why?"

"Something about the fact that if she sees something she wants she
doesn't have to worry about fighting you for it if you like it too."

"Oh, well, she does have a point there. Maybe I should take Spanky
with me the next time I go shopping," CJ replied.

"The next time I see Sam I think I'll just suggest he give up being a
lawyer altogether," Toby remarked. "It sounds like it would be much
more lucrative for him to be, you know, a personal shopper."

"You will do no such thing, Toby," CJ said. "You promised Donna you
would leave Sam alone about the shopping thing. Am I going to have to
squeal on you?"

"Not unless you want me to start calling you names like stool pigeon.
Stoolie. Rat fink. Snitch. I can go on," Toby told her.

"I really wish you wouldn't," CJ replied.

"All I'm saying is that apparently Sam's talents were wasted when he
was working at the White House and writing speeches for the President
of the United States. Obviously what he should have been doing was
helping little old ladies shop for a dress to wear to their
granddaughter's wedding."

CJ just looked at him pointedly. "Wow, Toby. Do you realize that you
said that whole thing without taking a breath?"

"Oh, would you two knock it off," Leo replied. He turned back to Josh.
"So are you and Donna or should I say 'Sydney,' ready for your little
sparring matches next week?"

"She and I are going to work on it this weekend," he said. "On the
phone," he amended when he got a odd look from CJ.

"That reminds me, Josh, I wanted to talk to her about some of the
timing for that.  You have any idea what her schedule for today is?"

"Well, I think anytime this morning would be fine. She had some
mysterious errand to do this afternoon that she wouldn't tell me
about," Josh said with a little frown. As hard as he'd tried to get it
out of her, she wouldn't tell him. She'd been smiling when she refused
to tell him so he figured it was probably not something to worry
about. He was going over there after work and take her dinner since
actual cooking was still kind of a challenge for her with her arm
still in a sling. She promised him he'd find out where she'd been all
afternoon when they had dinner.  'What could she be up to?' he
wondered.

**********

Donna, dressed as "Sydney," signed the bottom of the form and handed
over a check for the fee. The young woman, her name tag said Emily,
took the form and the check and looked them both over. With a nod, she
signed and stamped the form.  She looked up at Donna and smiled.
"Congratulations," she said. "I'll have him brought out." Picking up
the phone on her desk, she spoke to someone on the other end, gave
them Harley's tag number and then hung up. "Oh, while you're waiting,
let me give you a couple things. She laid a packet on the counter for
Donna. "This is all of Harley's health and vaccination records and his
general history." Then she reached under the desk and pulled out a
very small envelope. "And this is his new dog license.  Be sure he
wears it at all times."

Donna slid the packet into her purse. She would need all the
information when she took Harley to the vet tomorrow for a check-up.
Then she pulled the new leash that she'd bought earlier that morning
out of her purse. It was bright red, made from heavy duty nylon, and
matched the new collar that she had attached to it. The collar already
had a shiny brass tag hanging from it with Harley's name on it.
Holding the collar in the hand of her injured arm, she carefully
worked the license onto the same ring with his name tag. The two
clinked together slightly and made a light, tinkling sound. Just then
a door opened onto the waiting room and a young man walked out leading
Harley.

The large brown dog was walking calmly enough but when he saw Donna he
broke free and charged toward her. Now, most people would have been
scared if they saw a large dog running flat out toward them.  But
Donna wasn't a bit scared. Kneeling down, she smiled at him. As he
approached her, Harley tried to slow down but the floor was linoleum
to make it easy to clean and for a dog whose paws and nails are really
made for running on the ground, it was like running on ice. It was
just not conducive to stopping; instead, he merely skidded the rest of
the way and plowed into a waiting Donna.

Luckily, Donna had gotten the hang of putting on her 'Sydney' wig. It
wasn't just something she simply pinned on. She used a special
adhesive on the skin along her hairline to hold it in place. It
apparently did the job because her wig stayed in place as the rest of
her hit the floor. The padded suit helped cushion her fall since it
also had padding in the seat. Then suddenly she was being smothered in
dog kisses which made her laugh hard enough that she didn't mind that
he was smearing her carefully applied make-up, knocking her fake
glasses askew or causing a twinge in her injured arm because he was
pressing against it.

"Okay, Harley. Good boy.  That's enough," she managed between licks.
Harley instantly stopped and sat his butt down. Panting heavily after
his exertion, he waited for her to sit up.

"I think he likes you," the young handler said with a grin.

"Yeah, I guess he does," she said with a chuckle, straightening her
glasses. She was a little surprised but pleased to see how well he
minded. "Good boy, Harley," she said, patting him on the head and
scratching him behind the ears. "Now, stay," she told him. Someone
she'd managed to keep a hold of his new collar and leash in all the
excitement. Sliding off the rope lead the handler had Harley on, she
slid his new collar into place and buckled it. "There now, handsome,
how's that?" He gave her another good lick in response.

"You're a kisser aren't you?" she said to him with another chuckle.
Holding onto his leash she let the handler help her up. "Thanks," she
said. After making sure she hadn't dropped anything or left anything
behind, she looked down at Harley. "You ready to go, boy?" In
response, he stood up and looked up at her expectantly, his tail
wagging furiously. She smiled down at him, "Good, let's go home."

**********

After finding a cab who would take her and Harley, for an extra $20,
they'd gotten back to the apartment and gone for a short walk so
Harley could do his business and get to know the neighborhood. Then
they'd gone back to the apartment where she'd shed Sydney, which
Harley didn't even seem to notice, and she let Harley explore his new
home. Her apartment was now clearly the domain of someone with a pet.
Besides the pet bed that was laying on the living room floor at the
end of the couch, there was also one in the bedroom. Harley's leash
now hung beside her purse on the front coat rack. She'd already
cleared the lower part of her pantry and refilled it with the dog
food, treats and chew toys she'd gotten him.

"I don't suppose I could talk you into lying one of the nice new comfy
beds I got you rather than the couch, could I?" Donna said, as the two
of them sat on the couch in her apartment later on that afternoon.

Harley's response to her question was fairly succinct. He rolled over
on his back and wiggled like he either had an itch or was in the
equivalent of doggy heaven, complete with play growling, wagging tail
and big pink tongue hanging sideways out of his mouth.

Donna smiled at him, "Yeah, that's what I thought," she reached over
and rubbed his exposed belly.  When she hit a certain spot his back
right foot began to bob up and down. "Ooo, did I hit the spot, huh,
did I?" she said, rubbing it a bit more. Now he was DEFINITELY in
doggy heaven. "Okay, that's enough," she said with a smile and she
patted his stomach a final time. Harley, sensing play time was over,
rolled back onto his stomach and watched her. "Now, let's see what we
can find here in your history.  Why would anyone want to give you up?"
She asked him out loud. He scooted a little closer to her and laid his
head on her knee.

Pulling the paperwork out she began to read. Harley had been adopted
as a puppy by a man in his mid-30's. He'd apparently been a good owner
but had died suddenly in a terrible car accident. "Oh, I'm sorry boy,"
she said, gently stroking his soft snout. "You lost your owner didn't
you? That's so sad." She went back to reading, her hand gently
stroking his head as she did. Beside, Harley, the only family the man
had were his elderly parents, who were unable to care for a dog,
especially one Harley's size.  Harley had been at the shelter about
two months before Donna spotted him. It was noted on the form that the
only reason the shelter thought he might not get adopted was because
of his size and the fact that he was almost 2 years old.  Most people
wanted a small dog or at the very least a puppy. Both of which
excluded him.

Donna looked down at him.  "Well, who wants a puppy?" she asked him,
patting him on the head.  "Sure they're cute but you've got to house
train them and they chew up anything that isn't nailed down and you
never know how big they're going to get." She read on.

Next there was a small section on the kinds of tricks he'd apparently
been taught. According to the parents of Harley's previous owner and
the vet, in addition to being leash trained and house broken, he could
sit, stay, shake hands, lay down, roll over, fetch, and catch a
Frisbee. "Wow, boy. You're really talented. No wonder you behaved so
well at the shelter. We'll have to try out some of those tricks when I
take you out for a walk later." She went back to reading the rest of
the form. The final comments were mostly about his health, which had
been excellent, and his vaccinations, which were up-to-date.

She looked at her watch, Josh would be there soon. "Well, Harley, what
do you think? Should you be waiting for him when he comes in or should
I have you hide and surprise him?" Harley only cocked his head and
looked at her. "Okay, I'm thinking I'll have you sitting there when I
open the door. Oh, but one thing, Harley." She leaned down to him. "I
don't think Josh is going to appreciate being run over like I did so
you might just want to sit still and let him come to you. He's not
really much for animals so you might need to do some wooing to win him
over."

Harley just sat there and looked at her intently like he was really
understanding what she was saying. Then he leaned over and licked her.
Donna laughed and wiped her nose, "Okay, you might want to hold off on
kissing him too."

**********

Josh jogged up the front walk carrying bags of Chinese food. Setting
one of the bags down he rang the bell. He could have used the code but
he wanted to let Donna control things as much as possible. He turned
his face up toward the camera and waved so she could see it was him.
He  heard the lock click open and entering the foyer, he made his way
up to her apartment.

It had been a long day, made longer by the prep and the execution of
the little 'scene' with Leo for the benefit of the press and making
"Sydney's" appearance more plausible. There was also the fact that the
days had been long ever since Donna had been gone. Although he'd seen
her almost everyday since the attack it still wasn't the same. He
missed working with her and seeing her all the time. Working with
Sydney was going to be interesting. And not necessarily in a good way.
 It would be Donna, of course, but for a while at least it was going
to be different. Beside the little 'scenes' they were going to be
having, which both intrigued and worried him, he wouldn't be able to
talk to her, banter with her, touch her the way they used to. The
rhythm between them would be very different, at least at work when
others were around.

Shoving that idea away for now, he arrived at her door and knocked. He
could have sworn he heard Donna's voice and it sounded like she was
shushing someone. Before he had time to think anymore about that the
door opened.  As he expected, he didn't see her when the door opened.
Since she usually didn't wear 'Sydney' when she was home, she'd stand
behind the door so no one in the hall could see who she really was.
However, this time there was something standing, or more accurately,
sitting, in the usually empty open doorway. A rather large brown dog.
Josh didn't know what to say. "Hi," he finally said. The dog only
continued to look at him. "How ya doing?" he paused.  "What am I
doing?" he mumbled. "I'm asking a dog how he's doing.  What's he going
to do, answer me?"

"Well, are you going to stand out in the hall all night or are you
coming in?" her heard Donna's voice ask from behind the door.

"Is Cujo going to let me?" he said, eyeing the large dog skeptically.

"Oh, he won't hurt you," she replied.

The dog continued to look at him intently, "Does HE know that?"

"Josh.  Would you just come in. I'm sure whatever you brought for
dinner is getting cold."

'Okay, but if I have to fend him off with your carton of sweet and
sour chicken it's not my fault." Josh took a step forward and the dog
stayed quietly where he was. Getting a little more bold, Josh stepped
into the apartment and around him. The dog's eyes followed him but his
body stayed rooted to the floor.

Donna closed the door. "Well, what do you think?" she asked with a grin.

Josh looked from her to the dog and then back to her, "I think it's a dog."

"Way to state the obvious, Josh.  What do you think about said dog?
Whose name is Harley by the way."

"As in the motorcycle?" Josh replied, looking back down at him.

"I would assume."

"When did you get a dog?" he asked her.

"Today.  But I applied to adopt him on Monday. I would have told you
sooner but I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, you succeeded," he replied.

Her face fell a bit, "You mean you don't like him?"

"Now I didn't say that at all.  I just said you succeeded in surprising me."

"So you do like him?" she said hopefully. "He does tricks and everything."

"I've known him for like 2 minutes, Donna. I don't really know from
dogs. I never had one as a kid and as I got older I never had the time
or the space for one. At this point I'm just glad you didn't get a
cat."

"Actually I had planned on getting a cat but I saw him first."

Josh looked down at Harley, who'd remained in the same place during
their entire exchange but, like someone watching a tennis match, his
head had been going back and forth between them as each of them spoke.
"Well, if he kept you from getting a cat, then he's already made
himself useful and that's a point in his favor.  Good boy," he said
patting Harley on the head.

"Josh," she said, slightly annoyed at his reasoning.

"Okay, look. Just let me get used to him a little. Ask me again
tomorrow, I'll have a much better idea of what he's like then. Is that
fair?" Actually, now that he'd had a moment to process the idea, it
wasn't such a bad one for her to have a dog.  The protection aspect of
a dog as big as Harley was a big benefit and the companionship aspect
was another.  Someone with Donna's sensitive heart would love to have
an animal to take care of and it would help her in that respect as
well.

Donna thought a moment and then nodded.  "So what did you bring me for dinner?"

He held up the bags with a grin, "Wong's Imperial Palace."

"Oh, with their butterfly shrimp and pot stickers?" she said, taking a
bag from him and heading into the kitchen.

"Yep, and shrimp with snow peas, sweet and sour chicken, beef and
broccoli, and, as always, your favorite, kung-pao chicken," he said
following right behind her. Harley stood up and trotted after them.
He could smell the food and wanted to be ready if any were to
'accidentally' fall on the floor.

"God, Josh, you brought enough to feed an army," she commented as she
started taking things out of the bags.

"So you'll have leftovers. You've got tomorrow and the weekend before
you have to go back to work, this way you can just reheat what we
don't eat tonight," he told her.

"Well that's a good point," she said, getting down two plates. "You
don't get any young man, I just fed you your dinner," she told Harley
who was sitting in the small archway connecting the kitchen and the
dining room area watching them expectantly.

"So," Josh said, as he filled up his plate. "Can I ask you a couple of
things about your new...roommate?"

"Sure," she said, as she filled her own plate.

He sat down at the table, "What are you going to do with him when
you're at work? I mean as much as I hate cats at least they can have a
litter box and don't need to be walked."

She smiled at him, "Ah, yes I've worked that out. The Sisterhood, and
by that I mean me and Mrs. Bartlet, worked out a plan."

"Now I'm scared," Josh said. He looked down at Harley who was sitting
next to him, his doggy face begging for some little tasty morsel. Josh
did his best to ignore the look but it was damn hard. "Harley, you
should know right now that whenever the Sisterhood gets together, it's
a good idea for the Brotherhood to be somewhere else. Oh, and since
you've got the right equipment, that means you," Josh told him, taking
a bite of his shrimp and snow peas.

"Don't listen to him Harley. The Sisterhood always likes to have a
good looking male around. Even the canine kind." She patted him on the
head.  "And, Josh, don't be teaching my dog all of your bad habits."

"What bad habits? I only speak the truth," he replied.

"Well, that's open to debate."

"Yes, Donna and I am a master in debate," he said with a grin as he
put another forkful of kung-pao chicken in his mouth. "So what's this
great plan you and the First Lady have cooked up?" he asked.

"Don't talk with you mouth full, you'll set a bad example for Harley," she said.

"Yeah, because dogs have to worry about table manners or talking with
their mouth full.  You'll be lucky if he just doesn't try to lick
himself and eat at the same time."

"Josh! That wasn't very nice."

"Again, I was just speaking the truth," he replied.

"You have an interesting view of the truth."

"So I've been told. Now tell me your plan. " He said with a grin,
loving the fact that they seemed to be bantering again. If he had
Harley to thank for it then that was another point in the dog's favor.

"Oh, I forgot to get out the soy sauce," she said, getting up from the
table. "Well, see I was talking to Mrs. Bartlet and I told her how
much I'd like to be able to walk to work and take Harley with me so I
didn't have to leave him at home all day or get a dog walker or
anything but I didn't know what to do with him once I got to the White
House," she said as she dug through the refrigerator for the sauce.

"Yeah, for some reason, I don't think Leo would be really
understanding about Harley sitting by your desk in the bull pen." He
looked down at the dog, who was still begging for food. He dropped his
voice to a whisper, "Oh, all right. Here," he tossed Harley a piece of
beef from his beef and broccoli.  "Now scram, that's all your getting
from me and don't tell her or you'll never get another bite from me."
Harley quickly inhaled the piece of meat and with his tail wagging,
went into the kitchen to see what the other human was doing.

Donna shoved some things aside in her search for the soy sauce. "So
anyway, she pointed out that the Secret Services uses dogs to patrol
the grounds and they have a kennel they maintain on site. So she and I
talked to Ron and he agreed to let me keep Harley there while I'm
working." She paused. "Ah HA! Here it is," she said, pulling out the
prized soy sauce.

"That's actually a great idea. That way it won't matter how late you
have to work and Harley will still get some exercise and be looked
after," he said.

"Yeah, that's pretty much what I was thinking," she said. "What with
you making poor Sydney work 18 hour days and all." Looking down she
saw Harley sitting by her feet giving her a pitiful look like he
hadn't been fed for a couple of months. She had resolved NOT to give
him people food but it was his first day with her and she was finding
it hard to resist that face.

"Well, just because she's new doesn't mean that she can skip out
anytime she wants."

"Yeah, because I've heard she's known for 'skipping' out a lot. Like
skipping out to get your dry cleaning and your lunch." Knowing that
the kung-pao chicken was too spicy, the shrimp and snow peas too rich
and the sweet and sour chicken too...well, sweet, she settled on the
beef and broccoli. She knew Josh's back was to her but she glanced up
to make sure he wasn't looking anyway. Then she threw Harley a piece
of broccoli and then a piece of meat. He chowed down on them happily.

"Hey, where's the soy sauce?" Josh said suddenly.

Donna put her fingers to her lips to keep Harley quiet. "Right here,"
she said, bringing it back to the table and sitting down in her chair.

Harley, now happy that he'd managed to weasel an offering out of both
of the humans, went over and laid down on the pet bed in the living
room.  Josh's eyes followed him as he went and a little grin formed on
his face. "You know Donna, you having a dog might not be such a bad
thing after all."

**********

"Sydney?" Donna looked up from her "new" desk to see CJ and Danny
Concannon standing next to her.  It was late Tuesday morning, her
second full day of work and Josh's door was closed so he had some
privacy for a call with Matt Skinner. Donna stood up and reminded
herself to use the "Sydney" voice that she and Josh and then she and
CJ had practiced over the weekend. Coupled with the small plastic
plate she was wearing in the roof of her mouth, it was a slightly
higher and slower version of Donna's regular voice.  Josh called it
her "think before speaking voice."  "Yes, Ms. Cregg, how can I help
you?" she asked.

"Sydney, I keep telling you, I'm not your boss, you don't have to call
me, Ms. Cregg. Heck, even MY assistant doesn't call me Ms. Cregg. I'm
just CJ."

Sydney adjusted her glasses slightly, as if it were a long standing
habit. "I'm sorry, Ms......CJ.  I keep forgetting."

"Well, you're new so I'll forgive you this time but if it happens
again, I'm going to make you lead the next press briefing in a rousing
chorus of "Kum Ba Ya."

Sydney looked properly terrified, "Really, Ms....CJ?"

CJ grinned, happy to see how well Donna was playing her part. "No,
Sydney," she said with a laugh. "I was just kidding. You've really got
to learn to take a joke if you're going to survive around here," CJ
said. "But I do want you to call me CJ and if Josh gets to be too much
and you need to vent, my door is always open."

"Thank you, CJ," Sydney said with a little smile.

"Now, the reason I came by was to introduce you to Danny Concannon,
he's with the Washington Post and is one of many reporters that is an
everyday fixture here in the White House. Since you're Josh's
assistant now he may be coming by to see you with questions for Josh.
He also asked if he could meet you." She turned to Danny.  "Danny
Concannon, this is Sydney Collins, Josh's newest and we hope, last,
assistant."

The red headed reporter put out his hand, "It's nice to meet you Sydney."

"Hello, Mr. Concannon."

"Oh, just Danny,"  he told her with a disarming smile.

"Oh, well it's nice to meet you, Danny. But I'm confused, why would
you want to meet me?" she asked him.

"Like CJ said, I may have questions for Josh and traditionally I've
gone through his assistant to arrange a time to meet with him."

"Oh, I see," Sydney replied.

"Plus I heard the two of you got off to kind of a rocky start yesterday."

Sydney looked at CJ to make sure she could answer. "Go ahead, Sydney,
you can answer him. This is off the record."

She nodded, "Well, first days can often be difficult. Mr. Lyman and I
just have some work to do on building our boss-assistant working
dynamic. But I'm confident that we will be able to work together
efficiently in the end."

Danny looked at her a little skeptically. "You don't know Josh very
well yet, do you? He has his own definite way of doing things. It's
pretty hard to change him. His last permanent assistant was the only
one I've ever heard of that got him to do things he didn't want to
do."

"Would that be Donna?" Sydney asked him.

"Oh, so you've heard of her?" Danny said.

Sydney rolled her eyes, "That's all he talks about. How everything I
do doesn't measure up to the way she did things. It seems like she's
going to be a pretty tough act to follow."

"Well, you have to realize, Sydney, that Donna was with him for almost
7 years," Danny told her. "They were even in the first Bartlet
campaign together. I believe she was very special to him. Losing her,
especially the way he did, was pretty tough on him. Give him some time
to get used to you.  I'm sure he'll come around."

"Thank you, Danny.  I appreciate the encour......"

"DONNA!" Josh's voice bellowed from behind the closed door.

Sydney's body tightened up as if someone had raked their nails down a
blackboard. She leaned forward to CJ and Danny a bit conspiratorially,
"You know it's not the bellowing I mind so much it's the fact that he
can't get my name right." She picked up her pad and a pen.

"DON....SYDNEY!"

"Well, he almost got it that time. Duty calls," she said with a shrug.
"It was nice meeting you Danny."

"You too. Hang in there," Danny replied.

Sydney smiled and headed for Josh's office. The second she opened the
door, Josh's voice blasted out, "WHAT THE HELL TOOK YOU SO LONG,
SYDNEY? If you're going to keep this job you better get in here faster
when I call you!" After that, the door slid closed and there was
silence again.

CJ and Danny walked back toward the press room, "I give her a week,"
Danny said.  "She seems nice enough but with Josh the way he is right
now, the person who sticks with him is going to have to be a cross
between Mahatma Gandhi, Attila the Hun, Mother Theresa, and Cindy
Crawford. AND they'll need to be all that while taking dictation and
knowing how to type. I don't think that's her.  In fact I think I'm
going to start a pool in the press corps for how long she'll last."

CJ looked at him, "That's terrible, Danny. Here this poor girl is
stuck with probably the most hated job in the White House and you want
to take wagers on how long she'll last?" She paused and looked at the
little smirk on Danny's face.  "Okay put me in for twenty," she said,
pulling the money out of her pocket and handing to him. "BUT. I'm only
doing it to show you that I think this one's got something the others
didn't. I think this one is going to stick it out and stay until the
end of the administration."

Danny shrugged, "It's your money."

For about two seconds CJ felt guilty. After all, she knew that Sydney
was really Donna, the only one to ever stick with Josh as an assistant
for longer than a month. It was like having insider information when
you were buying stock. But then she saw the little smirk on Danny's
face become a bigger smirk and magically, the guilt disappeared. "Yes,
it is."

**********

Donna closed Josh's door and leaned up against it. Josh was standing
behind his desk, looking through a briefing memo. "You know Josh,
there's something to be said for being TOO convincing."

He grinned a little, "Am I losing myself in the part?"

"Just a smidge. By the way, did you forget to call me Sydney on
purpose or was it a slip?" she asked him.

He looked at her guiltily. "It was a slip.  I needed something and
Donna came out before I realized it."

"Well, you'll be happy to know that I was talking to Danny and CJ at
the time you were screaming your supposedly dead assistant's name."

A look of concern flashed over his face, "Do you think it made Danny
suspicious?"

"No.  I covered it. I told him that I didn't mind the bellowing as
much as I minded you getting my name wrong all the time."

He sat down in his chair. She came around and leaned against his
computer desk. "I thought you hated the bellowing," he said.

"Oh, I do. But at the time, I was less worried about what I did or did
not like and more worried about what Danny did or did not suspect."

"Ah, good point."

"So what did you need so badly you felt it necessary to bellow?" she said.

"Oh, right.  I need the research file on the Foley bill." He looked at
her a moment. He was beginning to love these brief moments in his
office where they could talk and be themselves and things were almost
like they'd been three weeks ago.

"But I thought that the bill wasn't going to make it out of
committee," she replied.

"Well, Matt Skinner seems to think it may pull through after all. Do
you have time to pull it for me?"

"Yeah," she said. "After I get you the research file, do you mind if I
take an early lunch?  I thought maybe I'd get Harley and take him on a
walk around the Mall."

"No, I don't mind at all.  How's he doing in the kennel so far?"

"Fine as far as I know.  One of the handlers said they've been letting
him out in the exercise yard with some of the other dogs and he really
likes it. He seems happy enough when I drop him off in the morning."

"That's good. I also meant to ask you how your arm's doing without the
sling? Is it giving you any trouble?"

She flexed her arm. "A little sore but nothing that some Advil hasn't
taken care of."

Josh nodded, "Donna?"

It was always such a relief to her when he said her name. As per the
plan, everyone else was calling her Sydney but when they were in his
office like this, he would call her Donna and it never failed to spark
something inside her. "Hmm?"

He looked at her a minute. "It's really good to have you back. Even if
you have to be here as Sydney."

"Thanks, Josh," she said, sincerely. A quiet moment passed between
them. "Well, if I'm going to pull the research file and go to lunch, I
better get to it. You ready?"

"Yeah, I just..." he trailed off.

"What?"

"I just want you to know how much I hate having to do this thing with
Sydney.  I know I bellowed at you even before Sydney, but this is
different.  I don't like hurling angry words at you, even in jest."

Donna walked over to him and laid her hand on his shoulder.  "I don't
especially like it either, Josh, but we both know that for right now,
it's what has to be. Once people have accepted Sydney, then we won't
have to do the yelling thing. Well, maybe you and the bellowing will
go on because I just don't see you getting rid of that habit anytime
soon, but the angry words, not so much." She paused, "But I appreciate
you telling me out loud that you don't like it either."

He laid his hand over hers where it rested on his shoulder and
squeezed gently. "Thanks." It still amazed him that she could be so
supportive and sympathetic when she herself was the one that was
hurting more. "You ready?"

Donna exhaled and then walked over to the door and nodded.

Josh nodded back and took a deep breath.  "THIS IS ALL WRONG! HOW
COULD YOU BE SO STUPID?!? THIS ALL HAS TO BE RETYPED AND DON'T BRING
IT BACK UNTIL IT'S BEEN STRAIGHTENED OUT! AND GET ME THE RESEARCH FILE
ON THE FOLEY BILL!"

Sydney ripped open the door dramatically, "I would be happy to get you
the Foley Bill file. As for the other matter, I only did it the way
you told me to Mr. Lyman! FOR THE 400TH TIME I AM NOT A MINDREADER,"
she screamed as she stood in the doorway of his office.

"Well, then you better take a class to learn how to be one or you're
not going to last long here," he shot back. "AND WHILE YOU'RE AT IT,
GET ME SOME COFFEE!"

"I'M YOUR ASSISTANT, MR. LYMAN, NOT A WAITRESS!"

"YOU ARE WHAT I SAY YOU ARE, SYDNEY!" he yelled back.

"NO, SIR! That is not true!" Sydney said, shaking with mock fury and
trying to make it appear that she was having trouble keeping her
temper in check. "I am your employee, not your slave!  IF YOU WANT
COFFEE, MR. LYMAN, THEN I SUGGEST YOU GET IT YOURSELF!" Without
waiting for a reply she slammed Josh's door and stalked over to the
file cabinet.  Yanking the file drawer open she pulled out the
research file for the Foley Bill and dramatically slammed the drawer
closed.

Ginger happened to be passing by, so Sydney handed her the file.
"Ginger, could you please give 'his majesty' this file.  I'm going to
lunch before I drive a stake through his heart." Something snapped
inside Donna when she said it and she was instantly sorry. Even in
jest, even as Sydney, it was a horrible thing to say. His heart had
been through enough after the shooting and every day he was alive was
something she never wanted to take for granted or make light of. The
walls began to close in on her a bit and her look must have even
panicked Ginger, who knew the truth about everything.

"Sydney? Are you all right?" she asked quietly.

Donna snapped back and she nodded.  "Yes, I just need some air."
Turning, she pulled her purse and Harley's leash out of her desk and
walked quickly to exit and around to where the Secret Service kept the
kennel. Needing to steady herself a minute she knelt down and fastened
Harley's leash to his collar. Then she bent down, put her arms around
him and buried her face in his neck. But, as much as she loved Harley,
all the while she was wishing it could be Josh she was holding on to.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 19 - MATURE



Donna pulled the box out and carried it to the dining room table. It
was early yet, about 5 a.m. Wednesday morning. As had become their
habit, Josh had just left for home to shower and change before going
into the office. Harley was still asleep on his large pillow at the
foot of her bed.

Her first appointment with Dr. Todd was at 9 a.m. and she was not
looking forward to it. She didn't want someone poking around in her
head, but she knew that Josh would never let her hear the end of it if
she didn't go. Donna just didn't see how it was going to change
anything. She was different now, the attack had definitely changed
her, but she was fine. There was nothing for anyone to be worried
about. She hadn't even had a nightmare in the last week. Okay, she
admitted, that was most likely because Josh had been staying with her,
but she was sure that soon she'd be able to sleep on her own. Maybe
she'd talk about getting him to sleep at his own place when he came
over that night.

Setting the box on the table next to the morning paper, she pulled off
the lid and started pulling clippings and papers out of the box and
laying them on the table. At least Josh had told her she didn't need
to come in before the appointment. So even though she should probably
be trying to catch a little extra sleep, as was often the case during
the last week, after Josh left she couldn't go back to sleep.

After emptying the box, she set it aside and opened The Washington
Post. Scanning it, she hit all the high points. The news from
Congress. The stories about the President's new policy on China. The
national news. And then she found what she was looking for.  Buried in
the metro section was a follow-up article about Kelly's murder, and by
extension, hers.

Pulling out a pair of scissors she carefully cut out the article and
set it on the small pile she'd removed from the box. Tossing the rest
of the newspaper aside, she spread the contents of the box out on the
table. Picking up each individual piece of paper one by one, she read
them. It had become kind of a compulsive ritual for her. She would
pour over the details, hoping that it would somehow jog her memory.
Some of them had been read so many times that the edges were worn
already from being handled so much. While reading about Kelly's murder
never failed to make her unbearably sad, reading about hers left her
feeling....nothing. Part of her wanted to forget, to not think of
anything to do with her attack or Kelly's but the rest of her could
not and would not let her forget.

She'd even called Mike Casper yesterday. He'd confirmed that there was
indeed a strong link between her assault and Kelly's murder. The press
had already reported the fact that Kelly had suffered an initial head
injury, a fairly vicious sexual assault and then was strangled. What
they hadn't reported because the information had been suppressed by
the FBI and the DC police, was there had been no evidence of a gun in
Kelly's attack, but there had been a burn on her hip exactly matching
Donna's and her attacker had used his bare hands to strangle her. Only
this time he'd succeeded.

Mike told her that the details had been suppressed to help with the
case. When the real murderer was caught there would be details that
hadn't been released that the authorities could use to confirm that
the suspect was really the killer. Although apparently he'd left
behind enough matching DNA at both crime scenes that, once he was
caught, his conviction would be a slam dunk.

He'd also told her one other, very interesting thing. In response to
Donna's comment about it being cold in her apartment during the
attack, Mike had spoken to the emergency personnel and crime scene
investigators who had been first on the scene. When asked, a number of
them confirmed that it had indeed been freezing in her apartment when
they'd arrived. One of the officers had told Mike that, in fact, the
AC unit had been turned as far down as it would go. The investigators
had assumed it was simply Donna's habit to turn it on full blast and
so they hadn't dusted it for fingerprints. But she had told Mike that
she never turned it up that high because it was too expensive to run.
Mike had then told her that the officers at the scene of Kelly's
murder had noted the similar frigid conditions. Someone investigating
the scene had been thinking that time and Kelly's AC unit had been
dusted for fingerprints. Prints that matched those found on items in
Donna's apartment had been found on the knobs of the unit. It appeared
as if the killer liked things on the cool side.

She ran her hands over the clippings. Her mind once again went back to
the question she'd asked Josh. Why had she lived when Kelly hadn't?
Kelly had been a bit younger than Donna, blonde, a preschool teacher,
surely a worthy profession. She was single, had parents who loved her,
something Donna wasn't sure she could say, and she had hopes, dreams,
and potential that would never be realized. What had Kelly ever done
to merit a life cut short? And what had Donna ever done to deserve a
life spared?

**********

Donna, dressed as Sydney, looked at the small piece of paper in her
hand and then back up at the refurbished historic-looking building.
The addresses matched. "Well, Harley, I guess this is the place."
Holding tightly to his leash for courage she walked up the stairs and
into the building. Standing in the foyer, she saw a small listing of
all the offices in the building. Dr. Todd's was on the first floor.
Donna and Harley walked past a set of stairs going up to an office in
the back part of the building. "Jan Todd, M.D., Ph.D.," a small gold
plaque on the door read. Donna knocked on the door. A moment later,
the door opened. It was a woman in her mid-40's. Her hair was dark and
pulled tightly into a severe bun. Dark rimmed glasses were perched on
her nose, making her look at once intelligent and a little like the
school principal.

"Ms. Moss?" she said. Donna nodded. "Please come in."

"Thank you," Donna said, stepping into the office with Harley staying
close to her side. Donna didn't see the disapproving looked that Dr.
Todd gave Harley as she closed the door. The office was spacious and
tastefully decorated, with walls that were painted a soft white. A
large and neatly organized desk sat off to one side while a large
comfortable looking couch and two matching overstuffed chairs rounded
out the furniture in the room. Various pictures and degrees hung on
the walls giving the office a personal touch while still managing to
project a professional atmosphere. A large picture window behind the
couch faced onto a small private garden.

"Won't you have a seat?" Dr. Todd told her.

Donna nodded and sat down on the couch. "Harley, lie down." He obeyed
her instantly and laid down on the floor by her feet. She'd discovered
that he always seemed to know when he could be playfully disobedient
and when he had to be instantly obedient.

Dr. Todd sat down in one of the chairs. "Ms. Moss," she began in a
tone that told Donna she probably wasn't going to like what she was
going to say. "Is there a reason you've brought your animal with you
today?"

Donna looked at Harley, who was laying quietly at her feet. She hadn't
expected the doctor to say anything about him. "Well, two reasons I
guess," she said, trying to not let things get started off badly.
"First, I like to take him with me whenever I can. See, I live in an
apartment so it's a way I can exercise him. And then second, I'm going
to work after my appointment and my employer allows me to take him
with me. "

Dr. Todd looked at her for a moment, her expression unreadable. "You
must have a very understanding employer."

She thought about Josh and Leo and the President, all of whom were her
bosses to one degree or another and all of whom had varying degrees of
understanding about things. "He can be."

"Well, in the future I would appreciate it if you would not bring him
with you to your sessions."

Donna already didn't like this woman, "Um, okay."

"You see when we meet for your sessions I need your full attention. I
can't have that if you're worried about what he's doing. He can be an
unnecessary distraction." Donna looked down at Harley, who was still
laying quietly. He looked the complete opposite of distracting. Dr.
Todd seemed to follow her thoughts. "It also concerns me that you say
you take him with you so often, including to work. You need to be sure
that your relationship with him as an owner doesn't come at the
expense of your relationship to others and your recovery."

Donna didn't even know what to say to that. She'd been so happy with
Harley in the last week and now this woman was telling her that it was
somehow wrong, somehow bad. In an act of simple self-protection, part
of her pulled into itself like a turtle in a shell.

Dr. Todd smiled benignly. "Okay, that being said, let get down to why
you're here," she said, moving to her desk. She opened a file and
skimmed it. "I read about your case in the file the hospital sent
over. I understand from your file that the government has placed you
in some kind of protection program to hide you from your assailant. Is
that correct?"

"Yes, that's correct," Donna answered. Apparently Dr. Todd hadn't
connected 'Donnatella Moss' with the woman that was officially dead.
Donna thought she probably should have clued her in but, she reasoned,
she didn't need to know all the details. She knew that Donna had been
assaulted and almost killed, that was enough for now. Plus there was
the fact that so far she didn't like Dr. Todd. Suddenly she was very
happy that she was dressed as Sydney.

"Why don't we start there.  How's that been going?"

"Well, it's all right. It's been a bit of an adjustment. They gave me
a new identity and moved me to a new apartment." She had no plans to
tell her about her physical disguise.

"I see. I also read in your file that you were very badly injured in
the attack.  How have you been feeling physically?"

"Okay.  I couldn't speak for the first week and I had to wear a sling
on my arm for a while but I'm pretty much back to normal I think."

"What about your internal injuries?" Dr. Todd asked her.

Donna felt a lot like a bug under a microscope but she merely put on
the smile she used to use when Amy Gardner would visit Josh in the
office. "Um, my internal injuries made me a bit uncomfortable for the
first week but it's pretty much gone now."

"Have you had your period since you were assaulted?"

That question totally took her by surprise. "Why on earth would you
want to know that?"

Dr. Todd seemed unfazed by Donna's disbelief. "Sometime victims find
that the first period after their assault can be a little traumatic.
It can bring back some of the memories from the attack, especially if
the original attack caused any vaginal bleeding."

Donna hadn't had her period since the attack but she was about due.
Great. So now she was going to have a nutty about her period.
Terrific, something else to look forward to. "Well, I guess I wouldn't
know about that because I haven't had my period since the thing."

"The 'thing'? Why do you call it that? Are you having a hard time
talking about it?"

Donna smiled as she realized she'd used the term that Toby and Josh
used so often. "No, I just...it's kind of a habit that friends of mine
have when they speak. It's kind of like verbal shorthand."

Dr. Todd looked dubious. "All right." She paused. "Why don't you tell
me about the attack."

"Well, I'm afraid I don't remember much about it."

Again, Dr. Todd gave her a look that was skeptical at best. "Why don't
you tell me what you do remember?"

Donna gave a mental sigh and began recounting her memories, or lack
thereof, from that night. It was basically what she'd told Mike
Casper. "And the next thing I remember was waking up in the ambulance
on the way to the hospital."

"I see," Dr. Todd said in a way that Donna suspected meant she didn't
see at all. "And you say that you don't remember anything else?"

So basically, Donna took that to mean that Dr. Todd was calling her a
liar. "No, I don't 'say' that I don't remember anything else, I really
'don't' remember anything else." She was feeling a little like she was
being cross examined.

"There's no need to get defensive, Ms. Moss."

Donna didn't know how she was being defensive. She'd never raised her
voice above its normal volume but she took a breath anyway. "I
apologize, Dr. Todd. It's been a bit of a rough couple of weeks and
I'm afraid I'm a bit on edge." Which was really not true. In her
opinion, she'd been more withdrawn than snappish or defensive. But she
hoped it would placate Dr. Todd.

"I'm sure. Rape can be very traumatic, it's only natural that you'd
want to lash out.  Repressed anger is a common after an event like
yours."

Okay, so she was still getting the bug under a microscope feeling.
'Rape can be very traumatic?' Donna thought. 'Well, duh!' Where the
hell did this woman get her degree? She suddenly felt like she was
trapped in some little infomercial made for psychology students. 'And
here, ladies and gentlemen, is a classic, textbook case of repressed
anger and what can happen to someone after they've been sexually
assaulted.' Like she was some cookie cutter textbook case. She
realized then, that Dr. Todd was still speaking.

"How have you been doing otherwise?  Any sleeping problems? Nightmares?"

Donna considered telling her the truth about the nightmares and Josh
but, barring a sudden change in the Dr. Todd's tone and methods, Donna
had pretty much decided that therapy with her was just not going to
work out. In which case it really didn't matter what she told her.
"Oh, I've had a little insomnia but nothing beyond that."

More skeptical looks from the good doctor. It occurred to her that Dr.
Todd's look was just like one her own mother had down to a science.
Which of course did nothing to make Donna like her any better.

"Have you had any anxiety?"

"No." Okay, so there was that the nutty she had when she saw her hip,
but there was NO way she was telling her about that.

"Headaches?"

"A little at first because of my head injury, but nothing else." So it
was a lie. It didn't make much of a difference now.

"Depression?"

"Not that I know of." If Donna had been talking to Mrs. Bartlet, Abbey
would have already been getting pissed off with the quick answers, but
Dr. Todd seemed unfazed.

"Any suicidal thoughts?"

"Excuse me?" Donna asked, a little dumbfounded.

"I asked you if you'd had any suicidal thoughts?"

"No, of course not." Suicide had never occurred to her. She just
wanted things to be like they were, not be erased all together.

Dr. Todd sighed and pulled off her glasses. "Donna....can I call you
Donna?" She said in such a way that told Donna she was trying to be
disarming. To Donna it came across as condescending.

Donna looked at her a moment and had the sudden urge to laugh. Because
glasses tend to hide the eyes, most people looked better when they
take off their glasses but Dr. Todd looked better with her glasses ON.
 Without them, her eyes looked small and squinty in a face already
severe and, Donna thought now, hard. Again a vision of her mother
popped into Donna's head.  "No, I think we'd better just stick to Ms.
Moss. It is more professional after all," Donna said with a sugary
sweet smile.

Well, Dr. Todd didn't like that one bit. She put her glasses back on,
a clear signal that her attempt at being disarming was over. "Ms.
Moss. If you want me to help me you're going to have to be a lot more
cooperative than you're being now."

Donna looked at her for a moment, "Just what exactly do you think I
need to have help with?"

"I'm going to be frank," she said. "I know you're not going to want to
hear this, but I think you've been lying ever since the moment you
came in here."

"Excuse me?" Oh, gee, Donna couldn't imagine why she wouldn't want to
hear that she was a liar. She might have been leaving some things out,
but she didn't deserve the treatment she was getting and she
definitely didn't like being called a liar twice in one conversation.
Harley's head popped up at the strained sound in his owners voice and
the tension in her body. But he remained still and poised in case
action was needed.

"I said I think you've been lying every since you came in here. To me
and to yourself. You're clearly repressing the details of your attack
because you are too afraid to face them."

"I've tried to remember them, I really have," Donna tried to explain.
"Part of my insomnia has been because I've laid awake at night TRYING
to remember. But the memories are just not there. My doctor seemed to
think that was because of the head injury I sustained in the attack."

"Theoretically, your doctor is right. Sometimes a head injury can
affect memory," Dr. Todd said. "But in your case I don't believe that
is the case. I think you've buried the memories so deep that you've
convinced yourself they're gone. But I believe with some intensive
therapy I can help you retrieve them and face them."

So, basically, she was a lying, suicidal, delusional freak who was
obsessed with her dog. Yeah, this visit was a REAL good idea. If this
was going to be what therapy was like, she would just skip it all
together. She was a little surprised that Dr. Todd wasn't trying to
have her committed right on the spot. "Dr. Todd, I appreciate your
candor but it's clear to me that you and I have very different views
of my situation. I think that I can save us both a lot of time and
tell you that you help is not wanted and not required. I think it
would be better if I just took my 'animal' and left." Donna stood.
"Harley, up," she told him. Instantly he got to his feet and waited
beside her.

"You're free to do as you like," Dr. Todd said, now with a tone of
utter superiority. "But I feel it's my duty as your therapist to tell
you that the longer you repress your memories of the attack, the more
problems you're going to have down the road. You need help, Donna, and
if you don't get it soon you're going to self-destruct."

Donna hated the way that her name dropped from Dr. Todd's mouth. As if
it were unclean, unhealthy and something to be pitied. It made her
feel small and stupid. But then something, something she credited to
CJ's example of knowing how to stand up to others, flashed through
her. "And you, Dr. Todd, need to start listening to your patients
rather than fitting them in your one-size-fits all, cookie cutter
definitions before you've even gotten to know them or their problems."
Donna turned and walked to door. "You also might try getting some kind
of bedside manner," she said as she laid her hand on the doorknob.
"Because frankly, right now, the one you have sucks." With that she
pulled the door open and she and Harley started through it.

"When you see I'm right and change your mind, you have my number," she
called after Donna.

Donna stopped in mid-stride and turned back around. Marching back into
the office, with Harley in tow, she pulled out the small piece of
paper that contained Dr. Todd's office address and phone number. Her
gaze met the doctor's levelly as she ripped the paper into bits the
size of confetti and tossed them on the desk. "Between having you for
a therapist and going insane, I'd rather go insane." Turning on her
heel she and Harley left the office and went outside into the warm
sunshine.

Her steps were quick and measured as if she was trying to get away
from the devil himself, or in this case, herself. Harley had to break
into a slow trot to keep up with her. She should have hailed a cab to
take both of them to the White House but she needed to calm down a bit
first. Walking a bit they finally came to a small park, almost
deserted now in the middle of the morning. Donna sat down heavily on a
bench, Harley sat beside her feet, panting a bit from their quick
pace.

"Harley, I have to tell you," she said, running her hand over his
head. "Normally, I would never encourage this, but if we ever see that
woman again, you have my permission to growl and bare your teeth at
her." Harley looked at her for a moment and then licked her hand
trying to soothe his upset owner.  "Thanks, boy. I'm glad I took you
with me, no matter what she said."

She blinked at sudden, expected tears, then willed them away. She
wasn't a crier. Crying got you nowhere and it fixed nothing. She
hadn't cried when Josh had been shot and she hadn't cried when she
found out how he'd really cut his hand at Christmas. There hadn't been
time and he'd needed her to be strong. And, even though she'd felt
like she was dying inside, she hadn't cried when she had to tell him
she'd screwed up with Cliff and the diary. If she could survive those
things, she could survive this. It was just another bump in the road
and she would get over it like she'd gotten over everything else.  On
her own.

The only problem was, what was she going to tell Josh? He was going to
expect her to have some kind of regular appointment with Dr. Todd, the
evil troll psychiatrist. How was she going to cover that? Well,
unfortunately she'd have to lie to him. But really, it would be for
both of their benefits. If she didn't, he would just get upset and
they'd just argue about it and since his therapy had been such a
positive thing for him, he just wouldn't understand why it wasn't
going to work for her. She'd be saving him all the aggravation, she
justified. Then, eventually, she could say that Dr. Todd said she
didn't need therapy any more and things could go back to the way they
were. No one would get hurt and no one would be the wiser.

Feeling a little steadier, she looked down at Harley. "Well, boy, what
do you say? Shall we go to work?"

**********

Donna had been back at her desk for a total of five minutes when her
cell phone rang with the tone that told her she was receiving a text
message. Pulling it out, she read the display. "If you've got a minute
would you come in and talk to me?" Of course it wasn't signed but she
knew who'd sent it.  Grabbing her pad and a pen, she went into his
office and closed the door. Since Sydney had been there a couple of
days and hadn't quit, they'd decided to tone down their 'shouting
matches' and now they only had one a day, usually in the late
afternoon or when CJ had someone from the Press Corps in her office.

Josh looked up from the report he was reading as she sat down in one
of his visitor's chairs. "Hey," he said. "I just wanted to know how
things went this morning. I know how tough the first appointment can
be."

She smiled at him. "Oh, it went fine. This first one was a lot of
preliminary, background stuff." 'The lies begin,' part of her
commented.

"Really?" He said, sitting back in his chair. He thought maybe it
would be difficult for her. Donna was one of the strongest people he
knew and he imagined it wouldn't be easy for her to tell her deepest,
darkest secrets to a stranger. He remembered his marathon first
session with Stanley. It had been a little like having someone flay
you open so they could show you what you didn't want to see. Of course
he'd felt better afterwards but while it was happening it hadn't been
very pleasant.

Donna felt another ember of anger get stirred up at his words.  "Yes,
Josh, really. What, do you think I'm lying?" Although she hadn't
raised her voice, she'd still snapped it out a bit more forcefully
than she'd planned to and she felt instantly sorry. Josh had been
amazing and wonderful, he was the last person she should be getting
mad at. Plus she really didn't think he meant anything by saying it.

Josh looked at her now. She looked normal. Well, as normal as Sydney
ever looked to him. He still couldn't get use to seeing Donna dressed
as Sydney. But there was something in her eyes.  Something that wasn't
able to hide behind her brown contact lenses. There was something she
wasn't telling him. But then again it wasn't like he'd told her
everything he'd talked to Stanley about during their session and in
the subsequent sessions he had with the therapist that Stanley had
sent him to. He'd let it go for now. "Of course I didn't think you
were lying. I'm just glad things went okay.  It was a rhetorical
'really,' not an 'I'm sure I must have heard you wrong' really," he
explained.

"I know, Josh, I'm sorry," she said, sincerely. "I guess I'm still a
little on edge after my appointment this morning."

"No problem." He paused. "So often are you going to see her?"

Well, here was the next big lie.  They were piling up fast. "Just once
a week.  We have a standing appointment for Wednesday mornings at 11."
It was unsettling to her to realize just how easily the lie had rolled
out of her mouth.

"Oh, that's good. But just so you know, I'm going to need you to come
in before you go from now on.  I know I let you wait to come in after
you got done but that was kind of a first-timers deal." He grinned a
bit. "Now that you've been indoctrinated, you'll need to come back to
work." He paused and got just a touch serious.  "That's not going to
be a problem, is it?"

Donna smiled in response, hoping it would convince him that all was
well.  "No, no problem at all."

"Good.  Oh, by the way, are you going to cook or should I bring
something when I come over tonight?"

Donna was silent for a moment. Maybe now was a good time to cut the
cord. As much as she'd loved falling asleep in Josh's arms, she knew
it was a pain for him to have to sneak over to her place and then
sneak back to his to change before coming to work.  Besides, if she
was well enough to not need therapy, she was well enough to not need
him as a security blanket. "Um Josh, about that...." she hesitated.

Josh frowned, for some reason he didn't like where this was probably
going. "What?"

"I mentioned to Dr. Todd that you'd been staying with me and she
thinks it would be a good idea if I tried getting to sleep on my own."

Yeah, he didn't like where it had gone at all. "Um...okay. I mean if
that's what you want."

"Well, it's not so much what I want as what Dr. Todd recommended might
be a good step for my recovery." God, she was such a liar. And to
Josh, no less. Maybe she should just cut her tongue out now.

Josh tried to appear nonchalant instead of vaguely hurt. "Ah-kay. If
your doctor thinks it's for the best I can get on board with it. I've
got some things I'm probably going to need to be here late for
anyway."

"Okay," she replied.  "Thanks for understanding, Josh."

"That's me, Mr. Understanding," he tried to give her a little grin and
almost succeeded.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 20 - MATURE



Dressed in her pajamas, her hair still damp from her second shower of
the day, the evening one she always took to remove all traces of
Sydney, Donna walked out of the bathroom. Holding a glass of water and
the small medicine bottle in her hand, she stood for a moment at the
foot of her bed. Josh was gone, just like she'd wanted. Her lies had
succeeded.

In fact, if she remembered correctly Josh and Sam were probably at the
Hawk and Dove for a last drink before Sam left for California in the
morning. Sam had already put a deposit down on a small office
storefront in Foggy Bottom where he was planning to set up his DC
practice. He figured it would take him about two months to close
things up in California and sell his condo. He promised to let them
know when he got everything finalized.

But now it was just her and Harley. "Well," she said into the quiet of
the room. "Like the old saying goes. I've made my bed and now I have
sleep in it." Squaring her shoulders, she took a breath. It was just a
bed. A wooden frame. A mattress and box spring. Pillows. Soft cotton
sheets. A fluffy comforter. Nothing to be afraid of in any way.

Here's where she tested her theory about being well enough to sleep,
by herself, in her own bed. The day had been long and tiring and her
body longed to sleep in her comfortable bed and not her lumpy couch.

Walking to the night table she set the water down and wrestled the
child proof cap off the bottle of sleeping pills. Since, in addition
to the nightmares, insomnia had been a frequent problem when she'd
tried sleeping in a bed, she figured it wouldn't hurt if she had some
help going to sleep. Plus she hoped that the sleeping pill would put
her far enough out she wouldn't dream. She didn't stop to consider
that sometimes sleeping pills could put you so far under that you
actually dreamed more.

Pouring one of the pills into her hand, she popped it into her mouth
and swallowed it with a large drink of water. Putting the cap back on
the bottle she put it in the top drawer of the night stand. Setting
her alarm, she left the lamp on low because even she couldn't convince
herself that she'd be able to go to sleep in the dark. Flicking on the
TV, she started watching Leno.  He was about halfway through his
opening monologue when her eyes slid closed.

It was like before, but it was different. It was as if each nightmare
had a new layer to add, a new tidbit to expose and yet it happily fed
on the fear that the older images evoked. The darkness. The cold. The
sounds. The monster in the dark. The barn.

Like inmates jeering a returning convict who'd had her parole revoked,
they were there. Waiting for her.

As with her last nightmare, it began with her standing in the sunlight
on a perfect summer afternoon. Fields of ripe corn spreading out under
the wide canopy of razor-sharp blue sky. Walking along a dusty road.

She heard barking and looked back to see a small black and white dog
chasing her up the road, yipping excitedly. She laughed, happy to see
it. It's little legs were moving like mad to catch up to her. It's
little pink tongue was flapping excitedly in the breeze.

Then the dog was gone and she was once again standing near the gray
weathered barn that had appeared suddenly against the late afternoon
sky. Left with the knowledge that she was somewhere she didn't want to
be. Being unable to escape the terrifying darkness that reached out of
the barn to grab her. Trying to hide in the darkness, hoping, praying
she could make herself small enough that the monster wouldn't see her
this time. Knowing that it would do no good because the monster always
found her. It existed to find her. To punish and hurt her.

As she looked up from her hiding place, a pinprick of light appeared.
Fascinated, she momentarily forgot about hiding and began to move
toward it. Suddenly it seemed to rush at her and she realized too late
that it was the monster with a new face. And a new way to terrorize
her. Like a speeding bubble of light it engulfed her and blinded her
with its brightness. If possible, it was even colder in the light than
it had been in the dark.

As the light faded and her eyes began to adjust she saw that she was
still in the barn. Behind her and beside her it was still and black as
the darkest night. But, although the light was low, in front of her
she could see clearly enough. It somehow reminded her of being in a
play. The audience and the wings were dark to accentuate what was
happening on stage.

It was a work area of some sort. Tools hung on pegs attached to the
wall of the barn. A long, wooden workbench, that came about chest high
to her, sat beneath them. Various bales of hay sat off to each side.

Then she saw it. Laying on the work bench was the little black and
white dog, whimpering softly and trying to move. Her heart twisted for
the sweet little dog and she stepped forward to help him. A large
wound had opened in his side and blood was seeping steadily from it.
His eyes looked pleadingly at her and, petting his head gently, she
wondered what she could do for him.

"It was an accident," a voice softly said from behind her. Startled,
she turned quickly. But saw only a tall shadow. Undefined terror began
to dance along her spine but she didn't know why. She wanted to take
the little dog and run, but she was afraid and she backed away from
the workbench.  "I know I said I didn't like him but I didn't mean to
hurt him. Don't tell her. She'll be angry. We'll tell her he ran away.
He won't suffer. It will be our secret. Our special secret," it said.
The voice, soft and pleasant, seemed to come from nowhere and yet
everywhere. Each word drove itself into her brain like a soft spike.
It made her want to press her hands to her ears so she couldn't hear
it anymore, but she found that her arms were so heavy she couldn't
lift them.

The shadow moved to the workbench and seemed to solidify somewhat into
the form of a large man. He blocked her view of the little dog and as
his hands reached out, the dog continued to whimper softly. Suddenly,
like the crack of a gun shot there was a snap. Then silence. A silence
so deep she couldn't even hear her own breathing or the sound of her
own heart beating. The man-shadow seemed to loose it's shape a bit as
it turned away from the work bench and melted back into the darkness.
The little dog was still and quiet now, it's empty eyes staring back
at her.

Her utter horror gave her back the will to raise her arms and she
covered her eyes so she wouldn't have to look.  Wouldn't have to see.
Like angry bees shooting through her blood, the monster took that
moment to swarm over her again. "Our little secret. Our little secret.
Our little secret," it's sing song voice, the voice of the shadow,
chanted in her ear. "Our special secret. Don't tell."  Pain became a
living thing low in her belly and she tried not to pass out from it.
The sharp, bitter taste of adrenaline filled her mouth and she
swallowed it in an attempt to keep from being sick.

In final cruel punishment, with a chuckle, the monster yanked her
hands away from her face and forced her to look back at the workbench.
Only the little dog wasn't there anymore. Now, it was Harley's empty
brown eyes that stared back at her.

That was when she screamed.

Donna sat up in bed with that scream echoing in her head and her
bedroom. Her head was pounding, her heart was racing and the miniscule
contents of her stomach were threatening to revolt but she had more
pressing matters to deal with. "Harley?" she, called with a half sob.
She needed to know he was okay and that it was just a vivid, horrible
nightmare. Disturbed by his human's distress he was already sitting
right next to the bed looking up at her. "Oh, Harley," she said,
sliding out of bed and onto the floor she hugged him tightly.

About that time her stomach took center stage and protesting in
earnest, sent her running to the bathroom where she was violently ill.
Afterward, she took another hot shower to try and wash away the
sickness and the remaining tendrils of the nightmare. As much as tried
to not think about it, some of the elements of the nightmare kept
surfacing.

The barn. Where did that barn come from? She had grown up in a condo,
not on a farm. Had she seen it in a picture?

The dog. The little black and white dog.  She knew that dog. But from
where? From when?

The workbench. That was familiar too.  But why? She never remembered
her father, or anyone else, having a workbench.

'Dreams are a metaphor, right?' she thought.  Not to be taken
literally. Maybe the problem was she shouldn't be trying to take the
nightmares at face value. Maybe they just represented something else.
Something her brain was trying to tell her. 'Yes,' she justified.
'That must be it.' There was just no other answer.  The images and
feelings she'd had were just too horrible to be actual memories.
Memories she didn't....well, remember having in the first place.

The harder she tried to think about it, the more her head hurt and the
fuzzier the details became. So she decided to do the most logical
thing and stop thinking about it. By the time she finished with her
shower and stepped out of the bathroom, she felt calmer but she knew
that sleeping in the bed was simply not going to work.

"...you're going to self-destruct," Dr. Todd's words rang in her ears.

"I'm not 'self-destructing,' I'm fine. Really," she told Harley, who
was watching her from his pillow at the foot of her bed. "So I can't
sleep alone in the bed right now. So what?  Big deal. I'm sure there
are lots of people who can't sleep in a bed.  The couch is just fine.
Eventually I'll work back up to the bed and everything will be fine.
Just fine."

'But not tonight,' she thought. For the remaining 3 hours she had to
go before the alarm went off she needed to be near Harley so she knew
he was all right. Pulling a pillow and her comforter off the bed she
laid down next to his large pillow and went to sleep with the sound of
his soft breathing in her ear.

**********

Donna trudged down to the mess in search of something caffeinated,
with a side of something masquerading as a baked good. The coffee in
the mess was a half a step up from the coffee in the bullpen and today
she needed all the help she could get. Her day had been completely
thrown off and it was only 9:30. She'd slept heavily on the floor, so
much so that she'd slept right through her alarm and been 15 minutes
late to work. She hadn't had a chance to look over the clippings again
or even get the newspaper and she felt completely out of touch. She
also felt groggy and a little listless and wondered if it was from the
sleeping pill, the nightmare, sleeping on the floor or a combination
of all three. Her contact lenses had been difficult to get in and
she'd gone through two pairs of pantyhose while she'd been getting
dressed.

The only thing she'd managed to do right all morning was get Josh off
to his breakfast meeting on the Hill on time. Stepping up to the
counter, she filled a styrofoam cup with hot black coffee and chose a
blueberry muffin from the display.

That time of the morning, the mess was fairly deserted. With the usual
day at the White House starting about 7 a.m., it was a little late for
the 'first cup of coffee as they walk in the door' crowd and a little
early for the 'mid-morning coffee break' crowd. Turning to walk back
out of the mess she saw a discarded Washington Post lying on one of
the tables. Setting her muffin on the table, she flipped open the
paper and stood scanning the front page as she sipped her coffee.  She
didn't have to scan far. Just below the fold was the article she'd
been expecting but dreading. She and Kelly now had company.

LINK SOUGHT IN STRANGLER CASE

By Jeff Moreau

Washington Post Staff Writer

__________________________________________

WASHINGTON, D.C., September 17 - Yesterday afternoon the body of Amber
Thompson was discovered in her apartment in the Foggy Bottom
neighborhood of D.C. Concerned when she did not report for work on
Wednesday and did not respond to repeated telephone calls, a
co-worker, Diane Butozi, went to the apartment to check on Thompson
and found her body. Authorities report she had been beaten, sexually
assaulted and strangled in her apartment by an unknown assailant
sometime Tuesday night.

Thompson, 28, was a high-level assistant for Sen Diana Brock (D-Neb),
and had lived in D.C. for the past 7 years. Because Thompson was a
Federal employee and bore a striking resemblance to two other recent
murder victims, preschool teacher Kelly Gibbs and White House staffer
Donnatella Moss, the D.C. police and the FBI are looking for evidence
that will link the three cases together.

Unofficially dubbed the 'D.C. Strangler' case, all three murder
victims were female, caucasian, medium to tall in height, single,
blonde, between the ages of 25 and 32, and living in either the Adams
Morgan or Foggy Bottom neighborhoods of Washington.

This latest victim is causing concern among women living in the DC
metro area but authorities remain confident that the assailants will
be apprehended quickly. Lt. Aaron Watson, who was the investigating
detective for the Moss case and is now part of the growing task force
being set up to look into all three murders, had this to say: "We have
every reason to believe that with the mountain of evidence we've
collected and investigative work being done jointly by my office and
the FBI, the killer or killers in these cases will be quickly brought
to justice."

'Oh God.' She knew Amber Thompson. Not well, but she'd spoken to her
on a number of occasions when Senator Brock had wanted to meet with
Josh or Josh with her. She'd even met her once at a Congressional
Christmas party. She was bright and attractive, smart as a whip with a
master's degree in political science from Georgetown. The coffee cup
slid out of her hand, and landed with a wet thud on the floor, spewing
it's contents out in all directions, including Donna's pant leg and
foot. But she didn't feel it. She only stared at the small color photo
of Amber that was included with the article. The few people remaining
in the mess looked up at the sound of the spilling coffee and noticed
her standing there, frozen. But she didn't notice. Her eyes met
Amber's. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Amber."

The nausea hit her then, like a hard wave it washed over her. Turning,
she ran from the mess and down the hall to the bathroom where her
vomiting removed all traces of the coffee she'd attempted to drink.
After wiping her mouth and flushing the toilet, she slid into a
sitting position on the floor and raised her hand to run it through
her hair. No, wait she couldn't. Her hair was covered by Sydney's and
she didn't want to risk possibly dislodging the wig. Her hand slowly
closed into a tight fist. She banged it on her knee, harder and
harder, trying to relieve the anger and frustration that seemed to
haunt her but from which she could find no release, until both her
hand and her knee cap began to throb.

Dropping her hand tiredly in her lap she stared up at the ceiling.
Well, at least she hadn't lost the ability to feel physical pain. Her
attacker had at least left her with that. Oh, and the ability
apparently to vomit at regular intervals. Yeah, life was good.

"Okay, Sydney," she said to the deserted bathroom. "Time to get up off
this floor and go back to work." Heaving herself up off the floor, she
straightened her clothes and stepped out of the stall and walked to
the sink. She rinsed her mouth and stood up.  Sydney looked back at
her from the mirror. Her hair was in place and didn't look any worse
for wear. The whites of her eyes were a little red but the brown
irises stared back at her. The eyes of a stranger. The eyes of someone
who was a part of her but she didn't know. The eyes of the person she
showed the world. A person that didn't really exist. "Well, you're
just a fraud all the way around aren't you?" Donna said out loud.
What she couldn't figure out was if she was talking to Sydney...or
herself.

**********

After returning to the mess and cleaning up the spilt coffee and
buying a bottle of water to replace the coffee, Donna had taken her
muffin and the folded up newspaper - she'd need to add the news
article to her collection - and went upstairs.

"Hey, Sydney," Ryan said with his usual goofy charm, as she entered
the bullpen. "Where are those boxes you wanted me to take over to the
OEOB?"

"Right over at my desk, Ryan," she told him.

"That muffin looks good. Where'd you get it? I overslept and didn't
have any breakfast."

Donna looked at the plastic wrapped muffin clutched in her hand.
After the episode in the bathroom, food wasn't going to be a high
priority for a while. "I got it in the mess, but here," she said
holding it out to him. "You can have it."

"Really?" he looked at her skeptically. "'Cause I wouldn't want...I
mean it's yours and all. I don't think..."

She really wasn't in a mood to banter with him right then. "Ryan? Are
you going to take the damn muffin or not?" She said with more
tiredness than temper.

"Ah.....sure," he said, taking it carefully out of her hand like it
might be a lure in some kind of booby trap. "Thanks."

"Here are the boxes," she said, pointing to a small stack by her desk.
"They need to be at the OEOB by noon." Pulling out her chair, she sat
down.

"Right. I'll just...eat this muffin and then get right on it."

"Kay," she said, already not listening to him as she looked through
her e-mail. There was a parting e-mail from Sam to her personal Yahoo
account that made her smile.

To: harleysmom@yahoo.com

From: sailingseaborn@aol.com

Subject: Temporary Departure

Hey D,

I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to come by and say goodbye in person
but the last couple of days have been crazy for me. I think Josh told
you I found a place in Foggy Bottom for my new office. I'm really
looking forward to coming back to DC in a couple months. Sooner if I
can manage it. Seeing all of you again definitely cemented my decision
to leave California and return to the Beltway.

Toby tells me I have a bright future as a personal shopper if the law
practice falls through. I guess it's always good to have options. In
all honesty, I'm glad I could help you with the shopping and the
apartment.

I hope the next three months find you happy and healing. Tell Josh
that he better be careful that he doesn't piss you off too much as
I'll need someone to run my law office and I might steal you away from
him. But seriously, always remember that Josh and I and,
well...everyone care about you so much. Don't be afraid to lean on us
once in a while. Weak or strong. Right or wrong. It's what friends do
for friends.  Take Care.

Love,

Sam

Just as she finished reading, a breathless Josh burst into the
bullpen. She turned to watch him. Still breathing a bit hard, he
stopped and stood in front of her, staring at her through the glass
partition. The only time he looked away from her was when he looked
down at the folded newspaper on her desk. His face was one big worried
question mark and she realized that he must have heard about Amber
when he was on the Hill. Cocking his head, to signal he wanted to see
her, he ambled into his office.

With a sigh, she followed him in and closed the door.  She really
didn't want to discuss this but she knew there was no way to get
around it. He dropped his bag unceremoniously on the floor by his desk
and turned to her.  "You heard?"

"Yeah, I was in the mess and picked a copy of The Post someone had
left behind," she told him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod and a forced smile.

"'Cause I know that you kind of knew Amber from our dealings with
Senator Brock." He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
"Heck, we all knew Amber. She was in half the meetings I had with
Brock."

"Yeah, I know," Donna said, going into 'reassure Josh' mode. "How are
you doing, Josh?"

"Oh, I'm okay," he said, waving away her concerns. He walked over to
her and put his hands gently on her upper arms, "I was up on the Hill
when I heard and I just didn't want you to find out from the TV again.
I never thought about you doing something crazy like, say, reading the
paper." He smiled a bit, then sobered. "I guess I just didn't want you
to be alone when you found out."

"It's okay, Josh," she said with what she hoped was a reassuring
smile. "I mean I was kind of hoping I was wrong and Kelly and I would
be the only victims but Mike told us that my attacker was probably a
serial killer, so it's not totally unexpected." 'Wow, you lied really
good just then,' part of her accused.

"I know but...." He sighed and closed his eyes for a minute.  "I guess
Amber cuts kind of close to home again and reminds me a bit about what
happened to you." 'And how close I came to losing you,' he added
silently. Feeling the warmth of her arms under his hands helped to
ease the knot that had apparently taken up residence in his chest.

She hugged him, as much for herself as for him, "I know, Josh. It's
pretty scary. But I'm okay. I'm right here and I'm not going
anywhere." She released him and smirked a little, "Although according
to the e-mail I got from Sam this morning, you'd better not piss me
off too much or he'll steal me away to run his new law office."

He knew she was teasing him and he appreciated it. "Well, then I guess
I'll have to avoid pissing you off. Oh, but I can still yell at
Sydney, right?"

Donna rolled her eyes.  "Sure, Josh. Whatever. But you do realize that
she's impervious to you, don't you?"

He grinned at her, "Yeah, I got that impression when during one of our
bullpen 'tiffs' I called her a sloppy, disorganized half-wit and she
just smiled and said, and I quote, 'It takes one to know one.'" They
both chuckled about that for a moment.

"Sorry, it was the only comeback line I could think of," Donna told him.

"It was a little junior high of you, but it got the point across," he
replied, sitting down in his chair. He looked up at her, the emotion
in his eyes serious now. "Why don't you see if you can get Mike on the
phone.  Maybe he can tell me what they're doing to catch this guy."

Donna nodded and went out to place the call.

**********

Getting out of the shower, Donna wrapped herself in a robe and went
into the living room. It was early yet, about 4:30 a.m.  Although it
was Saturday and she didn't need to go in until 10, she'd still gotten
up early. She wasn't sleeping much these days anyway and it was just
easier if she kept the same schedule whether it was a weekday or a
weekend day.

Removing the bedding from her new, and now much more comfortable
couch, she folded the linens and put them in away in the bedroom
closet until she was ready to take them out again tonight. She'd
pretty much resigned herself to sleeping on the couch. In the three
months since her run in with Dr. Todd and her decision to not go to
therapy, she'd tried sleeping in her bed a grand total of two times.
Both times had been dismal failures.

The first time she'd lain awake the whole night. The only thing she
managed to do was buy a juicer for Sam as a housewarming present. It
was amazing what people would try to sell during late night TV. She'd
also watched a rather mind-numbing marathon of old Godzilla movies on
the Sci-Fi Channel. But sleep had completely eluded her.

The second time was predictable to say the least. She gone to sleep
all right but had the same nightmare as before. The one that included
the little black and white dog. She took it as a blessing that during
that dream she'd woken up before Harley had made an appearance.

Moving into the kitchen, she flipped on the coffee maker and she fed
Harley, who'd followed her out into the living room when he'd heard
her exit the bathroom. While she waited for the coffee to brew she
went back into the bedroom and pulled the two boxes out from under the
bed. Carrying them back out into the dining room she did what she did
every morning. She emptied the contents of both of them onto the
table, separating each item into appropriate piles.

Hearing the coffee maker finish she got up and poured herself a cup.
There was a calendar nearby.  The days had begun to blur together for
her and she rarely noted the calendar anymore when it wasn't work
related. But for some reason she noted now that Halloween was coming
in two weeks. 'Well,' she thought absently 'At least I already have my
costume.' She frowned. 'But which one is the costume? Sydney or
Donna?' It was getting harder and harder to tell.

As she'd done so often in the days, weeks and months since the attack
she let that thought trail into nothing. It took too much energy to
think about things like that.

Putting her coffee down in the center of the table, she started at the
beginning. She started with herself. With the clippings she's saved
about her murder. And the note cards she's made about any tiny thing
she remembered about that night. Each pile had its own set of
clippings, its own set of note cards. Once she'd read everything in
her pile, she moved onto the next one. To Kelly.

Then to Amber Thompson.

Then to Tanya Clark. The clerk that had worked at the deli near
Donna's old apartment and lived in Adams Morgan.  At 22, she was the
youngest of the victims.

Then to Sarah James. She'd worked at the Smithsonian as a curator and
lived in Foggy Bottom.

Then to Angela Harrison. The waitress who'd been trying to put herself
through law school at Georgetown.

And to Brenda Cunningham, the newest addition to what Donna had
dubbed, the '7 Sisters.' She had been a clerk at the Library of
Congress.

Donna, at 32, was the oldest of the 'Sisters' and she felt kind of
like a big sister to her younger 'siblings.' That was one reason why
she poured over these clippings every day and why she made note cards
about important information pertaining to each of their cases. The
other was to remember them, to never forget the six bright women who'd
been visited by the same monster that she had. The monster now called
"The DC Strangler" by the press. The monster she'd been unable to
stop. The one that she couldn't even remember.

Through her numerous phone calls with Mike Casper, she'd learned that
all seven cases were definitely related. All the victims had the same
general physical characteristics and lived either in the Adams Morgan
or Foggy Bottom neighborhoods of DC.  All had received a immobilizing
blow to the head.  All had been sexually assaulted. All had an
identical burn on their hip. All had been strangled. All of the crime
scenes had been unusually cold because the AC units had been turned
all the way up. All had something personal, usually a cell phone,
taken from their apartments by the killer. And someone in each of the
victims lives, usually the first one listed on their cell phone
address books or speed dials had been contacted by the killer.

But there were some differences, part of which Mike attributed to the
fact that predators get better with each attack.  They learn and
refine their technique with each murder.

Donna's murder had been the only one with evidence of a gun being
involved. Donna, Amber, and Angela had all been beaten fairly badly,
especially about the head. Leaving Mike and the DC police to theorize
that, as in Donna's case, the killer had gotten angry when the victims
had been unconscious or only semi-conscious during the attacks. He'd
used a condom when he'd raped and then murdered the last three, Sarah,
Angela and Brenda but it didn't matter because he'd left behind enough
other DNA, mostly through hair and fingerprints that the same killer
could be linked to all the murders.

Usually during her calls with Mike he would apologize to her for not
being able to stop the killer and for the fact that she'd had to
remain 'Sydney' for as long as she had. He told Donna that he never
imagined the hunt for her attacker would go on so long.

But she knew that the 'DC Strangler' task force that Mike and
Lieutenant Watson was heading up, were doing everything thing they
could to find the killer. She also knew that they'd been thwarted at
every turn. No known records of his DNA or fingerprints had been found
at any agency that kept such records. And except for the Adams Morgan
and Foggy Bottom connection and the fact that the victims were all
single and blonde, there was just no way to predict where he would
strike next.  It didn't help that they were being deeply criticized in
the press and in public opinion.

Normally when a serial killed struck it was in at an 'at risk' group.
Prostitutes, runaways, transients, children, etc. But this killer was
assaulting and murdering women in their own homes and there seemed to
be virtually NO witnesses. Mike said he hadn't heard of anything quite
like it since the files he'd read on Ted Bundy. That led the task
force to theorize that not only was he carefully targeting his victims
but he was careful and non-descript enough that he blended into his
surroundings. Never leaving anyone with enough of an impression to
remember.

He knew how to get in and he'd lie in wait for his victim. Knew when
they'd be coming home. Knew if they had pets. So far none of the
victims had been pet owners. Knew who left their windows open. Knew
whose building did and did not have a doorman. Knew who had fire
escapes. He'd used a glass cutter to get into two of the apartments,
clearly reinforcing Sam and Josh's assertion that he still would have
gotten into Donna apartment even if she'd had her windows closed and
locked.

She gave the 'Sisters' a final look. Even their faces failed to stir
her anymore. There was just....nothing. Her head felt badly they'd
died and that she hadn't been able to help save them. But it was like
something had been severed between her head and heart. The signals
didn't connect between the two anymore. So while her heart continued
to beat, it was empty. About the only things she managed to feel
anymore were bouts of fear and anger.

With a sigh, she carefully, reverently put everything back into the
boxes and she put them away until tomorrow.

**********

Josh came back from Toby's office and entered the bull pen to find
Donna yelling at Ryan. Not necessarily an unreasonable pastime in and
of itself but she seemed to be on a very short fuse with everyone
these days. The moment that she saw Josh, she stopped her verbal
assault on Ryan and sat down at her desk.  Ryan took the opportunity
to quietly scurry away. Josh knew the fact that her attacker hadn't
been caught and it was still necessary for her to keep up her
masquerade as Sydney, didn't help. He just wished he knew how to help
her.

Then he had an idea.  "Come with me, Sydney," he said, taking her
gently by the arm and tugging her up and out of her chair and into his
office.

"What?" she said as he closed the door behind them.

"Lean up against the wall," Josh told her.

She looked at him skeptically, "Josh, is this some kind of kinky come
on that I'm going to have to file harassment charges for?"

He grinned, knowing she was kidding and enjoying the fact that she was
making an attempt to bring the banter, which seemed harder and harder
for her to do these days.  "Just humor me and lean with your back up
against the wall."

Walking over the wall, she did as he asked.  "Okay, now what?" she asked.

Josh walked over and leaned back up against the wall next to her. He
turned his head and looked at her, "I've never told you this but
Stanley told me this is a good way to calm myself when I'm feeling
overwhelmed or like I'm going to have an attack.  I know that you've
caught me in here a time or two leaning against the wall just like
this.  You never asked me why, you just gave me that cute, slightly
amused smile you have and went about your business." He paused, trying
to find the right words.  He took her hand in a gesture that was more
supportive than romantic. "If you're ever feeling like things are
getting to be too much, I want you to feel free to come in her and
pull up some wall."

His words along with the warmth of his hand in hers, touched some
sleeping part of her heart. Before the incident it would have had her
getting all teary but while her head knew how unbearably sweet and
supportive he was being, her heart only managed to sigh softly.
"Thanks Josh. I appreciate that," she paused.  "But you don't have to
worry about me.  I'm fine."

'Oh, Donnatella, you're really not,' he thought.  'I've seen the look
in your eyes before.  In my own mirror.' He kept hoping that with
time, support and therapy, the look would fade. But the haunting
emptiness, beyond the blankness she'd shown right after the attack,
seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her eyes. She tried to
hide it behind those terrible glasses or a rare smile or a flippant
remark or even the occasional angry words but he still saw that look.
Knew that look.

Whenever he would try and ask her about it, she would get defensive
and say she was working with her therapist to handle it the best that
she could. What could he say to that? She was apparently doing
everything that needed to be done.  But still he worried.

Of course, he had no idea that she wasn't getting any therapy and he
was right to worry.

Even through her padded body suit he could see that she'd lost weight.
And whenever he saw her without the suit on she wore long, loose
fitting blouses or bulky sweaters. He rarely saw her eat and she'd
turned into more of a work-a-holic than he was. She was there when he
got in every morning and he suspected that the only reason why she
wasn't there every night when he left was because she had to take
Harley home to feed him. To Josh, if for no other reason than that,
Harley was worth his weight in gold. Of course there was also the fact
that although he had to fight the big mutt for the couch on a number
of occasions, Harley had grown on him in the last three months.

Not quite sure what else to do, Josh nodded and let go of her hand.
"Okay.  Now get back to work," he said, softly, pushing away from the
wall.

Actually, she thought, it felt kind of soothing to lean up against the
wall.  "Josh?"

"Yeah?" he said, turning to face her.

"Would you mind if I just stood here for just minute?"

He smiled at her softly, "No, I don't mind at all."

"You've got your meeting with Leo in 5 minutes," she reminded him.

"Right. I'm going.  You stay here as long as you like." Hope began to
flutter in his chest as he turned and opened the door, careful not to
let it swing open too far and smack her.

"Josh?" she said softly.

He stopped, "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"No problem," he replied.  He watched her for a moment and then he
stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him. As he walked
to Leo's office, he made a mental note to call Stanley after his
meeting.  There was something going on and Stanley was the one to help
him get to the bottom of it.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 21 - MATURE



It was late, even by White House standards, but for Senior Staff and
their assistants there was no going home. As Matt Skinner had
predicted, the Foley bill, a piece of sweeping environmental
protection legislation, had squeaked its way out of committee and was
coming up for a vote in the House tomorrow. The vote would be close
and they were working every angle and talking to anyone and everyone
that they thought could help them get it passed.

That aside, and because of the late hour, the atmosphere among Senior
Staff was decidedly relaxed. Sam was currently driving in from
California and was due into town in the next few days. In celebration
of his permanent return and what would hopefully be a win in the House
tomorrow, they'd planned to all go out to dinner Saturday night.

The President was in his private study in the residence, catching up
on some reading. Leo was speaking to the minority whip to express to
him just how important it was that the bill pass while Margaret sat at
her desk worrying that Leo was working to much and sleeping too
little. Josh was currently turning the screws to an on-the-fence
Democratic Congresswoman from Michigan. CJ was reviewing some notes
for her morning briefing while Carol worked on some fact checking.
Toby had just finished writing the press statement CJ would put out if
the bill passed and was currently bouncing one of his trademark red
rubber balls against the wall. As soon as he pulled out the ball,
Ginger and Bonnie had quickly and mysteriously cleared out of the
communication bullpen.

Donna was sitting at her desk, waiting for Josh to finish so she could
place his next call.  While she waited, she searched the Internet for
any articles about the murders. Harley lay on the floor next to her,
sound asleep and snoring softly. Because of the late hour and the
casual atmosphere of the evening, Josh had let her bring Harley into
the bullpen for the evening.  He was calling Harley the team mascot
and their good luck charm.

"Congresswoman Aimes, yes, the bill will be a little hard on the auto
makers by making them conform to more stringent emission standards,
but it will be worth it in the long run with lower pollution rates,"
he argued. At the moment, the freshman Congresswoman was stuck between
a rock and a hard place.  Namely, the auto makers in Detroit who had
funded much of her campaign and the White House. Josh listened to her
argument with a little less attention than he would have normally
shown. As much as he wanted the bill to pass, his mind was fairly well
occupied elsewhere.  Namely with Donna.

After his meeting with Leo yesterday, Josh had talked to Stanley on
the phone.  Stanley agreed that things did not seem like they were
going that well for Donna and therapy. But he also pointed out that
she may have a lot of issues she's dealing with and as long as she
wasn't a danger to herself or anyone else AND she was going to therapy
there wasn't too much more Josh could do but be there for her as a
friend. He suggested that Josh just give her a little more time. If
things still weren't getting any better after another week or two,
Stanley told Josh to call him and they'd look at things a bit more
closely.

On the one hand, the conversation had done little to put Josh's mind
at ease, mostly because it involved him not actually DOING anything.
For Josh, the consummate fixer, that was a hard thing. But on the
other hand, at least Stanley had acknowledged that his concerns were
not unfounded and he'd given some kind of a deadline for when some
kind of action might need to be taken. That was something anyway.

Trying to focus in on what Congresswoman Aimes was saying he argued
back and forth with her for a few minutes longer.  She was still
wavering but he sensed that by the end of the call, she was wavering
in the direction of the White House.

Hanging up the phone, he sat back in his chair for a minute and took a
breath. He knew she was sitting out at her desk, waiting to make his
next call. But he decided it was time for one of the "being there for
her" moments Stanley had mentioned. Pulling out his cell phone he
typed in a text message and sent it off to her. "Could you please come
in here for a minute?" Even from his office, he could hear her cell
phone signal the incoming message in the now quiet bullpen. She
appeared in his doorway a moment later.

In the low evening light she looked even thinner than she had
yesterday afternoon, especially her face. Although her wig and glasses
hid a lot of her face, he thought her cheekbones looked a little too
sharp, her cheeks and her eyes a little too sunken. Stanley had said
to wait a week to two weeks. Well, he decided right then that a week
was as long as he was going to be able to hold out.  He was just too
concerned about her.

"Did you need something?" she asked.

"Yeah, could you come in and close the door, please." He asked it
gently but it wasn't a question. She did so and stood in front of his
desk.  "Sit down," he told her.

She sat down in one of his visitors chairs,  "Okay, I'm sitting as
requested.  What do you need?"

Josh sighed at her almost snippy tone. "I need you to talk to me."

"About what?"

Josh leaned forward and rested his weight on his elbows. "How are you?"

"Josh, do we have to do this now? In case you haven't noticed, we're
in the middle of getting this bill passed.  All of your attention
should be focused there," she told him, hoping that would get him to
drop it.

He saw the attempt at misdirection for what it was and he realized
that she'd been doing it a lot over the last few months. But he was
done letting her get away with it.  "Donna," he said, getting up from
his chair and sitting in the other visitor's chair opposite her.
"You're right, the bill is important to me." He paused and looked at
her squarely. "But not as important as you are." Carefully, he laid
his hand over hers, "I'm really worried about you."

Her head knew his words should stir something in her but her emotions
wouldn't cooperate. "You don't need to worry about me, Josh. I'm..."

"Fine?" he finished for her.

"What, do I call you the Great Creskin now?"

"Donna..." he began.

"No, Josh," she said, pulling her hand out from under his. "How many
times do I have to tell you that I've got everything under control?
I'm going to therapy like you told me to." She didn't even bother to
acknowledge it was a lie anymore. "What more do you want me to do?"

Josh kept a reign on his frustration, "Donna, you've been saying that
for the last three months. I'm telling you this because I'm your
friend and I care about you, but you don't seem to be getting better.
If anything it's like you're getting worse.  You're snapping at
everyone. You can bring the banter but you never smile."

She wasn't going to have this conversation with him.  "That's it?  I'm
snappy and I don't smile? Well, Josh, I'm sorry if I'm a little under
par after everything that's happened to me in the last three months.
In case you haven't noticed there's been some major crap going on in
my life."

"I know that better than anyone, Donna," he said, quietly. "I was the
one who held you, remember? Held your head when you were sick and held
you to keep the nightmares away so you could sleep."

His words were like a slap to her. Not because he'd said them harshly
or meant them that way but because they were true and truth had not
been one of Donna's best traits in the last few months. She opened her
mouth to snap out an angry reply, then shut it.  She'd been about to
ask him why he'd stopped doing both. Why she got sick with no one but
Harley around and why he wasn't there when she woke in the night with
mindless terror thick in her heart. But she knew the answer to both.
Because she'd lied to him and kept him away so he wouldn't see what
was really going on. Wouldn't see that at times she felt like a
stranger in her own skin. It didn't help that last night, she'd had
her first nightmare while sleeping on the couch. Now even that refuge
was lost to her. The pieces of her life seemed to be crashing down
around her and she didn't know what she was going to do or how to fix
it. All she did know was that she was NOT going back to Dr. Todd.

She somehow managed to control the anger that threatened to break
loose and took a breath. "Yes, Josh, I remember," she replied. It
seemed like a lifetime ago. "But that was then and this is now and
I've got to fix this on my own and Dr. Todd says it won't happen
overnight.  You just need to give me some more time."

Josh looked at her for a moment. He didn't think she was nearly as
calm as she was acting. But Stanley had told him to wait a week, so he
would wait a week and not a day more. If she hated him for butting in,
he could deal with that. She'd pulled him back from the abyss after
Rosslyn and he was going to do the same for her. "Okay, Donna. Just
promise me you'll think about what I said."

"I will, I promise," she replied standing up, slightly relieved that
the conversation appeared to be over.

Josh felt like it was a mistake but he didn't know what else to do, so
he sighed and stood up, "All right. Could you please get me
Congressman Stephens on the phone?" he asked her as he walked around
behind his desk and sat down.

"The one from Oregon or the one from Arizona?" she asked him, trying
to use work as a shield.

"The one from Arizona."

"Will do," she said and pulled open his door so she could escape.
Walking out into the bullpen she stopped dead in her tracks when she
saw the spot where Harley had been sleeping was now empty. She tried
to hold onto her panic as she backed up and poked her head back in his
office.  "Josh, have you seen Harley?"

**********

Harley had woken up about the time Donna had closed the door to Josh's
office. He got up and trotted to the door. He picked up the familiar
scent of his human as it trailed across the room and disappeared under
the door. Harley could also just pick up the scent of the other human.
The one who fed him when he stared at him long enough and who liked to
play dog pile on the couch. He must be in the room with his human.
His sensitive ears could just make the soft murmuring of their voices.
 He sat down for a minute and considered his options. There wasn't
anyone around and his human seemed in good hands so maybe it was time
he did some exploring.  After all he might find some tasty morsel to
satisfy his rumbling stomach. He'd only be gone for a few minutes
anyway. Well, unless he found something interesting to eat or chase.

Trotting across the hardwood floors of the bullpen his toenails made a
slight clicking sound as he moved. His first stop was the room at the
end of the hall. The first human was looking over something on her
desk. She didn't look much fun at all.

A few feet away in the other, bigger room was another human. She was
mumbling to herself as she read something. But on the corner of her
desk was something very interesting. A big bowl, like his water dish,
but bigger and you could see through this one. And there were pretty
things in it. Rocks and a little building. The building looked just
like the outside of the white big house he was inside right now. But
the most amazing thing in the bowl was a gold thing and it moved.
Fascinated, Harley sat there, looking up at the bowl. The gold thing
went up and down and around. It played with some little rocks, sucking
them in and spitting them out. Harley could identify with that.

When he was little he'd eaten all kind of fun stuff. Rocks and sticks.
Shoes and hot dogs; he LOVED hot dogs. Blankets and grass. Newspapers
and squirrels. Well, he hadn't eaten that squirrel so much as he tried
to play with it but it wasn't very sturdy and soon it ended up just
lying there which was no fun at all. So he'd carefully taken it to his
previous human as a present. His previous human had seemed
underwhelmed at his thoughtfulness, to say the least, and the squirrel
had quickly disappeared.  That was the first and last time Harley had
tried to play with, or eat, squirrels. They were too fuzzy anyway.

But this little gold thing was fascinating. It didn't have legs or
anything and yet it seemed to just hover in the water.  'Hmmm,' he
thought.  'This might need closer investigation.' He jumped up and
laid his front paws on the end of the desk. The new position brought
him eye-to-eye with the little gold thing. And prompted the human
sitting at the desk to look up and let out a screech.

"EEK!  Harley!" CJ screeched, holding her hand over her heart. "You
scared the crap out of me. What are you doing in here, you crazy
mutt?" Harley glanced from Gail to CJ and then back to Gail. He had
the same look in his eye that Josh and Sam had right before they went
to try and build a fire in the Andrew Johnson fireplace. CJ had dubbed
it the "I'm-looking-for-trouble-but-it's-okay-'cause-I-know-what-I'm-doing"
look. "Oh, no you don't, mister! Gail is mine.  She is not your next
dog treat. Dogs don't like fish anyway. What are you, part cat?"

'Cat? Did she say cat?  Where?' Harley thought. He abandoned his vigil
of Gail's bowl to look back at her, his ears alert for any further
information on possible cat sightings.  He'd never eaten a cat but
there was a first time for everything. If nothing else it would
definitely be fun to chase one. That he'd definitely done before. The
best part was that cats were sturdier than  squirrels.

CJ had to admit Donna had definitely picked an interesting dog.  Some
of his expressions were downright....human.  You could almost hear him
speaking. Josh wasn't the only one that Harley had grown on in the
past couple of months. "No, Harley.  I didn't say there was a cat. I
said are YOU part cat?"

'Well, she doesn't need to be insulting,' Harley thought.

CJ sighed, "Harley, I'll make you a deal.  If you get your paws off my
desk and go bother someone else, like say....Toby, I'll give you some
beef jerky I've got in my desk. Do we have a deal?"

Harley didn't know what beef jerky was but it sounded good. With a
long, last look at the pretty gold thing, he pulled his paws off the
desk and walked over to her. She ran her hand over his head and,
smiling, scratched him behind the ears.

CJ reached over and pulled the beef jerky up for him to see, "As
promised," she said.

'Oooo, beef jerky looks very promising,' he thought. He could already
smell the salty, meaty goodness of it. He stretched his neck up a bit
to get closer to it.

"Ah, ah. No, outside my office, then you get the jerky.  I don't know
that I trust you not to finish off the jerky and still have Gail for
dessert." She stood up and walked to the door.  "Come on," she said.
Harley followed her out into the hallway.

Carol was standing out by her desk and had heard the entire exchange.
"So he was eyeing Gail, huh?" she said, patting Harley on the head.

"Yeah, remind me to get a bag of dog treats for my desk.  It may be
the only way Gail will see her next birthday, spawnday, whatever." She
looked down at Harley, "Okay, kiddo.  Here you go." She held the jerky
out and he took it carefully out of her hand and started chomping it
down. Carol and CJ smiled. "Okay, I'm going to get back to work," CJ
said.  She bent down to Harley, "Like I said, if it wouldn't be too
much trouble, go bug Toby." With a smirk she went back into her office
and closed the door. That was the only piece of beef jerky she had and
she wasn't sure she could guarantee's Gail's safety if she left the
door open.

Harley finished the last bit of beef jerky.  He LOVED beef jerky. It
now beat out hot dogs as his favorite food. How had he gone so long
without trying this amazing treat? He looked at CJ's closed door and
then looked up at Carol forlornly.

"Hey, don't look at me.  I don't even have a cracker I could give you
and I think you cleaned out CJ, so I wouldn't expect any more from
her," she said. Then she leaned in conspiratorially and picked up CJ's
line of reasoning, "But I bet Toby has something you might like.  His
office is that way," she whispered, pointing down the hall. "Just
don't tell him I told you."

'What's was a Toby?' Harley wondered. Curiosity was getting the better
of him he took the human's advice and set off down the hallway.

Carol watched him go a little amazed that he was going in the
direction she'd pointed him in. He couldn't really be headed to off to
find Toby.  Could he? She poked her head into CJ's office. "Um, CJ?"

"Yeah," she said without looking up.

"You know I pointed down the hall toward Toby's office and told Harley
that Toby might have something for him to eat. You don't think...."

CJ looked up now. It had been an endless day and she could use a
little comic relief, "That he's ACTUALLY going to go and pester Toby?"
CJ finished with a sprouting grin. "If he does I'm getting him a gift
card from the pet store that Donna uses." CJ hopped out of her chair,
"Let's go." The two of the trotted out of CJ's office after Harley. Of
course, to protect Gail, CJ pulled the door closed just in case Harley
circled back.

Harley walked down the hall near the communications bullpen. This was
a pretty nice place. What more could a dog ask for? Shiny floors that
made noise when he walked, just like at home. Soft carpets. Little
floating gold things. Beef jerky. And his human, whom he adored. He
just wished she was happier. He tried his best to make her smile like
she used to but it was getting harder and harder. But she was still
nice to him and fed him and bought him things and took him for walks
so he couldn't complain.

Then Harley heard it.

Bounce....bounce....thwack.

Bounce....bounce....thwack.

Bounce....bounce....thwack.

This required investigating.

Toby sat banging the red rubber ball against the wall.  It helped him
think. It helped keep him calm. And sometimes, like tonight, he did it
just to be annoying to anyone who might want to come and bother him.
It had become so second nature that he wasn't even watching where it
was bouncing anymore. He had a TV on in his office and was watching
Politically Incorrect while he bounced it.

Bounce, against the floor....bounce, rebound against the
wall....thwack, fly back into his hand.

Bounce, against the floor....bounce, rebound against the
wall....thwack, fly back into his hand.

Bounce, against the floor....bounce, rebound against the
wall....thwack, fly back into his hand.

Harley walked into the communications bullpen. He didn't see anyone
but he could still hear that intriguing noise.

Bounce....bounce....thwack.

Bounce....bounce....thwack.

Bounce....bounce....thwack.

Then Harley found the source of the noise. His eyes took on CJ's
"I'm-looking-for-trouble-but-it's-okay-'cause-I-know-what-I'm-doing"
look. It was a ball. He almost loved bouncing rubber balls as much as
he loved hot dogs, but not more than beef jerky. Beef jerky was now
his most favorite thing of all. He sat down and watched the ball
moving hypnotically back and forth from the human's hand against the
floor, against the wall and then back into his hand.  His head bounced
from point to point the ball made. Even Harley was impressed that the
human didn't have to look at the ball to know where it was.  That was
real talent.

Bounce, against the floor....bounce, rebound against the
wall....thwack, fly back into his hand.

Bounce, against the floor....bounce, rebound against the
wall....thwack, fly back into his hand.

Bounce, against the floor....bounce, rebound against the
wall....thwack, fly back into his hand.

CJ and Carol stood in the hall outside the communications bullpen.
They were peeking carefully through the window, watching the unfolding
scene and trying not to snicker too loudly at what they suspected was
coming. The way Harley's head was bouncing in time with the ball he
looked a little like he was watching a three-handed tennis game.

Harley followed the ball, unconsciously picking up the rhythm of it.
He used to be pretty good at catching Frisbees out of the air. The
gleam in his eyes got brighter as his whole body tensed.

Toby couldn't believe how stupid some of the panelists on this show
were. It was like someone paid them to be as stupid and vapid as
possible.

Bounce, against the floor....bounce, rebound against the
wall....thwack, fly back into his hand.

Bounce, against the floor....bounce, rebound against the
wall....thwack, fly back into his hand.

Bounce, against the floor....bounce, rebound against the wall.....

Toby's hand came up empty. It was so unexpected that his hand actually
made the motion to throw the ball again before he realized there was
no ball in it. He looked at his hand as if it had turned purple or
something. Then he glanced at the section of the floor and wall where
he'd been bouncing the ball. Then he heard the heavy breathing and
turned toward his doorway. There was Harley, sitting calmly, his tail
wagging. Like a hard won trophy, Toby's red rubber ball filled his
mouth.

Toby just stared at him, he was silently impressed that the dog had
apparently snatched the ball right out of the air.  "Good evening,
Harley. That was very sneaky of you.  Now, can I have my ball back
please?" Harley's only response was to wag his tail harder. "Okay,
Harley. What's it going to take for you to cough up the ball?" In
response, Harley rolled the ball in his mouth leaving some very deep
teeth marks. Toby winced. "Harley, you really need to stop that. Your
teeth marks are totally going to throw off the balance of the ball."
As if he understood, Harley dropped the ball near his front paws.

Toby sighed and got up out of his chair to retrieve the ball. In
response, Harley picked the ball again and took a step back. He rolled
the ball in his mouth again and this time he growled playfully.

Toby stopped and ran his hand over his forehead, "Okay, see, I don't
think you realize that you're supposed to be scared of me. I am the
human and YOU are the dog. You know, man's best friend and faithful to
the whatever?!" His voice rose a bit at the end. Harley took another
step back and continued to chew on the ball and growl.

Out in the hall, CJ and Carol were all but doubled over with laughter
at seeing Toby try and talk the ball away from Harley.

"Okay, Harley, this is your last chance. Give me the ball or there's
going to be trouble." Toby was now standing in his doorway and Harley
was standing by Ginger's desk. Harley's only response was his
continued playful growl.  "Don't say I didn't warn you." Toby lunged
for him and Harley whipped around and darted out into the hall. With
Toby on his heels, Harley raced down the hall, past a now loudly
laughing CJ and Carol.

Toby slowed down long enough long to scowl at both of them. "Did
either of you have something to do with this?" Toby yelled. "Cause if
you did, you'll be paying through the nose." He turned and hurried
after Harley.

"Come on," CJ told Carol between gasping breaths. "I've got to see
this," she said, pulling Carol with her. The were giggling and
laughing so hard they stumbled down the hall like two drunken sailors.

Harley ran down the hall evading the grumpy human. He loved this game.
The grumpy human seemed to be especially good at it because he got so
excited. Harley loved it when the humans got excited and chased him.
He burst into the bullpen and headed for the dog pile on the couch
human. His feet slipped slightly as he went from carpet to the
hardwood floor and he had to scramble frantically to keep his feet
from slipping out from under him as he ran around the corner. Then he
had to scramble again to pick up speed. He had to hurry or the grumpy
human would win.  Running past his human's desk, he darted through the
open door and crossed into the dog pile on the couch human's office.
It was carpeted which made it easy for him to stop right next to the
human.

"Harley? Where have you been?  She's worried sick," Josh said to him.
Then he blinked, "What do you have in your mouth?" In response, Harley
took a step forward and dropped the ball in Josh's lap. Then, panting
hard from running, he sat back and looked up at Josh expectantly.

"HARLEY!" Josh heard Toby bellow.

Josh realized what the wet, red, rubber lump was and he grinned.
"Harley, quick, over here," Josh whispered, pointing to the far side
of the back of his desk. Harley trotted over and sat down. "Now, stay
and be quiet," he said softly to Harley. Toby would have to come
completely around to the back side of Josh's desk to see Harley. He
slid his chair farther under the desk so Toby wouldn't see what was
left of the red rubber ball in his lap.

"HARLEY!" Toby said, bursting into Josh's office.

"No, Toby I keep telling you. The name is Josh. Jo-sh-ua Ly-man. Say
it with me."

Toby was out of breath. "Where's the mutt?"

"Which mutt would that be?" Josh asked him.

"Scooby-Doo, Josh," Toby yelled in frustration. "Who do you think?  HARLEY!"

Josh casually kept one hand down on Harley's neck so he wouldn't come
out at the sound of someone calling him. "Oh, that mutt."

"Yeah, that mutt. He took my...I was bouncing...he snatched the, you
know, right out of the air. Then CJ and Carol..." at the sound of
giggling. Josh and Toby turned to see CJ and Carol in his doorway,
still laughing. "CJ and CAROL!" Toby exclaimed and pointed at them, as
if that explained everything. "I'm sure they know something." Then
Toby turned back to Josh.  "So?"

Josh looked at him and gave him a carefully schooled frown. "So.....?
What was the question again?"

"What was the....?" Toby frowned at him. "It was about where...or if
you've see the.... Oh, forget it, I'll just keep looking for that
crazy dog." He started to stalk out of the office.  "And STOP
following me around! I can find him on my own. I don't need your help
or whatever," he told CJ and Carol as she moved past them. His exit
prompted a whole new round of giggles from them.

Josh pulled out his phone and sent Donna a text message.  "He's fine.
He's in my office." He knew how worried she was. He wouldn't soon
forget the look of panic had appeared suddenly on her fact when she
saw that Harley was missing.

"So where is he?" CJ said when she could breathe again.

Josh grinned, "What makes you think he's here?"

"Elementary my good Mr. Lyman. One, he was being chased.  What is more
natural than a dog that wants to return to his owner.  But D...Sydney
wasn't there so he settled for you." She paused and looked at Josh.
"And two, there's a small blotch of red rubber stuff, like from Toby's
red rubber ball, there on the floor by your desk. See how simple it
was to figure out?"

Just then they heard the sound of pounding footsteps and the doors to
the bullpen being thrown open. "Harley!" It was Donna's voice this
time. Josh took his hand off Harley, who started out and around Josh
as Donna rushed past CJ and Carol into the room. "Oh, Harley!" she
said.  They met each other in halfway in the middle of the room. Donna
dropped to her knees and hugged him.

"You crazy dog. You scared me!" she said she hugged him and he licked
her face. "Please don't do that again." She looked up at Josh. "Where
was he?"

"He came into my office carrying this," he said, holding up the
mangled ball.  "I have a feeling he went to visit Toby."

She looked at the ball he held up. "Oh, Harley. It's not good to tease
Toby like that.  He could make your life, and mine, very difficult."

"He also paid me and Gail a visit.  He was eyeing Gail a little
suspiciously." She paused. "I told him I thought he might be part cat.
He didn't seem to appreciate that so much."

"You've been a busy boy," she said stroking behind his ears. He
continued to lick her face. "Okay, okay. You're forgiven."

Josh watched her and frowned a bit. He could tell she was relieved to
see Harley but she still didn't smile. Didn't seem happy. What the
hell was going on?

**********

Today was the day. The house would soon be voting on the Foley bill
and, as usual, Josh was pacing nervously through the bull pen. Donna
had left for her therapy appointment 10 minutes ago and in addition to
worrying about the bill he was worried about her. Maybe there would be
some kind of breakthrough for her in therapy today. Maybe today would
be the day that she turned some corner toward getting better.

God, he hoped so.

"RYAN!" he bellowed.

Ryan popped up from his desk. "Yeah?"

"Go down to the mess and get me something for lunch," he said.  It was
a little early for lunch, but it always made him feel good to order
Ryan around, especially when it was for some minor, meaningless task.

Ryan looked at him a minute. "You know, me ordering food for you
probably isn't a good idea. That's one of the those little details
that Sydney excels at.  Why don't you just have her do it?"

"Look, Junior, you're not fit to lick Sydney's boots, much less be
raising yourself above her in any level of competence. So, when I tell
you to do something, instead of insulting her and trying to make
yourself into little Lord Fauntleroy, I'd like you to just do it."

"I just don't see why she can't do it."

Josh had to take a breath to keep from throwing something large and
heavy at Ryan in frustration. "Because she's not here.  She left the
building 10 minutes ago."

Ryan looked at him for a minute. "No, she didn't."

"Excuse me? Are you delusional as well as useless now?"

"Um, no, at least I don't think so," Ryan said with a frown. "But in
any case, 5 minutes ago I saw her heading downstairs." He paused. "And
you know, come to think of it she was wearing her coat and carrying
her purse which is kind of weird...."

Without hearing what else Ryan was babbling about, Josh turned and
went into his office. He had a really, really, bad feeling in the pit
of his stomach. Picking up the receiver he punched in the number he
wanted.

"Ron Butterfield."

"Ron? This is Josh Lyman."

"Yes, Josh.  What can I do for you?" Ron asked in his usual calm manner.

"I need to find Sydney. I think she went downstairs and was wondering
if you could check the security cameras and see if you can tell me
where she went. It's very important I find her." Worried panic had
begun seeping in and Josh's heart had begun to beat a little faster.

"Oh, sure Josh.  Let me check with the agents on duty in the
monitoring room. I'll call you back in just a minute. Are you in your
office?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Ron." Josh hung up the phone and started to pace the
confines of his office. So what did this mean?  Was there an easy
explanation? Did she just have to run downstairs for something before
she left or was there more to it than that?  Had she been lying to him
all this time?  He could hardly believe that. Why would she lie to
him? What could she possibly have to gain? He only cared about her.
For as many times in the last two weeks he asked himself the same
question. 'What the HELL is going on?'

His phone rang a few minutes later and from the display he could see
it was an internal call from Ron's office. He snatched the receiver
out of the cradle. "Ron, did you find her?"

'Yeah, Josh. They located her from the video surveillance tape."

"Where?"

Ron said one word in reply, but it was all Josh needed, "Sagittarius."

**********

Donna stood and looked at the board she'd set up on the easel. It was
a map of DC and she'd put a different pin in each of the murder sites.
A small picture of each victim, including one of her, was posted next
to each the pin. She was looking for a geographical pattern to the
murders but other than the fact they were clustered in Foggy Bottom
and Adams Morgan, she couldn't find one.  On the table behind her,
next to her coat and purse, was a small notebook that contained the
pertinent facts of the case scribbled in her own handwriting.

Now that there was no guard at the door and no one came down here
anymore, she always had this time, the time when she told Josh she was
going to therapy, to herself.  She'd stashed a few things, all having
to do with the murders, down here to keep her occupied during her
'therapy.' Donna considered it her own brand of therapy. Just as she
did every morning, she would spend the time thinking.

Suddenly she heard someone turn the knob on the door. She didn't have
time to go over and switch off the light or hide the map board, so she
snatched up her purse, coat and notebook and moved deeper into the
room where the shadows were more pronounced. Shoving her things onto a
dark, empty shelf, she ducked into a shadowy corner behind some boxes.
 Her heart was beating so fast it was deafening. She heard the door
open.

"Donna?'

'Oh, God,' she thought. 'It's Josh.' How did he find her?  How did he
know she was here? She always tried to be so careful when she slipped
away and down here. Although she had to admit, she'd been in a bit of
a hurry to get down here this morning.  She had to add Brenda
Cunningham's picture to the map board. Maybe she was getting sloppy
and someone had seen her.

"Donna? I know you're down here. Come out. I want to talk to you."

Well, she sure as hell didn't want to talk to him. She heard his
footsteps come down the short flight of stairs into the main part of
the room. He was going to want to know about therapy, or lack thereof,
and he was going to want to have another talk like last night's.  She
wasn't sure she could handle that.

"Please come out, Donna. We need to talk."

"I don't want to talk," she said before she could stop herself. "Go
back to your office and get the bill passed."

Josh's head snapped around the direction her voice had come from.  He
considered walking over there and finding her hiding place and
dragging her out. Lord knew he was angry and worried enough about her
to do it, but he thought it might be better for both of them if she
came out on her own. He saw the map board and walked over to it.
"Screw the damn bill, Donna. You know why I'm here and it's more
important to me than handholding the House Democrats to get them to
pass the bill."

That got no response so he continued. "So this is where you've been
spending your Wednesday mornings." He looked at the markers and the
faces on the map board.  A tiny chill when through him when he
realized they were all the murdered victims. He guessed Donna had been
the one to put it together. The word 'obsession' popped into his head.
"Donna, come out here where I can see you. I don't like talking to
shadows." No response. He tried a different tactic. "It looks like
you've been busy." He reached out and started to pick it up off the
easel.

She could see what he was doing from her hiding place. "Put it down,"
she said with a tone that meant she was very serious. She didn't want
anyone, not even Josh, touching the board.  It was her private
business.

"I'll only put it back if you come out and talk to me," he told her calmly.

"Fine," she said, stepping out from the dark shadows and into the half
shadows where he could at least sort of see her. "Satisfied?"

He looked from the board to her. "No, come all the way into the light."

Donna took two more, somewhat angry steps into the room. "Now, put it down."

"Sure," he said, gently setting it back on the easel. "A promise is a
promise after all." He turned to look at her for a minute. Every
muscle in her body looked coiled, like a snake ready to strike. Even
behind her brown contacts he could see her anger and, if he wasn't
mistaken, pain. "At least that's what I always thought.  You however
seem to have a different interpretation of that idea. After all,
weren't you the one that promised me after the thing with Jack and the
quote you'd never lie to me again?"

"Yes."

"But it would appear that you've broken that promise," he said
honestly. "And a host of others."

"I don't like being called a liar," she snapped.

"I would think you'd like actually BEING a liar even less," he snapped back.

She stared at him a minute.  How could she argue this point with him?
He'd clearly caught her lying. "Yes," she said, softly. "I'll go
upstairs and clean out my desk." Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Her simple statement and the edge of hopelessness he'd heard in it,
made the anger bleed quickly out of him. "Donna," he said with a sigh.
 "I don't want you to clean out your desk." He walked over to her and
gently laid his hands on her shoulders. "Look at me." When she didn't
he slowly moved one of his hands and placed his finger under her chin.
"I said look at me," his voice was gentle but there was an edge of
command in it.  He lifted her face to look at him. The haunting
emptiness was back in her gaze again and it nearly broke his heart.
"What I want is for you to talk to me."

"About what?" she said, quietly.

"About what?" he said incredulously. Dropping his hands from her he
took a step back and ran his hands over his face in frustration. With
a sigh, he sat down on top of the table. "Let's see, I have quite a
list of things I want to talk to you about.  Let's start with why
you've been lying to me about going to therapy."

She looked at him for a minute, "I haven't been completely lying." She
tried to justify. "I do have therapy. I come down here and think. It's
my own personal therapy."

He managed to keep himself from saying, 'Yeah, fat lot of good it's
doing you.' Instead he replied. "Donna, that doesn't count and you
know it. Why haven't you been seeing Dr. Todd? Did you EVER see Dr.
Todd?"

"Of course I did!"

"How many times?" She mumbled something. "You want to try that again?
I didn't hear you?"

"The first time," she snapped out.

"The first time. You mean once. You went two and a half months ago and
haven't been back." Rather than answering aloud, she nodded. "Why?"

"I didn't like it," she replied.

"Donna, believe me when I tell you that, especially in the beginning,
therapy is not fun.  It's not a trip to Disneyland.  You're supposed
to be revealing stuff about yourself that you don't want to reveal.
Things that are often painful and difficult."

The words tumbled out of her before she could stop them. "She was
mean, all right?  I didn't like going because she was mean and she
didn't like Harley and she called me a liar and reminded me of my
mother and she made me feel defective and pitiful and small."

Josh wondered if Donna realized what she'd just said about the doctor
reminding her of her mother. He knew Donna had issues with her parents
and after they way they'd reacted, or more accurately, HADN'T reacted,
after her assault, she wasn't the only one. "She reminded you of your
mother?"

"I never said that," Donna said, defensively.

"Yes, you did," he argued.

She looked at him a minute, "Fine, even if I did it doesn't matter."

He had a feeling it did matter but for now he let it drop. "Okay, so
when you decided you didn't like Dr. Todd, why didn't you just go and
find another therapist that you liked better?  People do it all the
time."

"Because I'm fine and I don't like people making me feel like a bug
under a microscope."

"No, Donna," he said, slipping off the table to stand in front of her.
"You're NOT fine.  You're so far from fine you couldn't see fine if
you had a pair of binoculars!"

"You're wrong!" she shouted back. "I'm just having a hard time. I want
to remember and I can't remember!  I know no one believes me but I
don't!"

"I believe you, Donna.  I've believed you all along and on that point
I still believe you," he said gently. "But you have to admit you've
been lying to me about therapy and if you honestly believe you're
fine, you're lying to yourself." When she said nothing he continued.
"Donna, don't you see, you're self-destructing right before my eyes."

"I AM NOT SELF-DESTRUCTING!" she screamed.  "Dr. Todd said I would but
I'm not. I would know it if I was!"

Josh kept his voice soft and low, "Not necessarily. Believe me when I
tell you that sometimes you can't see what's happening to you. I know
from experience. You don't always know when your life is coming apart
at the seams." he paused. "Donna, you're on the same path I was at
Christmas three years ago. And you can't just expect me to just stand
by and let it happen to you and not try to do anything to help you. If
you recall you didn't just stand by and let it happen to me."

His words struck a chord deep inside her.  She wanted to say he was
wrong, but again he was thwarting her argument with the truth.
"Everyone treats me like I'm broken.  But I don't want them to see me
that way," she said quietly.

Gently, he laid his hands on her shoulders, "Then we need to do
something to make you un-broken and prove them all wrong."

"I'd just be relieved to stop having all these stupid nightmares," she
said without thinking.

He flinched when she said it. It ripped at him that she'd been
suffering in silence all this time. He'd hoped that she was at least
getting better on that front. "Donna, where have you been sleeping for
the last two and half months?"

She blinked at him, realizing that he didn't know about the continuing
nightmares or their scope. It was kind of pointless to lie to him now.
"On the couch," she answered softly. "But even that's stopped working
for me. I had one last night even though I was on the couch."

He sighed heavily, "Okay. Well, I'll come over after the vote tonight
and we'll see what we can do about that."

"But..." It amazed her that she was about to tell him not to come over
when everything in her was screaming for his presence.

"No buts. It may be a bit late but I'll be there. If you manage to
drift off without me, I'll let myself in."  She nodded and if he
wasn't mistaken, looked a little relieved.  "I have one more question
for you."

"Okay, what is it?"

"Why did you feel that you had to lie to me about everything?"

A tiny part of her wanted to yell at him to stop calling her a liar
but again he had the truth on his side so she couldn't. Besides she
was suddenly so tired, she couldn't work up the energy to yell even if
she'd wanted to, which she didn't. It shamed her to think of all the
lies she'd told him in the last few months and here he was still being
incredibly understanding.  "Because I knew this would happen," she
said waving her hand between them.  "I knew we'd have this big fat
argument and I wanted to spare you, both of us, the aggravation."

He looked at her in disbelief, "So, basically, what you're saying is
that you've been lying to me to protect me from getting mad about
finding out you've been lying to me?"

"Well, when you put it like that it doesn't sound very good. But at
the time it made sense."

He chuckled a little at that. The moment reminded him of the night of
the second inauguration and the infamous snowball throwing. He'd told
Donna he knew that she'd said the quote had come from her because she
knew it would be easy for him to figure out the truth. She'd
responded, 'Not as easy as you made it.'

"Josh, the truth, the REAL truth, is that I just didn't want you to
worry about me. You've got so much going on that I'm the last thing
you need to worry about."

It hurt him that she thought that. That he'd apparently done things to
make her think that. "No, Donna," he said, gathering her in a gentle
hug. You're wrong, you're so wrong. You're the FIRST thing I need to
worry about. If I didn't have you to keep me in line I'd never be able
to do the other stuff.  In fact, the other stuff wouldn't even mean
anything to me without you there to share it with. I'm sorry if I
don't tell you often enough." He paused. "And just so you know, I
think you've definitely fulfilled the first promise you ever made to
me."

She frowned a bit as he hugged her. "What promise was that?"

"You've made yourself valuable to me. Invaluable even." He smiled when
he felt her arms tighten around him.

"Thank you, Josh," she whispered, a piece of the ice incasing her
heart melted a fraction.

"Now," he said, pulling back and releasing her from the hug. "This is
what's going to happen. You're going to take the rest of the day off."
She started to protest.  "No. This is your boss speaking. You're going
to pick up Harley and you're going to take the rest of the day off.
Go home and get some rest or watch soap operas or Oprah or go shopping
or take Harley to the park or get a manicure or whatever you want. The
only rule is it can't be work-related. I don't want you sitting at
home watching C-Span to see the outcome of the vote. I'll tell Leo
that we're coming in a bit late tomorrow so we can take some time in
the morning to work on getting you a new therapist. Stanley said he
knew a few that he could recommend right here in DC. But this time
there's going to be a requirement. I'm going to require that your
therapist calls me if you don't show up for your appointment. Okay?"

"That's fair," she said.  "BUT if I don't like the therapist I can
shop around for a new one, right?"

"Absolutely. You can shop around until you find one you feel
comfortable with," he told her.

"Thanks." She paused. "So you talked to Stanley about me?" she asked.

"Yeah, I told you about the first time he called me, remember? He
called to give me his condolences on your untimely demise. Since he
saw part of your funeral on TV, it took him a while to believe me when
I told him you weren't dead. I don't think I told you about the rest
of the story. It's actually kind of funny. Leo had to convince him I
wasn't having a nutty or something. Apparently he thinks I'm kind of
attached to having you around," Josh said with a smirk. "Then I called
him yesterday." He paused. "Please don't be mad. I've just been
worried you."

"No, I'm not mad," she said, honestly.  "Like I said, I'm just sorry I
gave you reason to worry."

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "We'll work on this Donna. I
swear. I'll do everything I can to help you. But I need a new promise
from you. No more lying, all right? No matter what, you tell me the
truth from now on."

She nodded and silently hoped she could keep this one, "I promise."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 22 - MATURE



Donna looked sleepily at her fingers and toes. It was almost midnight.
 After Josh had given her the rest of the day off, she and Harley had
walked home from the White House and on the way they'd passed a small,
almost empty salon. The owner didn't mind her bringing Harley in with
her, so she'd gotten a manicure and a pedicure. Then she'd stopped at
the small grocery store near her apartment for something to make for
dinner. It was the first time in weeks that she felt remotely like
eating. She also figured that Josh would probably be so busy
monitoring the vote tonight that he wouldn't eat anything decent.
She'd decided on homemade beef stew and she'd bought a loaf of French
bread to go with it. It would be easy to make and she could cook it
and keep it warm in a crock pot so it would be ready whenever Josh
wanted it.

So after she got home she put the stew together and put it in the
crock-pot to simmer. She'd sampled a few spoonfuls but she'd decided
to wait until Josh got there to have an actual bowl. Josh had called
her cell phone while she'd taken Harley on one more long walk to let
him do his business. They had talked for a few minutes and he'd told
her that the vote was going well so far but was still going to be
close.  He also reminded her that he would be coming over later that
night. Then she'd taken a long hot shower, put on her flannel pajamas
and spent the evening on the couch watching TV. Since the nightmares
had apparently stopped discriminating between the bed and the couch
and Josh would be there eventually to hopefully keep them at bay, she
decided to sleep in the bed. Planning to stay awake until Josh got
there, she laid down and picked up a book and tried to get involved in
it. But she didn't get very far before the day began to catch up with
her. The book slid from her hands as her eyes slid closed.

Donna laid on her bed and stared up at the bedroom ceiling. Shifting
patterns danced over it as the late afternoon sun filtered in through
the tree outside her window.  She was going to get in so much trouble.
Mama would be so mad. Even without a reason, she got mad enough as it
was anyway. And now that Donna had given her a reason it would be ten
times worse. She couldn't believe she'd blurted it out to the school
nurse. It had just tumbled out. She'd just wanted to tell someone. To
have someone believe her the way Mama hadn't. It was eating her away
inside. There were already parts of her she couldn't feel anymore.
She'd never considered the fact that not only would the nurse not
believe her, but she would tell Mama what she'd said.

She heard the car pull into the driveway, heard the car door slam.
Donna laid there and waited for what was about to happen.  She could
try and hide from Mama but it would only make it worse. Mama would
only be madder if she had to look for her. No, she'd already made her
peace with what was going to happen and she wasn't scared. In fact,
she didn't feel much of anything.

She heard the front door open then she heard it slam shut. Hard. Donna
flinched involuntarily. Mama got mad if Donna slammed the door but it
seemed to be okay if she did it herself.

Then she heard Mama scream. "DONNATELLA KATHERINE MOSS!" The blinding
fury was naked in her voice. Donna heard Mama pounding up the stairs
and part of her soul folded in on itself protectively. Mama rushed
into her room and grabbed her by the arm, yanking her into a sitting
position. "How could you?!" Mama yelled.  "How could you spread those
lies?! I told you no one would believe you and you still did it. Why
couldn't you for once do what I tell you?" Mama's hot, angry breath
rushed over her face.  "ANSWER ME!"

Donna decided she had nothing to lose at that point and she figured it
was the last chance she was ever going to have to say it. "Because
it's the truth," Donna said clearly and calmly.

Mama's face got redder and contorted with rage. Before Donna even saw
it, Mama's hand snaked out and slapped her. Hard. Pain flashed up
through the side of her face. Tears of pain and surprise flashed into
her eyes. Mama had never slapped her before.

"Oh, no you don't. Stop crying!  You're 13 years old, not a baby. You
brought this on yourself. Tears are not going to help you now." Mama
gripped her arm hard and pulled.  "Come on, it's time for your
punishment."

Donna didn't resist. There was no point anyway. It would just make
things harder. Mama dragged her out of her room and down the hall. At
the end of the hall, Mama yanked open a door and shoved her into the
linen closet. Donna stumbled as she went and fell into a heap on the
floor of the closet.

"You stay in there until I let you out and if I hear any noise coming
from this closet or see that light come on, I will make you sorry.
Now I suggest you take this opportunity to think about how wrong it is
to tell lies." With that, Mama slammed the door and Donna heard her
snap the padlock into place. She heard Mama's footsteps fade as she
walked down the hall. Then it was dark and quiet.

The floor under her was uncarpeted, bare tile and the cold was already
seeping through her jeans. Blindly feeling around on one of the
shelves, she pulled down a couple of towels to try and get more
comfortable, which was going to be hard.  The closet was too cramped
for her to even begin to stretch out. The best that she could do was
to curl up in ball on her side. It also had the side benefit that it
would help her stay warm anyway. There was no heating vent in the
closet and with the door closed it could get a little chilly. Her face
and her arm both ached.

Lying there, she thought about what had happened to her. If the summer
and the last few months had taught her anything it was that it never
paid to tell secrets. No matter how much it hurt to keep them inside,
it hurt worse when you told them and no one believed you or when you
were punished for telling the truth.

'Our special secret,' he had said. She put her hands over her ears as
if it would keep his voice out of her head. Rocking slowly in the
dark, she tried to soothe away the hot tears that had gathered in her
eyes.

She vowed then, that she would never again talk about or think about
what had happened over the summer, not to anyone. Not even herself.

**********

Josh jogged up the stairs to the second floor about 1 a.m.  He was
unable to keep a little bit of swagger out of his walk. They'd won the
vote.  He couldn't wait to tell Donna. Plus he had the added bonus of
feeling that he'd finally managed to do something right where Donna
was concerned. Maybe now she'd start getting better.

Since it was so late, he'd let himself in the building rather than
buzzing Donna to let him in. Punching the code into the security panel
at her front door, he pulled out his key and slid it into the lock.
Unlocking the door, he stepped inside. The apartment was quiet and he
took that to mean that Donna and Harley had gone to sleep and were in
the bedroom. Dropping his bag by the door and toeing off his shoes, he
relocked the door and reset the alarm. A warm, homey, delicious smell
wafted into his nostrils and reminded his stomach that he hadn't eaten
since the sandwich he'd made Ryan get him from the mess for lunch.
Loosening his tie, he walked into the kitchen, lifted the lid on the
crock pot and inhaled deeply. His stomach grumbled. He loved beef
stew. That was really nice of Donna to make it.  Speaking of Donna,
he'd check on her and then have a bowl.

Ambling from the kitchen to the bedroom he stopped in the doorway.
Donna was curled into a tight ball in the center of the bed, rocking
and, he could hear now, whimpering. Quickly crossing the room, he slid
onto the bed and laying his hand on her back, he began to rub it in
small circles.

"Donna?" he said softly. "Donna, wake up. You're having a nightmare.
You need to wake up now." The rocking and her whimpering began to
subside.

Donna began to surface from the dark of the nightmare, into the soft
light of the bedroom, the warmth of Josh's touch, and the sound of his
voice softly reassuring her. His presence pulled her back, gave her a
reason to wake up. Instinctively, she reached out to him and felt his
arms gather her close to him. The feeling of him, the scent of him and
the heat of him began to penetrate the darkness that seemed to consume
her.

Rather than making her sick like the others, this dream, the details
of which were already fading from her mind, left her feeling small,
brittle and empty. So very empty. Parts of her had been empty for
longer than she could remember. Her face was buried against Josh's
neck and she could feel the pulse in this throat beating steadily
under her cheek. God, she needed something to fill the emptiness, to
take away the pain for just a little while. Maybe if she had that
small refuge she could survive the nightmare her life had become.

Before she knew it, she'd moved her head slightly until his pulse was
beating under her lips. The life there reached out to her, called to
her and she pressed her lips against it, trying to draw on its
strength. She felt Josh stiffen but she didn't care. Her lips trailed
kisses along his neck and across his jaw. The she kissed his temple
and his cheek, until her lips hovered over his.

"Donna..." he whispered in bewildered protest. He had no idea what had
suddenly changed. Instead of a reply, her lips slowly descended on his
until she was kissing him. At first, his response was almost automatic
and he kissed her back. Alarm bells were going off in his head but he
couldn't stop himself from responding. Kissing her was heady and felt
more amazing than he'd imagined. Her body was warm and pliant against
his, her lips were firm but soft beneath his. His body began to
respond of its own accord.

Feeling him kiss her back made her continue. Part of her was screaming
to stop but her body seemed to have taken on a life of its own and she
couldn't keep herself from sliding her tongue into his mouth. Her
actions had little to do with sex and even less to do with love, and
more with trying to find something, anything to make her feel again.
About having a warm body help her remember what it felt like to be
loved, to feel anything but emptiness. Plus since the warm body was
Josh, she trusted him. Knowing what men always wanted next, she slid
her hands down to the front of his pants. Even through the material,
she could feel his growing erection.

Her touch, though good on one level, was like a bucket of cold water
being thrown over his head. God, what was he doing? Taking her wrist
gently, but firmly in his hand he pulled her hand away and jerked his
mouth free of hers.  "Donna, no. We can't," he said, a little
breathlessly. "Not like this."

She knew he was right and that she was putting him in a terrible
position, but she couldn't seem to stop. Everything in her seemed to
be set on autopilot, "Please, Josh. I need you," she said, her voice
quiet. "Just this once. I'm on the pill. No one has to know. I'm so
empty inside. I just need to remember what it's like to feel
something, even if it's for only a few minutes. It doesn't have to
mean anything beyond this moment," she said, softly.

Josh looked into her eyes. They were huge and blue, and so young that
for a flash, for an instant in a moment, he saw his daughter's eyes.
But where his daughter's had been bright, happy and laughing, Donna's
eyes were so broken and lost it nearly stopped his heart. While he saw
raw need there, he saw no desire, no love, no emotion beyond the need.
It further steeled his resolve to resist taking what she was offering.
"No, Donna," he said, as gently but as firmly as he could. "I know
you're in pain but this isn't right for either of us."

"Please, Josh. I'll do anything." She loathed herself for the note of
quiet begging that had entered her voice and still she couldn't stop.
Leaning into him again, she slid her other hand, the one he wasn't
restraining, over to caress his erection again. "I'll make it good for
you. I swear."

This time he didn't bother trying to remove her hand, he merely jumped
off the bed like she'd burned him. "NO! Donna, stop!" He said, very
firmly and definitely so he could hopefully get through to her. "We're
not having sex. We're never going to have sex. I know it and you know
it."

Part of Donna crumbled in on itself.

Maybe the crumbling was her self-respect. After all, she'd just thrown
herself at her best friend and begged him to have sex with her.

Maybe the crumbling was her self-worth. After all, he'd rejected said
proposition. She was too scarred, broken and undesirable to even get
her best friend to have sex with her.

Most likely, the crumbling was her seven-year friendship to Josh that
she'd just done her best to destroy.

Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and put her
hands in her lap, her shoulders slumping defeatedly. "I'm sorry," she
whispered, not raising her head. Shame at what she'd done, or tried to
do, washed over her.

Josh watched her sitting on the edge of the bed. The set of her
shoulders made him want to hold her but he knew that would probably
lead them back down the road he'd pulled them away from. But he needed
to tell her why he'd said what he said. Why, when everything in him
wanted to make love to her, he was stepping back. He leaned against
the wall and sighed. Why was nothing ever easy for them?

"Donna, look at me." When she didn't respond he said it with a bit
more force, "Donna, LOOK at me." She raised her head slowly until
their eyes met. If her eyes were broken before, they were shattered
now. He needed to make some connection to her, to make her understand.
 Walking to the bed, he knelt down before her and took her hands in
his, not caring that the hardwood floors would be hell on his knees.

"Donna, we're not going to have sex because when it happens for us,
and I believe it will, it will go way beyond sex. I've never wanted to
have sex with you, Donna. Never. But I have always wanted to make love
to you. But you're not ready for that.  WE'RE not ready for that. This
not about sex anyway. This is about you trying to find a way to dull
the pain." The next part shamed him, more than a little, to admit. "I
know that because I did the same thing with Amy last summer. And in
the end, it's no more healthy than if you'd used alcohol to do the
same thing."

The words fell before she could stop them. "If you did it with Amy,
then why not me?" she asked.

He held her gaze steadily. The words, 'Because I love you,' were on
the tip of his tongue but she wasn't ready for that either. "Because I
don't want to use you the way I used Amy. You mean too much to me. And
because I know, better than anyone, that you can only dull or stuff
the pain down for so long until it rears back and rips your throat
out. I sure as hell won't help you do that." He looked at her
intently, hoping his expression would tell her how much he cared and
that he wasn't kidding. "And you're going to promise me, or so help me
I will handcuff us together, that you won't let anyone else help you
like that either." When he got no response from her he squeezed her
hands gently. "Promise me, Donna."

She looked at him.  Not all the words he'd said had fully penetrated
her heart the way he'd hoped. Especially the part about how much he
cared. Her heart just wasn't listening. But she knew what he wanted
her to promise. No repeats of the Cliff Calley one night stand fiasco.
The way she felt right now, it wouldn't be a problem. She doubted
she'd ever try and go down that road, with anyone, again. Josh had
been the only one she would have trusted enough and that door was now
unavailable to her. "I promise."

"Good," he said, giving her hands firm, reassuring squeeze. Managing
to stand up he sat next to her on the edge of the bed. He suspected
her actions had stemmed from the nightmare he'd walked in on.  "Do you
want to tell me about your dream?" he asked gently.

She stared at the wall for a moment, trying to remember it. All of it
seemed so far away now, so indistinct. "It was about my mother," she
said, without looking at him.  "I don't remember much else except it
was a dark place." Josh remained quiet beside her. "I'm sorry, Josh. I
never...I don't know why," she wanted to look at him, wanted to see
the expression on his face to gauge his reaction to what she'd just
done, but she was scared at what she might find. "If you want to go
home, I understand." Without realizing it, she held her breath as she
waited for his answer.

"Donna," he said gently. When she didn't turn, he laid his fingers
lightly on her jaw and turned her face to him. "I said I was going to
stay and that's what I'm going to do. I'll be here for you for as long
as it takes." He looked at her squarely.  "Okay?"

She stared at him for a long moment and saw acceptance in his eyes.
She took a breath and nodded. "Okay." She paused.  "Josh? Could you
give me a minute? I just want to try and calm down a bit."

He relaxed a bit to see her a bit more in control. "Sure. How about I
take Harley for a quick walk and give you a few minutes of peace and
quiet?"

"Thanks," she replied.

"Oh, but I have a condition," he told her.

"What?" she asked with a frown.

He smiled, "That I get to have some of your beef stew when I get back."

She managed small smile of her own.  "You've got a deal."

**********

Donna walked into the kitchen. Josh and Harley had just left for their
late night walk and she was in search of some Advil. Although her
earlier nightmare hadn't produced the usual pounding headache, her
head still hurt a little. Opening the cabinet she pulled out a small,
thin juice glass and the bottle of Advil. Filling the glass with some
water, she popped two tablets in her mouth and swallowed them with the
water. She refilled the glass and stood there sipping the water.

She wanted to be happy that she apparently hadn't destroyed her
friendship with Josh and that he hadn't run screaming from her
apartment, but she couldn't  The way she acted had been inexcusable.

Like some kind of unwelcome horror movie, the night's events began to
roll through her head. Shame and pain and anger from some deep well,
seemed to bubble up in her and she gasped at the sheer magnitude of
it. She'd wanted to feel, right? Well, this would teach her to be
careful what she wished for, because she was damn well feeling now.
Too much. Like a great wave it all washed over her and pulled her
under like a rip current. There was no logic to it, and it quickly
spiraled out of control. She began to quickly pace and her mind seemed
to go off in forty directions at once.

A pity fuck. That's what she'd reduced herself to. She couldn't
believe she could do such a thing. Could she be more pathetic if she
tried? How he must pity her. Pathetic little Donna who was seven
shades of screwed up and wants to get laid but can't. Rage so black
she didn't understand it burned through her.

Blindly she slammed her fist down on the countertop. Sharp, tingling
needles of pain shot up her right arm. The pain was a blessed release
and it brought her up short. As surely as if it had been vacuumed out
of her, the rage dissipated, once again leaving behind the usual
emptiness in its place. It took her a moment to realize that her hand
was hurting more than she thought it should from hitting it against
the counter. She looked down and discovered it was still hurting
because she'd been holding the small juice glass in her hand when she
brought her fist down. Pieces of the glass were now scattered around
her hand on the counter.

Opening her fist she stared at her palm. In among the shards of glass
in her hand, two drops of blood blossomed. One on her index finger and
one on her middle finger, both in the fleshy area between the middle
knuckles and her palm. The parallel between Josh's hand injury and
hers were not lost on her. Although it wasn't the least bit funny,
part of her wanted to laugh at that.  At least this time she could
honestly say she'd cut hers on a glass and she didn't think they were
big enough or deep enough to need stitches. Shaking the glass off her
hand and pulling a small remaining piece from her finger, she stared
at the two small cuts and the blood that was continuing to slowly seep
from them. 'Ow,' she thought with surprise. 'My hand hurts. I can FEEL
my hand hurting.'

The injury to her hand and the pain it brought had not only driven the
rage out of her but she was feeling something, even if it was physical
pain, that was manageable and understandable.  'That's the problem
most days,' she thought.  Most of the time she felt nothing but when
she did it was overwhelming and consuming. It was either famine or an
occasionally gluttonous feast. This pain, the pain in her hand was
something she understood and wasn't pulled under by. If she couldn't
feel emotional pain, maybe physical pain was the next best
alternative. It was something anyway. At least it reminded her she was
alive.

As she watched, the blood drops got bigger and began to drip onto the
counter. Each drop seemed to tickle something in the back of her
brain. Then it happened. The fractured piece of a memory surfaced like
a siren in her mind. Maybe memory was even too strong a word.  It was
more like a skill, long forgotten, and suddenly rediscovered. 'Yes,
yes, of course,' she thought. How could she have forgotten? That was
the answer. It had been right there in front of her all this time. It
had helped before. She couldn't remember WHAT it had helped, but she
knew for sure it had. She'd just do it this once, she was sure that
was all she would need. No one would know. Even Josh wouldn't suspect.
She wouldn't have to lie to him because he would never think to ask.
She was good at keeping secrets. Even her own. Especially her own.

Turning, her eyes fell on the wooden block sitting on the counter
behind her. And all the knives it held. It had been a apartment
warming present from CJ. The knives were all very, very sharp. Walking
to the other counter she reached out her injured hand and pulled one
of the smaller, pointed knives from the block. The blood from the
glass cuts on her hand coated the handle but it wouldn't matter, she
would clean-up afterward. 'It WILL just be this once,' she told
herself again as she looked at the blade. But she had to hurry. Josh
would be back soon and she would need to be finished with clean-up
before he did.

With the knife in her hand, she walked to the bathroom. Using her
uninjured hand, she opened the door of the small linen cabinet and
pulled out two dark towels and the necessary first aid supplies. The
she closed the bathroom door and did what needed to be done.

**********

"Come on, mutt. We're not taking the elevator," Josh told Harley, who
was sitting in front of the elevator doors. "I know Donna may let you
get away with giving her the big, sad eyes routine but it's not going
to work with me. It's only one flight and if I gotta climb the stairs,
which I do because she always knows when I don't, you gotta climb the
stairs, too." He leaned down to Harley, "But I'll make you a deal. If
you don't give me any trouble about taking the stairs I'll give you a
dog treat when we get upstairs. Okay?" Harley's response was
immediate. He turned and started for the stairs.  "I knew you'd see it
my way," Josh said with a satisfied smirk.

They walked up to the apartment. Harley waited patiently, knowing his
treat was assured, as Josh uncoded the alarm and unlocked the door. As
they both went inside, he saw that Donna was standing in the kitchen
by the crock-pot. She'd put a terrycloth robe on over her flannel
pajamas.

"Hey, how are you doing?" He asked her with a small smile, as he dug a
treat out for Harley.

She looked up from the crock pot which she'd been stirring. "Better,
thanks. Oh, I cut my hand though." Holding up her hand she wiggled her
fingers.

He saw the band-aids on both her fingers. "Let me see." Gently, taking
her hand in his he looked at the bandages. "We'll have to have Mrs.
Bartlet take a look at it tomorrow."

"Yeah, I'll call her office when we get in and see if she's got a few
minutes," she told him.

He looked at her for a minute, "How did you do it?' he asked as
casually as he could.

"I was taking some Advil and the water glass slipped out of my hand
and broke.  When I was cleaning up the mess, a couple of the pieces
cut my hand." Okay, so that wasn't the absolute truth but it was close
enough in her mind that she could live with it.

He looked at her again. "So you cut your hand.....on a glass." It was
such a freaky coincidence to what he'd claimed had happened to his
hand that it made him stop and think.

"Yeah, that thought occurred to me too," she said. "I have the pieces
of the glass in the trash if you want to see it. I have to warn you
though, it's a little bloody. I know how you are when you see blood."

Well, her hand didn't look cut that bad, she was willing to have Mrs.
Bartlet look at it, she was already going to start therapy, and there
were obviously no broken windows in the apartment, so he really had no
reason to doubt her. "Okay."

"Oh, you're just in time," she said, pulling her hand from his and
ladling some of the stew into two bowls. "To try some of my homemade
stew." She handed him a steaming bowl and a spoon. "There's bread if
you want it too," she told him, referring to the French bread she'd
cut up and put in a basket on the counter.

Silent relief flooded through him.  She really did seem better. "Hmmm,
smells good."

They both settled themselves on the couch and watched CNN as they ate.
"Oh, I completely forgot to tell you.  The bill passed," he said it
with a proud grin.

She bumped her shoulder against his, "Oh, that's so great, Josh! I
knew you could do it. Congratulations."

"Thanks," he said. Her praise never failed to boost his ego. "You
know, I didn't do it alone. I had a LITTLE help. In fact, as I recall
you did your share."

"Thanks," she said, as she finished up her stew.

He put his bowl on the coffee table. "Dinner was great, Donna.  I love
beef stew."

"I know," she answered simply as she picked up their bowls and took
them into the kitchen.

He followed her and leaned up against the wall. "I thought I'd go
change so we could be some sleep." He paused. There was no way he
wasn't going to screw this up but he had to give it a try. "Where
would you like me to be tonight?" Well, that wasn't too bad. He just
wanted to give her a choice.

Keeping her injured hand out of the water, Donna rinsed their bowls
out. She wiped her hand on a dish towel. "Josh. Don't worry. I'm not
going to throw myself at you again," she sighed. "In fact, I'd
appreciate it if we never mentioned it again."

"Donna...."

"Please, Josh," she said.

Well, eventually when things settled between them, they'd probably be
talking about it, but for now he'd let it go. "Okay."

She watched him for a minute, "Since your back is going to bother you
if you sleep on the couch and I apparently have lost the inability to
sleep without having you nearby, I'm thinking it would be best if we
went back to sharing the bed. Platonically, of course."

"Works for me," he said. 'For now anyway,' he thought. Until she was
stronger and the time was right to see if she could return any of the
feelings he had for her.  "I'm going to go change." She nodded and
watched him disappear into the bedroom.

Later, as they laid there in bed, her under the covers, him above them
but with a light blanket thrown over him, Donna shifted slightly and
winced silently at the pain that flashed momentarily through her leg.
Her hand reached down and rubbed it gently. It would heal and then
things would be all right.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 23 - MATURE



"Here's Stanley phone number," Josh said, handing her the piece of
paper. "He's expecting you to call him in the next few minutes."

Josh told her that he had called Stanley again after he'd sent her
home early yesterday and had told him a little about her situation.
Stanley said he would be happy to help Donna find a new therapist, but
in order to find her the best one, he wanted to talk to her just a bit
first.

Donna took the paper from his hand, "But it's only 9 a.m. here, that
means it's 6 in California. Isn't it too early? Are you sure you
didn't get your time zones mixed up?" She'd be lying if she said she
wasn't looking for an excuse to put off making the call.

"Okay, first of all I can remember times zones as well as anyone," he
said with a smirk. "And second, he's in Chicago for a conference so
it's already 8 there."

"Oh, okay." 'So much for procrastinating,' she thought.

What she was thinking was clearly written on her face. "Donna," he
said, laying his hand on her shoulder and giving it a supporting
squeeze.  "It'll be okay. It's just Stanley and he only wants to talk
to you."

"I know...I'm just nervous I guess."

"I'd be surprised if you weren't.  It's a big step but I know you can
do it." He picked up his keys and took Harley's leash. "Now, the mutt
and I are going to go and give you some privacy. While we're out,
we'll dig up something for breakfast." He grinned. "Get it?  'Dig up'
something?"

Donna rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Josh, very funny, ha, ha."

Deciding that he was leaving her in the right frame of mind we walked
to the door with Harley in tow. "Okay. Well, we're going to go." At
the door, he stopped and turned back to her.  "Call him," he said
simply. Then he and Harley walked out.  A second later, she heard him
lock the dead bolt and reset the alarm.

Donna looked down at her cell phone and the paper in her hand. 'Well,
this is it," she thought. She let out a breath. "I can do this," she
said, softly. Quickly typing in the number before she could chicken
out, she pressed send. The line began to ring.

After two rings someone answered. "Stanley Keyworth."

"Hey, Stanley, it's Donna Moss."

"Hi, Donna. How are things this morning?" Stanley replied, in his
usual easygoing manner.

"Okay. Good.  They're good," she said, trying to sound upbeat.

"You sure?" He said, carefully but without accusation. "'Cause I make
it a policy to always let people revise their answers if they want
to."

Donna sighed. "Well, Stanley, things have been better, but for the
moment, they really are okay."

"Fair enough," he said. "Is Josh there with you?"

"He was. He and Harley went out to get some breakfast," she replied.

"Harley? I don't think Josh mentioned Harley. Who's Harley?"

Donna smiled slightly, "Harley is the chocolate lab that I adopted a
couple of months ago. Right after the......well, you know," she said,
her small smile fading.

If he was actually acting as her therapist, Stanley would have
commented or made a note to comment about the "you know," but under
the circumstances he let it go. "Dogs are good. I like dogs. I am kind
of curious how Josh feels about Harley. I know how he has a thing
about cats."

Donna slight smile returned, "They're thick as thieves. Oh, Josh acts
like it's a huge burden to have him around, but he's always taking him
for walks, he lets me bring him inside at work all the time, and feeds
him food off his own plate when he thinks I'm not looking. And you
should hear them argue over the couch."

"Argue?" Stanley asked, puzzled.

"Yeah. Well, when I say 'argue' I mean Josh argues and Harley growls
and barks. It sounds pretty much like the same thing. There's usually
some wrestling involved too."

Stanley chuckled, "You know, I can honestly say that I would pay money
to see that." It was obvious that Harley and Josh were both very dear
to her. He was glad she had both man and beast to depend on.

"There are a lot of Republicans who would too," Donna said, only half joking.

"I bet," Stanley said, then he quieted. "Well, I guess we better get started."

"Okay," Donna replied, softly.

"Before we dive in, I just want you to know that what you tell me will
be completely confidential. The only one I will share the information
with is the therapist you choose, unless you don't want me to, in
which case everything will stay between us." He wanted to give her a
choice and a sense of control.

"No, it's all right."

"Okay. Now Josh said your other therapist was a Doctor......" he
shuffled through a few notes. "A Dr. Todd?"

"Um, yes.  She was the therapist the rape crisis center at GW referred
me to," Donna explained.

"And you only went to see her once?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Can you tell me why you stopped seeing her?"

"I didn't like her," Donna said simply.

Stanley paused a minute to see if she'd say anything more but she
didn't.  "Do you think you could sort of elaborate on that?" he
prompted.

Donna swallowed, "She didn't like Harley. See, I like to take him with
me as much as possible. He's a big dog and he needs the exercise. He's
really well behaved and I'm not just saying that.  You can even ask
Josh." She paused then the rest began tumbling out. "But she kept
calling him 'my animal' and looking at him like he was contaminating
her office. Then she told me not to bring him to my sessions because
he might be a distraction, even though when she told me that, he was
sound asleep on the floor. Then she said to be careful about being too
attached to him because it could get in the way of my recovery and
possibly be at the expense of my relationship with others. I mean she
made me feel like it was a bad thing to like my own dog."

Although he liked to think that all therapists had a valid point of
view and could approach a patient from different perspectives, all of
which were valid, Dr. Todd dropped a couple of notches in his
estimation. Dogs, and pets in general, were often enormously helpful
in treating victims of emotional and psychological trauma. They were
non-judgmental and gave unconditional love. Both of which were
extremely beneficial to the healing process.  And, given the fact that
Donna had brought Harley with her, it should have been obvious to Dr.
Todd that Donna would have been sensitive to any comments about him.

"Well, I can see why you wouldn't appreciate her comments," Stanley
said. "So is it safe to assume you'd like to keep bringing Harley with
you to your sessions?"

"Yes," she answered. "Unless, well, I mean.....she wasn't right, was
she, Stanley?"

"No, Donna. Although I don't usually like to say anything against
another therapist's methods, I don't think it's a bad thing to take
him with you or to be attached to him. I only asked if you wanted to
keep bringing him because I want to be sure that a therapist I
recommend doesn't have allergies or the same point of view about
dogs."

Donna felt a little relieved and she let out a breath she didn't know
she was holding. "Oh, okay."

"So what else didn't you like about her?"

"She seemed like she had me all figured out before I even stepped into
her office. And...and...she called me a liar," she said.

"Were you lying to her?"

"Well, a little, BUT I wasn't lying about what she said I was lying about."

Stanley had to smile slightly at her statement, it sounded just like
something Josh might say. He wondered for a moment if she'd learned it
from him or he'd learned it from her.

Donna went on, "Plus I only lied to her after I figured I wasn't
coming back to see her so it didn't matter what I told her."

That was a valid point. "What did she say you were lying about?"

"Remembering the attack," she told him. "She said I was repressing the
memories and that I was lying to her and to myself because the
memories were too painful."

Strike two for Dr. Todd. That was really big leap for a therapist to
make during a first  appointment. "Did she know about your head
injury?"

Donna got up and started to pace. "I told her but she said that while
it was true that head injuries could cause permanent amnesia, she was
sure that wasn't the case with me."

'Well,' he thought. 'Dr. Todd must have gotten quite a workout with
all the conclusions she's been jumping to.' "Donna, you said you were
lying to her but not about the things she said you were lying about."
He couldn't quite believe he'd gotten that whole sentence out,
apparently Josh and Donna's unusual speech pattern was contagious. "So
what were you lying about?"

"They were more lies of omission because I knew that I wouldn't be
going back to her. I just left a bunch of things out," she told him.

"Such as?"

"Well, she asked me if I'd had any trouble sleeping and I said not
really," she told him.

"But you have been having trouble sleeping?" he finished for her.

Donna didn't answer right away. "Yes," she said, sitting back down on the couch.

"What kind of trouble?"

"It's been a cross between insomnia and nightmares," she told him
softly. "Mostly nightmares."

"Okay. Is there anything else you want to tell me about her or your session?"

"She made me feel like a bug under a microscope."

"In all fairness Donna, therapy can make you feel that way, no matter
who your therapist is," Stanley pointed out.

"You haven't," she said honestly.

"Well, I'm glad. But technically I'm not your therapist and I think
under the circumstances you'd do better with a female therapist
anyway."

"I suppose," Donna replied. Her voice was quiet and tired when she
spoke next. "She reminded me of my mother. She made me feel small and
stupid."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that Dr. Todd was not the therapist for you."

If Stanley had been her therapist he would have jumped all over the
comment about her mother, but he merely made a note of it.  He was
definitely going to have to have someone who was top notch work with
Donna. He was already getting the impression that there were much
deeper issues at work here than just the attack.

"Okay, Donna.  I think I know just the person you should see. She's
even based in Bethesda, near the Naval Hospital. Her name is Barbara
Abbott. I think you'll like her. She's actually an M.D. who went back
to school and got her Ph.D. in psychology. As I recall, she loves
dogs, she's smart and very nice. Just don't call her 'Barbie,' she
hates that."

Donna almost smiled at that, "I think I can manage that. What does she
like to be called? Dr. Abbott?"

"Oh, no.  I think she hates that almost as much as 'Barbie' unless
she's in a formal or academic setting. You can ask her when you see
her to be sure but I think she likes just plain old 'Barbara.'"

'Well, if nothing else, Barbara sounds nice,' Donna thought. She
trusted Stanley's judgment. "Okay. Do you have her office number?"

"Yeah, here it is," he said, reading off the number. "But she's going
to out of the office until Monday. She's actually here in Chicago
attending the same conference I am.  I'll pass on your information to
her and tell her to expect your call on Monday.  I think her office
hours are 8 to 5 but the number I gave you is her cell number and you
should be able to reach her there any time."

"All right," Donna said. "I'll call her on Monday."

"If you have any problems or for some reason, things don't work out
with Barbara, let me know and we can find you someone else.  But I
think you'll like her."

"Thanks, Stanley.  I really appreciate your help."

"No problem, Donna. You take care now and see that Josh stays out of trouble."

"I will." She hung up the phone just as Josh and Harley were coming in the door.

"Hey," he said, releasing Harley from his leash. Harley ran over and
nudged her hand to be petted, which she obliged him. "How did it go?"

"Good," she said, stroking Harley's head. "We talked a little and he
gave the name of a therapist in Bethesda. Her name is Dr. Barbara
Abbott.  I'm supposed to call her Monday."

He frowned a bit, "Why not today?"

"Because she's at the same conference that Stanley is and won't be
back in her office until Monday." Patting Harley on the behind, Donna
watched as he trotted off for a drink of water. After talking to
Stanley, she was glad to know that at least her affection for Harley
wasn't going to be her undoing.

"Oh," he replied. Then he smiled, holding his present for her behind
his back. "So for being brave and calling Stanley, I brought you
something special for breakfast. You want to guess what it is?"

Donna took a deep breath, the smell that tickled her nostrils was
unmistakable. "Is it something from Bistro Francais?"

Surprise rippled across his face. "How'd you know?"

"Because you know that beignets from Bistro Francais is my favorite
breakfast in the world and because I could smell them almost as soon
as you came in the door," she replied.

He held out the white bakery bag. "Ah, I made it too easy for you.
Come on, let's eat. Then we have to get to work."  He smiled at her.
"I'll get the coffee if you get the towels."

"Deal," she said with a smile twitching at her lips. Maybe things were
going to be okay after all.

**********

"I rescheduled your meeting with Congressman Goyle.  It's now at 1.
You should have plenty of time to get there after this meeting," Donna
said to Josh Friday morning as they walked through the bullpen on
their way to the Oval Office.  Josh had a meeting with the President
and Leo and Donna was taking a file to Debbie.

"Okay, could you also call and confirm my breakfast meeting with
Senator McCutchen on Monday?"

"Yes," she said, jotting down a note about it on her pad.

"Oh, and it's going to be a late night tonight, why don't you plan on
ordering up some dinner for us. How about Chinese?" To try and help
her gain back some of the weight she'd lost, he was trying to eat with
her as much as possible.

"Sounds good; I'll take care of it."

"Be sure you order enough for CJ and Toby too. Just get a variety like
we always do," he told her as they walked from the bullpen through the
northwest lobby. "Oh, and once things quiet down, you can bring Harley
inside if you want."

"Great, thanks," she said, smiling a little when she thought back to
her remarks to Stanley about Josh's 'non-affection' for Harley.  They
walked into the Oval's outer office. Debbie was at her desk on the
phone. Josh gave Donna a small smile and then walked into the Oval
through the open door near Debbie's desk. Donna stood for a moment,
waiting for Debbie to finish her call with what sounded like the
office of a visiting head of state.

Debbie put her hand over the receiver, "Oh, Sydney, take that file
right in.  The President wanted it as soon as possible," Debbie said,
going back to her call.

Donna nodded at Debbie and she walked into the Oval Office.  Leo, the
President and Josh were just walking in from the portico outside.

"I thought they wouldn't let you smoke in the office, sir," Leo said,
just a hint of teasing in his voice.

Jed took a drag on the cigarette he was holding and waved the last of
it in Leo's direction, "What are you? Smokey the Bear?  I'm the leader
of the free world and I can take the last two drags on my cigarette
inside my office if I want to." He paused, then grumbled
good-naturedly, "Besides, I promised them I wouldn't burn holes in
anything." He aimed a look at Josh, "And I don't want to hear anything
out of you."

Josh smirked just enough to not get himself in trouble, "Wouldn't
dream of it, sir."

Leo noticed Donna first, "Hey, Sydney," he said.

The President was next.  "Why, Sydney, it's good to see you, you're
looking well. Play any gin lately?" he said with smirk.

"I've given up gin, Sir. I was told that if I didn't someone would
have me investigated for racketeering."

He glanced at Josh and Leo with a smirk. "Now who do you suppose would
do such a thing?" Looking back at Donna, he grinned.  "Is that the
file I've been waiting for?"

"Yes, Mr. President.  Debbie said I should bring it right in," Donna
replied, holding it out to him.

The President took a long, last drag on his cigarette and then crushed
it out in the ashtray on the table next to him. "Yes, thank you," he
said, taking the file from her. The three most powerful men in America
opened the file and began speaking to each other.

Donna nodded and turned to leave.  The lingering smell of the
President's cigarette suddenly filled her nostrils. Her feet carried
her three more steps but no farther.  She turned back to stare at the
ashtray and the crushed out cigarette . She couldn't look away from
it.  Something primal, deep down in her brain, not hardly even enough
to be a memory, began to stir.  She stood, transfixed. Pain, searing
pain, swept through her hip. She didn't even realize it when her hand
moved automatically to press the spot through the fabric of her skirt.
 In her mind, a new layer was added to the smell of the President's
cigarette.  The smell of burning flesh.  Oh, God.

"Josh, tell me, what you plan to do about Senator.....Sydney? What
there something else?" the President asked. Josh and Leo had their
backs to Donna so they didn't know that she was still in the room.
Only the President had been facing in her direction.  At the
President's words, Leo and Josh turned toward her.

As soon as Josh saw her, he knew something was horribly wrong. Her
face had no color and held an expression of muted horror.  "Donna?" he
asked quietly, not wanting to startle her.

All at once Donna's body simply shut down, her eyes rolling back into
her head. "Donna!" Josh said, not caring if someone heard him call her
by her real name. With Josh in the lead, all three men jumped toward
her but weren't quite quick enough to catch her before she collapsed
to the carpet.  "Donna!" Josh said, kneeling beside her. Her wig had
pulled free and was sitting slightly askew on her head.

"Debbie!" the President yelled.  "Get Abbey over here right now!"
Debbie who'd seen most of what had happened as the door near her desk
had been open, didn't need to be told twice. She picked up the
receiver and started dialing.

"Josh, let's get her on the couch," Leo suggested. Josh nodded and
together they lifted her up and  laid her on the couch, as the
President closed the door.

"Has she been ill, Josh?" the President was asking.

Josh couldn't hear much over the roaring sound in his ears as he
settled on the edge of the couch and watched her.  She was pale and
still and hadn't moved since they'd laid her down. Her wig had fallen
off when they'd picked her up and with the all of the other parts of
her disguise still in place, it only added to the surrealness of the
moment.

"Josh?" the President asked, touching him on the shoulder.  It seemed
to jolt him awake, "Son, as she been ill?"

"No," he replied.  "Not that I know of.  She's been having some
trouble sleeping but nothing else that I know of."

"Mr. President," Debbie said, stepping inside.  "Mrs. Bartlet is
coming right over. She was in her office and should be here in a
minute. Is there anything else I can do?"

"Just keep out everyone but my wife. I'll let you know if we need
anything else. Thank you."

Debbie nodded and went back out to her desk, being sure to close the
door behind her.

Josh took her hand. It felt cool in his and he laid his other hand on
her shoulder. "Donna?" he said helplessly as he gently tried to shake
her shoulder to wake her. It didn't work and she remained still.

Just then, Abbey came in, carrying the spare medical bag she kept in
her office. "What happened?" she asked, rushing to Donna's side.  Josh
reluctantly let go of Donna's hand and got up to give Abbey better
access.

"I don't know," Josh told her. "One minute she was fine and talking
normally, she handed the President a file, turned to leave but she
stopped and had the most horrified look on her face. Then she just
collapsed."

Abbey took Donna's vital signs. "Well, her pulse and blood pressure
are a little high but if she was frightened then that would make
sense." Looking at Donna a bit more closely, she frowned and turned to
Josh. "Josh, she's lost weight. A lot of weight. Do you know why?"

"No, except that she hasn't been eating very much," he replied. "I've
been trying to work on that the last few days."

"Has she complained about feeling badly yesterday or this morning?"

"No. She had a nightmare last night but that was it," he told her.
That got a raised eyebrow from Leo, a questioning look from The
President and a carefully neutral and professional look from Abbey.
"I, um, stayed with her last two nights. But nothing happened," he
explained. "She's been having a little trouble adjusting since the
attack. I had her talk to Stanley a bit and he's in process of setting
her up with a therapist."

"Well, I think she just fainted." Abbey nodded and reached into her
bag.  She pulled out a small capsule and waved it under Donna's nose.

Donna began to stir, her hand automatically coming up to her face to
try and block out the terrible odor of the smelling salts. Her eyes
slowly opened. "What?" she said. Disoriented, she tried to sit up.

"No, no. Lie back a minute," Abbey told her. "Do you know where you are?"

The nausea hit Donna then, "I'm going to be sick."

Abbey helped her sit up as Josh snatched up a small trash can and held
it under her head. Abbey held Donna's hair back as she was violently
ill. The President walked over to his credenza and poured her a glass
of water. When she was done vomiting up the muffin and coffee she'd
had for breakfast that morning, he set the glass and a box of tissues
on the glass coffee table in front of her. Abbey helped her wipe her
face and take a couple of sips of water.  "Now lie back," Abbey told
her.

Donna was too tired and miserable at the moment to be mortified at
what had just happened, so she laid back on the couch as Abbey changed
the band-aids on the cuts on Donna's hand to make sure they weren't
infected, which they weren't, and rechecked her vital signs. The three
men stood by helplessly.

"Do you remember what happened, Donna?" Abbey asked as she took her pulse.

Donna was still breathing a bit hard from the exertion of being sick.
"I...." she started, then stopped as she tried to piece things
together. "I was talking to the President about playing gin and I
handed him the file he was waiting for and I started to leave and
then...." she trailed off. The smoke. Her hip began to sting again and
she gripped Abbey's arm tightly.

"And then...." Abbey said calmly, trying to keep Donna from panicking anymore.

"I smelled smoke. I remember looking at the cigarette the President
had just put out in the ashtray." She pointed at the ashtray at the
far end of the couch. "Then my hip started hurting and the next thing
I remember I.....I woke up on the couch and got sick."

Abbey glared at Jed and he looked extraordinarily guilty. Then she
looked back at Donna.  "Well, I think you just fainted. The smoke
probably reminded you of the burn on your hip. Josh said you haven't
been eating very much, have you had a lot of nausea and vomiting?"

Donna looked at Abbey and then to Josh, who stood there frowning. She
hadn't told him about the vomiting after the nightmares or after she
found out about each of the victims. "Not a lot, but some," she said.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Josh run his hand over his face.

Abbey sensed that Donna was feeling a bit overwhelmed.  "Okay. I think
you're going to be fine. Like I said, I think you just fainted.  But I
want you to take the rest of the day off and get some rest and eat
something." When Donna started to protest, Abbey held up her hand.
"Doctor's orders." She turned to Josh. "Josh, did you drive in today?"

He looked from Donna to Abbey. "Um, yes." He couldn't believe he
hadn't known about the vomiting.

"Why don't you go get Harley and bring the car around and take Donna home."

"I can walk," Donna said.  "It might do me good."

"No, I'll get the car. I don't want you trying to walk home." Josh
said gently, trying not to let his frustration and worry bubble over.
He walked up next to the couch and laid his hand on her shoulder to
let her know he wasn't mad. "I'll only be a few minutes."

"Josh, call Debbie when you've got the car up and I'll have the agents
clear you a path," the President said.

"Yes, sir." Without another word he walked out the portico door and
headed toward the parking lot.

"Gentlemen, could you wait in Leo's office for a just a bit?  I'd like
to talk to Donna alone for a minute."

"Um, sure," Jed replied. He and Leo escaped, closing the door behind them.

Abbey turned back to Donna, "Well, how are you feeling? Any better?"

"Yes," Donna replied, sitting up slowly. "I'm sorry to cause so much trouble."

"Oh, now...you're no trouble at all." Donna looked at her skeptically.
"Okay, so you're a little trouble but you didn't do it on purpose and
we don't mind." She paused. "Donna, with all the vomiting, have you
considered the fact that you could be pregnant?"

That thought had never entered her mind. "I don't see how I could be.
I was on the pill when the attack happened. And I haven't been
vomiting on a regular basis. Usually just when I have a nightmare. I
think it's more stress induced than anything else."

"Well, even the pill is not 100% effective. Did your doctor take any
blood or do a pregnancy test at your follow-up appointment?" At
Donna's vaguely guilty look, Abbey sighed. "You didn't arrange for a
follow-up appointment with your own physician like you were supposed
to, did you?"

"No," Donna replied.

"Why not?" Abbey asked gently, sensing the other woman slight distress.

"I just...I couldn't.  I just want to forget it happened and.....I
have a male OB/GYN. The idea was just too weird for me."

"Yeah, I can see that," Abbey told her. "You know, I have all the
respect in the world for other doctors, but I've always thought that a
male gynecologist is a little like a mechanic who's never owned or
driven a car. They may know all the parts under the hood but they just
don't have quite the same appreciation for how the thing drives."
Donna smiled a little at that. Abbey didn't want to push Donna into
something she wasn't emotionally ready for. "I'll tell you what, why
don't we let the exam go for right now.  I know that for your HIV and
Hepatitis you'll need to have your blood tested again somewhere around
the 6 month mark after the attack. Why don't we do it then? I have a
woman OB/GYN and she's great. I'll see if her office can make you an
appointment for then."

"Would you come with me?" Donna asked her. At least she'd have about
three months to get used to the idea of going to the appointment.

"Sure. Of course, I will," Abbey replied with a smile. "As for the
pregnancy thing, from what you've told me, I doubt you're pregnant but
why don't you stop by the store and pick up a home pregnancy test and
take it over the weekend. That should be sufficient. Why don't you
come to my office on Monday and let me know what the results are?  Or
if you want you can call me this weekend and tell me. Whichever you'd
like."

"Okay. I can do that."

There was a knock on the door and Debbie stepped in, closing the door
behind her.  "Ma'am, Josh is waiting at the door with Harley and the
car and the agents have the hallway cleared."  She walked over to
where Donna's wig was still laying on the floor.  Picking it up, she
brought it back over to her. "I think you dropped something, Sydney,"
Debbie said, with a kind smile.

"Thanks, Debbie," Donna took the wig and put it back on. Without the
adhesive she normally used to secure it, it wouldn't stay on that long
but it would get her home.

"You ready to go?" Abbey asked her.

"Yeah," Donna said, moving to get up.

Abbey helped her up and waited a minute to make sure Donna was steady.
"Okay, let's go. Um, Debbie, could you please tell the President I'll
be right back and I need to speak with him for about 5 minutes?"

Debbie opened the door for them, "Of course, Mrs. Bartlet."

"You're not going to be too hard on him about the cigarette are you?"
Donna asked her as they slowly walked into the outer office. "There
was no way he could have known."

"Oh, no, it's not about that at all. It's about something else," she
lied.  When she got back she planned on having a little talk with her
jackass of a husband about smoking in general and smoking in front of
Donna specifically.

Smell was the sense most closely tied to memory and apparently at
least part of Donna remembered being burned by the cigarette.

**********

"How are you feeling?" Josh asked her as he drove her home.

"Better. A little tired, but okay." She paused.  "I'm sorry I didn't
tell you about getting sick. I just didn't want you to worry."

Josh sighed softly.  "Donna, I think we've established that I worry
about you anyway. That's what friends do. I'm pretty sure it's in the
'Friendship Credo.' Besides, you can't tell me that you don't worry
about me. From the way you always fuss about what I eat and if I'm
getting enough exercise or enough sleep or I go to my doctor's
appointments or if I'm working too hard." He paused. "Or, you know, if
I'm putting my hand through windows, it's pretty obvious that you do.
Hell, you even worry about me worrying."

"The Friendship Credo?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

"What?  It's a thing," he said. "Like the Hippocratic Oath or the
Pledge of Allegiance."

They neared a red light. "Well, since we're both so big on worrying,
this won't matter....." she paused, waiting until he'd stopped at the
red light to finish.  "Mrs. Bartlet wants me to take a pregnancy test
this weekend."

"What?" he said with a frown.

She looked at him.  "You wanted me to be honest. She wants to make
sure that my nausea isn't from being pregnant, although even she
agreed that it was unlikely."

"Then why does she think you've been getting sick?" he asked quietly,
still trying process the idea, however remote, that she could be
pregnant as a result of the attack.

"I think, and she agrees, it's mostly stress related," she said as the
light turned green and the car started moving again. "Like I said in
the Oval I've been getting sick after having nightmares."

"But you didn't get sick the other night after you had a nightmare the
time I was there," he said.

Still feeling guilty about the way she acted that night, she was quiet
a minute and stared down at her hands which were resting in her lap.
"No," she said quietly. "That dream was a little different than the
others and I guess it went to the other end of the emotional spectrum.
Of course it could have had something to do with you being there. I
always feel better when you're there."

They'd arrived at her building and Josh pulled the car over to the
curb. He reached out and laid his hand over hers, "I'm glad." He
paused. "I thought the same thing when you were there for the
nightmares I had after Rosslyn," he added gently. "Come on, let's get
you inside."

She got out of the car and made it inside under her own steam but Josh
was there in case she stumbled.

"Josh?  What are you doing?" she asked him as he started to take off his coat.

He stopped, "Taking my coat off?"

"No. You need to go back to work. You've got a lot to finish. Mrs.
Bartlet gave me the day off, not you."

"But..." he tried.

"Come on, Josh, I mean it. You need to get back to finish your meeting
with Leo and the President," she told him.

"They can get along without me this once."

She folded her arms in determination. "And then you have your meeting
with Congressman Goyle about the highway bill at 1, remember?"

Josh shrugged. "He's a Republican; he can wait."

"No, Josh, he can't. It took a me two weeks to get you an appointment
with him, plus you know you need him if you're going to manhandle the
other Republicans into passing the bill."

"But..."

"Besides, if you're here then I'm going to be worrying about how much
trouble you're getting into by being here."

He looked at her, "And if I'm not here, I'll be worry about NOT being here."

Donna sighed and walked over to him. "Please, Josh," she said, laying
her hand on his arm. "I...I just need some time to myself. Harley's
here. Maybe I'll take him for a walk later. Clear my head. I could
pick up a pregnancy test at the drug store around the corner."

Josh watched her for a moment.  He remembered how well a little time
to herself had worked the other night after her nightmare. Maybe that
was what she needed. Of course, what he didn't stop to consider was
the fact that she'd basically had a lot of time alone for the last two
and a half months and it hadn't apparently done her a lot of good. "I
won't be over until late.  Leo has Toby and me working on that thing,
remember?"

"I know," she replied. "I'll get something to eat when Harley and I go
out for our walk."

"You promise me you'll eat something?"

"I promise."

"I'm going to call you and check," he told her.

"Okay, okay," she replied.  "Since you're going to be late, I'll wait
up for you."

The thought that she would made him feel inordinately happy, "Ah-kay,"
he said with a grin as he put his coat back on and walked to the door.
"Now you're sure you don't need anything?"

"I'm sure.  Now go or you won't get done with the President and Leo in
time to meet with Congressman Goyle."

"I'm going, I'm going," he said, putting up his hands in mock
surrender.  Pulling the door open he turned and looked at her.  "If
you need anything, ANYTHING, give me a call. Okay?"

"I will."

He looked at her a moment. Then, before he could think about it, he
leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "I'll be back."

"Do good, Josh," she told him with a small smile.

With a grin, he turned and took off down the hall. After closing and
locking the door and setting the alarm, Donna walked into the bedroom
to change. Pulling open the closet door, she switched on the light and
looked at the two sides of her closets.  One side for Sydney's things
and one for hers. Well, being Sydney hadn't helped her too much today,
had it?

She reached down and pulled off one of her shoes. God, she felt SO
stupid. She had a full blown nutty, in the fucking OVAL OFFICE! Once
again, the anger rose like a wave of lava to engulf her. "How could I
do that?!" she admonished herself out loud. She wasn't screaming.  She
didn't need to. The venom of her words did all the damage.

"Right there in front of Josh AND Leo AND the President!" She hurled
the shoe into the depths of the closet and jerked off the other one.
"I was only there for 5 minutes and I couldn't even hold it together
for that long! For 5 goddamn MINUTES!" She jerked her wig off and
threw it to the floor. "And then, just to really make myself look
pathetic, I threw up in office of the President of the United States!
Josh must have been SO embarrassed!"

The black rage at herself and her actions taunted her. She started
ripping her clothes off, including the body suit and the glasses and
the partial denture plate and throwing them to the floor, until she
stood, her breath heaving in great, choking, tearless sobs wearing
only her bra and panties. They were the only things she'd been wearing
that day that were actually HERS and not Sydney's.

It was then that she caught her reflection in the mirror above her
dresser and her eyes were somehow drawn her to her flat stomach. A
flat stomach, she failed to notice, that from vomiting and lack of
food, was a little too flat, her pelvic bones and ribs a bit too
prominent.  And now, although she couldn't imagine it, there was a
question as to whether or not she could be pregnant. She could have
that monster's child inside her. The final indignity, in a life grown
ripe with them.

Running to the bathroom, she was sick again. But this time, with her
stomach already empty, her body merely did its best to expel the anger
with dry heaving. And even then the pain and anger didn't stop.
Standing up shakily, her hand fisted over her stomach and she bent at
the waist. Emotional pain from every angle and every hidden place in
her soul raged through her like a fire burning out of control,
consuming everything in its path. Oh, God it hurt. So much pain with
no where to go. She had to do something or it would kill her.

The motion was almost automatic as she turned and walked quickly to
the kitchen, not noticing that Harley was on her heels. She'd told
herself that it would only be that once but that was before today.
Before the mother of all bad days. Snatching a knife out of the
butcher block she turned and stalked back the bathroom. She closed the
door in Harley's face.

Harley stood there for a moment, sensing something was wrong with his
human but not knowing what. He wished her human was still here.  He
would know what to do.  So Harley did the only thing he knew how and
he scratched at the door with his paw and whined. If he could just get
her attention, maybe she'd take him out for that walk like she'd told
her human she would or play ball with him. He'd do tricks for her.
Maybe that would make her happy again.

But his scratching went unanswered.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 24 - MATURE



The next morning, Josh stood in the kitchen making scrambled eggs
while a pot of coffee brewed. He heard the water turn off as Donna
finished her shower. Harley was sound asleep on the couch. It was
Saturday and he'd told Leo that he wasn't working this weekend so he
could spend some time with Donna. Plus he, Donna, CJ and Toby were all
having dinner with Sam tonight so Josh definitely didn't want to be
stuck at work. Besides, he'd had to work late as it was last night. He
didn't get to Donna's until almost midnight, where he'd found her on
the couch watching David Letterman. But he'd called to check on her a
couple of times throughout the afternoon and evening and she'd seemed
okay.

She'd ended up getting cheese pizza for dinner, the remnants of which
he'd seen in the fridge this morning while he was pulling out the eggs
for breakfast. She'd also gone to the drug store and gotten no less
than four pregnancy tests, telling him she wanted to be absolutely
sure of the results. The plan was for her to take them tomorrow
morning. Donna said she wanted to take them tomorrow because she
didn't want any bad news to wreck their dinner with the guys tonight.
Josh planned to be there with her all weekend, including when she got
the results.  Whatever happened, they'd face it together.

Donna emerged from the bathroom a few moments later, wearing jeans so
loose fitting they looked like they were about to slide off of her, a
baggy sweater, slippers on her feet and a towel wound around her hair.
"Hey," she said, walking across the room.

"Hey. How you feeling today?" he asked.

"Pretty good. Getting a decent night's sleep helps."

"Yeah, so I've heard.  I wouldn't know. I haven't had one since I
worked for Hoynes," he said, glancing at her.  She did look pretty
rested. He'd been happy to see that she'd slept all the way through
last night without incident.

She stopped next to him and glanced down at the frying pan
suspiciously. "You're cooking. Since when do you cook?"

"I can cook," he said, with a smile. "Besides, it's just scrambled
eggs. All you have to do is keep things moving." He watched her as she
dropped a few slices of bread into the toaster.

"Okay." She turned and started rummaging through the fridge for butter
and jam for the toast. "What time did Sam say the car was picking us
up?"

He watched as she bent over a bit to look in the fridge.  It worried
him that she seemed to be getting thinner by the day. He turned back
to the eggs. "About 6," he told her.

Sam had been very mysterious about where they were dining. He would
only say that they should all get dressed up and a car would be by to
pick them up. She told Donna that she was also welcome to bring
Harley, which of course, had pleased Donna to no end. Josh planned to
go back to his place about 4:30 and get dressed and come back to her
place so the car only had to make one stop for them.  He was also
planning on picking up some flowers on the way for her. Just as a
little something to brighten her day.

As for Donna, she was going to get to go to dinner as herself and not
as Sydney.  One thing Sam did tell them was that the place they were
going to was not a traditional restaurant and was very, very private.
Josh knew that Donna was chaffing a bit at having to drag Sydney
everywhere, so he'd encouraged her to go as herself.  That had put a
rare spark of excitement in her eyes. She seemed to be really looking
forward to going and was planning to wear a formal gown that she'd
never worn before. Over it she was going to wear a long cape that had
a wide hood that would shield her face while they were outside.

"Oh, 6, that's right," she commented as the golden bread popped up out
of the toaster. She piled it on a small plate.

"Hey, Donna? Would you mind turning on the TV?" he asked her as she
carried the toast and jam to the table.  "I'd like to watch the
morning news."

"No problem," she said. Pressing the power button she turned on the
TV, switched it to the local news and went back in the kitchen for
plates, utensils and napkins. The plates, she put down on the counter
next to Josh so he could divide up the eggs, while she took the rest
to the table to finish setting it.

Automatically, Josh turned off the fire and started splitting up the
eggs. They made breakfast like a fine tuned machine, he thought with a
little smirk.

"....Repeating our top story, police and FBI officials believe the DC
Strangler has claimed his latest victim," the dark haired reporter was
saying. "The body of Robin Marcus was found in her Adams Morgan
apartment early this morning."

The screen changed from the young reporter to a still photo of the
dead woman. A shot that had been taken when she was very much alive.
"According to authorities, Marcus, who was 24 and worked as a tour
guide at the Washington Monument, had been sexually assaulted and
strangled to death some time around midnight last night."

Josh's eyes snapped from the TV to Donna, she was standing by the
table, her eyes boring holes in the screen and gripping the silverware
in her hand so tightly, her knuckles were white.

The screen changed again. This time from the still photo to a live
shot outside the woman's apartment as the coroner brought the body
out, wrapped in a body bag and a dark blue blanket.

"Her body was discovered early this morning by her sister.  The two
women had made plans to have breakfast together.  We will bring you
more details on this breaking story as they become available."

"Donna..." he began, starting to come around the counter toward her.
She didn't respond in any way but the sound of silverware falling from
her hand to clatter on the floor, echoed loudly through the room.
Harley started at the sound and sat up on the couch. Josh moved toward
her slowly so as not to startle her. Except for her hand letting go of
the silverware she was silent and still. Then, suddenly, as if someone
had jabbed her with something, she clapped her hand over her mouth and
ran for the bathroom. It was so sudden and unexpected it took Josh a
second to register it. Then he tore after her.

By the time he made it to the bathroom she was retching helplessly
into the toilet. Because she hadn't actually eaten yet, there wasn't
much to bring up but her body was doing it best. Silently he gathered
her hair back and rubbed her back in small circles. "It's okay," he
said, softly. "I'm right here."

As her body began to relax and the spasms began to ease, she laid her
head bonelessly on her arm which was resting on the toilet seat. Josh
got a wet wash cloth and gently wiped her face and then got her some
water to rinse her mouth with. "Ready to get up?" he asked softly.
Looking up at him miserably, she just shook her head, so he sat down
behind her. "Then how about somewhere more comfortable to lean against
than the toilet?" This time she nodded and he put his arms around her
and pulled her against him. "Did this happen before? With all the
other victims I mean?" he asked, with only curiosity and not
accusation in his voice.

She nodded against his shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Josh. I
wasn't lying, I just didn't tell you," she said, her voice rough from
throwing up and distressed from having him find out something else she
hadn't told him.

"It's okay. I understand." And he did. What had happened to him the
Christmas he'd put his hand through the window in his apartment had
taught him a lot about how easy lies of omission could be.

"But I didn't mean to lie to you. I thought the vomiting would stop
but it won't," she said miserably. "Oh, God, Josh. What if I am
pregnant?  I don't think I could handle that after everything else."

"Shhh, Donna. It's all right.  Just relax," he said, seeing how upset
she was. "If you are then we'll deal with it. I'll be there with you,
no matter what you decide to do.  If you're not pregnant and getting
sick is stress related, I think seeing Barbara will help. But for now,
just hang onto me." He felt her arms go around him and he began to
rock her gently. "One thing Stanley told me that has always stuck in
my mind was that we get better.  No matter what, I know you'll get
better. You've just got to hang in there a little longer."

**********

Donna stood in the bedroom and ran her hands down over the front of
her dress. She wondered if Sam would recognize it. It was the same
dress she'd admired when they'd been at the secondhand dress shop in
Baltimore, searching for a formal dress to fit Sydney. She'd gone back
later, by herself, and bought it. The deep burgundy color of the
velvet was a great contrast to her skin and the style was alluring and
stylish without going overboard. Since it was usually hiding under
Sydney's wig, Donna left her hair down and loose. She'd curled it a
bit to give it a slight wave and for accessories, she added a simple
gold chain, gold hoop earrings and a gold bracelet. She looked at her
reflection for a moment.

Maybe Josh was right. She HAD lost a lot of weight. The long
shirt-waist dress, which had fit her perfectly when she'd bought it,
hung a bit loosely on her now. But she didn't care.  She was going out
to dinner as herself and not Sydney.  She could have been wearing a
potato sack and she still would have been happy. A little buzz of
excitement rolled through her. The thing on her right leg was feeling
a bit painful and tomorrow she had the thing with the pregnancy tests
to deal with, but tonight she wasn't going to let anything keep her
from enjoying herself.

She was even hungry. All she'd eaten all day was the scrambled eggs
and toast Josh had practically begged her to eat after the worst of
her nausea had passed. He'd even made her some hot tea to drink with
it in hopes of settling her stomach.

Looking down she smiled at her companion. "Well, Harley. What do you
think? Are we ready or are we ready?" Harley, with no sense of decorum
or occasion, of course, took that moment to scratch himself.  Still,
he looked adorable. Since all the other men were dressing up, she
didn't want Harley to be underdressed.  At the pet store she'd found a
'dog-edo.' Basically, it was an all-in-one doggie version of a tuxedo,
including a little tie, but without the pants.

Her buzzer sounded and she went to see if it was Josh.  Seeing him on
the small monitor, she buzzed him in.  She knew he could get in his
own, but she appreciated the fact that once in a while he let her
choose if she wanted to let him in or not.  Of course, she always
wanted to let him in, but still it was nice to be given the choice. A
few moments later, there was a knock at her door. Looking through the
peephole she checked again to see it was him and then, standing behind
it, with Harley at her side, she opened the door and she heard Josh
walk in.

When she closed the door however, she didn't see Josh.  His face was
obscured by a large bouquet of two dozen white roses. He peeked out
around them. "Hey," he said with a smile. "These are for you." He held
them out to her and got his first chance to get a good look at her.
Even with her being a little thin for the dress, she was beautiful.
"You look amazing as always, Donnatella."

Donna took the roses and smiled, probably one of the biggest, most
genuine smiles she'd had in the last couple months. "Thank you, Josh.
For the compliment and the roses. They're both lovely." She walked to
the kitchen to get out a vase for them.

"Hey, Harley looks cute," Josh said, remarking on Harley's outfit.

"Thanks.  He'll be the best dressed dog there," she replied.

Walking to the kitchen he watched as she filled the vase with water.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, her quietly.

Satisfied the vase had enough water, she turned off the tap and put
the vase on the counter. "Good," she said, honestly as she began to
put the roses in the vase. "I'm really looking forward to tonight."

He watched her as she filled the vase with flowers. She was the most
precious thing he'd ever had in his life.  Once, he thought politics
would be the ultimate accomplishment in his life.  Now, he saw it was
so much simpler than that.  Now, his ultimate accomplishment would be
to just make her happy. To see her smile. To hear her laugh. To make a
life with her. "Yeah, it should be a lot of fun. It's going to be
great to have Sam back in town."

"Yes, but I shudder to think about the trouble with two of you will
think of to get yourselves into," she replied.

He smirked at her. "But that's why I have you. To get me out of any
trouble I get into."

"Oh, is that why you keep me around? I was wondering," she said as she
slid the last rose into place.

He knew she'd said it as a joke but he didn't want to take it as one.
"Donna." He waited until she looked at him. "That's only one of about
a million reasons I'm thankful that you choose to stay around when I
know you've could have moved on to other things."

Donna looked at him for a moment. Then she pulled one of the roses
back out of the vase and cut it down so that just about all that was
left was the delicate bud. Walking over to him she slipped it into the
small button hole on his lapel. "I'm where I want to be," she said
simply. "Now give me your tie," she said, holding out her hand for it
since he wasn't already wearing it.  He pulled it out and handed it to
her. It was the real thing instead of a pre-tied one. "Tony Bennett
tonight, Josh?" she said with a bit of a smile as she began to tie it.

"Yeah, well, I know Toby and Sam always wear real ones and didn't want
to be outdone by either of them at the end of the night."

She looped the material around, "Ah, yes but Toby and Sam don't fill
out a tux like you do Josh."

He flushed at bit at the compliment and hoped she didn't notice.
Before he could answer, his cell phone rang. He read the display
before he answered. "Hey, CJ," he said as Donna gave a final tug and
his tie was tied.

"We're here," she told him.  "You guys ready?"

Josh walked to the window and looked down to the street.  CJ was
standing up through the open sun roof of the limo.  When she saw him
appear at the window she waved to him. "Yeah, we'll be right down.

**********

"Donna, could you please get this rubber ball thief off of me," Toby
begged as they rode in the limo on their way to dinner.

Donna started to call Harley but CJ beat her to it.  "Harley, mi amor,
come sit by me," she said, patting the empty seat next to her. "I'd
love to sit next to the best-dressed male in the car."  Harley moved
away from Toby and happily climbed up into the seat next to her. "Good
boy," she said, scratching him behind the ears.

"So did Sam tell either of you guys where we were eating?" Josh asked.

"No," CJ replied.  "He told us, just like he told you, to get dressed
up and the car would take us where we needed to go."

The car drove on through town until it stopped in front of a large,
historic office building. A number of businesses occupied the glass
store fronts on the bottom floor. It was late enough that the majority
of them were closed and dark. But the office they were stopped in
front of had what appeared to be flickering lights burning inside. You
couldn't actually see inside though because large cotton sheets were
hung in the window. There were no obvious markings on the glass
windows or the glass door to indicate what business existed in that
space.

The driver got out and opened their door. Everyone piled out. "You're
to go inside," the driver told them.  "I'll be back when you're
finished with the evening's festivities." With that, he got back in
the limo and drove away.  They all stood there, a little bewildered.

"Well, we can stand out on the street like a bunch of cattle or we can
do as the man said and go inside," Toby said, moving to the door.
Pulling it open, he held it for them.

"So let me get this straight, Toby," CJ began. "You decided that we
should all go inside but you're going to stand here and hold the door
so WE have to go in first. What if a band of thieves is waiting to
jump us?"

"Thus my reasoning for you going first,"  Toby replied. "I'll, of
course, be bringing up the rear."

"You're my hero, Toby," CJ said with a smirk as she walked through the
door and went inside.

"I'm a lover, not a fighter,"  Toby called after her as everyone filed past him.

"Hello?" CJ said tentatively.

"Back here, guys."

"Sam?" Josh called.

"Yeah, I'm in here."

The space was divided into four rooms. Two smaller rooms faced the
street through the large picture windows. Big, fat, white pillar
candles were spread out through the otherwise empty front  rooms. The
little group walked toward the back of the building and the two larger
rooms that were located there. The one on the right was empty and dark
but the one on the left was a sight to behold. The four of them
stopped in the doorway and gaped.

A long dining table and matching mahogany chairs were set up in the
middle of the room. It was completely set for an elegant full course
dinner. More white pillar candles were set around the room, bathing it
a warm, inviting glow. A long buffet table, complete with covered
silver chafing dishes and a small array of beverages, including red
and white wines, sparkling and bottled waters, a pitcher of
fresh-brewed iced tea and a large bucket of ice.

Sam stood at the end of the table, working the cork out of a bottle of
white wine. "Hi, guys. Come on in," he said, with a smile as he pulled
the cork free. "Welcome to my new offices."

"These are the offices that you put a deposit down on?" CJ asked as
they filed into the room. "This is an amazing location. You're right
near the White House and I love this building."

"Thanks, CJ. I'm hoping that the location will help with getting
clients. My White House experience should help too. This is going to
be my office. The front area with the big windows will be a reception
area. The other back room will be for filing and storage." He smiled,
proud that they liked his choice for a new office. "I wanted to have
the electricity on for tonight but they can't come out and turn it on
until tomorrow. Which is why we are eating by candlelight. My office
furniture from California doesn't get here until next week but I
managed to get the catering company to supply this dining room set for
tonight." He looked at them. "So what does everyone want to drink?" he
asked. They each picked white wine.

"I want to propose a toast," Josh said.  Everyone raised their
glasses, "To Sam returning to the fold."

"To friends and the future," Sam added. They all clinked glasses and took a sip.

"Donna, CJ, you both look gorgeous as always," Sam told them.

"Thanks, Sam. Do you recognize my dress?" Donna asked him.

Sam stood back and looked at her for a minute, then he smiled.  "The
Second Time Around."

"That's right."

"You went back and got it after all. It looks terrific on you," he
said. Leaning forward, he kissed her on the cheek. He managed to keep
the frown off his face at seeing how much weight she'd lost in the two
months he'd been gone.

"Thanks," she said with a small smile.

"Where'd you get your dress, CJ?" Sam asked her.  "I don't think I've
seen it before."

"No, it's new.  Okay, it's pretty new.  I've only worn it once," she
said, about the floor length black gown. "I wore it to an embassy
party a couple of months ago."

"Well, you look amazing."

"Thanks, Spanky," CJ replied.

"Sam, we're not going to have to listen to your diatribes on fashion
all night, are we?" Toby asked him.

"Do you find them annoying, Toby?"

"Yeah."

Sam smirked. "Well, then yes. Besides I'm practicing for the fashion
consultant/personal shopper gig that I'm going to go into if the law
practice fails." Everyone but Toby laughed at that. "And might I say
that Harley is going to go down in the history books as one of the
best dressed dogs ever. What a great outfit, Donna."

"Thanks. I found it at the pet shop. I thought since everyone was
dressing up, Harley should be no exception," she told him.

"Well, Harley will be happy to know that I've even arranged dinner for
him. I found a place in Georgetown that makes gourmet dog food," Sam
told her.

"Thanks for going to so much trouble, Sam," she said,

"No trouble at all. I want ALL my guests to enjoy themselves."

Later as they ate the wonderful catered dinner Sam had arranged, Donna
smiled and took a look around the table. It almost felt like old
times.  Sam was back. He and Toby were bantering. Josh's arm was
resting across the back of her chair as he chatted with CJ. There was
no Sydney to have to deal with. It was just a wonderful dinner with
everyone looking their best and it was one of the best evenings she
could ever remember.

**********

Sunlight was streaming in through the window when Donna woke late
Sunday morning. But she was feeling groggy, achy and more tired than
when she'd gone to bed the night before. Almost like she had a
hangover but she hadn't had more than 2 glasses of wine last night.
The thing on her right leg was steadily throbbing now and she had the
feeling that she would find the dressing caked with all manner of
unpleasant things. She'd have to be sure to put extra antibacterial
cream on it when she changed the bandage.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Josh said, coming out of the bathroom. He was
already dressed in jeans and a Harvard sweatshirt. "You finally
decided to wake up, huh?"

Donna laid there for a minute and looked at him sleepily. "I don't
feel very good, think I might be coming down with something," she told
him.

He frowned and walked over to the bed. Laying a hand on her forehead,
he felt for a temperature. "Well, you do feel a little warm," he said
with a deepening frown. "Are you feeling nauseous?"

"No, but I'm not especially hungry," she said.

"If I make you some tea and toast do you think you could choke it down?"

"I guess so," she replied.

"Well, then I decree this to be Donnatella stays in bed day," he said
with a grin.

"But I have to take the tests."

He sat down on the edge of the bed, "Yeah, I know. But that won't take
very long.  In fact all you really have to do is pee on a stick, well
for two of them anyway."

"How do you know?" she asked, with a raised eyebrow. "Are you the
pregnancy test expert now?"

"No, but I read the directions on each of the tests while you were
sleeping away the morning," he teased.  "Two of them have sticks you
pee on and two of them you pee in a cup and dip the stick in the cup.
Although you can do it anytime, they all say it's best to do it when
you pee for the first time in the morning."

She looked at him sleepily. "Okay, first of all, that fact that you
managed to read and remember the directions without running screaming
from the apartment is kind of freaking me out and second of all, we
may have to spread out the tests because I'm not sure I have that much
pee in me to do them all at once."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea to buy four tests," he said with a smirk.

"I just wanted to be sure," she half pouted.

"I know," he said, sobering. "Do you need to pee now?"

"Yeah, I might as well," she said, throwing back the covers. He
followed her as she shuffled to the bathroom.

"Now I laid them out for you. The first two you pee on the small end
and then you pee in the two cups and dip the other two in."

"You're way to into this process for a man, Josh," she managed.

"I have an inquiring mind, Donnatella." 'And it will be practice for
our kids,' he thought.

She sighed tiredly, "Okay, pee on the small end, then fill and dip.
Right. Got it. My life is full."

"I'll be right out...you know," he said pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

"Kay," she said as he walked into the living room and shut the door
behind him. Following what he said, she managed to get out enough pee
to take all four tests. Then she cleaned up and was about to change
the bandages on her legs when he knocked at the door.

"How you doing in there?" he asked through the door.

"I'm just cleaning up and brushing my teeth," she told him as she
turned on the water. Quickly, she changed the bandages. While the left
one was scabbed over and looked well on its way to healing, the right
one, just as she'd feared, did not look happy.  It was angry and red
and just a little swollen. The cut also went a little deeper than
she'd realized and it wouldn't stay closed. The gauze bandage was
stained with some blood and what looked like yellowish fluid. She'd
tried to be careful to keep it clean but it was most likely infected.
'Well,' she thought. 'With a little time it will get better.' She used
some hydrogen peroxide and some antibiotic cream on it and then
covered it with a fresh bandage. Then she took all the old bandages
and any left over bits and wrapped them in a large wad of toilet paper
and buried it in the bottom of the bathroom trash can. By the time she
opened the door she felt exhausted. "Okay, done.  Now what?" she asked
him as she leaned tiredly against the door jam.

"We wait 15 minutes and then look at the sticks," he told her looking
at his watch. "Depending on which test we're looking at we'll see a
colored dot, one or two lines, a plus/minus, or the tried and true,
yes/no." He looked at her and how exhausted she seemed.  "Why don't
you get back in bed while we wait?  You look like a strong breeze is
going to blow you over."

Sounded like a good idea to her. The two of them walked back to the
bed and he helped her climb back in. "Thanks," she said as he pulled
the covers up over her.

"I know just what you need." He walked over and picked Zane of the top
of the dresser where Donna had started putting him.  Josh took him
back and tucked the grey rabbit in the crook of her arm. "How about if
I make you that tea and cinnamon toast? I'll even serve it to you in
bed. Eating in bed is mandatory on Donnatella stays in bed day."

Donna looked at him for a minute.  "Could you just stay here with me
until we find out about the...you know?" she asked. She really didn't
want to be alone right then. "I'll eat something after."

"Sure," Josh said with a smile as he settled himself on the edge of
the bed next to her and picked up her hand in his. "Don't worry.
Whatever the tests show, Donna, you're not alone anymore. Promise me
you'll remember that."

She squeezed his hand, "I know, Josh. Thanks."

"Donna, can I can I ask you something?"

"Of course," she said, sleepily. "What is it?"

"Have you ever thought about having kids? I mean I know not under
these conditions but you know, having getting married, having a
family, that kind of thing?"

She thought back to the days when she'd thought about those things and
Josh automatically in the same sentence. It seemed like a lifetime
ago. "Yes, I've thought about those things. I figured I'd meet the
right guy, he'd do some serious wooing, and then we'd get married and
start a family. In that order."

Josh knew he was about to step on his own land mine but he couldn't
help it. "Have you met him yet? This right guy?"

Donna thought about how she'd felt about him before the attack and how
she felt now and she  still didn't know how to respond to that. "Well,
I guess the jury is still out on that," she said enigmatically then
tried to shift the focus a bit. "What about you, Josh? You ever think
about having some little Lymans running around?"

He looked at her. "Actually, I always thought having kids would be
great. Of course, we're back to the whole, 'finding the right person'
thing and given my dating track record that's quite a challenge." He
paused.  "But once I find that person I can easily see myself as a
dad."

"I always thought you'd make a good father," she said without thinking.

The comment made his heart clench and he took it as an extremely high
compliment. "Well, I know you'd make a great mother," he said, smiling
down at her gently. "After all, look at the practice you've gotten at
looking after me all these years." They were quiet for a few moments
and Josh glanced down at his watch. "Well, my crappy watch is telling
me that the tests should be ready. Shall we go and look?"

"Josh, could you go look? I know it's pretty cowardly of me but I'm just can't."

He squeezed her hand.  "It's not cowardly and of course, I'll go
look." He slid off the bed and walked toward the bathroom but stopped
at the foot of the bed and turned back to her. "Donna?"

"What?"

"Thanks for....you know, letting me be here to help you with this," he said.

"Well, like you keep telling me, that's what friends are for, right?"
He nodded and smiled, then turned and went into the bathroom.

Donna laid there in bed and said a quick, silent, little prayer. She'd
never been especially religious but now seemed to be as good a time to
start as any. 'Please let the tests be negative and let my leg get
better so know one will know what happened.'

Josh came shuffling back into the bedroom with the four sticks
arranged in his hands like playing cards. A smile creased his face,
"All four of them are negative. You're not pregnant."

Sitting up, Donna held her breath, "Really?  I mean really?  You're
not just saying that to make me feel better? I'm really not pregnant?"

He walked over to the bed and showed her the displays on the four
sticks. "According to these, you're really not pregnant. This one has
nothing which mean it's negative cause it would have a blue dot if it
was positive, this one has a minus sign which is negative, this one
has one line instead of two, which is negative, and this one says 'No'
which is, well, pretty self-explanatory." He looked at her with a big
grin.  "You're not pregnant, Donna."

"I'm not pregnant," she said, returning his grin. Her relief was palpable.

He put his arms around her to pull her close. "I know most people
don't say this when they find out they AREN'T pregnant," he said. "But
congratulations." He pulled back.  "Now, how about, to celebrate, I
make you that tea and cinnamon toast I promised?"

"Sounds great. Oh, be sure you save those test sticks for Mrs.
Bartlet; she'll want to see them," she told him as he left the room.
Lying back in bed, she thought for a minute.  Well, at least now they
knew that she was getting sick because she was crazy and not pregnant.

She didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

**********

Monday morning had come way too quickly, Donna thought as she laid in
bed late the next morning. And instead of feeling better, she felt
worse. Her fever was hanging on, her whole body ached and her leg was
throbbing and itching like mad. Her head felt like it was filled with
cotton. Josh had ordered her to stay home from work and promised to
stop by and check on her after his morning meeting with Senator
McCutchen. Actually, he wanted Ryan to reschedule the meeting so he
could stay there with her, but Donna told him she was just going to
sleep anyway and would be fine on her own.  It was just the flu, she'd
told him.

And the flu was just what she thought it was.  The flu coupled with
what she was sure was an infection in the cut on her leg. But now she
wasn't so sure. She was beginning to feel a bit dizzy, even when she
was lying down. And she was going between feeling hot and then having
chills.  All in all it was quite annoying. Oddly, the only thing she
didn't feel was nauseous.  She wasn't hungry but at least she wasn't
throwing up.

Although it seemed like a Herculean feat to her, she had to pee.
Throwing back the covers, she managed to sit up. The room tilted just
a bit, then settled. Working up the energy she slid off the bed and
started for the bathroom.

Harley, who was lying on his pillow at the foot of her bed looked up
as he heard her get up. He watched her as she slowly, unsteadily
crossed the room. His human didn't look very good and he could just
smell something strange coming from the top of her leg. It reminded
him of the smell his leg had when he'd gotten in a fight with another
dog, when he'd still been with his old human. His current human seemed
to be having trouble walking in a straight line and he wondered for a
moment if she playing some kind of new game he was unfamiliar with.
Just then she stopped and swayed just a bit. Taking a final step, she
pitched forward and fell to the floor with a thud. She didn't get up.

Jumping up off his pillow Harley ran over to her. Her eyes were closed
like she was asleep but Harley knew something was wrong. He licked her
face, trying to wake her up but she remained still. He looked up as he
heard the noise. It was music and it sounded like the one that the
little box that his human talked into made. The music was coming from
the bag that his human carried.  It was sitting on the coffee table.
He trotted over to the bag.  Maybe someone would hear him if he talked
into the little box and they would come and help. He started barking
but nothing happened. The music only continued to play for a few more
minutes and then stopped.

Frustrated, Harley turned to go back to his human when the ringing
started. This ringing was louder than the music and more annoying.  It
was coming from the bigger box on the table by the couch. His human
talked into that box sometimes too, just not very often.  In case it
would help, he started barking at that box too. Then the ringing
stopped. But a strange thing happened, a voice started coming from the
box. It was his human's voice. Harley looked back at his human, who
was still lying, still and quiet on the floor.  Confused, he looked
back at the box and started barking.

"You've reached (202) 845-7236; we can't answer your call right now,
but please leave your name, number and brief message at the beep and
we will return your call as soon as possible."  BEEP

Then the voice changed. "Hey, it's me."

Harley got excited and barked harder. It was his human's human. He
would help her. He would know what to do.

"...I just called to check on you. But I guess you're sleeping..."

Harley had to make him hear his barking. He began to paw frantically
at the box. But he found it was about as sturdy as those squirrels he
used to chase, when part of it tumbled off and fell to the floor by
his paws. The human's voice wasn't so loud then and sounded far away.
In case the box was still working Harley kept barking.

Luckily for Harley, and consequently Donna, what Harley had done was
to knock the cordless handset off the base which automatically
switched the phone on.

"...I left a message on your cell too." Josh was saying into his cell
phone as he walked back to the White House from the Hill. "So call me
when...." He heard Donna's phone click on and then was almost deafened
by the sound of Harley's barking. Josh's heart sped up.  Something was
wrong. "Harley!" he yelled.  "Harley? Where's Donna?!" The sound of
Harley's barking was his only response.  Hailing a cab, Josh rushed
over to her apartment to find out what was going on.

When he got there, he didn't even take the time to buzz her apartment.
 He just punched in the code and ran up the stairs. He pounded on her
door but the only response he got was more of Harley barking. Uncoding
the alarm and unlocking the door he burst into the room. Harley was
standing in the living room. The top of Donna's blonde head was just
visible through the bedroom doorway. She was lying face down on the
floor.  Josh ran over and knelt beside her. "Donna!? Donna!?" he
called, trying to wake her. She moaned slightly but didn't wake up.
He felt her forehead. She was burning up.

Jerking out his phone, he dialed 911. Giving them the address and the
details about the way she'd been feeling he hung up and then he made
two other phone calls.  One to Mrs. Bartlet so she could meet them at
the hospital and one to Sam so he could come and take Harley over to
the White House and then come to the hospital.

**********

Josh paced the almost empty emergency waiting room of GW. He'd been
able to ride in the ambulance with Donna. He'd had to ride up front
but he'd still been close by. She'd started to come around on the way
to the hospital. He'd seen her moving a bit through the pass between
the front cab and the back of the ambulance.

They'd taken her into the emergency room about a half hour ago and he
hadn't seen her since. Until just recently, he'd been busy filling out
the never-ending piles of forms, careful to list her name as Sydney
Collins and not Donnatella Moss.

"Josh?"

At the sound of his name, he looked up. Abbey was quickly walking
across the room toward him, her Secret Service detail in tow. "What
happened?" she asked him. "Elaine told me you called and said Donna
was going to the hospital," she said, referring to Elaine Lowell, her
current chief-of-staff.

"Well, she wasn't feeling well yesterday," he explained. "She was
running a slight fever and was really tired and achy."

"Any nausea or vomiting?"

"No, but she wasn't very hungry. I got her to eat two pieces of toast
and some tea and had her stay in bed all day yesterday. This morning I
was going to stay home with her but she said she was okay and that she
was going to sleep." He didn't know how to explain the thing with
Harley so he didn't try. "When I went by the apartment to check on
her, I found her passed out on the bedroom floor."

"Did she take a pregnancy test over the weekend like I suggested?" Abbey asked.

He managed to smile a bit at that. "Yeah, she took four in fact. They
all came out negative."

Abbey smiled, "Four, huh? Sounds like Donna." She laid her hand on his
arm.  "I'll see what I can find out." Then she disappeared into the
emergency room.

Josh paced for a while, tying not to let his mind create scenarios,
that would drive him insane before he actually knew any real facts.
It could be nothing after all. She probably just had the flu and was
dehydrated or something.  Yes, that had to be it.

"Josh?" Sam said as he entered the waiting room. "Any word yet?"

"No, Mrs. Bartlet went to see if she could find out anything. Did you
get Harley settled okay at the White House kennel?"

"Yeah, no problem," Sam replied.

Josh was quiet for a moment, "You know, the big mutt saved her life.
He managed to pull the phone of the hook.  I heard him barking and
knew something was wrong.  I swear, I'm going to see to it that he
gets steak for the rest of his life." Just then, Abbey came out from
the back emergency area. Her expression grave and a bit puzzled.
"What is it?" Josh asked her.

"Josh, Sam, why don't we talk over here for a minute." She led them to
a quite corner of the waiting area.

"What's going on?" Josh asked her, a heavy feeling deep in the pit of
his stomach. "What did you find out?"

Abbey looked at him for a moment and just decided to tell him, "Well,
she's suffering from cellulitis, a bacterial skin infection."

"But they can treat that, right?  If it's bacterial, then they can
treat it with antibiotics, right?" Josh wanted to be relieved but the
look on Mrs. Bartlet's face was not letting him.

"Yeah, they can treat the infection.  It's a pretty severe infection
but with a couple of days of intravenous antibiotics and then oral
ones after they release her, she should be fine."

Josh looked at Sam and then back at Abbey. "Why do I feel like there's
an enormous 'but' coming?"

"Josh, the site of her infection is a cut on her leg."

"A cut on her leg?  I don't remember her saying anything about a cut
on her leg," Josh replied, baffled.

"Do you remember the scars she has on her thighs? The ones she said
she got from running through a sliding glass door when she was young?"

The hairs on the back of Josh's neck began to prickle. "Yes. What about them?"

"The cut is in the same place on her right thigh.  They found one on
her left thigh as well but it pretty well scabbed over and wasn't
infected."

Josh stared at her for a minute. "How could she possibly get cuts on
her thighs? I know she hasn't gone through any glass doors recently."
His brain just wasn't absorbing what she was trying to say.

Abbey was quiet for a moment.  There was just no good way to do this.
"Josh, they think she cut herself. On purpose." She paused to let that
sink in. "They called in one of the therapists on staff in their
psychiatric department to evaluate her. The doctor, a Dr. Jan Todd,
decided that she should be held over for 72-hour psychiatric
observation. Dr. Todd is having her committed to the psychiatric
unit."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 25 - MATURE



Josh looked at Abbey. To say he was stunned was an understatement.
"But why...why would she cut herself?" he asked her.

"I don't know, Josh.  I'm a thoracic surgeon, not a psychiatrist.
They'll treat her infection while they have her under observation."

"Wait. Did you say Dr. Todd?" Josh asked her.

"Yes. Why?" Abbey asked.

"That was the name of Donna's first therapist. The one that Donna
didn't like. She said she was mean," Josh said with a frown.

"Well, I don't know about that. I was actually speaking with the with
the emergency doctor on call," she told him. "I also explained about
her going by the name of Sydney Collins temporarily and he agreed to
list that name on all her paperwork.

"Did you see her?" Josh asked.

"Just briefly. They were working on getting her wound cleaned and
stitched and her medication started. She was pretty out of it," Abbey
told him.

"Did they say when I could see her?"

Abbey looked at him.  "Josh, you don't understand. She's being
committed to the psychiatric unit. People under psychiatric evaluation
don't usually get to have visitors."

"Then I need to get her...uncommitted," Josh said, not knowing what
else to call it. "How do I do that?" he asked her desperately. There
was no way he was going to let Donna stay in this hell hole for three
days without visitors.

"I'm afraid you can't do that." A voice said from behind him. The
three of the them turned to face who was speaking.

Josh's first thought about the speaker was she looked....hard. "Dr.
Todd?" he guessed.

"Yes. That's right," she said, blinking slightly from behind her
glasses. She was a little surprised that this man knew who she was.
"And you are?"

He could immediately see why Donna didn't like this woman. Her look
when she asked who he was a perfect imitation of someone who was saw
something unpleasant on their shoe and was getting ready to scrape it
off. "Joshua Lyman. Why are you committing Donna?"

Dr. Todd looked at him for a moment, "I don't believe I answer to you,
Mr. Lyman. I came out here to speak to Dr. Bartlet. I was told she'd
made some inquires about Miss Moss' condition." Dismissing Josh, Dr.
Todd shifted her gaze to Abbey. "Dr. Bartlet."

Abbey felt, rather than saw Josh and Sam bristle on each side of her.
"Dr. Todd," Abbey said. Her voice was cool as she inconspicuously
wrapped her hand around Josh's wrist to keep him calm. She recognized
Dr. Todd's attitude right away. She occasionally saw it in the medical
profession. Whether it be a physician or a nurse or any other kind of
medical professional that worked with patients, it didn't matter. They
all had one thing in common. An attitude of benign condescension. When
the doctor or other medical professional stops being a human being
like everyone else, stops remembering there is a person behind the
patient, and assumes that they are a step above and infallible.

Well, this woman had no idea who she was dealing with and Abbey
figured that between her, Josh, Sam, and the other forces that the two
of them were sure to gather, this little psychiatrist was going to get
her spleen handed to her on a plate. Abbey knew then that getting
Donna 'uncommitted,' as Josh had put it, wouldn't be a problem, and
they'd most likely have some fun doing it.  "Since you wouldn't answer
when Josh asked it, I'll ask it. Why are you committing, Donna?" Again
she kept her voice calm and professional.

"I would prefer to consult with you in private about it," Dr. Todd said.

"It won't matter, Dr. Todd. I'll tell them everything you tell me
anyway, so it will save time if you just told me now."

Dr. Todd adjusted her glasses with an air of barely suppressed
annoyance, "Very well. It is my opinion that Miss Moss is a danger to
herself. She has obviously been engaging in erratic and
self-destructive behaviors and she refuses any attempts at
psychoanalytic therapy. Then there is the matter of her Sydney Collins
persona. It concerns me that she might be developing a dissociative
identity disorder. Not to mention the fact that the cutting may have
even been a botched or failed suicide attempt. All those things leave
me no other choice to commit her for an evaluation period of 72 hours
minimum."

Josh wouldn't be silenced any longer. This woman was the psychiatric
equivalent of Mary Marsh.  "A suicide attempt? Dissociative identity
disorder?" he said, trying to keep his voice level and almost
succeeding. "That's what you think this is? That she has split
personalities and was trying to kill herself? You couldn't be more
wrong. I've been staying with Donna for the last few days and before
that I saw her everyday at work. She was NOT suicidal!" he insisted.
"And as for Sydney Collins, she was created by all of us to protect
Donna from the monster that almost killed her. Where exactly DID you
get your degree, Doctor?"

"I'll have you know that I received my degree from Johns Hopkins," she
snapped at Josh.

"And is was in psychology, right?" Josh asked her.

This time Dr. Todd ignored his comment, but she was clearly a bit
flustered now. "Dr. Bartlet, it really would be better if I could
confer with you in private without all these interruptions."

Abbey wanted to get her pound of flesh from the good Dr. Todd as much
as Josh did, but she needed her to be cooperative for the moment. She
gave Josh's wrist a hard squeeze to let him know she knew what she was
doing. "You'll have to excuse Josh, Dr. Todd.  He's very fond of
Donna. They're very good friends." She thought about saying that Josh
was also Donna's boss but Abbey suspected that Dr. Todd would have
jumped on that and made some carefully worded psychobabble crack or
conclusion about Josh having sex with his secretary so she left it
out. "Tell me Dr. Todd, are there no exceptions to this commitment
procedure? No way around it?" she said with smile disarming smile. A
smile that anyone who knew her at all well, would have seen for her,
"I'm-only-being-polite-until-I-have-a-chance-to-squash-you-under-my-heel"
look.

"I'm afraid not," Dr. Todd said as if she was deeply sorry when it was
obvious she was anything but. "The only option would be if someone
held her medical power of attorney."

Abbey felt Josh stiffen again and start to say something but she
gripped his wrist again to keep him quiet. Poor boy was probably going
to have bruises where her hand was but she needed him to let her do
the talking for the moment. "What difference would a medical power of
attorney make?" Abbey asked, keeping her voice light with professional
interest although she pretty much already knew the answer.

"Well, you see, since Miss Moss is the patient being committed she
cannot be trusted to make her own decisions. So the person who holds
her medical power of attorney could assume that responsibility," Dr.
Todd explained.

"That's fascinating, Dr. Todd," Abbey said, playing up to her obvious
ego. "So you mean that's all it would take to get her released from
the psychiatric unit? Someone with a medical power of attorney to sign
a release?"

"No. In addition to the medical power of attorney, a board-licensed
therapist would also need to sign a release saying they would assume
responsibility for her care," Dr. Todd said.  Then she shook her head,
"But since I'm sure that Miss Moss has no such power of attorney...."

Josh felt Abbey release his wrist, telling him she was done and
effectively letting him off the leash. He could have kissed Abbey in
gratitude right then if they hadn't been standing in a public waiting
room and she wasn't....you know, the wife of the most powerful man in
America. By keeping him quiet, she'd just managed to extract the
answer to getting Donna out of the psychiatric unit. "Yes, she does
have a medical power of attorney," Josh said, arrogance and smugness
dripping from every word.

Dr. Todd looked shocked. It was relatively uncommon for someone as
young as Donna to have a medical power of attorney. "She does?"

"Yes, she does," Sam answered, equally arrogant.  He'd drawn the
papers up himself, not too long after Rosslyn, at Donna's request.
She'd told him if anything happened to her and she couldn't speak for
herself, she knew Josh would make the right decision. She didn't want
her parents having any power over her in that respect.  "As I recall,
the agent named to act on her behalf is one Joshua Lyman."

Now Dr. Todd looked positively ill. "You...you are her agent?"

Josh grinned widely, "That's right."

She seemed to collect herself for a moment, "Fine.  But you still need
a licensed therapist to sign her out and I assure you that won't be
me."

"I wouldn't ask you tie her shoes," Josh assured her.

Dr. Todd pulled herself into her most condescending demeanor, "Be that
as it may, MISTER Lyman, until you find a therapist to release her,
she is my patient and she will remain in the psychiatric unit for at
least 72 hours. Longer if I have anything to say about it."

"Well, shortly you won't have anything to say about it," Sam put in.
"In the meantime, as her agent and the holder of her medical power of
attorney, Mr. Lyman has the right to visit Ms. Moss."

Dr. Todd glared at Sam. "I realize that," she snapped out. "Show the
power of attorney to the on-duty nurse in the psychiatric unit and as
soon as they get Miss Moss settled in a room you can see her."

Abbey couldn't let Josh and Sam have all the fun. "You know Dr. Todd,
you'd do well to remember that you don't know everything and that your
patients are more than just case studies and the little boxes that
you've decided they should fit conveniently into."

"Thank you for the advice, Mrs. Bartlet," she said tightly. "Good
day." Unable to be in the same room with these three people any
longer, Dr. Todd turned on her heel and strode back into the emergency
room.

"Wow, she would have made a good Nazi," Sam said as they watched her walk away.

"What do you mean 'would have made,' she is a Nazi," Josh replied,
disgusted. When he saw Donna he planned to tell her she wasn't the
only one who had a distinct dislike of Dr. Jan Todd.

"So, Josh, who do you have in mind for the therapist to sign Donna out
of the psych unit?" Sam asked.

Josh pulled out his phone, "I'm going to call Stanley. Donna told me
he gave her the name of a therapist in Bethesda but she hadn't gotten
around to giving me the number so I'll get it from him."

"Just so you know, Josh. When you get her out of the psych unit she'll
probably still have to be in a regular room in the hospital," Abbey
explained. "They'll want to monitor her infection closely for the next
couple of days."

"Right. At least she'll be in a regular room though," he said, pulling
Stanley's number up in his speed dial.

Abbey nodded, "Well, you guys need me any more?"

"No, Mrs. Bartlet I think we can handle it from here." He paused.  "I,
um....."  'Oh, hell,' he thought.  Leaning forward, he gathered her
into a hug.  "Thank you, Mrs. Bartlet. Thanks for everything you've
done for her."

Abbey patted him on the back. "I'm glad I could help." She released
him, "You just take care of her, Josh, and let me know if you need
anything else. Well, I need to get back to the White House. Let me
know once you get her sprung from the psychiatric unit and I'll come
by and see her."

"Okay, thanks again, Mrs....Dr. Bartlet," Josh said, trying to add his
own touch of respect. Abbey smiled and left with her entourage of
Secret Service agents. Josh turned to Sam. "Sam, I need you to do a
couple things for me."

"Name them," Sam said without hesitation.

"Go back the White House. If Leo's there, fill him in for me on what's
going on and that I'm going to be here for at least the rest of today.
Then go to my office and pull Donna's medical power of attorney. It's
in the small two drawer fire safe file cabinet in the corner. The keys
are in top left drawer of my desk. You'll find her medical power of
attorney in the top drawer of the file cabinet in a file marked
'personal.' After you bring me the power of attorney, I need you to go
to her apartment. Here's the keys to the front door," he said, handing
Sam his key ring. "Do you still remember her pass codes for the front
door and the alarm?"

Sam thought for a minute, "Yeah."

"Okay, pack her a small bag of things you think she might need for a
couple of days. Pajamas, maybe a change of clothes, toiletries, that
kind of thing.  Be sure you pack Zane, that's her stuffed grey
rabbit."

"I remember," Sam said, nodding.

"He'll probably be in the bed someplace, she'd been sleeping with him
the last couple of days."

"Okay. I'll take care of everything.  What are you going to do?" Sam asked.

"While I'm waiting for them to get her settled and you to get back
with her power of attorney, I'm going to call Stanley and see if I can
get the therapist he recommended to come here to the hospital so we
can get this straightened out."

**********

Donna idly laid there and watched the people working on her. She
blinked and wondered how many times a minute the average person
blinked. She'd have to do some research on that.

'Wait,' she thought with a tiny frown. Wasn't there something she was
supposed to remember? Wasn't there something she was supposed to be
upset about? She knew the answer a minute ago but now it seemed so far
away. Ever since Dr. Todd came.  Mean Dr. Todd. She didn't like Dr.
Todd.  Dr. Todd had told them to hold her down so she could put a
needle of something in her I.V. Maybe that's what she was supposed to
be upset about. She just couldn't remember.

Everything had gotten fuzzy after that. And now, even though she
couldn't move her arms and legs for some reason, she felt a little
like she was floating on a cloud or something. Even the pain in her
leg didn't hurt anymore and she was so sleepy. Maybe she'd take a
little nap and when she woke up she'd work on remembering whatever it
was she'd forgotten.

She just wished Josh was there. Josh would help her remember. He would
bring her Zane and hot tea and beautiful roses. Maybe they could take
Harley for a walk. She frowned again as she began to drift off to
sleep.  Where was Josh?

**********

With a sigh, Josh leaned up against the wall of the empty elevator.
Even though it was only about 1 p.m., the day felt like it had lasted
for an eternity. He was finally on his way up to see Donna.  It had
been an hour since he'd had his little run in with Dr. Todd, whom he'd
now nicknamed 'Dr. Nazi' and although Sam had brought the power of
attorney to him a half hour ago, the hospital hadn't gotten Donna
transferred from emergency to the psychiatric unit until a few minutes
ago.

He'd gotten a hold of Stanley. Who, he found out, had flown to
Alexandria, Virginia after the Chicago conference to consult with
another therapist on a case. Josh had filled him in and even with the
sketchy details that Josh had given him, Stanley was surprised and a
bit shocked that Dr. Todd had decided to commit Donna.  He told Josh
he would pick up Barbara and they would be over to the hospital just
as soon as possible.

He ran his hand through his hair, this was really the first moment he
had to stop and think about what had put Donna in the hospital. Abbey
said Donna had cut herself. That she'd hurt herself on purpose.  How
could that be? He just didn't understand. He thought that she was
better after his talk with her in the White House basement. Oh, he
knew that things weren't fixed with her by any means but he thought
they were on the right track. Obviously he'd missed something.

The elevator doors swished open and Josh walked up to a large desk,
behind which stood huge wooden doors. Locked doors.

"Can I help you?" the young nurse behind the desk asked with a
pleasant smile. Unlike 'Dr. Nazi' she looked kind and...rational.

"Yes, I'm here to see a patient who was just admitted. Her name is
Donnatella Moss but you'll have her listed under the assumed name
Sydney Collins." Josh reached into his pocket and pulled out the
medical power of attorney. "I was told to give you this so I could get
in to see her."

The nurse, her badge said, 'Katie Sanderson,' took the paper and
looked it over. "Yes, Mr. Lyman, I was told to expect you. I just need
to see a picture ID." Josh pulled out his wallet and showed her his
driver's license. "Fine, Mr. Lyman. I just need to make a copy of the
medical power of attorney for our files. While you're waiting could
you sign in, please?" she said, handing him a clipboard. Josh signed
the form as she disappeared into the next room. He heard a copy
machine start up and then she reemerged a few moments later.

"Here's your original back," she said, handing him back the power of
attorney. "I'll put you in the system as an authorized visitor so next
time you come to visit Miss Collins just sign in with the nurse on
duty here and show her your ID. She'll let you through." Katie pulled
out a small badge and handed it to him, "Now, you'll need to wear this
visitor's badge at all times when you're in the ward, as well as being
escorted to and from her room by a staff member. Just return the badge
to the desk when you leave. Any questions?"

"No, but I wanted to tell you that as Miss Collins' agent I've asked
two outside mental health professionals to consult on her case. They
should be here shortly."

"What are their names and I'll add them to the list?"

"Dr. Stanley Keyworth and Dr. Barbara Abbott. Oh, and is there any
kind of a consultation room here we can use?"

Katie wrote the names down on a pad. "Yes, we have a number of private
consultation rooms you can use. You just go down this hall. Each of
the rooms is marked by a small plaque that says 'consultation.' If the
door is standing open then you're welcome to make use of the room."

"Thank you, Katie, you've been a huge help.  Now what room is Miss Collins in?"

"Oh, she's in room 201. I've sent for an orderly and he'll show you
the way. Please remember not to disturb any of the other patients."
Just then the locks on the large doors clicked open loudly and a young
orderly stepped out. "Hi, Justin," Katie said, greeting him. "This is
Mr. Lyman, he'll be seeing Miss Collins in 201. She came in a few
minutes ago."

Katie turned back to Josh. "Mr. Lyman, Justin will take you back, just
follow him."

Josh nodded and followed Justin through the double doors. When they
closed behind them, Josh heard the metal locks sliding into place. The
sound was not unlike the sound of a cell door sliding closed.

They walked down a long corridor that looked like any other standard
hospital corridor. Except the doors to each room were inset with a
small clear window about the size of a standard piece of paper. This
allowed the staff to look in and do a visual accounting of the
patients without having to actually enter the room. It was also very
quiet. Eerily quiet. Usually when you walked through a hospital
corridor there were various levels of background noise.  TVs playing,
conversation buzzing, monitors beeping, respirators operating,
wheezing, coughing, even a bit of moaning. But here there was none of
that. All the doors were closed and Josh suspected that the rooms had
been made to be fairly sound proof. The place gave him the creeps and
he ached to think that Donna was locked behind one of these doors.

Justin led him down to the end of the hall to a door on the left.
Pulling what looked like a keycard out of his pocket he slid it into
the lock which looked very similar to a lock on a hotel room door. A
small light clicked from red to green and Justin opened the door part
way but stood between him and his view of Donna. "When the door closes
you'll be locked in," he explained.  "The patients tend to wander if
they're not secured. Plus it protects the patients if another patient
becomes violent. When you're ready to go, use this intercom," he said,
indicating a small speaker set into the wall just inside the room by
the door. "Someone will be by to let you out and escort you to the
ward entrance."

Josh nodded and Justin stepped back and allowed him to enter. Josh
didn't hear Justin leave and he didn't hear the door close with a snap
of locks. His eyes were solely on the single bed that stood in the
middle of the room. The room was cast in heavy shadow, with the only
outside window in the room being mostly covered with thick drapes, but
he could just make out Donna's shape lying still and quiet in the bed.
The blankets were pulled up to her chin.

The room itself was pretty dismal. The phrase 'hospital meets prison'
came to mind. It was the ultimate in 'industrial' decorating. Plain
walls and a bare tile floor. Easier to clean, he assumed. There was
one spartan, utilitarian visitors chair. A standard light and medical
utility panel was mounted into the wall over the bed. A bathroom that
had a small metal wash basin and a metal toilet, but nothing else.
There was no TV, no night stand, no wardrobe, and no telephone.

He walked to the side of the bed.  "Donna?" he said, quietly. "Are you
awake?"  Just when he didn't think she was, her head turned slowly
toward him and her eyes opened. In the low light, the two dark blue
pools were just visible against the paleness of her skin.

"Hi, how you doing?" he asked her gently. But she only stared back at
him silently. An occasional blink being his only sign that she was
even awake. "Hey, you're not going to pull that possum routine on me
now are you?" he chided her softly. "I thought we'd gotten past that."
Still no answer.

He looked around the room for a moment, trying to think of what to say
next. An I.V. stand stood next to her bed with two bags of fluid
dripping down into tubes that eventually merged into one and then
flowed into her arm which was currently covered by the blanket.  A
small monitor was mounted in the middle of the stand and it was giving
a read out of her pulse and heart rate. Her heart beat seemed slow but
steady.

"Donna? I don't know if they told you in emergency or not....you've
got an infection but you're going to be fine." He paused. "Um, Abbey
told me about the cuts they found. Donna, why did you hurt yourself?
Can you just tell me why?" he asked gently and without accusation.

'Josh? Is that Josh?' Donna wondered. It was so hard to focus and
there wasn't much light. It was like trying to see him through dark
fog. His voice was coming to her from what sounded like a long
distance and he looked funny, like she was looking at him down a dark
tunnel. Maybe if she focused on his voice and listened to what he was
saying that would help.

"I want to understand. I want to help you. I'll do anything to help
you," he said.

'Yes, he always helps me,' she thought. That was what he did, he helped people.

"That day in the Residence when you were still recovering from the
attack. Do you remember what we said?  What we decided? That we'd have
to die together because neither of us could deal with the other one
dying first. Do you remember?" he asked, his voice heavy with emotion.

Yes, she remembered. She needed to tell him she remembered but while
she could feel her mouth trying to move so she could form the words,
no sound would come out.

"They think you may have been trying to kill yourself, I told them it
wasn't true. I was right wasn't I?" he said, a tear trailing down his
cheek. He didn't notice it and if he had he wouldn't have cared. "You
weren't trying to go before me, were you? 'Cause I love you and I
won't let you go anywhere without me."

She wasn't going anywhere without him. How could he think that? She
had to tell him. Had to make him understand.  "Jossshhh..." His name
came out just above a slurred whisper.

"Just talk to me, please Donna," he begged, trying to get her to open up.

Yes, she had to talk to him. She wanted to touch him, to reassure him
that she wasn't going anywhere. She tried to raise her arm but she
couldn't. Why couldn't she move her arms and legs? "Joshhh...." she
tried again, his name still coming out a bit slurred.

Josh heard her say his name but it was said as a plea and he saw Donna
begin to move restlessly in the bed as if she was weakly fighting
something. Something was wrong, he thought. "Donna? Donna, what is
it?" Reaching above her, he flipped on the light. Looking back down at
her, his fears were confirmed. Something WAS wrong.  Donna's eyes
weren't blank like he thought. They were bewildered.  Her pupils were
way too small given the fact that there had been so little light in
the room a moment ago.

She was wasn't being uncommunicative.  He was pretty sure she was
drugged out of her mind.

Pulling part of the blanket back, he now saw why she was struggling.
She was also in full restraints. "Oh, God, Donna. What have they done
to you? Hang on while I get those off of you." He began unbuckling the
heavy leather restraints on her wrists and ankles. As he began to
remove them her movements began to calm until she was still again.

"Josh," she looked at him with a mixture of earnestness, sadness and
relief. "Sorrrry."

"Shhh," he said, laying one hand over her cheek and laying his other
hand over hers. "It's all right.  Don't be sorry.  We'll figure this
out. I promise. Stanley's on his way with Dr. Abbott and we're going
to get you out of here. Just rest now and when you wake up hopefully
you'll be in your own room. Okay?"

'Yes,' she thought, her body, relaxing completely. Josh would take care of her.

Once Donna had drifted back off again, Josh turned the overhead light
off and walked into the bathroom, which didn't even have a door. No
door meant it was easier to keep tabs on what the patients were doing,
he guessed. He didn't want to disturb Donna so he left the bathroom
light off. God, what if he'd been put in a place like this after that
Christmas? What if they'd drugged him and put him in restraints? Could
he have come back from that? Somehow he felt that it would have done
more harm than good.

Thankfully, Leo had dealt with things another way and found Stanley to
help him as a first step of getting out of the hole. And of course,
Donna had been there. She'd seen through him, through everything. Saw
that he was coming apart and acted in his best interest by telling
Leo. Then, later in the emergency room on Christmas Eve, she'd quietly
held his good hand as they'd stitched up his injured one.

He looked out of the bathroom at her sleeping form. Some of the
responsibility for her being in this ward was on his shoulders.
Although he had witnessed her own slow decent into the hole and done
what he'd thought was best, it hadn't been enough. He should have done
more and done it sooner. He should have known about the cutting, but
it had just never occurred to him that she might be hurting herself.
And while it was true that she'd needed to come to the hospital for
medical attention for the infection in her leg, he still hadn't done
enough to protect her. From herself and from people like Dr. Nazi.

Thoughts about the 'good' doctor made a new wave of anger roll through
him. Running some water in the small basin, he splashed the cool water
on his face. It did nothing to cool the anger raging inside him, so he
slumped against the wall and tried to breathe slowly and carefully.
The picture of him ripping Dr. Nazi's head off when he saw her next
kept popping into his head. And he definitely planned on seeing her
again. There was no way she was going to get out of the ass kicking
she so richly deserved.

How much was Donna supposed to take? She was being brutalized left and
right. First the attack and almost being murdered and now restrained,
locked away, and nearly drugged unconscious. 'Well,' he thought. 'It
stops here and it stops now.'

He took a breath and took a final moment to collect himself. After
all, Donna needed him right now and he would be no good to her if he
was blind with fury. Just then he heard the door to Donna's room open,
then close as someone walked in. His first instinct was to rush out
there and see who it was but as Abbey showed him today and Donna had
been trying to tell him since the day she'd hired herself as his
assistant, sometimes patience got you more than rushing in blindly. He
stepped further back into the shadows of the darkened bathroom and
waited. It was Dr. Nazi.

"Who undid these?" Dr. Todd asked a sleeping Donna. Finding the
restraints undone, Dr. Todd moved around the bed and rebuckled each of
them. Once she had them refastened, she moved back up to stand next to
Donna.  Reaching out she took a hold of Donna's shoulder and shook it.
"Miss Moss? Miss Moss, wake up!"

Donna began to swim up through a sea of fog. Who? What? Donna
struggled to open her eyes. They finally fluttered open but it was a
Herculean effort to keep them that way.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss Moss," she said,
referring to the fact that Donna's eyes were now open. In the low
light she failed to noticed that they were also unfocused. "You know I
really hate to say I told you so, Miss Moss, but in this case I'm
afraid I'm going to have to. l told you we'd be here if you didn't let
me help you. I said you'd self-destruct and you did." She watched
Donna for a moment, her expression cold and analytical. "And to make
this worse, you've created this alter-ego, Sydney. I know, I know,
your friends told me they created her. But I'm sure they're just
covering for you. By the way, how did you get the First Lady involved
in this? How could you possibly know her?" Dr. Todd stared down at the
helpless woman who stared back at her, first with bewildered blankness
and then with a dawning sense of distress. "Well, it doesn't matter
anyway, we'll get to the bottom of that soon enough."

'No,' Donna thought weakly.  'Not her. Josh? Where was Josh? He'll
make her go away.'

Dr. Todd looked at her now with an analytical curiosity. "I'm guessing
that Sydney gave you something to hide behind. Did you know that
sometimes victims of sexual assault actually want sex more rather than
less? Rape makes them feel like they're worthless, like sex is the
only thing they're good for. That they deserve to be used and abused.
Is that what happened with you? Did you go out dressed to bars as
Sydney and pick up men? Is that what made you so guilty you had to cut
yourself?  Or were you just trying to get some attention?"

In the shadows, Josh's hands balled into fists at hearing the venom
she was spraying at Donna. He remembered that night that Donna had
reached out to him for comfort and how it had shamed her. To hear Dr.
Nazi say those words to her now had to sting Donna viciously. He'd
heard enough.  Donna had heard enough.

"We could have avoided this if you'd just listened to me in the first
place. You have no one but yourself to blame for being here. The
cutting really surprised me though. I hadn't even suspected that.
Because of it, I'm sorry but I really had no choice but to commit
you." She patted Donna's shoulder in an attempt to be comforting, even
though Donna tried to pull away. "But don't worry, I can still help
you. You're going to be in therapy for a very, very long time but
eventually we'll find out what's going on in that head of yours."

Donna began to whimper as she struggled against the reimposed restraints again.

"Well, thankfully, you're never going to get that chance," Josh said,
stepping out of the shadows of the bathroom.

Dr. Todd whipped around at the sound of his voice and took two steps
back. "Mr. Lyman. What are you doing here?"

Josh stopped next to the bed, slipped his hand under the blanket and
laid his hand over Donna's. When their hands came together both of
them began to calm. Donna's eyes slid closed, she stopped fighting
against the restraints and her whimpers faded into silence. Josh's
anger evaporated out of him as he watched Dr. Nazi, who now had just a
touch of fear and doubt in her eyes. She really was mean and bitter,
he thought. The image of a mosquito came to mind. She'd had her drink
of Donna's blood and been an irritation and now he was going to squash
her. "As we discussed, because I'm her agent of record I'm entitled to
see her," he said, his voice calm and even, but with a deadly edge to
it. "But I think a better question might be, DOCTOR Todd, why you
found it necessary to put her in restraints and drug her out of her
mind?"

"I...she," Dr. Todd faltered.  "I made the decision to restrain her
because I was concerned she would try to harm herself again by
reopening her wound, or removing her I.V. As much as you don't want to
face the truth, Mr. Lyman, she's very sick and is a danger to
herself."

"And the drugs?" he said, equally calmly, still holding onto Donna's
hand. But it was a calm that was reminiscent of the way a shark was
calm while it circled around you getting ready to attack.

Dr. Todd took another step back. "She...she was combative when we
tried to restrain her. I wanted to keep her as calm as possible to
minimize the stress to her already agitated mental state."

"Ahhh, I see, so everything you did, you did for Donna. Yes, I see."
He paused and looked down at Donna again. She'd drifted off again.
"Well, I guess you and I have very different ideas of what her best
interests are. You see, I love her. I'd give my life to protect her.
You, on the other hand, only see her as a new bug for your collection.
She told me she didn't like you and after hearing the vile things you
just said to her I'm not surprised. She said that you were mean. I
thought she was just reacting to how difficult therapy can be,
especially in the beginning." He paused a moment. "I'll be sure to
listen to her better in the future. You know, she even said that you
disliked Harley. Told her that being attached to him could be bad.
How can you dislike Harley? He makes her smile, how can that be bad?"

"I don't need to justify my therapy methods to you," she said, trying
to gain some control over the situation.

"No, I don't suppose you do," he said calmly. "You will, however, have
to answer to the review board that I'm sure will be looking into your
fitness to practice what you questionably call psychiatry."

"What review board? What are you talking about?"

"The one that I'm sure will convene when I instruct Ms. Moss to sue
you and possibly this hospital for gross negligence and malpractice."
He leaned casually up against the bed rail.  "If nothing else, you can
be assured that the IRS and the FBI will be keeping a very close eye
on you for the foreseeable future."

A cold finger of fear went down her spine. "What do the IRS and the
FBI have to do with anything? What, do you work for one of them or
something?" she demanded.

Josh smiled. And it was similar to the smile a shark gave as it
finished circling and, opening it's powerful jaws, moved in to strike.
It was the smile he normally reserved for irritating Republican
Congressmen and Senators whom he knew he had by the balls and he was
going to enjoy getting to watch squirm. "No, I don't work for them.
You see, I work at the White House. I'm the Deputy Chief of Staff for
Strategic Planning. I answer to the Chief of Staff who answers
directly to the President of the United States." Even in the low light
of the room, Josh could see her visibly pale. "The IRS and the FBI
work for ME."

Just then, a loud metallic click sounded and the door to Donna's room
swung open. Stanley, a woman, Josh assumed was Dr. Abbott, and a nurse
stepped inside. "Hey, Stanley," Josh said.

"Hey, Josh," Stanley replied, glancing between, Josh, Donna and Dr.
Todd, who was doing her best to retain an air of superiority.

Barbara didn't wait for introductions but walked over to side of the
bed next to Josh. Setting her black medical bag and what looked like
Donna's medical chart on the bed, she opened her bag and pulled out a
stethoscope.  "How's my patient?" she asked Josh.

"I think something's wrong," he said, moving back out of her way. "Her
pupils seem too small and she woke up a little but she seemed really
out of it."

"She's my patient," Dr. Todd argued weakly.

"Not any more she's not," Barbara snapped, checking Donna's pupils and
her breathing. "And since it appears you've nearly given her an
overdose of Valium, I'll be sure to do all I can to see that you don't
have any more patients. Ever."

"But you can't..."

"Yes, I can. Now get out of my patient's room." Barbara turned to the
nurse, "Nurse, could you please bring me vial of flumazenil and a
syringe. Quickly." The nurse nodded and pulled out a key card which
she slid into a slot on the inside of the door to unlock it and she
hurried out of the room.

Josh already liked Barbara. He could recognize and admire someone who
knew how to kick some ass when it needed kicking.

Before the door could close all the way, Stanley grabbed the knob and
held it open. "Dr. Todd?" She nodded mutely. "I believe Dr. Abbott
asked you to leave."

"But..."

"NOW!" Barbara snapped. Dr. Todd jumped at the sound of her voice and
scurried out.

"An overdose?" Josh asked, a wave of worry going through him. "Is
she...she going to be all right?"

Barbara looped the stethoscope around her neck and looked up at Josh
with a reassuring smile. Her voice calm and professional. "It's not
quite an overdose. According to her chart she was given 10 mgs which
is the maximum recommended dose, but with her decreased pupil size,
her slightly depressed respiration and unresponsiveness I have a
feeling that she's sensitive to it. The flumazenil will counteract the
effects very quickly."

"Is it okay if I remove her restraints?" Josh asked her.

"Restraints?" Barbara said, pulling back the corner of the blanket
that Dr. Todd had readjusted after rebuckling the restraints. "Oh,
God. Four point restraints? There was no reason for that. Yes, of
course, Josh, unbuckle the one over there, Stanley get the two at her
ankles, I'll take this one." Once they were unbuckled, she pulled the
restraints from the bed and tossed them into the far corner. "God,
Stanley are we in the dark ages or what? I hope it doesn't set her
back farther."

"Why would it do that?" Josh asked.

Stanley explained. "Studies of victims of sexual assault have been
shown that being put in four or five point restraints can cause
further psychological trauma by reminding the victim of the assault.
Either indirectly by the simple act of being powerless to move or
directly due to the spread-eagle position of the body when it's in
restraints.  It's even more prevalent if the victim is not allowed to
wear clothes or when they have to interact intimately, say for the
purpose of an examination or for administration of medication or
treatment, with a healthcare provider of the same gender as their
assailant. For example, a female rape victim whose been
institutionalized and is under restraints that has to submit to a
pelvic exam performed by a male doctor."

"Oh," was all Josh could think to say about that. Then he had a
thought.  "God. While she was in emergency, they didn't....."

Barbara looked at him, "No. I checked. They only stitched up her leg
and started her medication. But they did hold her down to restrain her
while Dr. Todd gave her the injection. I'm hoping that, as is often
the case with large doses of valium, she'll have little, if any memory
of what happened just before and during the time she's been under the
influence of the drug.  It's similar to what happens when they put you
under for an operation." She looked at her watch. "I swear that nurse
is taking forever, she must be making the flumazenil on a hot plate in
the staff kitchen." She looked around the room. "Why do they always
make these places so damn gloomy?" Striding over to the window she
yanked back the curtains. The window was frosted and thin bars
criss-crossed it.  "Well, I can't say much for the view but at least
there's some light."

Barbara walked back to the bed and leaned over Donna. Her voice kind
and gentle, "Donna?  Can you hear me? I need you to wake up. You're
safe now." Donna moved a bit but didn't actually wake up. The nurse
arrived with the medication. "Finally. What took you so long?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Abbott, I had trouble locating it. We so don't often
have a need in the ward to REVERSE sedation," the nurse said, giving
her a small vial and a syringe.

"That's no excuse. I suggest you spend some time reacquainting
yourself with your drug supply. If her reaction had been stronger, she
could have been in respiratory arrest by the time you got back,"
Barbara replied, her voice calm, but steely.

"I'll be sure to review the medications and their locations, Doctor."

Barbara didn't take the time to answer.  She slid the syringe into the
upturned vial and drew out some of the medication. "We'll give her 0.2
mg to start. That way, we'll bring her out in small steps." Clearing
air from the syringe, she inserted the needed into the small port on
Donna's I.V. and pushed the plunger down. "We should see some
improvement in just a few minutes."

Stanley stepped forward, "While we're waiting, Josh, why don't you
sign this release form?" He handed Josh a clipboard.

"Is this what I think it is?" Josh asked, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

"Yeah, it's a the form releasing Donna from the psychiatric ward.
Barbara already signed it.  As soon as Donna's stabilized, we can take
her upstairs to her regular room."

Josh scribbled his name on the form. "But how....when?" He knew it
usually took a little time to arrange a regular hospital room.

Barbara looked at him with a little smirk, "I work fast, Josh.  Being
an M.D. as well as a therapist does have its perks.  I have privileges
here at GW and on the way in with Stanley, I called ahead and had them
arrange a standard hospital room for Donna."

Josh was more and more relieved that Donna was now in this woman's
hands. "Thank you, Dr. Abbott."

"Oh, please, call me Barbara."

Donna began to shift a bit in the bed and her eyes fluttered open,
"Josh?" she said, her words no longer slurred.

"I'm right here." Josh said, stepping forward to take her hand.

Donna slowly looked around the room, "Hey, Stanley."

"Hey, Donna," Stanley answered with a kind smile from the foot of her bed.

Then Donna's eyes fell on the other occupant in the room. She was
about Abbey's age and height with intelligent green eyes and long,
sandy brown hair that trailed down her back in a thick braid.  She was
wearing jeans and a comfortable, loose fitting blouse covered in a
soft floral pattern.  Small, thin silver bangle bracelets jingled
softly on her wrists and she wore matching hoop earrings. "Who are
you?" Donna asked.

Barbara smiled. "Hi Donna, I'm Dr. Barbara Abbott.  But you just call
me Barbara. Okay?"

"Okay," Donna said tiredly. "Stanley told me about you."

"Nothing good I'm sure," Barbara said with a glance and a smirk at Stanley.

"No," Donna said with a tired sigh. "He said you were nice and you like dogs."

Glad to see her patient was doing better, her smile got wider.  "I
ADORE dogs. If I didn't live in the city I'd have 30 of them.  I
understand you have a chocolate lab named Harley."

Donna smiled a bit, "Yeah."

"Well, I'm definitely going to want to meet him."

"Josh? Where is Harley?" Donna asked with a frown.

"He's fine.  Sam took him over to the White House. The Secret Service
guys are looking after him," he told her. She seemed to relax at that.

"How are you feeling, Donna?" Barbara asked her.

Donna took a moment to answer.  "Okay, I guess. My leg hurts a little.
Tired. A little sleepy."

"Well, that's to be expected.  You were given a little too much
valium. But it's okay now," she said, extracting another 0.2 mg of
flumazenil from the vial and injecting it into Donna's I.V.

"What is that?" Donna asked her.

"It's a drug to help counteract the affects of the valium. You were
pretty heavily sedated and this medicine helps to reverse that
sedation. What's the last thing you remember, Donna?"

Donna looked at Josh for a moment, then back at Barbara.
"I...remember being in my apartment.  I didn't feel very well. My leg.
It hurt...." she trailed off. Realizing what she'd said.

"It's okay, Donna," Josh said, gently.  "We know about the cuts on your legs."

She looked at him for a long moment, watching for any signs of anger
or disgust or rebuke but all she saw was Josh and the acceptance she
always seemed to find there.  "Oh."

Barbara didn't want Donna going too far down that road until they
could take the time to explore it together. "Do you remember anything
else?"

Donna looked back at Barbara. The fog seemed to be slowly lifting from
her mind. "I....I got up to go to the bathroom and then....then..."
she said with a frown trying to pull up the memory that was just
beyond her reach.

"Yes?" Barbara urged, gently.  "It's okay, Donna. You can tell us."

"I remember, Dr. Todd. She....they....she had them hold me down and
she put something in my I.V." she said, her voice getting shaky. "I
don't remember anything else until I woke up a few minutes ago."

"Donna," she said, gently laying her hand on the young woman's
shoulder.  "You're safe now.  No one is going to hurt you."

"Where am I?"

"You're at GW," Josh told her.  "I found you unconscious in your
apartment and an ambulance brought you here.  You have an infection in
the cut on your leg. Abbey talked to the emergency room doctor and she
said you'll be just fine."

"That's right," Barbara told her. "But the infection was pretty severe
so you'll need to say in the hospital a couple of days just so they
can make sure it's healing all right."  She could see panic come into
Donna's eyes. "No, no, Donna. It's all right. Don't worry. We've got a
better room for you than this. A regular one with a window you can
actually see out of and everything. Josh will be there, right?" They
both looked up at Josh.

"Of course, I will. I even had Sam pack Zane for you," he said, giving
her hand a gentle squeeze.

"And I thought since you'll probably be bored out of your skull, I'd
stop by to keep you company and we can talk and get better
acquainted." Barbara told her.  "Would that be all right?"

Donna looked at her a moment. Something about her made Donna feel
safe. It was a different safe than when she was with Josh. It was more
how she felt when she was around Abbey and the President. "I'd like
that."

"Good," Barbara said with a smile. "Now, since you're feeling better,
I think we'll take you up to your new room.  Is that okay?"

"Yes." She didn't like this room. It was bleak to say the least.

"Great.  Once we get you settled, I'll need to steal Josh and Stanley
away for a few minutes. Is there someone you'd like to come and sit
with you?"

"Sam should be down in the waiting room by now," Josh suggested.

Donna nodded, "Sam would be good."

"Okay," Barbara said with a smile. "I guess that means we're off and
running like a herd of turtles. Let's get you out of here." She leaned
over and spoke conspiratorially to Donna, "'Cause, just between you
and me, this room could use a visit from the Queer Eye for the
Straight Guy crew."

Donna and Josh looked at each other and smiled. "Or one from Sam,"
they said, together.

**********

"So let me get this straight. You guys have had her dressing up as
someone named 'Sydney' for nearly THREE months?" Barbara asked him,
incredulously.

Josh, Barbara, and Stanley were gathered in a small conference room,
just down from Donna's new room on the 5th floor, with Leo, the
President, Abbey and CJ on speaker phone. They'd gotten Donna settled
in her new room and had Sam sitting with her until they were finished
with the conference call.

"Well, at the time it was thought it was the best way for Donna to
have a normal life until we caught her attacker," Leo said. "It was
either the disguise or locking her up in some kind of safe house."

"A normal life?" Barbara said. "Dressing up as someone else every time
you go out of the house does not sound like a 'normal life' to me."

"Josh, why didn't you tell me about Sydney?" Stanley asked him.

"I did.....didn't I?" Josh said.

"No, Josh.  You didn't.  You said you'd made it look like she was
officially dead. If you had told me you had her playing 'alter ego
girl' it would have taken me about 2 seconds to tell you it was bad
idea. After a violent crime like sexual assault often patients will
change some things in their lives. Move to a new apartment, get a new
hair cut, buy new clothes. It gives them choices and a feeling of
control over their lives when that control was taken away from them
during the assault.  But by making her masquerade around as Sydney,
you've completely supplanted that process.  She's dressing up as
Sydney because she's been told to, not because she chose to.  It's an
entirely different thing and subconsciously it adds to the feeling of
being powerless."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea or anything.  In fact, at the time, I recall
saying I thought it was not that great an idea," Josh replied.

"But she never said anything about it. Never seemed to mind," Leo
replied over the speaker phone.

Stanley answered before Barbara had a chance. "No Leo, she wouldn't
have. She'd do it because it was what was expected of her.  She'd do
it for you and for the President and for Josh."

"While her needs go unmet," Barbara said.

"She hates it," Josh said quietly.  "I've seen it in her eyes when she
wears Sydney. Seen it when she even talks about having to put on
Sydney."

Stanley looked at him a minute, "Well, at least one of you has been
paying attention."

"I think it's more than that," Barbara said quietly with a slight
frown as a number of thoughts went through her head.  "I think the
root of the problem may not lie with Sydney or even her assault three
months ago. While I'm sure they didn't help, I think they may have
only been the triggers that exposed the real problem."

"And what's the REAL problem? Josh asked, a bit baffled.

"Josh, getting annoyed with me is not going to help her," she told
him. Then she looked at him squarely.  "Anything I say at this point
is only a guess. I haven't talked to her enough yet but I will say
that I think the old scars on her legs are a clue to some things that
go much deeper and farther back than three months ago. From their
appearance, I'd say most of those scars go back to when she was a
teenager, maybe younger."

"But she already told us she got those when she was teenager from
running through a sliding glass door and then falling on the glass.
Are you saying she's lying?" Josh asked her, trying not to get mad.

"I'm not saying that at all, Josh." She paused.  "In my book you have
to be consciously aware that you're not telling the truth to be lying.
 I guessing that when Donna told you that, in her mind, that was
exactly how she got them."

Barbara put on her small granny style reading glasses on, "Look here,"
she said laying out four pictures that had been taken of the top of
Donna's legs.  "Oh, sorry guys," she apologized to the people on the
speaker phone that couldn't see the pictures. "We're looking at
pictures taken of the upper part of Donna's legs. The first two were
taken when she'd been in emergency after the assault.  The other two
were taken when she was admitted today. In today's picture the new
cuts are clearly visible in contrast to the old ones. The cuts and
patterns are almost identical.  There's just not as many."

"What are you trying to say, Barbara?" Abbey asked over the phone.

Barbara looked at Stanley. "What I'm trying to say is...I don't think
this is the first time Donna has cut herself. I'm pretty sure this was
a behavior that started when she was a teenager and then lapsed until
recently. The assault, the resulting stress, and her persona as Sydney
likely being what triggered the relapse."

"Why would it have started when she was a teenager?  What could have
possibly caused her to do it? COULD it have been a past suicide
attempt?" Josh asked.

"No, Josh. Unless someone cuts an area like their neck or their wrists
or they outrightly stab themselves, rarely is cutting or self-injury a
suicide attempt. It's just the opposite actually. It's often a stop
gap to suicide. A relief valve for pain and emotions too painful to
express otherwise. In some cases it can be a form of self-punishment,
but at it's most basic level it's simply a maladaptive coping
mechanism. Self-injurers quite often feel too little or too much and
they deal with that by injuring themselves.

If they feel too little, the physical pain of cutting or injuring
themselves gives them at least some kind of feeling when nothing else
does and they often report feeling like the act of injuring themselves
reminds them they're alive when they otherwise feel depersonalized,
numb or detached.

For those that feel too much, as the intense feelings build they can't
cope with the overload and by causing physical pain they reduce the
level of emotional pain.  It can also be a case where they're afraid
to express that huge well of pain outwardly so they injure themselves
as a way of venting those feelings."

"Sounds a lot like what I did by putting my hand through a window,"
Josh replied softly. "Everything was so overwhelming I just couldn't
deal with it."

"It's not that much different, Josh," Stanley replied. "Except for you
it was more of a one-time thing with the window, brought on by your
PTSD.  Self-injurers will often pick-up the behavior in puberty when
adult coping mechanisms are beginning to develop and it can go
undetected for years. But it can also be situational where certain
situations and times in a self-injurer's life can trigger it."

"In other words, they keep it for the big stuff," Josh remarked.

Stanley sighed, "Yeah, okay. Although I wouldn't exactly put it that
way in my next lecture."

"But this is a pretty isolated problem though, isn't it?" the President asked.

"No, sir, not as much as you might think," Barbara said.  "It's
estimated that self-injurers account for almost 1 percent of the
population of the U.S."

"But that's over 2 million people you're talking about," Jed said, stunned.

"Yes, sir," Barbara replied. "And a higher proportion of females,
rather than males, engage in this kind of behavior. 90% of
self-injurers report that they were discouraged from expressing
emotions, particularly anger and sadness when they were young. Which
is why it's thought females are more likely to develop the behavior
because they're taught to not be aggressive or to show anger or
aggression, which are typically seen as male traits. And most
staggering of all, nearly 50% of self-injurers report being sexually
abused as children." Barbara stopped to let that sink in.

"Barbara are you saying what I think you're saying?" Josh asked,
hoping he was wrong.

"Yes. Josh. Although it's only a theory, I have a hunch that Donna was
sexually abused as a child or teenager."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 26 - MATURE



Josh sat in the visitor's chair and watched Donna sleeping quietly.
She'd fallen asleep while they'd been having their conference call.
Sam said she'd drifted right off in the middle of his story about
closing up his law office in California. So, Sam, being Sam, spent the
rest of his time with her unpacking the suitcase he'd brought for her.
Josh decided to cut him a break and not tell Toby about the unpacking,
since there was little doubt in his mind that Toby would only seize it
as another opportunity to harass Sam.

Barbara and Stanley had left about an hour ago and Barbara asked him
to tell Donna that she'd be by in the morning for a visit. She'd also
told him that Donna might sleep a lot for the next 12 hours because
the valium would take longer to completely work its way out of her
body than the flumazenil. A nurse was scheduled to come in about once
an hour and check to make sure Donna wasn't having any lingering
difficulties.

Zane was tucked securely in the crook of her arm and she looked young
and innocent as she slept. He took a moment and tried to picture her
as a child. The image came back looking even more innocent. 'How could
someone hurt her as a child?' he wondered. He just couldn't come up
with an answer. It was as inconceivable as someone wanting to hurt her
like they had three months ago.

Despite the fact they'd all heard Barbara's theory about Donna's
possible childhood trauma and its connection to her recent
difficulties, they'd unanimously decided that it would be best if they
didn't tell Donna what they suspected.  If she had been abused, she
needed to come to grips with it and the present consequences in her
own time and with Barbara's help.

However, there were some other topics that did need to be discussed.
Sydney, for one, and the relationship between Sydney and Donna, and
going back to work for another. They were caught in kind of a catch-22
with the situation. Barbara and Stanley had both agreed, without much
argument from anyone else, that asking Donna to continue to be Sydney
could be a potentially large roadblock to her recovery and that Josh
and the others shouldn't ask her to keep doing it.

But, and it was a big but, if she didn't continue her persona of
Sydney, it opened up a whole new set of problems.  Would she go back
to work at the White House as herself? If so, they'd have to come
clean about the whole "the reports of my death have been greatly
exaggerated" thing. There would most likely be a media frenzy
surrounding her "resurrection," which wouldn't be good for her
recovery either. Not to mention that fact that it would mean her
attacker would know she was alive which would likely put her life in
danger.

About her only other option was to be herself but keep a low profile
and pray she stayed under everyone's radar. Which meant basically
staying in her apartment and only going out when she had at least a
hat on her head or was wearing some other kind of bare bones version
of a disguise to keep from being recognized. That idea could also be
taken one step further and the FBI could place her in protective
custody in some kind of safe house until the DC Strangler was caught.
Hopefully it wouldn't be long before the FBI and the DC police caught
him.

Of course, given their track record on the case so far, that was a big
leap. Josh had even called Mike Casper and admittedly vented some of
his frustration.  He'd demanded to know why the FBI and the DC Police
hadn't caught the guy. Mike, knowing how close to home this situation
was for Josh, had accepted all of his harsh words and then calmly
explained the problem.

Although the strangler had left plenty of DNA and fingerprints at each
of the scenes, enough that were he to be caught, would easily lock him
in a cage forever, no matching information apparently existed in any
database they'd checked. Which meant that either he was new at this or
he'd just never been caught before and had never held a job where
fingerprints or a DNA sample were required as part of his employment
records.  Aside from the fingerprints and the DNA there also hadn't
been much other physical evidence left at the crime scenes. Donna had
been the only survivor and because he struck in the middle of the
night, there'd been virtually no witnesses who'd apparently been
around to see him come or go.

The FBI profilers had put together a preliminary work-up on the
strangler.  They felt he was single, a bit of a loner, Caucasian,
probably between 25-45, strong, at least in his hands as it took a
certain amount of strength to strangle someone barehanded, emotionally
stunted, his apparent patience and organized planning of each crime
led them to believe he was probably highly intelligent, and they were
almost certain that he had once had a strong female influence in his
life that had ultimately turned out badly.

They also theorized that given the way he had changed from the gun to
strangulation and then unintentionally failed to completely strangled
her, in essence perfecting his technique, he'd probably started his
rampage with Donna.

The FBI and the DC police had also looked at the victims themselves to
see if they provided any clues to the killer's identity.  Except for
being blonde, similar in age and overall body type, single, and having
no pets, the links between them were hard to come by. They had a
variety of jobs, lived in two different neighborhoods, were all in
different financial situations, shopped at different stores, had their
hair done at different places, drove different cars; in fact, some
didn't have cars at all, and ate at different restaurants.

Mike finished by telling Josh that the strangler had been smart and
lucky, but brains would only get him so far and since he was getting
bolder with each crime, his luck would eventually run out.

Josh hadn't been able to stop the words that had spilled quietly from
his mouth. "But how many women are going to have to die and how ruined
is Donna's life going to be before it does?" Mike hadn't had an answer
for that.

Donna stirred slowly in the bed, snapping him back to the present.
"Josh?" she said, her voice just above a sleepy whisper.

He smiled, glad to see her eyes were a little sleepy, but focused and
aware.  "Hi, sleepyhead."

Donna pressed the button on the bed and raised the head into a halfway
sitting position. "I feel like I've been asleep forever.  What time is
it?" she asked a little tiredly as she tried to shift herself into a
comfortable spot. As she moved her leg, she winced a bit at the mildly
stinging pain that went through it.

Josh stood and moved to her side.  "You okay?"

Donna took a breath and nodded. "My leg hurts a little," she said
without thinking. Looking up at Josh, she wondered what he would say
at that.

He only looked down at her, his eyes soft and earnest, "Between the
infection and the stitches they put in to close the cut, Abbey and
Barbara both said it would be sore for a day or two."

"Stitches?" she asked.

"Yeah, about 20 apparently. The ER doctor said they thought the
infection and the cut would heal faster if they stitched it."

"Oh," she said, not knowing what to say next.  She supposed she owed
him some kind of explanation. But how did you tell someone why you cut
yourself on purpose when you didn't fully understand it yourself?
Except to say that you were ashamed it had happened? That you were so
screwed up that couldn't stop yourself? That you weren't the strong
and dependable person they knew and relied on? She lowered her head,
her heart heavy. "Josh, I....," she trailed off, struggling for the
words. "I'm sorry. I know that doesn't excuse what happened but......"

"Donna?" She looked up at him and he could see the pain and insecurity
clearly in her eyes.  He reached out and took her hand, "It's okay,
Donna. We'll work on it. All of it. Barbara's going to help you, I
know she is. By the way, she's going to come by tomorrow and visit
you." He smiled.  "You should have seen the way she chewed Dr. Nazi a
new one. That alone would have made you like her," he said, then
sobered. "And I'm going to be there for you every step of the way. You
don't have to do it alone. I won't let you do it alone. Just promise
me you'll remember that there's nothing so bad you can't tell me."

Donna looked at the man standing next to her. The amazing,
frustrating, passionate, brilliant, loyal, driven, funny, arrogant,
perfectly flawed man who'd become such an elemental part of her life.
When most men would have thrown up their hands in frustration with
her, he was standing here telling her he wasn't going anywhere. What
had she ever done in her life to deserve him as a friend? "I promise
to remember that," she whispered with deep earnestness. They looked at
each other a moment, acceptance and deep friendship passing between
them.  Then a little frown appeared on her face, "Dr. Nazi?"

He grinned at that, "Oh, that.  Just a little nickname I picked out
for your favorite therapist, Dr. Todd. She was acting like a Nazi in
the ER earlier."

Donna smirked ever so slightly at that, "It suits her."

**********

Back in Bethesda, Barbara unlocked the door and stepped inside.
Closing the door behind her, she walked through her comfortably
cluttered office to her large desk. She pulled the file Stanley had
given her on Donna's case out of her bag and laid it on the desk.
Moving to a small cabinet, she pulled out a clean mug and filled it
with hot water from the spout on the water cooler. Dropping a tea bag
into the water she sat down at her desk and opened the file.

'Poor thing,' she thought, slipping on her glasses and sipping on her
tea as she read through the file. From the police report and photos
that Stanley had gotten from Josh, the assault three months ago had
been brutal. She'd counseled a lot of trauma victims, including rape
and sexual assault victims, so she'd heard and seen a lot but Donna's
case was one of the worst in her memory, especially given the fact
that she'd lived through her attack. Well, that showed that she had a
strong will to live and she was a survivor. Both of which would help
her recovery.

According to the file, because of her head injury, she had almost no
memory of the assault. That could be good and bad. Good for the
obvious reason that she didn't have direct knowledge of what had been
done to her. No memories to fight with. But, and it could be a
significant but, the mind had an odd way of sometimes unconsciously
filling in the blanks with feelings and emotions that were just as bad
as the real thing. Every shadow blossomed with sinister intent because
the unseen attacker could be lurking there. Every stranger took on
certain threatening air simply because the mind wondered if they could
be the faceless attacker.

Plus Donna still had to live with the 'idea' of what had happened to
her and what her body and her life had gone through in the aftermath.
Barbara imagined it must have been very disorienting and
disconcerting. Part of recovery involved taking control of what had
happened to you rather than letting it control you. It was pretty hard
to control what you couldn't remember. There was just no predicting
how Donna's mind was processing what had happened until Barbara had a
chance to talk to her.

Sitting back in her chair, she thought for a few minutes.  There was
no doubt in her mind that she could help Donna overcome the trauma of
the assault but Barbara's real concerns were focused on the cutting
and the scars on her legs. She wondered if parallel things were at
work. If the cutting was an old behavior from Donna's possible abuse
as a child that showed up now, in the aftermath of the sexual assault,
could the events of her youth be returning to fill in her current
memory blanks? Since Donna had most likely repressed the memory of the
childhood abuse, could it now be finding expression in the fear and
impact of the assault from 3 months ago? Again there just wasn't much
of a way to know the answer right now. The answers were locked inside
Donna. Barbara's fondest hope was that she could give Donna the help
she needed to unlock them.

Barbara leaned forward again and made a few notes to herself along
those same lines. Depending on how things went with Donna, Barbara
could use them as guides during their sessions. Lines to follow.
Threads to tug. Avenues to explore.

Leafing through the folder she came across some of Donna's basic
information. Among it was a contact number for Donna's parents.
Barbara considered for a moment if speaking to Donna's parents as
background would help her get a better picture of what had happened in
her childhood. It was a common practice in cases like Donna's for the
therapist to speak to the friends and family of a patient, at least in
the beginning, to get a sense of their state of mind and recent
behavior. But she'd have to tread carefully. If Donna had been abused
when she was a child, there was a very real possibility that one or
both of her parents had been involved in some way. She already knew
from Josh that Donna's parents had been told the truth about her
'death' and that they'd been more concerned about how her death would
look to their friends and in their community than they had about the
fact that their daughter had almost been murdered.

Glancing at the clock, she saw it was about 4, which meant it was 3 in
Wisconsin. Picking up the phone, Barbara dialed the number. The phone
rang twice before someone picked up.  "Hello?"

"Yes, is this Mrs. Moss, Mrs. Brenda Moss?"

"Yes, who am I speaking to?" the no-nonsense voice inquired.

"Mrs. Moss, my name is Dr. Abbott. I'm treating your daughter at the
moment." There was a long pause and Barbara wondered if Brenda was
going to answer.

"Treating her for what?" A note of cautious suspicion had entered her voice.

"She had a cut on her leg that got infected and I'm the doctor
treating her." 'Well,' she reasoned. 'That's true.'

"What does that have to do with me?"

Hmm. Most mothers would have been asking if their daughter was all
right. "Actually the cut I'm treating is not why I'm calling.  The cut
is right near a large group of scars that are also on both her legs,
her thighs to be exact."

"Oh, those," Brenda Moss said matter-of-factly. "What about them?"

"Donna couldn't seem to remember how she got them."

"You mean she didn't tell you the sliding glass door story?  I thought
that's what she told everyone."

"The sliding glass door story?" Barbara asked, as if she didn't already know it.

"She used to tell anyone who found out about the scars that she'd run
through a sliding glass door when she was a kid and then fallen on the
glass or something."

"Oh, see. But that's not how she got them?"

"No, of course not," Brenda replied. "She got them by cutting herself
with a kitchen knife."

Barbara was a little surprised there wasn't even a hint of concern
when Brenda had said it. Instead it was almost....annoyance. "Oh. Was
she ever treated by a doctor for the cuts? Or by a therapist for the
reason she'd cut herself?"

Brenda chuckled, "Are you kidding? The cuts weren't that bad and there
weren't that many. I saw to it that she took care of them herself.  I
always taught her it was important to be self-reliant because if you
don't look out for yourself, no one is going to do it for you. And I
didn't need to a psychiatrist or therapist to tell me why she did it.
I knew why."

Barbara pulled out the pictures of Donna's scars, the old ones. She'd
counted 10 on her left leg and 15 on her right. Brenda either had a
strange idea of what constituted "that many" or she didn't know the
extent of Donna's cutting. Barbara sensed it was probably the latter.
"Do you mind if I ask you why you think she did it?" 'This should be
good,' Barbara thought.

Brenda didn't apparently think it was strange that Barbara was asking
her these questions. "The same reason she did everything. To get
attention. Donnatella was always big on attention.  She even used to
make up the wildest stories and tell them to anyone who'd listen. She
made up some whoppers about a summer she spent at her aunt and uncle's
farm in Iowa. Donna and the truth have always had an interesting
relationship. I used to tell her, 'Donnatella, if you keep telling
these lies no one is ever going to believe you.'" Brenda paused. "I
used to punish her left and right but she has a stubborn streak in her
a mile wide."

Barbara jotted down a note about Brenda comment about the summer at
the farm.  It was probably nothing but she wanted to remember it just
in case. "What kind of punishment did you use?" Barbara said
carefully.

Brenda laughed again, but it had a hard edge to it this time, "Well,
by the time she was 3, spanking just wasn't enough so I gave her my
own version of a time out."

Barbara knew that she was absolutely not going to like the answer but
she needed to ask.  She kept her voice level and curious. "What do you
mean by your own version of a time out?

"Well, see, sending her to her room didn't do any good.  I wanted her
to really think about what she'd done and if I sent her to her room,
she always found something to play with or distract herself with. So I
had this linen closet in our old condo and I locked her in there so
she'd have plenty of time to think about what she'd done without any
distractions."

Barbara took a slow, quiet breath, "Is that how you punished her when
you found out about her cutting herself?"

"You better believe it," Brenda said, a note of pride in her voice.
"And it worked too. By the time she was 13, she'd stopped her
foolishness with the knife and she finally started knowing how to act
properly."

'No,' Barbara thought. 'She'd just learned how to hide things better.'
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts.
"Well, Mrs. Moss, thank you for the information. I have some patients
I have to see so I need to be going." She'd heard about all she needed
or wanted to.

"Glad I could be of help. Dr. Abbott, I don't want you to think
Donnatella is a bad girl. She's really not.  I don't think she can
help herself when it comes to the lying. She just seems to get herself
into situations and then she has to lie her way out of them. And I
think her need for attention came from the fact that my husband's
parents spoiled her rotten."

Barbara made another note in Donna's file, this one about her
grandparents. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Moss." With that, she
hung up the phone and tossing her glasses on the desk, she rubbed her
hands over her face.

A picture began to emerge in Barbara's mind. For some reason, Donna
had been crying out for help, not attention, and because that had been
ignored or missed, she'd ended up somehow picking up the cutting as a
method of dealing with whatever pain she'd been carrying around. Then
when the cutting had been revealed, her mother hadn't sought help for
Donna. She'd made her tend her own wounds and locked her in a closet.
And now, 22 years later, she'd been brutalized by a new monster.
Barbara's heart broke for the child and ached for the woman the child
had become.

Every single thing Donna's mother had just told her contradicted what
she'd seen in the hospital today and virtually everything that
everyone, including Stanley, had said about Donna. They'd all
described Donna as well-adjusted, loving, quirky, honest, dedicated,
loyal, and kind. It often amazed Barbara how one child could come out
of an abusive, neglectful home, broken and ready to pass on the legacy
of anger and fear to society and to the next generation and yet
another child could come out of a similar situation for the most part
whole and with an overwhelming aversion to the horrors of their past.
It was those children who were a testament to the resiliency of the
human mind and spirit. From everything she'd seen and heard about
Donna, she fell into the latter category.

And it made Barbara more determined than ever to help her.

**********

The next morning Donna sat in her hospital bed, flipping through TV
channels. It was almost 10 and there really wasn't anything on worth
watching. She settled on Headline News and laid back in bed, trying to
get comfortable. Between her leg and her I.V., it wasn't very easy.

Not wanting to risk putting any undue pressure on her leg by
accidentally rolling over it in the night, Josh had spent the night in
the room's second bed. Thankfully they'd both made it through the
night without nightmares or other incidents. Donna attributed it to
the residual valium in her system. They'd shared a quick breakfast,
consisting of toast and coffee that he'd managed to procure from the
cafeteria to save her from the breakfast tray they would have
eventually brought her. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the
effort that went into putting together breakfast tray, but she just
didn't think that eggs, scrambled or otherwise, should smell like
feet. After breakfast, Josh had gone home to shower and change before
heading back to the White House and morning senior staff. On his way
out the door, Josh had promised to bring her something special for
lunch.

Donna was just considering how she was going to keep from going stir
crazy until Josh came by with lunch when there was a knock at the
door. She knew there was a plain-clothes Secret Service agent
stationed outside her door to keep out anyone who might wander by, so
if someone was knocking at her closed door, it must be someone that
was supposed to be there.  "Come in," she called.

The door swung open and Barbara poked her head in. "Hi, Donna.  You up
for some company?"

"Hey, Barbara. Sure," she said, flipping off the TV and trying to
smile but failing. She had no illusions about the fact this 'visit'
was basically going to be therapy. And after the way things had gone
with Dr. Todd and the last time she'd tried therapy, she was
apprehensive to say the least. But after Barbara had probably saved
her life and her sanity yesterday, Donna felt that she could at least
give therapy another try.  Plus there was that whole "I want to be
normal again" thing. If Barbara could help her with that, then it
would all be worth it. Not to mention the fact that she'd promised
Josh.

Barbara closed the door to Donna's room behind her and pulling a chair
up by the bed, set her large tote bag on it. "Well, how are you
feeling today, Donna?"

"Okay.  I'm okay."

Barbara smiled at her. "Donna, my dear, I have to tell you, that
wasn't very convincing. Why don't you take another crack at it and
tell me how you're really feeling."

Donna sighed a bit. "Well, before you came I was feeling pretty bored.
But now that your here I'm feeling pretty nervous."

"Well, bored I can understand. Hospitals are not big on stimulation.
Gives you incentive to go home that much sooner. That and being able
to sleep through the night without someone coming in to prod you to
take medication or to take your temperature or take your blood. The
time or two I've been a patient in a hospital I hardly slept a wink."
She paused a second. "But why are you nervous?  I didn't even wear my
intimidating clothes or anything," she said taking a step back so
Donna could get a look at what she was wearing. Well-worn jeans, red
high-top sneakers, a white turtleneck, and a navy blue sweatshirt
bearing the logo for Stanford University in California. "See?"

'Well, she has a point there,' Donna thought. Her outfit was about as
far from threatening as you could get. "I guess I'm just nervous about
having someone poking around inside my head," Donna replied.

"Oh, wait," Barbara said.  "Don't tell me..." she began rummaging
around in her tote bag.  "Well, it's not here," she said, snapping her
fingers and looking at Donna in dismay.

"What?"

"My head-poking stick. I must have left it in the car," she teased.
"Donna, look, I'm not going to 'poke around in your head.' We're just
going to talk.  I can't make you tell me what you don't want to tell
me. But I am a good listener and I'm good at putting puzzles together
and right now it sounds like you need help with some personal puzzles.
So what do you say? Wanna talk?"

Donna looked at her a moment.  So far this therapy was going very
differently than her session with Dr. Todd. "Okay." Then she smirked
slightly, "You have intimidating clothes?

Pleased to see they'd managed their first hurdle, Barbara grinned,
"Oh, honey, please.  I've got outfits that make grown men cry for
their mothers. I've got this one red suit that I wear when I have to
give a lecture to groups of mostly male, egomaniac doctors. Gets them
every time. Don't you have any outfits that you wear because not only
do they make you feel confident but people seem to give you just a
little more respect when you wear them?"

Donna thought for a minute, "Well, now that you mention it, I do have
this plum colored suit that I have when I want to make a good
impression."

"Plum, yes! Anything with a good cut and a strong color usually fits
the bill." She paused for a minute.  "Now, why don't we get
acquainted? Hmmm? I may not have my head-poking stick but I do have
something better,"  She reached into her bag and pulled out a square
plastic container which she set on the bed table. "Homemade cookies,"
she said pulling off the lid. "Chocolate chip or peanut butter. I
wasn't sure which ones you'd like best so I brought both and what's
better with cookies....." she reached in again and pulled out a large
thermos, a box of assorted tea bags and two mugs. "Than tea?" she
said, setting everything next to the cookies.  "Tea and cookies,
either I'm English or I've never grown out of that tea party phase I
went through when I was 6."

Donna's mouth watered at the idea of the cookies and some fragrant hot
tea. Barbara poured them both a mug of steaming hot water. Donna
dropped a tea bag into the water and selected a chocolate chip cookie.
Taking a bite, the treat nearly melted in her mouth.  "Oh, Barbara
these are amazing. When do you have time to bake?"

Barbara put a tea bag in her mug, pulled a small pad out and then set
her bag on the floor by the chair. "Well, I have a confession. I
didn't make them."

"But you said they were homemade."

"Ah, yes, but I didn't say whose home made them. Actually there is the
sweetest little old lady in my building and all she likes to do it
bake.  She can't get out much though so she has me keep her stocked
with ingredients and she keeps me stocked with baked goods.  All in
all it's a very co-dependent relationship," she said with a smile as
she sat down in the chair.

"So," she said, taking a sip of her tea. "Here's a little bit about
me." Picking up a peanut butter cookie she took a bite.  "I grew up in
California, in the Bay area. I went to Stanford University," she said,
pointing to her sweatshirt with her cookie.  "I did my undergrad, my
pre-med, and my M.D. there.  Then I moved on to Johns Hopkins
University Hospital. That worked for a while but I felt like I wanted
a new challenge so I went back to school at Johns Hopkins and got my
Ph.D. in psychology and have been doing that ever since."

"How long's that?" Donna asked, taking a sip of her tea.

"About 10 years. Although I'm still licensed to practice medicine and
I have hospital privileges at GW and Johns Hopkins, I rarely use my
medical degree when it's not in conjunction with one of my therapy
patients."

"How do you know Stanley?" Donna asked.

"A number of years ago I started working with the American Trauma
Victims Association and I met Stanley through that."

Donna felt herself beginning to really trust this woman. She fiddled
with a corner of her cookie, "Do you really think you can help me?"
she asked her quietly.

Barbara watched her, "Donna, I'm not going to lie to you. You seem
like a person who values honesty." That was her truthful opinion and
she didn't care what Brenda Moss claimed.  "Just like with a regular
medical doctor who has a patient that's in pain, I'm going to ask
questions and we're going to have to do some tests and exploration.
Some of the time the questions and the tests and the cure can hurt
almost as much as the original illness. But to coin one of Stanley's
favorite phrases, "we get better." And I honestly think that I can
help you.  But to do that, I'm going to need you to be honest with me.
Like any doctor, everything you say to me is confidential. No one but
you and me will know what we talk about.  Okay?"

Donna looked at her for a moment. "Okay," she replied with a nod. "How
often do you think we'll need to meet?"

"Well, Donna, see, I'm a little unconventional when it comes to
sessions. It's just how I work. I'm about the least rigid person
you'll ever meet. I don't believe in one-hour, neat little sessions.
It takes as long as it takes. Which is why I restrict myself to having
only a certain number of active patients at any one time and when I
schedule appointments I set aside at least a three-hour block. It
might not take that long but I've found it's better to have extra
time, instead of shoving the patient out the door when they're not
ready because their hour is up and the next patient is waiting.

In fact, and you can even ask Stanley about this, there's a trend in
therapy, especially trauma therapy, right now to get away from
structured, long-term therapy sessions. Each person has different
needs. Some take small amounts of therapy to sort of get them on the
right track and then follow-up visits as needed if a problem or crisis
arises. Then others do benefit from a more structured, long-term
approach. It really just depends on the needs of the individual."

Donna remember Josh's all day session with Stanley on Christmas Eve
Day. "And where do you think I fall?" Donna asked her.

"Well, I'm just getting to know you and what your needs are but for
right now I thought we'd start with three times this week, then maybe
twice a week for the next two weeks and then we'll see how you're
doing. But that's not set in stone. It will all depend on how we both
feel you're doing. How does that sound?"

Donna looked at her for a minute, "Do-able."

Barbara smiled.  "Good, now have another cookie and tell me about yourself."

Donna smiled and pulled out a peanut butter cookie. "Well, I grew up
in Wisconsin, which is where my parents still live. I went to the
University of Wisconsin but I dropped out after two years. Then I
decided I needed a change and when I saw the President, oh, he was the
Governor of New Hampshire back then, give a speech, I packed up my car
and drove to Nashua. I joined the campaign by hiring myself as Josh's
assistant. That was nearly 7 year ago and I came to DC after the
President won the election to work in the White House as Josh's senior
assistant."

Barbara made a note about the fact that Donna had largely skipped over
her childhood in Wisconsin but they'd be getting to that soon enough
so she decided not to comment on it right then.  "Why'd you drop out
of college?"

"To support my deadbeat boyfriend."

Barbara looked at her for a beat, "Older than you?"  Donna nodded.
"Doctor or lawyer?" she asked.

Donna remembered Josh asking her the same exact question when he'd
hired her, "Doctor. Josh calls him 'Dr. Freeride.'"

Barbara had just taken a drink of tea and nearly snorted it out her
nose. "Okay, Donna," she said, coughing a bit. "You need to tell me
when you're going to say things like that." She chuckled.  "Dr.
Freeride, huh?  That's a good one."

"Yeah," Donna said with a bit of smile. "Although when he first said
it, I didn't think it was so funny.  I felt pretty stupid."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I saw a lot of it when I was
in med school and during my residency. You weren't the first and you
won't be the last. Did you love him?"

Donna looked at her for a minute, "You know, at the time I thought I did."

"And now?"

Donna realized that her mind had almost automatically turned to Josh.
As if he was the yard stick by which the history of her love life
should be measured. But why would that be? She didn't love him like
that anymore....did she? "And now.....now I guess I realize that I
didn't know much about love then. It was more like I trying to prove I
loved him. Trying to prove my worth to him or something. Trying to be
valuable I guess....." she trailed off. The realization hit her then.

Barbara saw the slightly shocked look on her face, "Donna? What is it, dear?"

Donna laid her head back against the pillow. "That's just what I said
to Josh the day I met him. I said he might find me valuable." She
looked at Barbara. "What does that mean?"

"At the risk of sounding like a therapist, what do you think it means?"

Donna looked at her for a moment, "I guess it means I try hard to
convince others that I'm valuable."

"Why do you suppose that is?" Barbara asked her.

"I guess it's because...because...I haven't always felt that way,"
Donna finished, very, very softly.

Although she already knew the answer she asked anyway, "Donna, who
made you feel like weren't valuable?"

Donna thought of her parents, her mother especially. "I....can't we
talk about something else?"

"Why?" Barbara asked gently.

"Because I don't want to lie to you and I don't want to tell you what
I'm thinking," she said.

"Well, I appreciate you not wanting to lie to me, Donna.  But don't
you think you'll feel better if you tell me what you're thinking?"

"No, I'll just feel guilty," Donna replied.

"Guilty?  Why?"

"Because...because she's....." Despite her efforts to hold it in, the
word still slid from between her lips. "My mother."

Barbara stood up, "Donna, take a breath.  It's okay. No one's going to
hurt you or judge you or say you're wrong or....that you're lying."

Donna's head snapped up to look at her, "How...how did you know?"

Barbara sighed a little. She hadn't planned to tell Donna because she
was afraid that Donna would not appreciate her doing it, but now she
felt like she had no choice. "Okay, Donna.  Now, it's my turn not to
lie to you. As background for our visit today, I called your mother
and talked to her." Barbara cursed herself silently as she saw the
pain and withdrawal in Donna's eyes and in her posture.

Donna remembered Stanley talking to all of them before he met with
Josh at Christmas, but it didn't matter.  The feeling of betrayal cut
deeply through her. "I think you better go now," Donna said quietly,
pulling the sheets up higher and turning her face away from Barbara.
"I'm tired."

"Donna?" Barbara said, very quietly.  "Aren't you going to let me
finish?" Donna didn't respond but Barbara went ahead anyway. "Did you
think that I was going to believe her instead of you? I don't.
Everyone else I've talked to, Stanley, Sam, CJ, Leo, the President and
the First Lady, and especially Josh, all said the exact opposite of
what she said.  But even if they hadn't, I'd still believe you.
You've given me no reason not to."

"Did she tell you about the closet?" Donna said, without moving or
looking at Barbara.

"Yes, she did."

"She'd lock me in there for hours," Donna said quietly.

"I can't even imagine how terrible it was for you."

"I'm not a liar." A tear, the first her eyes had felt in a very long
time, trailed out of her eye and into her hair.  "I mean I'm no saint.
I've told lies like anyone else, especially since the attack, but she
seemed to think everything out of my mouth was a lie."

"I know she did."

Donna finally looked at Barbara, "Why couldn't she believe me?

"I don't know, Donna.  I don't have answer for you."

The silent tears began to run in earnest. "Why does she hate me?"

"Oh, Donna," Barbara said, laying her hand gently over Donna's.  "I
don't think she hates you. I think she's just angry and self-absorbed
and she just doesn't understand you. And that's her loss," she gave
Donna's hand a squeeze. "Because from what all your friends say you're
intelligent and kind and funny and loyal and brave. They all love you
very much. If you remember anything I tell you, remember that you ARE
valuable and worthy and loved by those around you."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 27 - MATURE



"Josh, I'm fine. Really.  Go to work already," Donna told him. She'd
had a rough night and he was hovering and generally getting on her
nerves. Her first session with Barbara yesterday had apparently opened
the flood gates for all kinds of things.  In addition to her crying
jag with Barbara, Donna had a nightmare about the barn again last
night. Thankfully, Josh had woken her up before she'd started
screaming and woken up the whole hospital. Of course, as usual, she'd
been violently ill and while she'd managed to get to the bathroom in
time, she'd pulled her i.v. out and Josh had managed to call a nurse
to put it back in before nearly passing out from seeing the blood. It
had been a fun night all the way around.

Josh, who was sitting on the other bed, looked up from the briefing
memo he was reading. "I know you are," he replied, then looked at his
watch. "I've got a few more minutes."

"Knock, knock," came a voice from the doorway.

"Barbara?" Donna said in surprise. "What are you doing here?" She
looked at Josh, who had quietly started packing up his things. "Did he
call you?"

"Hey, Barbara. Yeah, I called her," Josh said, slipping into his coat.
"You can be mad at me if you want but I care about you and I'm worried
about you and I want you to talk to her about it."

"Fine, whatever. Don't you have a country to run or something?" she
snarled at him.

Josh lifted his bag over his shoulder. He tried not to let her angry
words stab at him. "Yeah." Quietly, his shoulders slumped, he shuffled
from the room.

"Bye, Josh," Barbara said as he left the room.

"He shouldn't have called you. You were supposed to come tomorrow, not
today. He has no sense of order."

"Well, hello Mary Sunshine, I'm happy to see you're in such a good
mood this morning."

"I'm fine," Donna said, her arms folded across her chest. The hand
with her new i.v. in it was on top.

Barbara looked at her for a moment. "Well, dear, your mood and the
hand you tore your i.v. out of last night would seem to contradict
you."

"Yeah, what you're really saying is that my mood and my hand tell you
I'm LYING," Donna replied angrily.

"Wow, you are spoiling for a fight."

Donna ran a hand roughly through her hair in frustration. "I am not!"
she insisted. "I just had a rough night!"

"So I gather.  If I looked up "got up on the wrong side of the bed,
I'd find a picture of you."

"He shouldn't have called you!" she insisted. She'd hoped to kick Josh
out so she could have some time to herself and find some outlet for
the anger that was burning away inside her, not find herself saddled
with her therapist.

Barbara could see Donna's anger bubbling right under the surface. "He
was just concerned about you."

"I don't care! I'm fine and all he can do is stick his nose in my business!"

"Donna," Barbara kept her voice calm and neutral as she felt Donna's
emotions escalate. "You know that's not true."

"He cares too damn much. He thinks he can save the world. He thinks he
can save ME!" The angry tide rose in her again, powerful and
consuming. "He'd be better off if he didn't care so much. He wouldn't
have to see me having nutties all the time!"

Everything, including Barbara seemed to slide away as the anger took
over. Ripping her pillows off the bed she heaved them across the room.
Zane followed right behind them. Then her eyes fell on the breakfast
tray in front of her and she was about to heave it onto the floor when
she saw the silverware.  There was no knife but there was a shiny,
pointy fork. Snatching it off the tray and pulling back the sheet in
one motion she moved to drag the fork across her leg. But her hand met
resistance in the form of Barbara's hand firmly holding her wrist.

"DONNA! Look at me!" her voice commanded.  Dazed, Donna looked up at
her. "What are you doing?" Barbara asked her, her voice soft this
time.

Donna looked down at the fork in her hand and then back at Barbara,
"I....I don't know." The anger was gone and she once again felt empty.

"Put the fork back on the tray, Donna." Barbara watched as she
complied meekly. Barbara picked up the tray and took it back out into
the corridor where she put it back on the cart it had arrived in.
Taking a deep breath she went back into the room where she found Donna
out of bed with her i.v. stand, picking up the pillows and Zane from
the far corner of the room. Barbara helped her get back into bed.

"Is that what happens when you cut yourself, Donna?" Barbara asked her.

Donna looked at her a minute and then nodded. "Yes.  Maybe not quite
that bad, but yes."

"Where were you?  It was a little like you checked out on me.  Can you
tell me what was going through your mind?  What you were thinking?"
Barbara asked gently.

"Well, that's just it," Donna replied. "I wasn't thinking. It was just
anger. Rage with nowhere to go.  I think....I think it's been
simmering since last night. I had that stupid nightmare and then I got
sick and I pulled my i.v. out and Josh had to deal with all of it and
he almost passed out because he has this thing about blood."

"Why would that make you mad?"

"Because I embarrassed myself and Josh," Donna replied.

Barbara frowned, "And how did you do that exactly?"

"Everyone had to make a fuss over me. I don't want to be a burden to anyone."

"Is that how you feel?  Like a burden?"

Donna shrugged, "I guess. I mean everyone's had to make allowances for
me since the thing. They had to go to the trouble of a fake funeral.
President and Mrs. Bartlet had to make space for me in the Residence.
Josh and CJ had to get me a new apartment and then they had to move
all my old stuff. The staff at work had to pretend that Sydney wasn't
me. I threw myself at Josh. I had a nutty in the Oval Office. I got an
infection after cutting myself. You and Josh had to rescue me from the
psycho ward and Dr. Nazi. And last night I had to have another damn
nightmare. All told that sounds like I'm being a pretty big fucking
burden."

Barbara had been taking shorthand notes of each thing she'd said.
Hearing the rising tide of anger in Donna's voice again she set her
pad aside, "Donna, you're getting angry again. You're letting it
control you. You need to control it. I want you to try something. Lie
back and close your eyes," she said, lowering the bed into a flat
position. "I know it's going to sound like new age mumbo jumbo but
picture the anger and all the overwhelming feelings as a red gas. Take
a slow, deep breath and start pulling it out of your blood and your
heart and your brain, into your lungs. Then exhale and picture it
flowing out of your nose and mouth and dissipating into the air. Keep
doing that until you don't see any more red gas gathering in your
lungs.  When you can do that, open your eyes."

Although vaguely skeptical, Donna did as she asked and began to see
the anger and the hurt and anything else unpleasant moving into her
lungs and then out through her mouth and nose. By the time her lungs
were clear, the anger was gone.  She opened her eyes and looked at
Barbara who was standing by her bed, "I can't believe that worked."

"Good, but that's only the first step. Now that you're relaxed I want
you start thinking about the things that act as triggers for your
anger. This is called cognitive behavior therapy. It allows you to
separate the negative emotion from the thoughts that cause them. You
take things that normally set you off and think of them in a neutral,
calm environment.  By doing that you learn to control your reaction to
them while still allowing your self to experience the thoughts
themselves. Let's go back and briefly look at the things that you were
saying when you got angry. If at any time you feel yourself getting
angry or upset, I want you to close your eyes and use the breathing
technique you just learned.  Okay?"

Donna looked up at her, "Okay."

"Good.  Now, first you said that everyone had to make allowances for
you since the thing.  Oh, what's 'the thing' all about?" Unlike Dr.
Todd, Barbara had said it with a bit of a smirk as if she knew it was
some kind of inside joke.

Donna smiled a bit, "Oh, it's something I picked up from Josh and
Toby.  It's kind of like verbal shorthand. We end up using stuff like
that in the White House a lot."

"Okay..." Barbara said with a chuckle.  "And you guys are running the
country, right?"

"Afraid so," Donna said.

"Just checking," Barbara said.  "Now.  Back to business. These
allowances everyone is making for you. Why do you think they're making
them for you?"

"I thought I explained that with the whole 'big fucking burden'
thing." Donna looked at her a minute. "Okay, hang on." Donna closed
her eyes and took a couple of cleansing breaths. Then she opened her
eyes.

"Beside the 'burden' aspect. Why else do you think they're doing it?"
Barbara asked her.

Donna tried to think about it rationally, rather than emotionally.
"Well, I guess they could be doing it because they care about me and
they're trying to help me."

Barbara smiled, "Good, and how does that make you feel?"

"Well....it's pretty....nice. I mean that they care so much," Donna
said, feeling a touch of warmth in her heart.

"Yes, it should make you feel good. Friends are a great comfort and
when times are hard, you find out who your real ones are.  From what
I've seen, you've got a lot of real ones, Donna."

Donna couldn't help but smile. "They are pretty great, aren't they?"

"Well, I don't know many people that have friends that are good enough
to set up a fake funeral to keep their friend safe. That had to be
hard. Probably made them think about how close they came to having to
set up your real funeral."

"Yeah," Donna said softly. "It did." She remembered Josh's words that
day in the Residence about how it was hell to deal with her fake
funeral and how he couldn't take it if she died before he did. Tears
gathered in her eyes as she remembered how she'd hugged him and said
then they'd have to go together because she couldn't handle his
either.  The tears began to fall when she remembered how she'd treated
him and all but kicked her out of her room this morning.

"Donna?  What is it?" Barbara asked seeing the tears.

"I was just remembering something Josh told me when I was recovering
from the attack and about how hard he said it was to go through my
fake funeral," her voice caught on the last word. "I was so horrible
to him this morning and he's been nothing but wonderful." She said
with a half sob as she covered her eyes with her hand, trying to hold
back the tears. "I'm sorry I've been such a cry baby the last couple
days. I never cry this much."

"Donna, I want you to close your eyes and use the same breathing
exercise but think of the sadness your feeling as a blue gas. When the
air has turned clear again, I want you to open your eyes and look at
me," she waited until Donna's damp eyes opened again and looked at
her.  "Donna, I want to ask you a question.  You said you never cry
this much. How often do you cry?"

Donna looked at her a minute. "Well, I cry at sad movies on occasion,"
she said with a sniffle.

"What about other times?"

"No, not really," Donna answered.

"What about when you're by yourself?"

"No," she said. "Crying never really helps anything anyway."

"Who told you that?"

Donna thought for a minute, "My mom, I guess."

'Yeah,' Barbara thought. 'That would have been my guess.' "I don't
ever want you to apologize for crying, Donna.  Crying can be a
therapeutic release and very cleansing.  You should never feel ashamed
of crying."

"But it makes me feel vulnerable," she whispered honestly.

"It's supposed to and that's okay. But I know that you're in a very
high profile profession so if the crying in public aspect is a problem
for you, I want you to think about just crying when you're alone. Even
doing that is better than not crying at all. Promise me you'll think
about it."

"Okay, I will."

"I also want you to promise me that you'll only use that breathing
exercise when you're feeling overwhelming sadness. Not for the run of
the mill sadness stuff.  The everyday stuff you should let yourself
feel."

"Okay, I promise."

"Good.  Now where were we before we went down that detour," Barbara
said, looking at her pad.  "Oh, yes. The things that trigger your
anger. We already covered the allowances everyone has been making and
the funeral. How about what you said about the President and Mrs.
Bartlet making space for you? That was pretty nice of them to let you
stay with them. How do you feel about that?"

Donna thought about it for a minute, "It doesn't make me mad." She
paused.  "It makes me....sad." She said, tears again gathering in her
eyes.

"Why does it make you sad?"

"Because....because between them and Josh's mom, they've already been
better parents to me than my own." She looked at Barbara, "Do you know
when Leo told my parents what had happened to me they had almost
nothing to say except they wouldn't say anything to anyone if they
were asked about my 'death'? They didn't want to talk to me or ask to
see me or anything." She began crying in earnest then. "Mrs. Bartlet
came and saw me in the hospital a couple of times, went to my funeral,
and came by to see me at least twice a day in the Residence.  She made
sure I took my medicine and I ate and she got Josh when I had the
nutty in the bathroom."

Barbara made a note to come back to the bathroom 'nutty' but for now
she wanted to let Donna get it out.

"And then the President.  He was so wonderful.  He played cards with
me and let me throw M&Ms at him and told me that their home was always
open to me.  And it wasn't just in an 'I'm being polite way'. I know
he meant it.  See, the thing about President Bartlet is that he
doesn't say things he doesn't mean. Even Josh's mom, who lives in
Florida, said she was going to come up and make me matzo ball soup if
I didn't get better fast." She looked at Barbara. "If they like me,
why can't my own parents?" She finished, her hair along the sides of
her face was soaked in tears.

"Oh, Donna," Barbara said, laying her hand along the side of Donna's
face. "I can't tell you that. I wish I could, but I can't. Sometime
people just can't be what you want or need them to be. You can't
change that. You just have to try and find some way to go on without
them."

Donna, nodded, knowing she was right. That's what she'd done most of
her adult life. "Are you sure this crying thing is so great?" she
said, with half a smile. "'Cause it feels pretty rotten right about
now."

Barbara smiled down at her, "That's why they call it sadness. When it
feels good it's called happiness and there's just about no better
feeling than happy tears."

"Do you think I'll get to happy tears at some point?"

"With a little time, I can almost guarantee it," she said. "You want
to take a break, Donna?  I brought some tea. I don't have anything to
go with it though.  Mrs. Jensen was still sleeping when I left this
morning and didn't want to disturb her."

Donna took a breath and felt some of the sadness subside. "No, I want
some tea but I want to get through this first."

"Well, Donna, I gotta say, you've got guts. I've had grown men in the
fetal position by now."

Donna smiled at her, with eyes still a bit damp, "Yeah, well the
morning is still young."

"Oh, and she's got a sense of humor too," Barbara said with a grin as
she handed her a tissue to blow her nose. "Okay, back to work.  Let's
see, oh wait, I want to back up a minute.  What did you mean when you
said Mrs. Bartlet got Josh when you had a 'nutty' in the bathroom?"

"Oh, that. I sort of flipped out when I saw my burn on my hip for the
first time."

"What do you mean? What happened?" Barbara asked.

"It's hard to describe. Mrs. Bartlet was changing the bandage on it
and I got up to look at it in the mirror and everything kind of faded
away. The next thing I remember, was waking up on the floor of the
bathroom with Josh there talking to me.  I think having him there was
what brought me out of it."

"Did it happen again?"

"No. Just that one time, well except for what happened in the Oval but
since that was on my list I assume we'll get to that."

"Oh, okay." Barbara said, making a couple of notes and putting a star
next to the entry she had for the 'nutty' in the Oval Office. "How do
you feel about the nutty in the bathroom? Does it make you feel mad or
anything?"

She thought for a second. "No," Donna answered. "I guess it's was kind
of embarrassing but Josh was there and no one else really saw but Mrs.
Bartlet and some of the Secret Service so it was okay."

"All right, well, moving on then," Barbara said. "Sam and Josh had to
get you a new apartment and move all your stuff. Tell me about that."

"Well, Sam was visiting and he and Josh knew that I didn't want to go
back to my old apartment but I needed a place to live once I got out
of the Residence so they found me a new place and Sam did most of the
moving. It's a great apartment too.  I just feel badly that that they
had to do it," Donna explained.

"Why do you feel bad? You were still injured right?"

"Yes. But...."

"But....?" Barbara asked.

"Well, if the attack hadn't happened then they wouldn't have had to do it."

"But it did happen. There's no changing that."

"That's just it.  Maybe if I'd just changed something. Done something
different..." she said quietly.

"Donna," Barbara said, sternly. "The attack was NOT your fault.

"But...."

"It's NOT your fault. Not for any reason you can name," Barbara told her.

"But don't you see, this is what always happens," Donna told her. "I
seem to attract men that want to hurt me. First Freeride, then Cliff,
then Jack and now the strangler." Almost automatically, Donna closed
her eyes and started breathing.  Gathering the red gas and expelling
it away.

Barbara didn't know who Cliff and Jack were but she assumed they'd
constituted two more bad relationships in her adult past. She waited
until Donna had finished relaxing her breathing and opened her eyes
again. "What about Josh?"

"What about him?"

"Does he want to hurt you?" Barbara asked.

"No, of course not. He's my best friend."

"But he's a man. If we follow your line of reasoning he's out to get you too."

"Don't say that. He's not like that," Donna said vehemently.

Barbara sighed, "No, of course he's not. What I'm trying to do is show
you that while you've made some bad choices with men in the past,
you're not a walking bad man attractant. You do know good, decent men.
 Men like Josh and the President and Leo.  I doubt they'd do anything
to hurt you."

Donna thought about that for a moment, automatically adding Sam and
Toby to the 'good men' list. "I guess you do have a point."

"Well, that's good to know. I like to be right once in a while,"
Barbara said with a little smirk. "Now, you said the staff at work had
to pretend that Sydney wasn't you. Why does that upset you?"

"One thing you have to understand is that everyone in the White House
works really hard. I mean really hard.  Overtime is a weekly, if not
daily occurrence.  We're under enormous pressure. Plus we do it in the
spotlight of the Press. I just didn't want to be something that
further added to that burden," Donna explained.

"Well, but shouldn't you let your co-workers decide that?"

"It wasn't like they had a choice. Once we told the Press that I was
dead they pretty much had to do it to make sure the administration was
protected," Donna pointed out.

"Okay, fair point, but they had it easy, don't you think? They weren't
the one that had to dress up and be someone else like you did."

"I guess," Donna answered.

"How did you feel about being Sydney, Donna?"

"It was...she was....necessary," Donna replied.

"Donna, cut the crap. Stop giving me the party line," Barbara demanded.

"I HATED it, okay!  Is that what you wanted to hear?  I hated every
minute that I had to be her. Every time I had to put her on, I had to
resist the urge to put everything in a the middle of the floor and set
it on fire." Donna closed her eyes and did the breathing exercise
until the anger and frustration passed.

"Good. I'm glad," Barbara told her when Donna opened her eyes. "In my
book, you should never be anyone but yourself.

"But my mother would have been proud. Sydney was mousy and plain just
like she always wanted me to be."

"I'm glad you're not like that and I'd be willing to bet that your
friends are glad too. Because I keep hearing from them how quirky and
smart you are," Barbara told her.

"Really?"

"I told you I wouldn't lie to you," Barbara said with a smile.

Donna smiled. "I really do have great friends, don't I?"

"That's what I keep trying to tell you. Okay.  Next. Um..you threw
yourself at Josh? Care to explain that one?" Barbara asked.

"Not especially.  Can't I pass on that one? Kind of like a freebie?"

"Nope, sorry. There are no freebies in therapy. Hey, I should put that
on my business card." She looked down at Donna.  "Now spill it."

"I had a nightmare. Josh was there to wake me up and I sort of
propositioned him."

"Why did you proposition him?" Barbara asked.

"I don't exactly know," Donna said.

"What was the dream about?"

"I don't remember exactly. It was something about my mother and the
closet. What I remember is waking up and feeling really empty but Josh
was there. He woke me up and he held me. Then I don't know, I was
kissing him and telling him that I wanted something to help me feel
again. Something to help fill the emptiness," Donna tried to explain.

"Why Josh? Were you intimate with him before?"

"NO! It's never been like that between us.  He doesn't love me like
that.  He's just my best friend.  I used to have feelings like that
for him but not...anymore....not since....the attack." She paused.
"It doesn't matter anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because he deserves someone that's whole and strong and not broken."

"Sounds like you fit the bill to me," Barbara said.

"How can you say that after everything we've talked about?"

"I can say it exactly because of what we've talked about today. Donna,
you've got to give yourself a break. You've been through a lot. I have
a feeling that with some time those feelings for him will come back."

"I don't want them to," Donna said quietly.

"Why not?"

"Because it was hard when... before....our jobs got in the way. He's
my boss. It hurt. A lot. I couldn't have been with him even if he'd
had feelings for me."

From what Barbara had seen of Donna's interactions with Josh, it was
plain to see that they were very good friends. But it was even more
apparent that they each had deeper feelings for the other. "Out of
curiosity, what did he do when you propositioned him?"

"Do I have to tell you?  It's so mortifying."

"All the more reason to get it off your chest," Barbara told her.

The words tumbled out of her. "He told me he couldn't, we couldn't.
That it wasn't right. He said that he loved me and what I was trying
to do had nothing to do with sex and was about me trying to find
something to dull the pain."

Barbara's already good opinion of Josh rose sharply. It must have
taken a lot for him to resist her. "Well, thank God for Josh." Barbara
look at her a moment. "You said he didn't love you, but you just said
he told you he loved you."

"Yeah, he loved me so much he wouldn't have sex with me when I begged
him to," she said.

Barbara looked at her for a moment. "Yes, Donna. He loved you SO much
that he wouldn't have sex with you when you begged him to. Have you
stopped to think about how hard that must have been for him? There
aren't many guys who can resist a woman that needs them that badly,
even if it means that giving in will be worse than not giving in."

"Why would it have been worse?" Donna asked her.

"Can you honestly tell me that if Josh had given in and had sex with
you that the next morning, in the cold light of day, when nothing had
really changed in your relationship, that you wouldn't have hated
yourself for begging him AND hated him for giving in.  That you
wouldn't have thought he'd taken advantage of you at a weak moment?"

Donna thought about it for a minute. "I guess I never looked at it
like that," she said, softly.

"Well, I think you might want to," Barbara said.

"That was the first time I cut myself," she said, softly

"Was it because of the thing with Josh?"

"Yeah. God, I was SO mortified that I'd done that. It was SO pathetic!
I mean I begged him for pity sex for God sakes!" She felt the tide
rise in her again, so she closed her eyes and began breathing again.
It took a few minutes but the feelings finally subsided. When she
opened her eyes again, she saw Barbara looking down with her.

"You're getting really good with the breathing, Donna. You're a quick
study," Barbara commented. "Um, if I can make a suggestion though, but
you might want to think about apologizing to Josh for the way you
acted this morning. His head was dragging pretty low when he left this
morning."

"Yeah, I know. I was pretty terrible to him," Donna agreed.

"Now, let's move on to the next one," she looked at her list.  "Tell
me about the nutty....wait, where the heck did 'nutty' come from?"

Donna smiled a bit, "I think Sam was the first one that used it. Or
maybe it was Ainsley Hayes. I don't remember but we sort of picked it
up and we use it to describe a meltdown of some kind."

"Oh-kay," Barbara said. "You guys are really expanding my vocabulary.
Okay so tell me about the 'nutty' in the Oval Office."

"The President was smoking a cigarette and I smelled it and poof.  I
was out. The next thing I know Mrs. Bartlet is waving smelling salts
under my nose."

"So cigarette smoke is a trigger for you." Barbara said.

"Yeah, that's about what I thought," Donna replied.

"Why do you think that is?"

"I assume that it's because of the burn on my hip. When I smelled the
smoke it was more than that," she swallowed.  "It was more
like....burning skin."

"Close you eyes, Donna, and just breathe," Barbara told her.

Donna laid there for a moment, concentrating on her breathing, then
she opened her eyes and looked at Barbara. "That's the second time I
cut myself," she told her quietly.

"What kind of thoughts and feelings triggered it that time?"

"Well, see Sydney had been a bit of a shield for me. Sometimes it was
easier to control my emotions when I was her. But that day it hadn't
helped and when I got home after the thing in the Oval, I got really
mad at her because she hadn't helped me hold it together.  I couldn't
rip the outfit off of me fast enough. And just like the first time I
cut myself, I was embarrassed and mortified that I had done such a
thing and then I got really angry.  I was also upset because of the
pregnancy thing."

Barbara's head snapped up, "Pregnancy thing?"

"Oh, it was nothing," Donna assured her.  "When I passed out in the
Oval and then threw up, oh, yeah, as if fainting in the Oval wasn't
bad enough, when I woke up I threw up too." She closed her eyes and
took two cleansing breaths.  "So anyway, when I told Mrs. Bartlet I'd
been throwing up a lot she asked me if I could be pregnant. Between
the stress and the weight loss I've had and the fact that my periods
have always been so erratic, I really didn't know, so over the weekend
I took a pregnancy test, well, four of them actually and they were all
negative. But that day the possible pregnancy scare only added to my
frustration."

"Oh," Barbara said. "Okay."

"And that cut was the one that got infected. Which put me in the
psycho ward under Dr. Nazi's gentle care."

"Dr. Nazi?" Barbara asked.

"Josh's name for Dr. Todd."

Barbara smirked, "It suits her."

Donna smiled a bit.  "I know, that's just what I thought." She
sobered.  "Then last night I had that stupid nightmare and this
morning I was embarrassed because I had the nightmare and got sick and
pulled out my i.v. and then I was embarrassed because Josh had to call
you." She paused. "I guess it all made me mad." She paused. "I just
wish Josh didn't worry about me so much."

"He's your friend. What's wrong with him worrying about you? I always
thought that was a friend's job."

"It is, I guess. It's just kind of embarrassing."

"You know, Donna, it occurs to me that you seem awfully worried being
embarrassed. You just used the word 'embarrassed' three times in the
last few sentences. Why do you suppose that is?"

Donna thought for a minute, "Well, I have to always be strong and if
I'm an embarrassment then I can't do that. "

"Why do you always have to be strong?  Who says?" Barbara shot back.

"I guess I do."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she honestly. "I guess it goes back to the whole
wanting to be valuable thing."

"Yes, I suppose it does," Barbara answered. "Donna, the nightmare you
had last night. Was it like the one that you had, you know, that night
with Josh?"

Donna shook her head.  "No.  I only had that dream once.  The one I
normally have is like the one last night."

"What's it about?"

Donna rubbed her head which was beginning to throb a bit, "It's hard
to remember but it's really dark and there's a dog and a barn." She
looked up at Barbara.  "But I've never lived on a farm or been in a
barn.  My parents and I lived in a condo when I was growing up. I
guess it's a metaphor or something."

'A barn? A farm?' Barbara thought. Donna's mother had mentioned
something about a farm.  Donna's aunt and uncle's farm. Barbara
wondered if there was a connection. "I guess it could be a metaphor,"
she told Donna.  "Let me see if I my little book here gives us any
usable ideas," she said, reaching into her bag and rooting around
until she pulled out a small book, about the size of a pocket
dictionary.

"What is that?" Donna asked.

"My pocket dream dictionary. Let's see....barn. Ah, yes, here it is:

To see a barn in your dream signifies feelings kept in your
unconscious. There is a possibility that you may be holding back your
instinctual action or natural urges.'

And as for darkness," she said, flipping through the pages.  "Here we go:

'To dream that darkness comes upon you, signifies failure in work you
may attempt. Darkness is synonymous with ignorance, the unconscious,
evil, death, and fear of the unknown.

To dream that you are lost in the darkness, denotes feelings of
desperation, depression, or insecurity.'"

"Well, they all seem pretty much like what I feel in my dreams," Donna
commented.

"Okay, now while dreams often are metaphoric, rather than literal, I'd
also like you to keep something in mind," Barbara said to her.

"What's that?"

"That your dreams could also be memories trying to make their way to
the surface."

Donna looked at her for a minute. "Memories of what?"

"You're the only one who has the answer to that, Donna."

**********

Josh idly looked through a report on his desk. He was having a lot of
trouble concentrating. The things with Donna, the nightmare from last
night and her anger from this morning were conspiring against him. The
phone on his desk rang.

"Josh Lyman."

"Mr. Lyman, this is Ken at the front gate.  There's someone here to
see you. Says her name is Dr. Barbara Abbott?"

"Really?"

"Yes, sir."

"Um, okay Ken, could you please have her escorted to the northwest
lobby? I'll meet her there and have her sign in as my guest."

"Very well, sir."

Josh got up and walked out to the lobby to wait for her. 'What could
she want?' he wondered. He hoped nothing was wrong with Donna. A few
minutes later, she came through the door with a guard at her side. "Hi
Barbara," Josh said as he dismissed the guard and led Barbara to the
desk to sign in. Once they had her properly logged in, Josh took her
to his office and closed the door.

He sat down on the corner of his desk. "It everything all right,
Barbara? I mean Donna's okay, right?"

"Yes, Josh. She and I talked a couple of things through. I just left
her. Actually Sam had just gotten there and they were going to play
backgammon, I think.  Normally I wouldn't have disturbed you here at
work but I wanted to talk to you about this morning. You seemed a bit
out of sorts when you left."

"Well, I was worried about Donna,"  he said, relaxing a little, now
that he knew that Donna was okay.

"I know you were." She paused. "Josh, you know I can't elaborate on
what Donna and I talk about during our sessions, but there's is
something I'd like to tell you. To prepare you for."

"Prepare me for?"

"You know from what you and I have already talked about that there are
a lot of things going on inside of Donna. A lot of things she's
repressing and not dealing with."

"Right," Josh agreed.

"As she remembers and begins to deal with them there are going to be
consequences for those around her. At least in the short term.  It's
most likely, that she's going to be all over the map emotionally. She
may be mad for no reason and take it out on you. The people closest to
us are often the handiest targets. She may cry for no reason or cry
harder than you think she should.  But it's important that you let her
cry. The crying is going to provide a vent for some of the things
she's going through. In fact, short of her being physically violent
with you, which I don't expect, it's imperative that you be there and
be supportive for whatever emotion or mood swing she's going through.
I have a feeling she may try to push you away.  You can't let her."
She paused and pulled something out of her pocket. "If either of you
has any questions, any questions at all, here's my card. The number on
there will reach me day or night." She rose from her chair.  "That's
all I wanted to tell you.  I just didn't want to do it over the
phone."

Josh stood and took the card from her, "I appreciate that, Barbara.
Thank you." He reached out and shook hands with her.

Barbara moved to the door.  Laying her hand on the knob she turned
back to him. "Oh, and Josh, you've both had a long day, why don't you
take her something nice for dinner. Her favorite pizza or fast food.
Whatever. The food at GW sucks." With a smile she opened the door and
headed back to the lobby.

**********

Donna was sitting up in bed watching TV. It was already 7 and she
wondered if Josh was going to make an appearance at some point. Maybe
she'd pushed him too hard this time. She tried not to let that thought
fester. Instead she focused in on the episode of Wheel of Fortune that
was on. The clue was 'Song Title.'

"LOVE WILL KEEP US TOGETHER," she called out to the TV as she figured
out the puzzle.

"It has so far," Josh said, standing in the doorway with a grin on his face.

She looked at him and smiled.  "I should go on that show, you know. I'd win."

"You just want to raid Vanna's closet," Josh said, still standing in
the doorway.

"Maybe I just have a twisted, secret lust thing for Pat Sajack."

"Nah, not possible. He's a Republican," he said, enjoying their
banter. "Oh say, I come bearing gifts." He held up his offerings.

"Oh, Josh," was all she could manage to say.  In one hand he was
clutching a huge bouquet of yellow and white daisies and in the other
was a large white bag bearing the name of "Tio Marco's," her favorite
Mexican restaurant. Now she was glad she hadn't been able to force
down what the hospital had tried to pass off as her dinner that night.

"The flowers are because I wanted to say I was sorry that I called
Barbara without telling you this morning." He said handing them to
her, "I knew you'd tell me not to call her but I really wanted you to
talk to her about the nightmares."

Donna held the flowers up to her cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry
for.  I overreacted.  You were absolutely right to call her. Now, bend
down here."

He frowned in confusion but complied.  She kissed him on the cheek.
"What was that for?" he asked her.

"That was me apologizing for being so mean and terrible to you this
morning," she said.

"You weren't terrible," he grinned. "You were mean, but not terrible."

"Thanks a lot," she said, swatting him playfully on the arm.  "What's
in the bag?" she said innocently.

"Bag? What bag?" He looked at the white paper sack. "Oh, THIS bag.
Well, this bag is because I knew you wouldn't eat the slop they try to
pass off as food in this place.  As for what's actually IN this
bag....let's see, it's got 'Tio Marco's' on it.  I'm sure it's full of
rocks or something." He smirked at her and set it on the bed table.
"As if you didn't know from the smell." He started to pull things out
of the bag. "It's contains an order of your favorite, cheese
enchiladas, and an order of my favorite, chicken tamales, and includes
a large side of refried beans, Spanish rice, chips and their homemade
salsa. Oh, and for dessert....." He reached into his pocket and pulled
out a bottle. "Cherry flavored Maalox."

The Secret Service agent on duty out in the hall smiled ever so
slightly as he heard the happy sound of the rooms two occupants
laughter as it floated out of the room.  Pulling the door to their
room all the way closed, he went back to his stern, silent vigil.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 28 - MATURE



Josh gathered up the last of the empty containers and threw them in
the trash. "Well, how was dinner?" he asked her as he pulled off his
shoes and set them under the chair. He was already missing his coat,
jacket and tie. All of which he'd discarded after setting out the
food.

She took a drink of water to wash down the last trace of the enchilada
sauce left in her mouth. "Terrific as usual. I love Tio Marco's."

"I know you do," he said, rolling up his sleeves. He tried to think of
a way to put off what he needed to talk to her about, but wasn't
really coming up with anything. They'd just had a nice dinner, during
which they'd talked about the goings on at the White House in the few
days she'd been gone. He'd brought her get well wishes from all the
Senior Staff and the assistants at the White House. Most of the
assistants didn't know what had really happened in the Oval on Friday
or about the fact that Donna was in the hospital. Outside of Josh,
Sam, CJ, Leo, Ron, Abbey and Jed, the only ones who knew about it were
Debbie, Charlie, and Toby.

"How's Harley?" she asked, sensing that Josh had something on his mind
and trying to give him a minute to work it out.

Josh flashed her a little smirk. "He's great, I looked in on him
today.  I think he misses you, though. Which reminds me I brought
something else." He moved over to where he'd laid his coat and started
going through the pockets.  "I know I put it somewhere.....
wait....here it is."  He pulled something out and walking over, handed
it to her.

It was a Polaroid picture of Harley. He was mugging shamelessly for
the camera, a suspiciously familiar red rubber lump in his mouth.
"Josh? Is that another one of Toby's red rubber balls?"

Josh grinned.  "Yeah."

"You haven't been encouraging him to keep stealing them, have you?" she asked.

He held up his hands in defense.  "Hey, it wasn't me."

"Well, then who?"

"Toby."

"Toby?  Toby's been encouraging Harley to steal his red rubber balls?"
she asked, baffled.

Josh smirked, "Not exactly.  He went out yesterday and got a box of 12
balls. He goes out to the kennel for about an hour and throws that
ball for Harley. I think he's trying to do his part to look after
Harley while you're in here and see to it that he gets enough
exercise. I'm not sure which one of them enjoys it more.  Today, Sam
and I hid behind some bushes and watched him.  They have a lot of fun.
 Toby actually has these long discussions with Harley about whatever
he's working on at the moment. Harley's kind of his sounding board I
think. And Harley doesn't talk back so I'm sure that Toby sees that as
a plus. Of course, that's when he's not trying to pry the ball out of
Harley's mouth."

Donna looked at the picture. "I miss him," she said, quietly.

"Toby?" he tried to joke, but when he saw the tears swimming in her
eyes he sobered. "He's why I found you so quickly on Monday," he said,
laying his hand gently on her shoulder.

"Toby?" Donna tried to joke back.  The simmering tears in her eyes
kind of ruined the effort.

Josh smiled gently and told her how he'd called to talk to her and
Harley had managed to knock the phone off the hook letting him know
that something was wrong. "That's one smart dog you've got there,
Donnatella."

She looked up at Josh.  "I guess I know how to pick 'em." She wasn't
entirely talking about Harley and was remembering the day she'd picked
out his office in Nashua because it was the messiest and looked like
it needed the most help.  'Yeah, I know how to pick 'em all right,'
she thought.

A slight silence fell between them. Josh was looking at her quietly.
"Josh? What's going on?" Donna asked, with a frown.

"What? Nothing. Why?" Josh tried.

"Cause you've got this really weird look on your face.  It's kind of
like the look you had when you showed up at your surprise party right
after Amy quit and Carrick told you he was becoming a Republican. I
secretly call it Josh's, "Oh-my-God-now-what-do-I-do" face."

Josh sighed and leaned against the wall. "I hate it when you're
so....perceptive."

She looked at him a minute. "No, you don't. Now..." she said, patting
a spot on the bed beside her.  "Come back over here and talk to me."

He ambled over and sat down next to her. He let out a breath, "I'm
sure that Barbara told you that you're being released tomorrow."

"Yes, she told me this morning," Donna replied, waiting to hear where
he was going with his questioning.

"We need to talk about what we're going to do when you leave here."

Donna looked at him for a minute. "I assumed I would go home, back to
my apartment. Will someone be able to pick me up or should I take a
cab?"

"Sam's going to pick you up and I'll bring Harley by later."

"Oh, good." She paused.  "I'm guessing there's more that we need to
discuss. Like work maybe?"

"Well, yes. While you were recovering from all the valium they gave
you, Barbara and Stanley were both surprised to hear that we had you
dressing up as Sydney for the last few months. They both felt like it
was probably a bad idea for us to ask you to do it." He looked at her.
 "What do you think about it?"

"Barbara and I talked about it today too. I don't....Josh, I don't
want to go back to being Sydney again," she said.  It was good to have
some say in what was going on. To make her opinion heard.

He took her hand, "Well, then you don't have to."

"But doesn't that cause huge problems?" she asked him.

"Not problems, exactly. It just means we need to make some decisions,"
he replied.

Donna looked down at their clasped hands for a minute, "Yeah, I know."
She looked up at him, "Work's a big thing isn't it?"

"Yeah. But if you want to go back to work as you and not Sydney, we'll
all support you in that. The President and Leo are prepared to have CJ
go on the record publicly explaining what happened and that by faking
your death, we did what was necessary to protect you. We planned to do
it eventually anyway after the guy was caught. Although they planned
to say that for your own safety, you've been in hiding in an
undisclosed location rather than working under everyone's noses as
Sydney. They felt it was better if we let Sydney's existence remain a
secret."

"Why do I think it's not that easy?" Donna asked.

Josh sighed, "Because unfortunately nothing in this town is that easy.
Since you work in the White House you'd be given Secret Service
protection until they catch him."

"Just like CJ had?"

"Yeah, only your protection won't look like Agent Donovan," Josh said
with a little grin.

But Donna was frowning. "Do I have any other options? If I don't want
to be Sydney, I mean?" she asked.

That took him by surprise, he figured she'd just want to come back to
work.  "Um, well yeah, I guess. Mike said that they could place you in
protective custody in a safe house somewhere until they caught the
guy. Or you could basically keep a really low profile and stay in your
apartment as much as possible. But I figured you wouldn't...."

"Okay. I'll do that," she said quickly.

Too quickly.  Josh's antenna went up. When she gave him her "I'm fine"
smile, he knew something was definitely going on. "Don't you want to
come back to work at the White House?" he asked her.

She looked at him a minute. "No, that's not it...I just....." She
stopped talking, then sighed.  "Okay, I was about to think of some
excuse right there. But I'm going to go with the truth instead." She
laid her head back against the pillow. "I think it would be better if
I wasn't around for a while."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Josh asked her. He wondered if
this was the part Barbara has warned him about.  The part where she
tried to push him away.

"Josh, I'm really screwed up.  I mean sometimes I think you and
Barbara should have left me in the psych ward."

"No," he said, getting up off the bed and shoving his hands in his
pockets. "Don't ever say that! You were lucky you were out of it for
most of the time you were there. It was pretty terrible." He dragged
his hand through his hair. "Medication, restraints, bars on the
window, a bathroom without a door, security locks on the door, no
visitors. The only reason I got in to see you was because I held your
medical power of attorney. It was one step up from a prison cell and I
don't mean a big step. All I kept thinking was if they'd put me in a
place like this after I put my hand through the window I don't think I
would have been able to handle it. And the fact that you were there,
that you were LOCKED away there....well, it hurt to see it."

She could see that it had indeed affected him deeply. "Josh you
wouldn't be saying that if you knew what happened after....this
morning....after you left....I..." The words stopped coming then.

"What did happen this morning after I left?" he said with a frown as
he stopped pacing and looked at her. When he'd left, Barbara had been
there with her so it couldn't have been too bad.

She SO did not want to tell him this. "This is going to fall into that
'there's nothing too bad you can't tell me' category. Okay," she said,
letting out a breath. "I..." she dropped her face into her hands
dejectedly.  She could do this. She HAD to do this. Taking a cleansing
breath she dropped her hands into her lap and looked up at him.  "I
tried to hurt myself again."

Her statement was met by complete silence but Josh moved back over to
the side of her bed. "What do you mean you tried to hurt yourself
again?" he said, very quietly, his heart beating nearly out of his
chest.

"I tried to hurt myself. I got mad, really mad and it sort of took
over. I started throwing things. My pillows, poor Zane here," she said
holding up the rabbit. Unable to face Josh as she told him, she
brought Zane down to her lap and focused him. "And I was about to
pitch the breakfast tray off the table when I saw the metal fork.
I...it....there was no knife on the tray. So I grabbed the fork and
pulled back the sheet and aimed for my leg....Barbara stopped me."

"Is this because of what I did?" he asked quietly. "Is this because
you were mad at me for calling Barbara?"

She looked up at him then, needed to make him understand.  "Oh, God,
Josh. No, it wasn't your fault, not even a little bit. I mean I was
mad about you calling Barbara but you were right to do that. You were
only looking out for me and if you hadn't I have a feeling I would
have hurt myself anyway. I was also mad about the nightmare and
getting sick and ripping out my i.v. and making you almost pass out
because of it. It was anger and rage and mortification and everything
else all at once."

Laying her hand on his arm she tried to explain. "I didn't know what I
was doing, Josh. Do you understand? It wasn't rational. It's like
everything is tangled up inside me and I don't have any kind of
control. No off or on switch. My emotions seem to have a mind of their
own. Usually I feel nothing or I feel everything at once. Barbara and
I spent most of the morning working on it and how I can try to calm
myself down and think about what I'm upset about, without letting it
overwhelm me. But....I don't know how long it's going to take. I don't
know when I'm going to be better." Lowering her head again, she picked
at the edge of her blanket. "I don't know when you can trust me
again."

"Donna," he said quietly sitting down and laying his hand over hers.
"Donna."  He waited until her face came up so she could look at him.
"You do remember who you're talking to, right? I'm the one who yelled
at the President in the Oval, put his hand through a window, spent the
better part of Christmas Eve day spilling my guts to Stanley and
Christmas morning in the emergency room getting my hand stitched up."
He paused to let her think about it for a minute, then he leaned
forward and gathered her into a hug. "Donna, I've always trusted you.
I couldn't have come this far, WE couldn't have come this far, if I
didn't." He paused. "I'm glad you told me about this morning. I know
that must have been hard."

They were quiet a moment, just sitting there holding onto each other.
"It frightens me to know what's inside me. I don't know what's
happening and it terrifies me," she said, her voice trembling
slightly. She felt his arms tighten around her in response. "That's
why I thought maybe I should go away for a while, I don't want it to
touch you."

Chuckling softly, he leaned back and looked at her, "Well, I think
it's a little late now. I care about you, so of course it touches me."
He sat back a bit but kept hold of her hand. "Have I ever told you
Leo's hole story?"

"No, I don't think so."

"He told it to me right after I got done with Stanley. See, this guy's
walking down a street, when he falls in a hole. The walls are so
steep. He can't get out. A doctor passes by, and the guy shouts up
'Hey you! Can you help me out?' The doctor writes him a prescription,
throws it down the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along and
the guy shouts up 'Father, I'm down in this hole, can you help me
out?' The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and
moves on. Then a friend walks by. 'Hey Joe, it's me, can you help me
out?' And the friend jumps in the hole! Our guy says 'Are you stupid?
Now we're both down here!' and the friend says, 'Yeah, but I've been
down here before, and I know the way out.'"

He looked at her for a minute. "When Leo told me that story he said to
remember that as long as he had a job, I had a job. Now I'm going to
echo those same sentiments to you but I'm going to add something else.
As long as you need me, I'm here."

Tears had pooled her eyes, making them huge and blue as she watched
him, "I have to warn you," she said. "Barbara's gotten me started on
this whole crying thing. She keeps telling me it's a good thing but if
you're around me too much you might get a little damp."

"I'll be sure to keep Sam's all-weather gear handy," Josh told her.

She laughed at that, causing the tears in her eyes to trail down her
cheeks. "I think we burned them after you wore them the time you met
Joey Lucas."

"What are you saying? That I smelled worse than fish?" he said,
laughing along with her.

"Josh, you smelled worse than a trash barge," she replied, then she
sobered and swiped at the worst of the tears. "There's another reason
I mentioned going away."

"What?" he asked, handing her a tissue.

She wiped at her eyes a bit, "The nightmares I've been having."

"What about them?"

"Well...I was thinking that were a metaphor or something but Barbara
thinks they might be a memory trying to surface."

"What are they about?"

She frowned a bit, "It's hard to remember but there's a farm and a dog
and a barn. The barn seems to be the scariest part."

"Is that what the one from last night was about?"

"Yeah," she replied.

"And the one from that night in your apartment?"

"No, that was different. That one was about my mom." She wasn't ready
to go down that road with him just yet.

"Okay," he replied, sensing that there was more to it than she was
saying but not pushing it. "But how do your nightmares relate to you
thinking about going away? Can't you work through them just as well
while you're here in D.C.?"

Donna sighed slightly. "Barbara thinks it's possible I'm repressing a memory."

"What do you think?"

"I just don't know. I don't remember ever being on a farm like the one
in my nightmare. But Barbara thinks maybe it would help if I went and
saw a barn. She thinks maybe it would trigger something. Or maybe it
will do nothing and really show that it is just some kind of metaphor
my brain is using.  But how am I going to do that? I mean I can't
exactly go up the nearest farmer and say 'Hey, Farmer Ted, can I look
at your barn? Oh, and I might have a nutty while I'm there and scare
all the animals. And oh, by the way, you can't tell anyone 'cause
everyone thinks I'm dead so it would be bad if they suddenly read in
the paper that I was having a nutty in your barn!'" She laid back and
took a couple of cleansing breaths.

"Hi guys," Abbey said from the doorway. "I'm sorry I didn't knock
first," she said, closing the door and coming into the room. Josh
started to get up but she waved him off. "Don't get up on my account,
Josh. I just came to check on Donna and didn't want to knock in case
she was sleeping. I came late so my visit would be less conspicuous."
She stopped by the bed, standing where Josh and Donna could both see
her. "Did I hear you guys say something about a barn?"

Josh looked at Donna, telling her it was up to her as to what they
told Abbey. She squeezed his hand in gratitude.  "Yeah, I've been
having a recurring nightmare about a barn. I think it's just a
metaphor but Barbara thinks it might be a memory I'm repressing and
that it may be a good idea if at some point I go and SEE a barn to see
if I remember anything."

"Well, now that is a co-incidence. Because one of the reasons I had
for coming over here, besides checking on my favorite patient," she
smiled at Donna, "was because I've been talking to Jed about what you
were going to do after you got out of the hospital tomorrow. Now, we
figured it was safe to assume you weren't going to want to go back to
dressing up as Sydney, am I right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay. Now since they haven't caught your attacker yet we figured you
wouldn't want to reveal the fact that you're alive right now."

"Right again," Donna answered.

"So that would mean either being a near hermit in your apartment or
being locked up in some FBI safe house until they catch the guy.
Right?" Donna nodded.  "Well, I think I've come up with a third option
for you to consider."

"What is it, ma'am?" Donna asked with a little frown.

"The Manchester house," she said with a smile.

"What Manchester house....? Wait...you mean, YOUR Manchester House?"
Donna asked incredulous. Abbey nodded. "Oh, no ma'am. I couldn't.
That's just too much to ask. I appreciate the offer, really I do, but
I wouldn't feel right about it."

"Donna, first of all, if you 'ma'am' me one more time I'm not going to
be responsible for my actions. Just call me Abbey.  I think we're way
beyond the First Lady and the government employee routine. Second of
all, give me one good reason why you can't take me up on my offer?"

"Mrs. Bartlet..." Donna began.

"Abbey."

"Abbey..." Donna tried again. "It just wouldn't look right."

"Says who? The only people who are going to know will be the ones we
decide to tell. The President will be here so it's not like the press
is going to have any interest in what's going on at our house in New
Hampshire. I figured I'd be there at least part of the time so I can
keep an eye on your leg, but the press doesn't pay that much attention
to me these days unless I want them to," she said with the air of
someone who'd had a long standing relationship with the Press Corps.

"It would be too big of an imposition," Donna tried to point out.

"Nonsense.  It's no imposition at all. With Zoey back in DC, the house
is empty these days. The Secret Service guarding the grounds and the
one farm hand that takes care of the stock for us all have their own
living quarters. At least someone will get some use out of it.  Plus
you'd be protected by the Secret Service. You'd have some time to
think some things through without the stress of this town pulling at
you. Take a month. Breathe some fresh air, remember what it's like to
sleep in once in a while. It did Zoey a world of good after the
kidnapping. If Barbara is okay with the idea of you going, she could
fly up a couple times a week for your sessions. And, as luck would
have it, we have a barn at the Manchester house."

"I couldn't leave Harley."

"Who says you have to leave him? It's the perfect place for a dog.
Fields and the orchard to run in. The cows, chickens, and squirrels to
chase around. He'll be in doggy heaven."

Donna looked at her for a moment, "You've seen Harley, right? Big dog,
big tail that has a mind of it's own, sheds like crazy, likes to hog
the couch?"

Abbey smiled at her. "Donna that house has survived three kids, five
dogs, six cats, three hamsters, any number of fish, as I recall a frog
that Ellie liberated from her high school biology class, and Jed. It
will survive Harley."

"What about my apartment and my bills? I won't have any money coming
in if I'm not working," Donna pointed out.

"Well, Leo and I talked a little about that.  If you wanted to take
some extended time off he said he thought he could arrange a paid
leave of absence," Josh told her. "And between CJ, Toby and Sam. I'm
sure they could keep an eye on your apartment, collect your mail and
send you anything that looked like it needed attention."

'But what about Josh?' Donna wondered to herself.  She looked at him.
Although a few minutes ago she'd been talking about leaving him for a
while, now that she was faced with the very real possibility of doing
so, she wasn't nearly as committed to the idea of being without him at
least close by.

Abbey saw the look on Donna's face and looked at Josh.  "Um, Josh, how
would you feel about going with her?" Personally, Abbey had been
rooting for Josh and Donna to get on the same page about what was
going on between them ever since she'd seen them together in the
Residence a few months before. She knew it would be slow going because
of what had happened to Donna and the affect it had on Josh, but she
thought that giving them some non-work time together would be a solid
first step.

Josh looked between Abbey and Donna. While he'd listened to Abbey's
arguments for Donna going to the Manchester house he'd thought that it
was a perfect idea. But the thought of being away from her when he
felt that she needed him the most had been very troubling. Now, Abbey
was clearly giving him the chance to get around that. But it would
mean leaving the White House, at least for a little while.

Except for when he'd been recovering from the shooting, he'd hardly
had more than a couple of days off here and there since they'd been in
office. Nothing longer than Thanksgiving weekends to see his mom or
when he'd eventually been able to go and see the Mets in Florida for
spring training. After the recent trouble with Carrick and the arrival
of Angela Blake, who'd thankfully gone back to New York the month
earlier, he was very conscious of just how tenuous his position in the
White House was. But on the other hand, it had also made him realize
that he needed to have a something for himself outside of politics. In
an odd way, he owed Carrick for shaking him up a bit.  It had been a
turning point for him. One that had pointed him at Donna.

"Of course, Jed and Leo would still expect as much work from you as
possible," Abbey was telling him. "At least as much as you could do
over the phone or by e-mail or by the occasional trip back to D.C."

"Oh, Josh. I couldn't.....you can't afford to take that much time off.
You don't have to do. I'll be all right by myself," Donna said, her
words in direct contrast to how she really felt. But she didn't want
to put any pressure on him.  She never wanted to make him have to
choose between their friendship and politics.

Josh looked at her. She'd been suffering alone for too long. It was
time someone stood with her to show her she wasn't alone any more. "I
know you would be," he said, squeezing her hand. "But I want to be
there for you. So no matter what, I will find a way to work it out
with Leo and the President."

Abbey smirked to herself slightly. She'd already talked Leo and Jed
into the idea of letting Josh go along. So he'd find them remarkably
agreeable to the idea.

"Wait...Sam," Josh said suddenly.

"Sam?" Abbey said. "What about Sam?"

"With me gone and Angela back in New York, Leo's going to need someone
to help staff the President.  Sam did it when Toby, Donna and I got
stuck in Indiana, he could it again. I don't think he's gotten that
far on setting up his practice yet." He smiled. "Yeah, I think it just
might work." He squeezed Donna's hand.

Abbey smiled, pleased that they'd come to an apparent consensus.
"Good. So Donna, what do you say? You wanna come spend some time in
the Granite State, where the motto is 'Live Free or Die'?"

"Live Free or Die, huh?" Donna said, looking at Josh. 'How
appropriate,' she thought. "I don't have to take Sydney, right?" she
asked, looking back at Abbey.

"You can shove her in a drawer as far as I'm concerned," Abbey said with a grin.

Donna nodded. "Okay."

"Great," Abbey said.  "When are you scheduled to see Barbara next?"

"She's coming to my apartment tomorrow afternoon. She wants to meet
Harley and see where I live," Donna told her.

"Good, talk to her and make sure she's okay with the idea of you going
and if she can work it into her schedule to come up there for your
sessions. Tell her to call me if she has ANY questions. Oh, and be
sure to tell her about the barn. If she's okay with it we can leave
Saturday morning." She looked at Josh.  "Will that be enough time to
get things on your end set up, Josh?"

"Yeah, that should give me time to get Sam up to speed by then."

Abbey sighed and smiled, "Well, I've got a million things to do.
Donna, call me after you talk to Barbara. Okay?"

"I will Mrs....Abbey," Donna said.

Abbey smiled at her and then leaned forward and kissed her on the
forehead.  "I'll talk to you soon." She headed for the door.  "Bye,"
she said before stepping out into the hall.

"Bye," Josh and Donna called after her.

"Well, it looks like our problems are solved," he said, looking at the
door. Then he turned back to Donna. Huge tears were hanging at the
edge of her bottom edge of her eyes. "Donna? What's wrong?"

She blinked hard, the tears trailed down her cheeks. She swiped at
them with the tissue Josh had given her earlier. "Nothing."

"Then why are you crying?"

"I told you to get used to it," she replied softly.  When he only
continued to look at her, apparently waiting for a real answer, she
sniffed.  "They're just really.....nice. I can't believe they'd open
their own home to me. I mean I can believe it because they're so nice
but....you know?"

Josh squeezed her hand.  "Yeah, I know." Things were quiet between
them for a moment. "Well, it's getting late. We'd better turn in. I'm
going to go in the bathroom and brush my teeth and get changed."

"Kay," Donna replied. She pressed the button on the bed to lower the
head of the bed and tried to get comfortable. As she heard the water
running in the bathroom she looked at the ceiling for a few minutes.
It still amazed her that President and Mrs. Bartlet had been so kind
to her. Her mind drifted to the inevitable comparison between them and
her own parents.  It wasn't much of a contest. She sighed. What had
Barbara said? 'Sometimes people just can't be what you want or need
them to be. You can't change that. You just have to try and find some
way to go on without them.' Well, maybe she'd just temporarily,
unofficially, in her own heart, look at the Bartlets as her foster
parents. They'd already been kinder to her than her own parents had
ever been.

Just then Josh came out of the bathroom, "All yours."  Donna
maneuvered herself out of bed to brush her teeth and use the bathroom.
Then she carefully got back into bed. "Do you need anything else
before we turn in?" he asked as he made sure the i.v. line wasn't
tangled or anything and he tucked the blankets in around her.

"No, I'm okay," she replied.  She watched him move to the other bed
and pull back the sheet. "Josh?"

He stopped and turned around. "Yeah?"

"Can I change my answer?"

"About needing something? Sure." He walked over to her bed.  "What can
I do for you?"

She stared at him for a moment, "I don't want to have any nightmares
tonight.  I'd just like to get through the night without worrying.
Will you...." she paused, swallowing the small lump in her throat.
"Will you stay with me?  Like before?" she asked.

He smiled down at her. "What about your leg?  I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she said, her words loaded with meaning. "I trust you."

"Ah-kay," he reached over and grabbed the blanket off his bed as she
scooted over to far side of hers. Leaving the light in the bathroom on
in case one of them had to get up in the middle of the night, he
turned off all the other lights and then carefully, gingerly climbed
up on her bed. Just like their prior sleeping arrangements had been,
he was on top of the covers and she was under them.  He tossed the
blanket from his bed over the top of him. Between her i.v. and her
leg, Donna had to lie on her back. But if he laid on his side, there
was just enough room for both of them in the bed. But he was happy the
bed had rails on it or he just knew he'd wind up on the floor at some
point in the night. "Comfortable?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she replied softly.  "You?"

"Yeah," he said. Anytime he was this close to her he was uncomfortably
comfortable. He was comfortable because he was close enough to smell
her skin, her hair, just HER and that was always a comfort. But he was
uncomfortable because he wouldn't let himself get any closer to her.
"I'm fine," he told her.

They laid there in the semi-darkness for a few minutes. "Josh?"

"Hmmm?"

"Thank you for coming to New Hampshire with me," she told him.

Her hand was laying on top of the covers and he linked his fingers
with hers. "You're welcome, Donna.  Like I said, you don't have to go
through this alone.  You don't ever have to go through anything alone
again."

"I know." She paused. "Goodnight," she said softly.

He could already hear the sleep in her voice and he took enormous
satisfaction in it.  "Goodnight."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 29 - MATURE



About the time that Donna had ended up in the psychiatric ward, D.C.
and all of New England had begun to realize that it was fall. That
meant the temperatures, especially at night, had taken a downward turn
and the leaves on the trees had begun to change from lively summer
greens to vibrant autumn browns, reds, and golds.

Because of this changing scenery, Abbey, Josh and Donna had decided to
drive to Manchester instead of fly. The drive would take them 7 to 8
hours but they weren't necessarily in a hurry and it would give them a
chance to take in the scenery.

Barbara had agreed to Donna going, and in fact had thought it was a
wonderful idea. She said she would plan to fly up on Mondays and
Thursdays for her sessions with Donna.  She did have one stipulation
though. That Donna not go near the barn until she was there with her.

Although it had turned into his own version of 'Don't Ask, Don't
Tell,' with CJ and the rest of the administration, Josh had stayed
with Donna every night since she'd gotten out of the hospital. But he
felt it was worth it.  Donna hadn't had a nightmare since he'd been
staying with her.

So, as they'd originally planned, Josh, Donna, Abbey and a Secret
Service detail quietly slipped out of Washington on Saturday, which
happened to also be Halloween, and headed for Manchester. Donna was
currently curled up next to Josh on the rear seat of the Suburban with
her head in his lap. She'd been asleep for about an hour. Abbey sat
reading in the middle seat of the vehicle, with Harley asleep and
snoring lightly on the floor at her feet. Two Secret Service agents
occupied the driver's seat and the front passenger seat. Two more
Suburbans, one in front of them, one behind, and each containing 4
more agents drove with them. Their luggage and various supplies were
spread among the three vehicles.

As Josh had hoped, Sam was willing, and the President and Leo had been
agreeable, to Sam staffing the President and performing quite a few of
Josh's regular duties while he was in New Hampshire.  But as Abbey had
mentioned in Donna's hospital room, they still expected Josh to take
care of as much as he could by phone, e-mail and with at least one
return trip in a couple of weeks to help with a scheduled Senate vote.
Even though Josh had spent three days prepping Sam, there was still a
lot they hadn't gotten around to talking about.  Which was why, at
about hour 5 of the drive, Josh was on the phone trying to explain to
Sam what needed to happen during a meeting with the base closure
committee that was scheduled for Monday morning.

"You can't let them push you around, Sam. And since you're meeting
with them and not me, you know they're going to try," he said into the
phone as his free hand idly brushed slowly across Donna's shoulder as
she slept. "You know how this works.  They ask for a thing, then we
say no and then they ask for a little less and we say keep talking and
then they ask for a little less and we're right where we want to be
and everyone goes home happy.  It's a little like when the Dutch
settlers managed to snatch up the island of Manhattan in 1626 from the
Manates Indians for a few trinkets."

"Josh you do realize that the treatment of those Indians by the
settlers is seen as one step, and a tiny step at that, above robbery
and genocide?" Sam replied.

"Yeah, but that still doesn't keep anyone one from wanting to live in
Manhattan, Sam."

"Well, since I lived there myself when I worked at Gage Whitney, I
can't really compose a credible response to that, but I get what
you're trying to say about the meeting on Monday."

"Then my work here is done," Josh said with a smirk. "How are you
feeling about things, Sam?"

"Scared out of my mind."

"Oh, good," Josh replied.

"Good?  How is that possibly good?" Sam demanded.

"'Cause you care, Sam.  You want to do a good job.  If you didn't you
wouldn't be so scared." He paused.  "Don't worry.  You'll do fine.
You've done this before, remember?"

"Yeah, and out of that whole day, I had one good moment. ONE, Josh," Sam said.

"Welcome to my world, Sam," Josh tried to joke.  "Look, Sam.  Last
time you hadn't slept for like, a week. Now you're rested and relaxed.
 Before you had no idea what to expect or what was going to happen.
Now at least you have some idea of what you've gotten yourself into."

Sam took a steadying breath as he looked around Josh's cluttered
office. "I suppose it's too late to change my mind."

"Yeah, sorry, Sam.  That ship has sailed," Josh replied.

There was a pause, "How's she doing?"

Josh looked down at Donna, who was still sleeping quietly. "She's
okay. She's asleep right now. We should be at the house in a couple
hours. I'll give you a call when we get there." He smiled, "I tell you
what, Sam.  Go find Toby and CJ and go out tonight and have a nice
dinner. Have a drink. Then go home and get a good night's sleep. Come
in for a few hours tomorrow so you can ease yourself into things.
Call me if you need anything."

"Yeah, don't think that will a problem," Sam replied.

"Okay, Grasshopper. I'll talk to you later.

"Quoting old Kung Fu movies now, Josh?"

"That's Master to you, Grasshopper."

"Right. I'll be sure to remember that because Toby doesn't, you know,
already make fun of me enough." Sam said with a grin.

Josh chuckled.  "Okay.  Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks again for doing this for me....for her. If you weren't helping
me out with this I don't think I could have come with her without
quitting outright," Josh told him quietly. "And this is where I need
to be."

"I know. I'm glad I could help, although just how much help I'm going
to be remains to be seen," Sam answered back, then grew quiet. "Just
take care of her, all right?"

"It's my new mission in life," Josh replied, looking down at her
sleeping form again. "Bye, Sam."

"Bye."

Josh hung up the phone and looked at Donna for a moment. A strand of
fine blonde hair had escaped the ponytail she'd pulled it into and had
fallen across her cheek, He gently brushed it back and tucked it
behind her ear. She stirred slightly and moved her hand to lay it over
his where it was resting on her shoulder. With a soft sigh, she
settled back to sleep.

He'd watched her sleep before. When they'd been campaigning. On late
flights on Air Force One. In his apartment when she'd stayed with him
after Rosslyn or when they'd been working late and she'd fallen asleep
on his couch. Of course, more recently during her stays in the
hospital and while he'd been staying with her at the apartment.  But
as he watched her now, with the crisp fall sunlight moving over her
face, it washed over him just how dear she was to him. What a big part
of his life she'd become. How much he wanted to hold her and never let
her go. How he wanted to do everything in his power to make her whole
and happy again. Even if that meant that things never happened for
them.

"Sam having a nutty about filling in for you?" Abbey asked him.  She'd
turned in her seat and was watching him and Donna. It touched
something in her to see the two of them together.

Josh looked up and met her gaze over the top of her reading glasses.
"Yeah, I think the phrase 'scared spitless' might apply."

"Ahh, he'll do fine. Jed likes him so that helps. Besides, it will be
good experience for him."

"I tried to tell him those things but I think he was still too worried
that he'll, you know, tell the President to invade Nebraska or
something, to hear it," Josh said with a smile.

"Now, next time you talk to him you'll have to tell him he had nothing
to worry about.  Jed would never invade Nebraska. I mean what's in
Nebraska? Insurance? Wow, what a war prize.  I mean if he invaded
anything it would be Florida for Disneyworld or California for
Disneyland or Hollywood. At least with one of those we'd have some
place to take the grandkids. Louisiana could also be a target. While
definitely not a place to take the kids, us adults would have a hell
of a time in New Orleans with all the great food and plenty of alcohol
to drink," Abbey joked.

"I could get behind New Orleans," Josh replied with a little grin.
"Donna loves the beignets from the French Quarter and I love the
coffee so we'd be set."

Abbey enjoyed the way that Josh kept speaking of him and Donna in a
package deal/non-couple couple kind of way. "Well, I'll be sure to
tell Jed that the two of you vote for Louisiana," Abbey told him.

"But I've never been to Disneyland," Donna murmured sleepily, as her
eyes fluttered open. "How do I know I wouldn't like it better? Just
because Josh gets nauseous riding the escalator...."

"Hey! It was just that one time and I was getting over the stomach
flu," he said in his own defense.

She smiled up at him teasingly, "Someday I guess you'll have to take
me to Disneyland and prove it."

"Well...it's nice of you to join us in the land of the living," Abbey
said with a smile as she watched Donna yawn and slowly stretch.

"How long was I asleep?" she said, sitting up slowly. "I went to sleep
listening to Josh try and talk Sam off the ledge he'd climbed out on
and I woke up hearing about how we were invading Nebraska. And why on
earth would we want to invade Nebraska?  I mean all they have there is
insurance."

"That was exactly my point," Abbey replied.

Donna stretched a bit more and took a drink of water from a bottle she
had in her bag. "Oh, this is nice," she said, looking out at the
scenery they drove past. Slightly rolling hills covered in changing
foliage rolled out from both sides of their little caravan. Where are
we?" she asked.

"We just crossed into Massachusetts.  It's about another two hours to
the house. You were asleep for about an hour," Abbey answered.

Donna nodded. "Where's Harley?"

"Lying down here by my feet, sawing logs," Abbey told her.

"He's not crowding you, is he?"

"Donna...stop worrying," Abbey said with a little smile. "You're
supposed to be relaxing. He's fine."

"Right," she smiled slightly. "I know. Sorry."

"Okay, I'd like to make a rule, here and now.  There will be no
'sorrys' on this trip. No apologizing. At least not to me. Agreed?"
Abbey said, with a pointed look at Donna.

"All right," Donna said with a nod.

"Good," Abbey said, her expression softening. "Now, how's your leg
feeling?  Do you need to get out and stretch a bit?"

Donna flexed her leg a bit. "No, it's okay. I think I can wait."

"I brought some magazines.  Would you like one to read?" Abbey said,
holding up a selection of periodicals.

"No, reading in the car makes me nauseous," Donna replied.

"Ah, ha! And you were getting on my case for getting nauseous on the
escalator.  At least I don't get car sick. I'd so do better than you
on roller coasters," Josh said with a smirk.

"Josh, I only get sick if I read when I'm the car. As I recall they
don't make you read on roller coasters and as long as they don't, I'd
kick your ass on the roller coasters." Donna replied.

He was glad to see Donna bringing the banter between them so easily.
"Well, one of these days, I guess we'll just have to see about that,"
Josh said with a cryptic smile. Donna looked at him curiously but he
only continued smiled. "Mrs. Bartlet? Can I have one of those
magazines? Preferably, something not girly. You got anything like
'Time' or 'Newsweek' up there?'"

"Let's see," Abby said, looking through her stack. "I've got Cosmo,
People, Redbook, Reader's Digest, Better Homes and Gardens, the
Journal of the American Medical Association, the Annals of Thoracic
Surgery, and USA Today."

"And yet you're reading a book," Josh commented.

Abbey looked down at the bestselling hardback book she had in her
hand.  "Well, I'm almost done with it and I wanted to be prepared."

"Ah-kay, give me the Reader's Digest."

Abbey smirked at him, "I would have bet money you would have picked
the 'USA Today.'"

"Yeah, Josh doesn't read, 'USA Today,'" Donna replied before Josh
could. "He says all the color freaks him out."

"It's just wrong. I mean I know that papers have color pictures
sometimes. But they carry it too far.  It's like a girly newspaper,"
Josh explained. "I take my newspapers manly."

"Sam likes it," Donna said.

"I rest my case,"  Josh replied as he took the 'Reader's Digest' from
Abbey. "And, unlike you, my dear Donnatella," he said, flipping open
the cover. "I can read in the car."

Donna merely stuck her tongue out at him and went back to looking out
the window.

**********

About 2 hours later she was still looking out the window.  But the
view was, and had been, spectacular so she didn't mind. As in the
city, the summer green fields, hills and trees were slowly giving way
to the deeper colors of autumn.  But the process wasn't quite
complete, leaving the summer and autumn colors standing side by side.
Almost as if someone had gone around and painted only half the
foliage. Rather than looking odd, it looked like a welcoming homemade
patchwork quilt you might find thrown over the back of your
grandmother's sofa.

Josh, on the other hand, had gone through Readers Digest, People,
Redbook, Cosmo, and, truly showing the depth of his boredom, the
Journal of the AMA. And now, like any normal 6-year-old, he was
beginning to get fidgety. "Are we almost there?" he finally blurted.

Donna rolled her eyes. "Oh, God. Now I remember why I hate long car
trips with you."

Abbey turned slowly in her seat to look at him. "Josh, tell me you did
not just ask me a thinly veiled version of 'Are we there yet?'"

He managed to look sheepish and yet still way to much like a whiny
6-year-old.  "No, I said, 'Are we almost there.' The two are
completely different. The first one is a valid, adult question. The
second is one that is often heard on family summer car trips when the
parents are about ready to turn the car around and go back to wherever
they came from."

"Yeah, Josh, just keep telling yourself that," Abbey said with a
smirk. "But as luck would have it, and fortunately for Donna and me so
we don't have to listen to your escalating whining, we are, in fact,
almost there.  The turn off to the house is coming up on the left."

Donna looked off to the left as their little caravan turned off the
main road and headed down the gravel one that lead to the house's main
gate. The metal pings of small pieces of gravel ricocheting off the
underside of the car sounded as they drove down the road. Donna had
never been out to the farm before. The closest she'd come was when
they'd been campaigning for the Presidents re-election. But then she'd
stayed in town with the rest of the staff at the hotel to help
coordinate things. Josh himself had been to the farm on a number of
occasions, although even he'd never spent the night there. "The
scenery is so beautiful here, Abbey," Donna said.  "How can you stand
to be away from it so for so long?"

"You know, it's funny. Sometimes, like when I was here with Zoey a few
months ago, I didn't think I ever wanted to leave. And yet other
times, especially when Jed and the girls or my grandkids aren't here,
it seems really isolated and lonely to me," Abbey replied.

The lead Secret Service vehicle in their group had already radioed
ahead and the main gate stood open for them so they could drive on
through. A few minutes later, the large two-story, clap board house
loomed up on their right.  It looked less like a farm house and more
like an older, well tended, stately, but incredibly welcoming house
you might see in any mid-western town. The gravel drive wound its way
up to the house where they stopped.

Harley, being a dog and needing to do his doggie business, hopped out
as soon as the door was open and made use of a nearby tree and then
spent some time sniffing every inch of...well, everything.  But he was
sure not to stray too far from his human. He smelled all manner of
interesting things, including squirrels and he wondered if the
squirrels they had there were any sturdier than the last squirrel he'd
tried to play with.

Being careful of her leg and with Josh at her elbow in case she need
some support, Donna climbed gingerly out of the Suburban and, keeping
one eye on Harley, took stock of her surroundings.

It was late afternoon and the temperature was already a little chilly
and if she was out there very long she'd have to put on a jacket. She
was glad that she'd followed Abbey's suggestion and packed warm
clothes. The house itself sat up on a slight hill, just back from the
gravel drive, a small stepping stone path connecting the two. Three
steps lead up to a wide front porch. For the home of a sitting
President it seemed almost....modest. A number of trees sat around it
like silent sentinels, merely shading it and giving it some protection
from the elements and not blocking it in. Nice but not ostentatious,
the house clearly reflected the fact that Bartlets were regular people
who just happened to be high up in the political landscape of the
country.  Donna mused that this house was also white. So the President
lived in a "White House" no matter where he was.  For some reason, she
thought that was kind of funny but appropriate.

Turning, she did a slow inventory of the view from the house. What
looked to be a good sized orchard, she seemed to remember that it was
an apple orchard, sat off to the right and just behind the house.
Directly across from the house, but separated from it by the gravel
drive was a small lake. An old weathered dock stretched out over the
water. She could see the President sitting on the end of it with Zoey
or his grandson, fishing poles in their hands. Or the Bartlet
daughters in their younger days, jumping off the end of it to swim in
the water.

As she recalled, New Hampshire had very cold, very long winters. If
that was the case, the lake most likely froze over in the winter. She
wondered if the Bartlets had ever ice skated on it or if the President
liked ice fishing. Although there were any number of lakes and ponds
that froze over in the winter in Wisconsin, living in town as she had
growing up, the only ice skating she'd ever done was in a climate
controlled skating rink and while her father had liked fishing, he'd
never been inclined to take her along.  She had however, gone fishing
with her grandfather on a number of occasions and had enjoyed it, or
more accurately, had enjoyed the time with her grandfather.

Turning to her right, she saw that the gravel drive continued on from
the house for a bit, then made a slow, wide turn to the right. Near
the bend in the road is where she saw the barn.

Donna stood, looking at it for a minute. Waiting for some kind of
reaction. Some kind of instant insight that would be like a puzzle
piece falling into place for her memory. But none came.  She did,
however, have a vague sense of foreboding. A very slight throbbing
began to beat at the base of her skull. It was almost like a faded
mental "No Trespassing" sign. A posted warning that she needed to
decide if she was going to heed or not. The problem was, she couldn't
really see any reason for the foreboding. The barn didn't even look
like the one in her nightmare. The Bartlets barn was whitewashed and
well tended, not grey and weathered like the one in her nightmare. In
fact, it looked more like a single-story house than a barn. The only
things that gave it away as a barn were the wide, open doors that
revealed the darkened interior and the long narrow shape and steeply
pointed roof of it. Although she couldn't say why, she couldn't seem
to stop looking at it.

Josh, who was still standing next to her, watched Donna stare at the
barn. Although she hadn't said anything about LOOKING at the barn,
Barbara had given them very clear instructions that Donna was not to
go in or near the barn without her there and Josh had promised that he
would see to it that she didn't.  "Donna? You okay?" he said, touching
her arm lightly.  She startled a bit, her head snapping toward him.
Her eyes were a bit dazed.

"What?" she asked, blinking rapidly as if to clear her head.

"I asked if you were okay," he said, gently.

"Oh," she said, producing a small, slightly forced smile. "Sure. Of course."

Josh looked at her a moment, "Kay."

"You two ready to go inside?" Abbey asked them. Harley came bounding
up at that point, panting and wagging his tail happily. He barked once
in Abbey's direction. "Oh, I'm sorry, Harley. Are you THREE ready to
go inside?" Harley's answer was to turn and head toward the house.

Josh held the front door open as Abbey, Donna and Harley entered. "Oh,
Abbey.  It's wonderful," Donna said, commenting about the interior of
the house.  In some ways it was very similar to the way they had
decorated the Residence. With an understated and homey elegance.

"Oh, that's right. I forgot, Josh has been here but you haven't."

"No, I haven't.  During the President's re-election, I stayed in
town," she explained.

"Well, then let me give you the ten cent tour and I'll show your room."

Abbey showed Donna the house from top to bottom while Josh and the
agents brought in the luggage and supplies from the cars. Everything
was comfortable and welcoming. From the study to the kitchen, from the
cheery sunroom to the living room, and ending with the upstairs
bedrooms.  All together there were four bedrooms and three bathrooms.
Abbey, of course, would be staying in the master bedroom, with it's
adjoining master bath. Josh would be staying in what used to be Liz's
old room.  Donna would be staying in the room between Josh's and
Abbey's that had been Zoey's when she growing up and was still the one
she used when she was at the house.  Zoey had suggested to Abbey that
she give Donna her room because it was the only other room, besides
the master, to have its own bathroom. It was done in simple white wall
paper with small yellow rosebuds on it and white furniture, curtains
and accessories.

"Oh, this is a lovely room, Abbey.  Thank you. You have such a
beautiful home," Donna told her as they stood in Zoey's old room.

"I'm glad you like it, Donna.  It's a place to hang our hats that's
away from prying eyes and the public and the press. Plus there's a lot
of fond memories in this house. We've lived here for a very long time.
When we weren't in the Governor's mansion or in the White House, of
course. The farm's been in Jed's family for generations," Abbey said,
with a warm smile.

"Well, again, I just want to say thank you for letting me stay here.
It means a great deal to me."

"You're welcome," Abbey said.  "Now, where do you supposed Mr. Lyman
and your luggage are?"

Donna smiled a bit, "It might take him longer than most people since
he's not used to schlepping the luggage.  Usually he makes ME carry
it."

"Well, then he can see it as a character-building experience," Abbey
said with a smirk.

Just then a number of thumps and curses could be heard coming up the
stairs.  "Geez, Donna, what the hell is in your luggage?  Rocks?" Josh
said as he came into the room, half pulling, half dragging her
luggage.

"Yes, Josh.  I decided to blow off bringing any kind of clothing just
to have the satisfaction of giving you a hernia for having to carry my
suitcases that I'd stuffed full of rocks," Donna answered.

"Ha, ha. Very funny," he said, tossing her bags onto the bed.

Abbey watched the two of them for a minute and tried to compose her
words, "Hey, guys?"

They both turned to her.  "Yes, ma'am?" Josh said.

"Um, I just wanted to take a second to address the sleeping
arrangements." She paused to see if they had any comments or
questions, which they didn't, and then went on. "From what I saw in
the Residence and the hospital, I get the impression that you two have
been staying close to each other at night."

"Nothing happened.  I just can't sleep if he's not...close by," Donna
tried to explain.

Abbey looked at them for a minute. "I figured as much. What I wanted
to say was that I put you two in separate rooms because that way I can
have plausible deniability if anyone asks and I can honestly say you
two had separate rooms." She smiled a bit.  "But just between the
three of us, you're both consenting adults and what you do....or don't
do, is your business. There's no press here and I won't give you a
hard time about it.  The same can't be said for my husband, however.
Jed would probably tell the agents to throw Josh in the lake if he
thought you two were sharing a room." She smiled a bit wider. "So if
anyone, including Jed, asks, Josh, you're staying in Liz's old room
and Donna, you're staying in Zoey's room. For everything else, the
instructions are....deny, deny, deny."

*********

At about 9 pm that night, Donna sat on the front porch swing slowly
rocking back and forth in the dark as she looked out over the lake.
In addition to the jacket she was already wearing, a blanket was
pulled around her, keeping her warm. The porch's only illumination was
the light coming from inside the house. After unpacking they'd had a
light dinner, then she and Abbey had cleaned up the kitchen and
started to work on a jigsaw puzzle while Josh had hooked up his laptop
to check his e-mail get a little work done.

Eventually Donna had needed a break from the puzzle and had put on her
jacket and grabbed the throw blanket of the back of the couch before
coming outside to sit on the swing. Harley, now tired after doing some
more investigating of their temporary home was lying on the porch just
off to her left on a large ratty blanket, sound asleep. The night was
gorgeous.  Clear and crisp, she could only imagine how cold it might
be to sit out here during the depths of the winter.

Looking off to her right, she could just make out the outline of the
white barn in the darkness. 'What secrets does it hold?' she wondered.
And if she learned those secrets would she be able to deal with what
she found? If the memory had been so terrible that her mind had chosen
to bury it or forget it, what made her think that she was any more
capable of handling it now? Her answer chose that moment to step out
onto the porch. Although she couldn't remember what had happened in
the barn, she knew without a doubt that she had been alone with the
monster and the memories it had spawned. As her current visitor had
reminded her on a number of occasions, she wasn't alone anymore.

"Hey," Josh said, slipping his hands in his pockets and shivering a
bit in the chilly air.  He was wearing a heavy sweater but no coat.
Harley raised his head at the sound of his voice but once he saw who
it was, he laid back down and went back to dreaming about squirrels
that were sturdier and more resilient than the ones he'd come across
so far.

"Why are you sitting out here alone in the dark?" Josh asked her.

"Just thinking," she replied, quietly.

He walked over the swing. "You know, you can think inside, too. It's
freezing out here."

Donna snuggled into the blanket a bit more.  "Oh, I don't know, I'm
toasty warm."

He watched her for a moment, knowing she wasn't ready to go inside
yet. "Got any of that blanket to spare?"

"Oh, I think that might be arranged," she said with a smile, holding
out a corner of the blanket to him and forming a small cocoon next to
her.

Josh eased into the spot and pulled the blanket in around them. "Ooo,
toasty," he commented.  He could still feel Donna's body heat on the
blanket.  Plus there was the fact that he was pressed up against her
pretty tightly to make the most of the blanket and their shared body
heat.

"See, I told you," she replied.

"Okay, you were right." Josh shifted and slid his arm across her
shoulders to bring them a little closer.

She rested her head lightly on his shoulder. "I'm always right," she teased him.

He chuckled softly and rested his cheek on the top of her head, "Well,
since that's true I won't try and argue with you." They fell into a
comfortable silence for a few minutes as they continued to rock
together in the dark. "So you want to share what you were thinking
about?" he finally asked her.

She sighed softly. "Just what's ahead.  About the barn mostly and what
I might find there."

"You still scared?" he asked her.

"Yeah, but knowing you'll be there helps me be only scared and not
bone meltingly terrified," she replied honestly.

He tightened his arm around her shoulders comfortingly, "Good, I'm
glad." He paused. "It's natural to be a little scared.  I mean it's
something that's unknown. That's always scary."

"I suppose you're right." she commented. They grew quiet again.  "It's
nice here," she said a few minutes later.

"I never noticed before, but yeah, it is. I've never been here just to
relax. My other visits have always been when we were in the middle of
a campaign and going 300 miles an hour."

"Speaking of work, did you get all your e-mails taken care of?"

"Yeah, and I called to check-in with Leo.  We went over a couple of
things that are coming up, oh, and he told me to be sure and tell you
he said hi."

"Oh, that was nice of him," she replied.

"Well, I think he's feeling a little guilty about the Sydney thing."

Donna snorted softly, "Yeah, because Leo is big on feeling guilty."

"I suppose you have a point there. Maybe it's more accurate to say
that he is concerned that his encouragement of Sydney has added to
some of the struggles you've had," Josh tried to put it more
tactfully. "And he's not the only one...." he mumbled.

"Josh," she said, sitting up and turning to look at him squarely.
"Don't do that," she added quietly.

"What?"

"Don't feel guilty about Sydney.  I should have said something and
besides, I don't remember you ever being all that gung-ho about her."
She paused.  "In fact, as I recall, you were the only one who wasn't
fooled by her. You saw right through her to me. I have no words to
tell you how much that meant to me. In some ways, at least in the
beginning, I think that's what made it bearable for me to put her on.
As long as you knew the truth, as long as you still saw me as ME and
not as Sydney, it wasn't all bad." She reached for his hand, where it
was holding the blanket together. "I need you, Josh. I mean I need ALL
of you if I'm going to get through this. But if you're all tied up
feeling guilty then that part of you isn't going to able to help me."

He squeezed her hand, "I know. It's just hard, what with me being the
king of guilt and all." He looked at her for a minute.  Her face was
luminous, even in the semi-darkness. The love he had for her
threatened to choke him for a moment and he had to wait until it had
passed to speak. "But don't worry, Donna.  You've got all of me. I'm
not going to let guilt or anything else get in the way of that. I
promise."

"I know you won't, Josh," Donna said, softly.

"Whatever happens, whatever you remember or you don't remember, we'll
face it together. Okay?"

"Okay," she said with a smile, the determination in his voice
bolstering her spirits and her courage. Laying her head back on his
shoulder, they went back to rocking quietly in the swing and listened
to sounds of the autumn night and Harley's low but steady snoring.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 30 - MATURE



Sitting on the top step of the porch with Harley laying beside her,
Donna sipped her mug of tea and watched the black sedan coming up the
road. It was mid-morning on Monday and the dew hadn't quite evaporated
from the grass yet, leaving it with a faint glittering sheen. There
was also a slight damp chill that still hung in the air.  The sedan,
driven by a Secret Service agent, pulled to a stop in front of the
house. Abbey had arranged for the agent to pick Barbara up at the
airport and bring her out to the farm. She was scheduled to take the
return flight later that night. The car's back door opened and Barbara
stepped out. Harley got up and trotted out to meet her. She greeted
Harley with a good scratching behind the ears and she waved at Donna
and then reached into the back seat and pulled out her tote bag.
Since she wasn't spending the night, the tote bag was the only luggage
she had.

Sliding the straps over her shoulder she thanked the agent and walked
toward the house with Harley in tow, "Wow, this place is amazing. Like
something out of a New England postcard," Barbara commented to Donna.

Donna stood to meet her, "I know, isn't it great? This is the third
day I've been here and I still want to pinch myself to see if I'm
dreaming."

Barbara climbed the steps to stand next to her.  "So how are you?"

"Actually, I'm doing okay," Donna said honestly. "I don't know if it's
just because we're out of the pressure of DC or because I left Sydney
behind or because this is just such an amazing place, but I like it
here. It's very peaceful." She paused, "But I'd be lying if I said I
wasn't worried about the barn. We're going to explore it today,
right?"

Barbara looked at her for a minute. "I want to talk to you a bit
before we get to that. It's a little chilly out here," she said,
rubbing her arms a bit. "Could we maybe go inside?"

"Oh, of course," Donna said, turning to go inside.  She held the door
open and Barbara and Harley walked into the house.

Barbara smiled as she looked around the living room, "Wow, I think
it's even better on the inside. The Bartlets must have a good
decorator. They've made it a nice blend of simple, country elegance
and comfortable kitsch. Definitely looks more like a home that people
actually live in than the museum I expected."

"Why, thank you," a voice from behind them said. They both turned to
see Abbey coming down the stairs. "I decorated it myself.  Well, my
daughters had some hand in it too." Abbey smiled. "You must be Dr.
Abbott."

"Oh, please just Barbara. It's a pleasure to meet you Dr. Bartlet,"
Barbara said as Abbey reached bottom of the stairs.

Abbey walked over to them. "The pleasure's mine, Barbara," Abbey said
as she reached out her hand. "And please, it's just Abbey." The two
women shook hands warmly. "We don't stand on formality here." She
paused for a moment, her gaze moving briefly to Donna then, back to
Barbara. "I understand my husband and I owe you a debt of gratitude."

Barbara frowned slightly. "Oh, why is that?"

"For not only helping Donna now but for taking care of her in the
hospital." Abbey glanced at Donna again and smiled softly. "She's very
special to us. We appreciate all you've done for her."

"Oh, no thanks needed for that," she looked at Donna, who, by now was
looking a bit overwhelmed by both of their kind words. "She's a
remarkable young woman."

Donna felt the tears threatening to gather and a huge lump lodge
itself in her throat. What these two women thought of her was
important and to hear their kind and simple words was deeply touching.
She had to swallow the lump in her throat before she was able to
speak. "Um, since Josh is working in the study, why don't we go in the
sunroom?" she managed.

Abbey noticed Donna's suspiciously bright eyes but didn't comment, "I
put a pot of tea and some refreshments in there for you two," she told
Donna. "Or would you rather have coffee, Barbara?"

"No, tea sounds perfect," she replied.

"Great, well, I'll I've got a couple of calls I need to make so I'll
see you a bit later. Oh, Barbara, would you like to stay for dinner?
I understand your flight isn't until 7:30 tonight. We're having
salmon."

"That would a welcome change from the airport food I was planning to
have.  I'd love to stay, thank you," Barbara replied.

"Great. Lunch is pretty informal around here. Whenever you're ready
for lunch Donna can show you where everything is. Just help yourself."

"Thank you," Barbara said. Abbey nodded and disappeared into the other room.

"I know you came here right from the airport. Do you need to freshen
up before we start, Barbara?" Donna asked.

"No, thanks, I'm fine."

"Well, then, come on, the sunroom is this way," Donna said.  Turning,
she lead Barbara through the living room with Harley trotting quietly
behind them.

"She's very nice," Barbara commented.

"Oh, you have no idea. The Bartlets are amazing and very kind."

"I got that impression," Barbara said as they crossed the room. "How's Josh?"

"He's good. Kind of a cross between bored out of his skull and doing
his best to enjoy a little time off. I think this is the closest thing
to a vacation he's had since he visited his mom for Thanksgiving 2
years ago. Actually he's been really great about being here and not in
Washington. Politics is his first love. He eats, drinks and sleeps it.
I was worried that he'd be climbing the walls here by now, but since
he's been able to still do a certain amount of work he's managed to
stay out of trouble. He's in the study right now trying to get some
work done and figuratively holding Sam's hand over the phone. This is
Sam's first full day filling in for Josh and I think he's panicking a
bit," Donna said as they walked into the sunroom.

"What a wonderful room," Barbara commented as Donna closed the door
behind them so they'd have some privacy. The glass walled room was
warm and inviting and contained white wicker furniture covered with
comfortable cushions decorated in a lovely floral pattern.  Even
though it was chilly outside, the double paned glass kept out the
chill while still allowing the gentle warmth of the morning sunlight
to come in and keeping the room a very comfortable temperature to sit
in. On a low white wicker coffee table in the center of the room, a
large white china tea pot sat on a wide wooden tray containing all the
necessary side items. Sugar, honey, cream, spoons, cups, and a
generous plate of baked goods.

"Abbey and I spent yesterday afternoon baking. I figured it was the
least I could do since you're always bringing the refreshments to our
sessions," Donna told her as they sat down. Harley laid down by
Donna's feet. "My mom was a good cook but she never liked baking very
much so Abbey was trying to teach me. We made chocolate chip,
molasses, and shortbread cookies. They're all good but I'd recommend
the shortbread. They're from an old recipe that's been in her family
for generations and they're wonderful," she said, referring to the
baked goods.

"I'll keep that in mind," Barbara said, pouring herself a cup of tea.
She glanced up and over Donna's shoulder. "Is that their barn?" she
asked, referring to the large white building she could just see from
her seat in the sunroom.

Donna turned and looked at the barn. "Yeah.  They have a number of
outbuildings and a stable for their horses but that's the main barn."

"Have you stayed away from it like I asked?"

"Yes, and even if I wanted to I couldn't, Abbey and Josh are keeping a
pretty close eye on me in case I'm tempted." There was no anger or
annoyance in her voice, she was simply stating a fact.

"Does that bother you?" Barbara asked taking a sip of her tea.

"No," Donna said honestly, with a shake of her head.  "I know they're
doing it because you told them to and because they care about me."

"Does it bother you that I told them to keep you away from it?"

Donna poured herself a fresh mug of tea. "No, I know that you want to
be here when I do go inside in case I have a nutty or something and to
be honest, I want you to be here too."

'She's already come a long way,' Barbara thought. She knew that there
would have been a time when being monitored even by two people, three
counting Barbara, that she trusted as much as she appeared to trust
Josh and Abbey, would have made her mad. It would have fed into her
insecurity and her feeling of being a burden. "Good, I'm glad you want
me there." She sipped her tea, "Earlier, you said you were worried
about the barn. Could you tell me some more about that?"

Donna held the steaming mug in her hands to warm them.  "Well, when I
said I was 'worried' I may have been understating it a bit. Scared
senseless is probably more accurate. Scared, but determined to see it
through."

"It's okay to be scared. It's good even. I think I'd be worried if you
weren't scared."

"Knowing that you and Josh will be there with me, helps," Donna replied.

"You want Josh to be there?" Barbara asked in a neutral voice.

"Yes, I...." She stopped.  "Is that okay?  Do you think he shouldn't
be there?" Her heart had picked up speed a bit. She needed to have him
there.

"No, I didn't mean that. Actually I think it's good that he be there.
It's just that in the past you've mentioned not wanting him to be
touched by what's happened to you. So by you wanting him there now, it
shows me how much you really trust him and how much you're beginning
to trust yourself and speak up for what you want."

Donna's heart settled a bit, "Oh...well good."

"Does the Bartlets barn look anything like the one in your nightmare?"
Barbara asked her.

Donna shook her head. "Not really. The one in my nightmare is grey and
weathered and only about half that size."

"Hmmm, I see," Barbara replied, considering that. "Donna, I'd like to
wait until Thursday for you to go into the barn."

"Why?" Donna asked, curiosity tingeing her voice. "I figured you'd
want me to just get it over with. Rip the Band-Aid off, so to speak."

"I know that it seems logical to just get it over with. But today
there are a number of things I want to talk to you about as a prelude
to going into the barn.  I want you to be in the right mindset when we
take that step," Barbara told her.

"But I've already been thinking about it," Donna told her. Her voice
was a little confused and impatient but not angry. "Isn't that
enough?"

"Well, that's a start but I'd like you to humor me on this. I swear I
wouldn't ask you to wait if I didn't think it was important." Barbara
replied.

Donna looked at her a moment and realized that in the short time she'd
known her, Barbara had always had her best interests at heart. Deep
down she knew that this was no different. "Okay, I guess I've waited
this long, I can wait until you think I'm ready." She picked up a
shortbread cookie and took a bite. "So where do we start?"

"Well, first of all I want you to do more than think about the barn.
Between now and Thursday, at least twice a day, I want you to lay down
for about 15 minutes and practice your breathing exercises.  While
you're doing that, I want you to actually picture yourself going
inside the barn.  What you think it might look like inside, the sights
and the sounds and the smells. Sort of a mental practice run."

"Okay, I can do that."

"Good," she said and took a sip of her tea and a bite of one of the
shortbread cookies. Donna was right; they were terrific. "Now, have
you had any nightmares since we talked?"

"No, none.  I've actually been sleeping pretty well," Donna told her.

"Has Josh been staying with you at night?" Donna had told her a while
ago about the fact that Josh seemed to keep the nightmares at bay.

"Yeah, is that okay?" Donna asked, the trepidation in her voice evident.

"For right now, I think it's a good idea. I know sleeping has been a
problem for you and right now I want you to be as rested as possible.
If you and Josh are comfortable with the arrangement then I think it's
best for the time being. But...there will come a time when we will
want to try and get you to be able to sleep on your own. Okay?" Donna
nodded an looked a bit relieved. "Now, have you had any bouts of anger
or wanting to cut yourself?"

"No, but since I've been out of the hospital, things have been pretty
quiet. I think sleeping better and having a break from Sydney has
helped." She paused. "And to be honest, I think it was easier to cut
myself when no one knew about it. Now that people know, it's harder
because I know they'll be disappointed in me if they find out I've
relapsed, which, as you know, is something that I can't stand."

"Right, I know that's something that would hurt you deeply," Barbara replied.

Donna sat back in her chair, "Barbara, do you think that I can stop
cutting just as quickly as I started? That maybe these two times were
just isolated incidents that can be chalked up to the attack and all
the stress of work and Sydney?"

Barbara didn't answer right away. "Donna. You and I both know that
these weren't isolated incidents. This has happened before," she said
gently. "Hasn't it?"

Donna blinked, "What....I don't know what you mean?"

"What about the other scars on your legs?" Barbara asked softly.

Donna stared at her a moment, her eyes first going blank and then
tearfully filling with fear. "How did you know?" she asked in a
whisper. "How could you possibly know about that?"

"Well, the scars kind of gave it away," Barbara replied gently. "Plus
something your mother said."

Donna looked confused. "My mother?  How would my mother know I cut
myself after what happened with Cliff?"

Now it was Barbara's turn to look confused. "Cliff? You mentioned him
before.  Donna, who's Cliff?"

"He was...." Donna stopped, then stiffened, "Wait. You weren't talking
about Cliff, were you?  What where you talking about?"

"We'll get to that in a minute.  Who was Cliff and what happened with
him to make you cut yourself?"

Donna looked at her, "I can't. I thought maybe Josh told you about
Cliff." Although she could see now what a stupid assumption that was.
"He doesn't know about the other part. I promised Josh I would never
say anything about the part he was involved in. He and I could both
get in a LOT of trouble," she replied.

"Donna...I already told you that anything you tell me is in the
strictest of doctor patient confidentiality."

"Even if it put you in contempt of Congress and me and Josh along with
you?" Donna blurted.

Barbara looked at her for a moment, "I wouldn't tell anyone. Not Josh,
not the President, not Congress, not God himself could make me say
anything about what you tell me."

Now that she'd taken the top off the bottle, she realized she wanted
to tell someone about what had happened that night after she'd gotten
back from the meeting with Josh and Cliff.  "I...." she began
haltingly.  "Cliff was a Republican lawyer that a friend fixed me up
with on a blind date.  When I agreed to go out with him, he worked in
the majority counsel's office in the House but by the time we went
out, he'd been moved to House Ways and Means. Ways and Means was in
charge of investigating the President and the White House when the
information about the President's illness was revealed."

"Oh, and it was a conflict of interest for you to date him," Barbara
said, filling in the blank.

"Yes, and when Cliff found out who I worked for he rather abruptly
ended our first date, although at the time I didn't realize why,"
Donna explained. "But he showed up at my apartment two days later to
apologize and explain why he'd left so quickly." Donna paused. "You
know, looking back I don't know how it happened or why. I knew it was
a mistake. At the time, life was really stressful. It seemed like we
were being attacked by everyone and we were all under a microscope.
Cliff was cute and nice and I guess it was something similar to what
happened when I came onto Josh recently. I wanted something to fill
the emptiness, something to let me remember what it was like to feel
normal again. He went to kiss me goodbye and the next thing I knew we
were tumbling into bed. It was quick and he left right after, saying
that we couldn't see each other again. The bad part was I didn't even
have an orgasm and I felt worse after he left and not better."

"Do you know why?" Barbara asked her quietly.

Donna looked at her a moment, "Because it was wrong and because I knew
that I had to tell Josh. Not about the sex part but about dating him.
He would need to know in case anything happened."

"And did you tell him?"

Tears swam in Donna's eyes for a moment but didn't fall. "Yes. The
look on his face...." she couldn't say the words.

"What? What was the look on his face?" Barbara urged her gently.

Donna's eyes were unfocused for a moment as she was lost in the
memory, then her tear-filled eyes focused back in on Barbara, "Angry,
hurt and most of all, disappointed.  I remember thinking that I would
rather die than do anything to ever put that look back on his face
because of me." A tear trailed down her cheek.

"And that's why you cut yourself that time?"

Donna laughed hollowly, "Oh, no. Not then. You know how there are
times when fate turns around and kicks you when you're down?"  Barbara
nodded. "Well, it just didn't kick me, it DROP kicked me." She paused
and took a breath. "Before the President accepted the Congressional
censure over impeachment, a few of us had to testify. I was one of the
first. You'll never guess who the lead counsel was for the House
during my deposition."

"Cliff?" Donna nodded. "Well, I agree that's bad but how does that
merit what you said about contempt of Congress? At worst it just
sounds like a conflict of interest," Barbara said.

"Wait, there's more. One of the questions they asked, was if I kept a
journal or a diary. And without even thinking I said no."

"But you did keep a diary," Barbara said.

"I wasn't trying to lie, I just didn't see how it was relevant," Donna
told her. "There was nothing in it about the President." Barbara
nodded and Donna continued. "When I got back from the deposition,
Cliff was waiting on my front step. He asked me why I lied about the
diary. I denied that I'd lied and he said he knew I was lying because
he'd seen the diary when he'd been in my bedroom."

Barbara understood the ramifications and was horrified. "Oh, my God,
Donna. What did you do?"

"There wasn't much I could do. He threatened to reveal that I was
lying and I asked him what he was going to say exactly? That he'd seen
it when he was hunting around for his boxer shorts?"

"Wow, Donna.  Good one," Barbara said with a smirk. "What he'd say to that?"

"He didn't seem to especially appreciate it. So I did the only thing I
could think of, I told him he shouldn't be there and we shouldn't be
talking and I went inside." She paused. "But I knew that I had to tell
Josh so he could protect the President and I knew that he would tell
me what to do. And when I did, he was angry and disappointed all over
again. It was worse that time, much worse, because he was already
disappointed in me from before and we both knew that this time it
could have affected the President as well. Josh could have hung me out
to dry.  He could have tossed me over to save himself and the
President. But he took care of it. He fixed it quickly and quietly and
made a deal that satisfied Cliff's need to know what was in the
diary." She paused and lowered her head, "But it hurt our relationship
for a long time."

"And that was why you cut yourself?"

Donna looked up at her again, "Yes. After I got back from the thing
with Josh and Cliff, I....it's a little fuzzy, but...I was so angry at
myself, the knife just seemed to appear in my hand and then it was
done and I felt better. I remembered that night the first time I cut
myself recently. I remembered how it seemed to release the anger and
the pain."

Barbara was quiet for a moment, "What thoughts were going through your
mind that night after your meeting with Cliff and Josh?"

"I should have been more careful. It was all my fault. If Cliff hadn't
turned out to be a decent guy, I could have gone to jail, Josh could
have gone to jail for helping me, and the President....it could have
made things look very bad for the President. It was all my fault," she
repeated. "I'd become a burden. And to top it all off, I'd had sex
with Cliff when....when..." The thought trailed off into nothing,
although Donna didn't know why.

"When what you really wanted to do was have sex with Josh," Barbara finished.

Donna stared at her.  "I didn't...."

Barbara's eyes bored into hers. "Donna, we've already established that
you had feelings for Josh. And from what I know about Josh he's pretty
dedicated to his job and the President. So if you were feeling the
stress of that time, I know Josh had to be feeling it too. Are you
telling me that you didn't want to comfort him? That you didn't want
to temporarily take the pain away for both of you?"

She got up and walked to the window, "No....I....."

"Donna..." Barbara said, softly, not moving from her spot on the
couch. "Don't you think that may be another reason why the sex with
Cliff was so unsatisfying? Because he wasn't Josh?"

Tears blurred Donna's vision for a moment and she leaned forward to
rest her head against the glass, "Yes," she whispered, as the tears
trailed down her cheeks. "I wanted to be there for Josh, with Josh,
but it was...impossible."

"And so you had sex with Cliff as a substitute, which actually, given
the circumstances is pretty understandable," Barbara said gently and
with kind understanding in her voice. "And then it came around and bit
you in the ass and made Josh get involved in something you didn't want
Josh anywhere near."

"Yes."

Barbara sighed, "Well, Donna you had every reason to be angry. Your
mistake was turning all of your anger onto yourself. Yes, you made a
mistake by sleeping with Cliff but you were human and you didn't do it
to hurt anyone. Fate just decided it was your turn to get a beating.
And no, you shouldn't have lied about the diary in the deposition, but
I'm assuming that you had a damn good reason." She paused, "There's
more to it than you just thinking it wasn't relevant, isn't there?"

Donna took a breath and raised her head to look out the window at the
lake but didn't answer.

"Donna, who or what were you protecting in the diary?" Although she
thought she already knew the answer, she wanted Donna to say it out
loud.

The answer was a long time in coming and it was a choked whisper when
it did. "Josh," she said, confirming Barbara's guess. Donna sniffed,
trying to keep the tears at bay. "Everything in it was about Josh.
From the mundane to the stalker-worthy, was in there. When he first
hired me, the shooting, his recovery, his PTSD and everything else.  I
couldn't say things about them out loud so I wrote them down."

Barbara sat back and sighed. "Wow," she said. "Donna, if I haven't
told you before, I think you're pretty amazing."

Donna hadn't been expecting that response and she turned to face
Barbara. "What....why?"

"Don't you see? By lying in the deposition, you were protecting Josh.
Protecting him to the point where it could have cost you everything,
including him. If someone did that for me, I don't know what I'd do.
That's just...quite simply...amazing. Did Josh ever find out what was
in the diary?"

"NO!" Donna replied. "And he's never going to know."

'Well,' Barbara thought to herself. 'I'd be willing to bet that even
though he doesn't know what's in the diary, he probably had feelings
for you even then or he wouldn't have risked himself and the President
to fix what happened.' But she knew that Donna wasn't in a place
emotionally to hear that. "Okay. And as we discussed, he won't hear it
from me," she said.  Donna seemed to relax at her reassurance. "You
want to take a break before we go any farther?"

Donna walked back over and sat down. "No," she said with another sniff
and wiped away the remaining dampness in her eyes. "Unless you need a
break."

"No, I'm good," Barbara said. Pouring Donna a fresh mug of tea, she
handed it and a tissue to her.

"Thanks," Donna said with a tumultuous smile as she took them. She
blew her nose and took a sip of tea to fortify herself. "Now if you
weren't talking about Cliff when we started this discussion, what were
you talking about?"

Barbara looked at her squarely, "I was referring to the other scars on
your legs.  The ones from when you were younger."

Donna frowned. "The ones from when I was younger?"

Barbara watched as Donna's eyes went blank just a little too long.
"Donna? Donna, look at me."

Donna's eyes snapped back into focus. "What?"

"Tell me about the other scars on your legs," Barbara repeated gently.
 "How did you get them?"

Her frown deepened and her head began to throb ever so slightly. "How
did I get them? When...when I was twelve I.....I ran through a sliding
glass door and....." she trailed off and rubbed her temple. Things
seemed to tumble over each other in her mind. It was the oddest
sensation. As if she was seeing two versions of the same story. Both
were fuzzy but the sliding door story was familiar and....safe. But
the other one was.....floating quietly to the surface, almost like a
dead body that's released from its bonds at the bottom of a body of
water will sometimes float to the surface. Donna wrapped her arms
around herself, as if to ward off a sudden chill. "I ran through a
sliding glass...." she said again, this time almost to herself. "I
ran..." The more she said it the more it seemed to be less and less
familiar. Then, as the other story cleared the surface, the sliding
door story shattered into a thousand pieces, leaving only the other
one as the true explanation.

"Oh, God," she whispered, in utter and complete horror and shock.
Unconsciously, Donna's hand moved to cover her mouth and her eyes slid
closed. Tears began to run in a steady stream from under her closed
lids and down her cheeks.

"Donna? What is it?" Barbara asked her gently.

Donna's hand dropped from her mouth but her eyes remained closed and
she spoke in a voice thick with tears. "I always said....I always
thought....it was the sliding glass door."

"But it wasn't, was it?" Barbara said.

Donna's eyes fluttered open and the tears continued to flow, making
her eyes look huge and full of pain. "No, it wasn't. I did it.  I did
it all. That's when it all started. That's when I started cutting
myself."

"Yes, Donna. That's right. You did," Barbara said, handing her another
tissue. "Okay, Donna, I think we need to step back here just a little.
Why don't you lay back and take some cleansing breaths."

Barbara moved to one of the chairs so Donna could stretch out on the
wicker couch. She watched as Donna wiped her face with the tissue,
blew her nose and started her breathing exercises. It took a little
while to bring herself under control.

Donna finally opened her eyes but she didn't move to sit up, "How did
you know?" Donna asked her.

"When you were in the hospital Josh told me about the sliding glass
door and I suspected that maybe something else was at work," Barbara
explained. "The cuts were too confined and too precise to be from
running through a door or falling on some glass. Then when I talked to
your mother she confirmed it."

"She knew?" Donna asked. "I don't remember her knowing."

"Yes, she knew," Barbara replied.  "She said she even put a stop to
it, but I suspect what she really did was cause you to hide it
better."

"I wasn't trying to lie, you know. Until a few minutes ago, I honestly
thought that I went through a sliding glass door," Donna told her.

"I didn't think you were lying, Donna. I always say that you have to
be aware that what you're saying is not true to be lying," she said,
echoing words she told Josh the week before.

"But how could I not remember?" Donna asked her.

"The mind has an interesting way of protecting itself. In this case, I
imagine the truth was too difficult and your mind constructed an
alternate one and convinced itself that the new story was the truth."

"But why did I remember the truth now?"

Barbara looked at her for a moment, "I could give you a long drawn out
answer but the truth is...you remembered because you were ready to
remember."

Donna laid there for a moment and then chuckled. "You make it sound so simple."

"Well, on some levels it is that simple and on others it's horribly
complicated. The mind does things in its own time and in its own way."
She paused. "Donna, do you remember why were cutting yourself back
then?"

Donna thought hard about it for a moment. Part of her hoped that the
truth would surface like it had a few moments ago but she was
disappointed. "No. I mean I remember being upset but not....about
what."

Barbara decided not to press that exact button any further for the
moment. "Donna, do you mind if we switch channels a bit?"

"No, I don't mind," Donna said, sitting up and taking a sip of her now
tepid tea.

"We've talked a bit about your mother but you've never mentioned your
father. What's your relationship with him like?"

Donna took another sip of her tea. "I'm not sure I'd go so far as to
say it's a relationship. He was never what you'd call an involved
parent. I did my best to stay out of his way. It made life simpler all
the way around."

"Why? What would have happened if he thought you were 'in his way'?"

"He would have gotten angry and annoyed and he would have started
fighting with my mother and telling her she was a bad parent because
she couldn't keep me under control. Then, when they were done
fighting, my mother would have gotten mad at me.  It's how things
worked. Kind of the shit rolls downhill theory of parenting, with me
being at the bottom of the hill," Donna explained as if that was a
perfectly normal answer. "It wasn't like I was missing out on
anything. My dad's idea of a good time is a cold beer and a night in
front of the TV or a night out with his buddies."

"What did he do for a living?"

"He was a long haul truck driver. So there were long periods where he
wasn't home," Donna explained.

"Did he ever hit you or hurt you?" Barbara asked, trying to find out
if the abuse she suspected might have come from Donna's father.

"No, my mother was always the disciplinarian and even she only slapped
me a couple of times. She seemed to prefer the closet.  I think she
liked the out of sight, out of mind aspect of it. No, my father's
philosophy was that he's the head of the house and that he kept
control of my mother and it was my mother's job to keep control of
me." Donna frowned. "Oh, except for one time." Her frown deepened as
she remembered.  "God, I'd forgotten about that," her voice was tinged
with a touch of revulsion.

"What?  What happened that time?"

Donna looked at her with dry but slightly angry eyes. "He just....he
just hit me, that's all. It was the only time he ever did."
Unconsciously she rubbed her cheek.

"Why did he hit you?"

"I don't want....do I have to tell you?" Donna asked.

"No, like I keep saying you don't HAVE to tell me anything, but I'd
like you to tell me, it gives me a picture of your home life and what
things were like when you were growing up," Barbara told her.

Donna sighed.  "I think I was about 14. It was a Saturday and I'd
spent the night at a friends house for a slumber party. I wasn't
supposed to be home until after lunch but I'd kind of had a fight with
one of my friends at the party and so I came home early.  Mom was gone
that week to visit her sister, but my dad was between trucking jobs so
he was at home. My friends house wasn't far so I walked home fairly
early that morning. I had a my own key so I let myself in."

She paused. "To get to my bedroom I had to walk past my parents' room.
I came upstairs and heard noises from their bedroom. I....they usually
kept the door shut when they were in there but it was open this time.
I tried to sneak past so they wouldn't know I was home but something
caught my eye. I hadn't meant to stop in the doorway but my feet
seemed to have other ideas. My father was there....he was....she....,"
she felt a little nauseous by that point and took a deep breath to try
and ease it. "He was having sex with someone. Someone who was not my
mother. I didn't mean to make any noise, I don't REMEMBER making any
noise but something made him turn and look and he saw me."

She laid back on the couch and tried to keep her breathing steady.
"Suddenly my feet seemed to remember how to move because I remember
running down the hall to my room. But he chased me and he was faster.
He grabbed me by the ponytail to stop me, turned me around and shoved
me against the wall. Then he backhanded me, hard. He said something to
the effect that the hit would teach me not to spy on people and that
if I ever told my mother what I'd seen he'd make me wish I were dead."

Barbara let out a breath. Things had just been worse and worse in
Donna's young life. "Donna, after everything you told me I want to
make sure...you know that's not how families are supposed to work,
right?" Barbara asked.

"Oh, of course.  I know we were poster children for the dysfunctional
family. Like I said, I did have friends.  Friends who I tried to spend
as much time with as possible so I didn't have to go home and who had
families that took trips together and went camping together and didn't
slam doors or scream angry words at eat other." She looked at Barbara.
"Or lock their kids in closets as punishment."

Barbara nodded, "These parents of your friends, were they your only
positive role models growing up?"

"No, there were my grandparents," she said, a note of love evident in her voice.

After what Donna's mother had said about her grandmother spoiling
Donna, Barbara had been planning on getting to them anyway, so she
encouraged Donna to continue. "Oh, tell me about them. Were they your
mother's parents or your father's?"

"I never knew my mother's parents.  They died when I was only a baby.
But I spent a lot of time with my father's parents. They lived near us
when I was growing up and since I always seemed to be in the way at
home, my mother had no problem sending me over to their house." She
smiled. "My grandmother loved to sew and she would make clothes for me
and my dolls and she'd play cards and games with me. My grandfather
worked for the Post Office so I didn't see him too much if I was there
on a weekday, but sometimes he came home for lunch and he'd pick me up
and give me a kiss on the forehead and he'd ask how his favorite
granddaughter was. Then we'd have lunch and Grandma would cut the
crusts off my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Grandpa would
tell me funny stories and make funny faces. I had my own corner of the
den, my grandmother even put up a little sign that said, 'Donna's
Place' and my grandfather made little shelves for me there to put
things on. They told me that I could keep anything there I wanted to.
Books and crayons and toys, pretty stones, pictures I'd drawn,
anything I wanted. They gave me Zane," she said, referring to the grey
rabbit that was sitting on her bed upstairs.

Donna paused as she remembered. "But what I really liked was when I
got to spend the night at their house. My grandmother was a great cook
and she'd always make something I really liked, like homemade macaroni
and cheese or meatloaf. Then the three of us would wash the dishes and
clean up the kitchen and then sit and watch TV. When it was time for
bed they'd tuck me in and Grandpa would tell me a bedtime story and
stay with me until I fell asleep." She looked at Barbara.  "It was all
so....normal." She smiled.  Her eyes filled with tears. "I loved them
a lot."

"Where are they now?" Barbara asked gently.

"They both died in a car accident when I was 12," Donna whispered
painfully. "I miss them very much."

Now Barbara understood. That was how Donna had most likely come out of
such a bad home life largely unscathed. Her grandparents had been the
surrogate parents she'd needed for a loving foundation. But she
wondered briefly how such apparently nice people, like Donna's
grandparents, could have such a bastard for a son. Well, she knew that
being a bad or unhappy person did not necessarily mean you came from a
bad or broken home.  Most of the time, if a child was caught early
enough a huge change could be made in their lives with love and
understanding. But there were times when people just seemed to be born
to be mean or hateful or abusive and nothing in their lives was ever
going to change them. "Donna, did they know how your parents were
treating you?"

"I think so.  I remember....I remember that when I was about 10, I
heard my grandparents arguing with my parents one night after they
thought I'd gone to sleep. Something about how they wanted me to live
with them all the time but my parents said that I was their daughter
and I belonged with them.  I think my grandfather said something about
an attorney but my father said they had no proof since no one had laid
a finger on me and I had clothes on my back and food in my stomach and
that if they tried to do anything, they'd never get to see me at all."

'So,' Barbara thought. 'Her grandparents had tried to get her away
from her parents but failed.'  She also noted that Donna's
grandparents had died when she was twelve.  It seemed like a lot had
happened to Donna around the time she was twelve. From what her mother
had said, Donna had also gone to the farm the summer she was twelve.
"Do you remember what time of year it was when your grandparents
died?"

Donna thought for a moment, "It was early in the year, in the winter.
They hit some ice and their car skidded off the road and down an
embankment."

"How did your family react?"

"They were upset, in fact I think my parents seemed to fight more than
ever after my grandparents died. But I seem to remember being more
upset than anyone else. Well, except for my Uncle Tim.  He was pretty
upset too," Donna said absently.

'Hmmm,' Barbara thought. 'Here's where we hear about the elusive
uncle.' She took a sip of tea. "You know, I don't think you've ever
mentioned your uncle.  Can you tell me about him?"

Donna looked at her a bit blankly for a moment, "My uncle?" She
blinked. "He was married to my mother's sister, Ruth. They never had
any children. I think my Aunt Ruth had some kind of gynecological
problems and couldn't get pregnant."

"What was he like?"

"My uncle?" she asked again, looking a little blank. "He was.....he
was nice enough, I guess. I don't really remember him too much. I only
saw him and my Aunt Ruth a couple of times. They died when I was...."
she trailed off for a moment and rubbed her forehead again as her
headache seemed to reappear. "13, I think."

"How did they die?" Barbara asked, knowing that they were very close
to something.

Donna's eyes were a bit unfocused as she turned to stare at the
distant barn and when she spoke, her voice was halting and quiet. "He
died....they died....they....in a fire. I don't remember the exact
details. Something about my Uncle drinking and smoking a cigarette and
there was a fire.  My Aunt tried to save him or something and she was
killed too." She frowned suddenly and stiffened as another memory
surfaced, only a flash really, appearing just long enough for her to
understand it. "Barbara....." she said in a voice tinged with shock
and confusion as she continued to stare at the barn.

"Yes, Donna? What is it?"

Her hand covered her mouth in shock for a moment, then dropped to her
lap. "My Aunt and Uncle. They had a....farm. In Iowa." She paused. "My
parents sent me there the summer right after my Grandparents died."
Donna tore her gaze away from the barn and turned back to Barbara. Her
eyes were confused as she spoke, "There was a barn on their farm. A
barn just like the one in my nightmare."

**********

"And then the President will be meeting with the Chinese ambassador to
lay the ground work for the upcoming trade talks scheduled for after
the first of the year," CJ told the press during the Monday evening
briefing. "Yes, Katie?"

"CJ, can you tell me if there's any truth the reports that Josh Lyman,
Sam Seaborn and the First Lady were seen in the GW emergency room last
week? And if so does it have any connection to the fact that Josh is
now on a sudden and extended leave of absence and the First Lady is
missing from the White House?"

If there was one thing that CJ prided herself on, it was the fact that
she rarely let the press corps blindside her with questions or when
they did, she was ready with a response that would somehow get her
and, consequently the White House, out of trouble. But as she hadn't
expected this at all, she literally was speechless for a moment. When
her brain picked up the ball, she had to punt and do what she didn't
like to do when talking to the press.  Lie her ass off. "Wow, Katie,
that's quite the conspiracy you've put together there. But as we all
know, Josh and Sam are hopeless when it comes to stealth, so lumping
them into any conspiracy theory is a clue to the inaccuracy of your
information." 'Well, that was saying a lot by saying nothing,' CJ
thought.

"Then you don't know anything about the other reports that Josh Lyman
was also seen on the same day, entering the GW psychiatric ward and
then visiting a room in GWs regular patient ward the next day? A room
guarded by a plain clothes officer of an undetermined organization?"

CJ smirked and hoped it was somewhere near convincing. "And the
conspiracy grows.  It sounds like you've got your own personal X-Files
script there, Katie."

"CJ..." Katie said, a little exasperated.

"Well, Katie, from time to time we may all think that Josh is a little
crazy but I don't know anything about him being anywhere near the GW
psych ward, the emergency room, regular ward, or for that matter, the
grassy knoll." She took a breath. "As it was announced, Josh, for
reasons he did not care to share with me or anyone else except Leo
McGarry, asked for and was granted a leave of absence. Sam Seaborn,
who has recently returned to DC from California to start a law
practice is filling in while Josh is gone because he knows the
dynamics of the White House and the politics of DC. The First Lady
decided to take some time up at the Manchester House to take care of a
few personal matters, the details of which she also did not deem
necessary to explain to me. It is a complete coincidence that Josh
Lyman and the First Lady are out of the building at the same time."

Danny raised his hand and CJ jumped on it as an opportunity to get off
the topic of Josh and the First Lady. "Danny?"

"Do you know the whereabouts of Josh's assistant, Sydney Collins? She
seems to have disappeared about the time Josh allegedly started
showing up at GW and now she's apparently disappeared from the White
House altogether. Care to comment?"

Two blindside punches in one briefing, she was definitely slipping.
"Wow, I see that Katie isn't the only one that's caught conspiracy
fever. What? Are you all drinking the same Kool-aid in the press room
now?"

"CJ......" Danny began.

"Yes, Daniel, I'd be happy to comment on your question.  Sydney
finally had enough of Josh's tyrannical attitude and she quit to go
back to California where she's originally from.  As I recall she's
planning to get her education credential and go into teaching third
graders, which she said would be one step up from working for Josh."
CJ closed her briefing book. "Now, since you've all seemed to run out
questions that don't rate a visit from Mulder and Scully, that's a
full lid." She picked up her notes and left the podium.

Toby was waiting for her in the hall. "Well, that was fun."

"Yeah, just like getting a bikini wax."

"Sounds about right," Toby said, as they walked down the hall toward
CJ's office.

"Like you'd know anything about what that feels like."

"I'm a writer, I can, you know, imagine," he replied.

"I don't think Danny will press for anything else on Sydney, he's
already lost the pool to see how long she'd stay. I think he just
wanted confirmation so he could be sure I didn't win," she said as the
two of them walked into her office. "BUT we're going to need to work
on a better story about Josh and the First Lady because the longer
they're BOTH gone, the more questions the press is going to have."

"Yeah," Toby said, as he closed the door to her office and they got to work.

**********

"Donna? Don't you like your dinner? I could make you something else."
Abbey asked her as she watched the young woman push the food around on
her plate. Ever since Donna and Barbara had finished their session,
Donna had been withdrawn. She'd hardly spoken more than five words
since they'd sat down to eat dinner.

"Oh, no, I love salmon. I guess I'm not hungry," Donna said.
"Actually, if it's all right, I'd like to be excused." So many things
seemed to be going through her head right now.  So much information.
So many questions. Food and eating just weren't big priorities at that
moment. Today's session has opened up more cans of worms than it had
closed. Even though she hadn't been able to remember anything more
about her Aunt and Uncle or that summer she'd spent on their farm or
their barn, she knew that's probably where the answers to all her
questions were.  She just wished the idea of exploring that, of
finding those answers, didn't scare her so much.

"Are you feeling all right?" Abbey asked her.

"Yes, I feel okay. I'm just not hungry," Donna replied quietly.

"Well, then of course you can be excused, Donna. Just put your plate
in the in sink for me if you will," she replied.

"Of course I will," Donna said as she stood and cleared her place.
"I'm just going to go lie on the couch and watch some TV if anyone
needs me."

"Sure. I'll come in and check on your a little later," Abbey told her.

Harley trotted after Donna as she left the room. Abbey and Josh looked
pointedly at Barbara, "Now you two can just stop looking at me like
that," Barbara said.  "You know I can't tell you what we talked about.
Donna's just dealing with a lot right now. Josh, I told you this would
happen. She's not going to get better overnight, but I swear to you
both that in talking to her, she IS getting better and I have every
reason to believe that she'll come through this whole thing just fine.
 She may be a bit different when she gets there, no one could go
through the attack she went through and not be changed by it, but she
WILL come through it." She took a sip of wine. "I also want you to
know, and I've told Donna that I would be telling you this.  Thursday,
we're going to be going into the barn. Now, I don't know what's going
to happen when we do but in my opinion it will either be all or
nothing.  Either she won't really remember anything new or she's going
to remember all of it. And if she remembers all of it, I imagine it's
going to be traumatic. I just wanted you both to be ready." She looked
at both of them.  "Abbey, I think it would be better if you stayed
here in the house and kept as many people as possible away from the
barn."

"I'll tell the Secret Service to keep their distance," Abbey replied.

"And Josh, I think it's vitally important that you be there with her.
She looks to you for support and strength and she's going to need both
on Thursday."

Josh sat back in his chair, "She and I have already talked about it.
Wild horses couldn't keep me from being there with her."

Barbara smiled. "Good."

"Well, if you ladies will excuse me," Josh said, standing up. "I think
I'll clear my place and go and check on her."

"Of course, Josh." Abbey said as he cleared away his dishes and
disappeared into the other room to find Donna.

Abbey took the last sip of her wine, "So, Barbara, what made you want
to change from neurosurgery to psychology?" Abbey asked her.

"Ah, you checked up on me," Barbara said with a grin.

"Well, actually the Secret Service did, I just asked them for a copy
of the report," Abbey told her.  "I hope that doesn't offend you."

"On the contrary, I assumed the Secret Service would do a complete and
thorough background check and as for you wanting to read the report, I
would expect no less from someone who cared about Donna, especially
with all the difficulties she had with her former therapist." Barbara
finished the last of her salmon. After chewing it completely and
swallowing, she spoke. "As for your earlier question, actually I see
the field of neurosurgery and psychology as being the different sides
of the same coin."

She paused and took a drink of her wine. "For the most part, both deal
with the intricacies of the mind. But when dealing with the mind,
there is so much more to it than just neural pathways and blood
vessels and brain hemispheres that you see as a neurologist. It's also
about emotion and personality, memory and pain and pleasure and love
and hate. Although I found the medical and technical aspects of the
mind interesting, the psychology of the mind I find utterly
fascinating. And what's more no two people are alike.  Oh, everyone
has two brain hemispheres and a brain stem and sets of blood vessels
in the brain.  But no two people have the same personality or the same
psychological make-up.  It's never boring and never lets me be
complacent. Plus the fact that I can help people that are really
hurting." She sat back in her chair, "Well, would you like some help
with the dishes before I have that hunky secret service agent drive me
back to the airport?"

Abbey grinned, "I'd love it." The two women cleared the table and
started washing and drying the dishes.

"I assume you haven't been doing much thoracic surgery while your
husband has been in office, Abbey.  Do you miss it?"

"Oh, I see someone has been doing some checking of their own." Abbey
smiled as she rinsed the soap off the plate and handed it to Barbara.

Barbara smiled as she took the plate, "Guilty.  I tried to do a little
background work on all the principal people in Donna's life. Although
it was no where near the scope and depth of the report I'm sure the
Secret Service gave you on me."

"I'm sure. The Secret Service is nothing if not thorough," Abbey told her.

"Well, sometimes it can help me when I'm trying to decide how to
approach someone's therapy if I know all the players and what part
they have in my patient's life."

"I can understand that," Abbey said as she scrubbed lightly on a pan.
"But to answer your question, I do miss surgery. Politics is so
nebulous, nothing is black and white.  It all depends on whose
spinning what as to how things come out.  I miss the order and the
structure of thoracic surgery. When you're operating on someone's
heart there's very little ambiguity."

"Excellent point," Barbara agreed. "Are you planning on going back to
it after you leave office?"

Abbey handed her the now clean pan and watched at Barbara dried it.
She wouldn't normally say such things, such intensely personal things,
to someone she didn't know that well, but this woman had done right by
Donna and there was a certain level of trust she seemed to foster,
plus the fact that she was a doctor and would understand what was
involved. Leaning a hip against the counter, Abbey said what was on
her mind "I don't know. Part of me would like to, but as time passes,
Jed's MS is likely going to come out of remission and he's going to
need me. Which, all things considered is not a big sacrifice on my
part. In a contest between my medical career and Jed, he wins every
time."

"You love him very much, don't you?" Barbara said quietly.

"Very much." Tears swam unexpectedly in Abbey's eyes. She smiled and
turned back to the dishes. "Of course we argue and occasionally fight
and he makes me want to deck him once in a while but then he does
something or says just the right thing or looks at me in that way that
he reserves only for me and I remember why I married him and why I've
put up with all the crap and the campaigning and all the difficulties
that a life in politics has brought us." She paused as she washed out
the last glass. "In a way, I'm looking forward to the end of his term
and getting my husband back.  Of course, I'm going to have to get him
a hobby or within a month he'll probably make me insane by being
underfoot but I still wouldn't trade it for anything."

Barbara was quiet for a moment, "So do you have any insight into our
two friends out there?" She said jerking her head toward the living
room.

"Josh and Donna?" Abbey asked.  "Yeah.  He loves her and she loves
him. I knew it from back during first campaign. At first he didn't
realize it, jackass was in denial most of the time and I think he used
the fact that he's her boss as an excuse because what he felt for her
scared the crap out of him. I think her attack shook him up and really
made him realize how much she means to him. Of course, he still can't
tell her how he feels because of what she's going through right now.
As for her, at first I think it was more of a crush than anything else
but after he was shot, I think she fell for him, hard. You could see
the pain in her eyes when she sat with him in the hospital. If he'd
died, I think she'd would have followed him. She also used the fact
that he's her boss to keep them apart. To this day, I look at them
together and it's like seeing two halves of the same whole. I never
saw two people who belonged together more.  Well, except maybe me and
Jed." Abbey said with a smile.

"Well, I'm a great believer that things happen in their own time and I
firmly believe that their time is coming."

Abbey pulled the plug on the drain and looked at her for a minute.
"You're worried about Thursday and the barn, aren't you?"

Barbara sighed.  "Without going into it, I think it's going to come
down on the traumatic side and it's going to be bad for her. I think,
no, I KNOW, that she can get through it but the initial trauma is
going to be severe. I don't like to see anyone go through pain, but in
this case I think she has to face what's coming if she ever wants to
be whole again." Barbara smiled at Abbey, "But she's got one big thing
working in her favor, she has all of you to support her."

Abbey glanced at the clock above the kitchen doorway.  "Oh, we'd
better get you on your way or you'll be late for your plane." Abbey
ushered her out of the kitchen.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Abbey.  It's been a pleasure meeting
you and being here," she told Abbey as they walked to the living room
where they presumed they'd find, Donna and Josh and where Barbara had
also left her bag.

A roaring fire was blazing in the wide living room fireplace and the
TV was on and turned to CNN but the sound was turned down low enough
so that it could just be heard over the crackling of the fire. Except
for the fire and the low sound of the TV, the room was quiet. A huge
sectional sofa wound through the room, but from the back, Abbey didn't
see anyone sitting on it. She leaned over to see if they were sitting
on the floor and smiled.  She motioned to Barbara who leaned over as
well. She too smiled at the scene.

Josh and Donna were stretched out together on the deep cushions of the
couch. Josh was lying up against the back of the sofa on his side
watching TV. Donna was on her side, facing him, her head resting on
the front of his shoulder, her face buried against his neck, sound
asleep.  His arm was thrown securely around her waist, making sure she
didn't roll backwards off the couch. Their legs were comfortably
tangled together. Harley lay on the floor between the couch and the
large coffee table, also sound asleep. As he saw them, Josh raised his
finger to his lips to tell them to be quiet so they didn't wake Donna.

Abbey and Barbara both waved to him in understanding and after picking
up Barbara's bag, walked to the front door. Abbey smiled as they
stepped outside into the cool night air. "See what I mean? Two halves
of the same whole."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 31 - MATURE



Abbey sat playing cards at the dining room table. It was mid-morning
on Tuesday and she'd just finished talking her with her office on some
lingering issues, including the questions that CJ had gotten during
the evening briefing the day before. Breakfast had been a quiet
affair. Donna was still being quiet and introspective but Abbey took
it as a small victory that she'd gotten her to eat a piece of toast
and half an apple and drink a cup of tea. Josh had read the paper at
the table and gone through 2 cups of coffee and a large bowl of cereal
without breaking a sweat. Being away from DC had done nothing to
dampen his appetite. Currently, he was in the study, finishing up
senior staff, which he'd been attending via speaker phone. Donna,
needing some fresh air, had taken Harley for a walk.

Giving up on her current game, Abbey swept up the cards and dealt out
a new hand of solitaire. Hearing footsteps, she looked up to find Josh
standing in the doorway.  "Hey, Josh.  How'd staff go this morning?"

"Fine," he kind of half grumbled, bouncing in place a bit. He was the
perfect picture of excess energy. "Just wish Sam wasn't so good at
doing MY job."

Abbey tried to hide her smirk, "A case of the pupil surpassing the master?"

"Something like that," he grumbled. "Do you know where Donna is?"

Abbey turned over a card, "She took Harley for a walk."

Josh walked over to the window and looked out.  It hadn't taken long
for the rest of the summer green to disappear from the landscape. Now
everything had been completely painted by the colors of autumn and a
continual brisk snap seemed to hang in the air. With the leaves
already beginning to fall, soon even the autumn colors would be gone.
Winter usually came early and stayed late in New Hampshire.  Since
they'd planned to stay at the farm until just after Thanksgiving, they
were almost assured to have at least one snow fall while they were
there. "It's pretty cold outside, did you make sure she was bundled up
before she went out?"

"No Josh, I let her go out in her underwear," Abbey replied as she
played another card. "Yes, of course I made sure she was dressed
warmly.  Which was actually unnecessary because she'd already taken
care of it herself, since she's over the age of 3.  She'd even put a
sweater on Harley." She glanced up at him as he stared out the window.
A hint of a frown had crossed his features.  "Stop worrying, Josh, she
just went for a walk. I have a feeling she's just trying to clear her
head a bit."

"Yeah, I know, I'm just not sure how straight she's been thinking
these last few days. She's been so quiet, it's a little unnerving.
Even when she couldn't speak she still talked to me more than she has
since yesterday," he tried to shake off the feeling of overwhelming
concern he had for her and turned around to look at Abbey. "What are
you doing?"

Abbey looked up, a card in her hand. "I'm knitting a sweater, Josh,
what does it look like I'm doing?"

"What are you playing?" he asked walking over to stand next to her.

She sensed Josh was bored and was about to take it out on her. "Well,
I'm playing cards...by myself. So one could rightly assume that I'm
playing Solitaire."

"Oh," he said, looking down at the cards. "You missed a play.  The red
jack could so on the black queen."

"Did I not mention the part about playing by MYSELF?" she said, still
trying to not let him annoy her.

"Just trying to help," he said. "Where's your shuffle and discard piles?"

"It's not that kind of solitaire, Josh. There are a number of
variations and this one is called Yukon solitaire. You deal out all
the cards and then you play them." She moved a run of cards.

"Hey, that's not a fair move. You're cheating," he said before
realizing that he was taking his life in his hands by calling out the
First Lady, when keeping his mouth shut would have been much wiser.

Abbey counted to 10 before she answered. "Not in Yukon solitaire.
Because you don't have a discard or a shuffle pile you're allowed to
make plays like that."

"Ah-kay," he said skeptically. Sensing that his life would be in
jeopardy if he continued he did a slow circle around the table and
then began to pace slowly in front of the window so he could watch for
Donna. "Cause I've never heard of Yukon solitaire, are you sure you're
not making it up...."

"God, Josh are you kidding me with this?" Abbey said, exasperated.
"Even if I did, which I DIDN'T, what does it matter?!  I'm playing
solitaire and I didn't ask for your opinion or your critique of my
playing. Don't you have anything better to do? Can't you go find a
Secret Service agent to torment or something?"

"Well, that probably wouldn't be a good idea, since they're armed."

"I should be so lucky," she mumbled. "Don't you have a meeting or a
call or some kind of work you should be doing?"

He rocked on his heels, "No. Staff is done. Leo's in the Oval with the
President. Sam and Toby have taken care of everything else for the
moment. I don't really have anything to do."

Again, Abbey tried to hide her smirk.  Josh had just made a HUGE
tactical error.  When you tell someone that you have nothing to do,
especially after you've just done your best to annoy them, you're
almost assured that you will get something to do that you're going to
despise. It's how she taught the girls and Jed to be sure and find
ways to entertain themselves. And here Abbey thought this was going to
be quiet, boring morning. Things were definitely looking up. This was
going to be fun. She had just the job in mind for him. "Okay, well
then," she said, standing up from the table. "I've got something for
you to do. You know when my kids lived here they all had chores. I
think it's about time I assigned you yours."

Josh realized his blunder immediately, "But...."

"No, 'buts' Josh, get your coat on and meet at the back door. And
remember, I have armed guards at my disposal and they won't be happy
if they have to come looking for you."

**********

Donna and Harley made their way up the main road toward the house. The
walk had been uneventful, well, for her anyway. Harley had found all
kinds of interesting things to investigate.  She'd hoped that the
brisk temperature and fresh air would help settle her but she only
felt mildly better. Everything in her still felt stirred and mixed up.
There was so much going on inside her, she was finding it a bit hard
to focus on anything. The only things that kept surfacing were her
Aunt and Uncle and their barn. The problem was that the reason they
kept surfacing was because she couldn't remember much more than the
fact that she had an aunt and uncle and they had a farm and a barn. It
was like she was standing in a room devoid of light and the exit sign
right in front of her face but she couldn't see.

The mild headache she'd had since her session with Barbara didn't help
either. It was throwing her system off and leaving her just slightly
nauseous. Then again, she felt that way when she was coming down with
something so she wasn't sure what to blame it on. It only added to the
feeling that she didn't really know what was going on inside her.

Walking up the stone path, she and Harley neared the house. She was
about to start up the front porch stairs when she heard the distant
sound of voices coming from behind the house. Changing direction, she
walked around to the back side of the house. As she rounded the corner
she stopped in her tracks.

Josh was standing in front of a knee-high tree stump, with Abbey
standing back about 20 feet watching him, her arms crossed, her
expression committed. On the stump stood a smaller wooden log that was
about as big around as a man's thigh. Josh's jacket was lying on the
ground a few feet away, the sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled
up and a slight sheen of sweat coated his forehead. The head of a long
handled axe rested next to Josh's foot and the handle was gripped
loosely in his hand. If ever she saw a recipe for disaster, this was
it.

"Come on, Josh. I know you can do it this time," Abbey was telling him.

"Mrs. Bartlet," Josh said in exasperation. "We've been out here for 20
minutes and I have yet to actually HIT the log."

"Yes, but last time you hit the stump so you're closing in on it. Now,
try it again."

"But I'm getting a blister," Josh whined.

"Well, that will teach you not to annoy me in the future. Tomorrow
I'll find you some gloves but today you'll have to make do without,"
Abbey told him.

"TOMORROW?!"

"Yes, Josh, tomorrow. This is your daily chore now, not a one-time thing."

Donna smiled in spite of herself and she walked over to them. Hearing
Josh and Abbey arguing had lifted her spirits just a bit. When
everything else was confusing and unsure, she could still count on
Josh being....well, Josh. It was the one constant in her universe.
"Josh, what am I going to do with you? I leave you alone for five
minutes and you still manage to get in trouble."

Josh blinked at her, a little surprised to hear her not only speaking
again but bringing the banter. Then he frowned, wondering how he'd got
himself into this situation. "I....she...."

"Hey, don't put this on me. I was playing cards and minding my own
business when you came and started harassing me," Abbey commented.
She was also glad to see the walk had apparently done Donna some good.

"After the two cups of coffee he had this morning I was a little
worried that he might get a bit out of hand.  We'll have to switch him
to decaf," Donna said.

"You should have heard him. Accused me of cheating at solitaire and
then told me that he didn't have anything to do, so I decided I'd keep
him out of trouble and out of my hair by giving him some chores,"
Abbey told her.

Donna looked at Abbey, "But are you sure that giving him a chore that
involves him swinging a sharp metal implement is the best idea? He can
be a little on the clumsy side."

"I'm a surgeon. If he cuts off any appendages I can sew them back on.
But I do think that after we get him started, you, Harley and I would
be safer in the house," Abbey said.

"HELLO! I'm standing right here!" Josh told them.

Abbey looked at him, "Yes, Josh, and that's the problem.  You're just
STANDING there.  You're not DOING anything. Your chore isn't done
until this log and these other two are split into quarters," she told
him.

"But...." He looked at the two of them. Donna had also folded her arms
and was standing next to Abbey and watching him expectantly.
"Okay...fine," he grumbled, knowing he was out numbered. He picked up
the axe and wrapped both his hands around the handle.

"Wait!" Donna said, suddenly. She reached down and snagged Harley's
collar so he wouldn't get curious and move too close.  "Okay, go
ahead."

Josh sighed and tightened his grip on the handle.  Now that Donna was
watching he didn't want to make an idiot out of himself. He took a
step back and rested the blade of the axe on the top of the log to try
and get a bead on where he had to hit. Taking a deep breath he pulled
back on the axe and concentrated on bringing it back down in the right
place. Pausing slightly at the top of the arc, his arms flexed and,
straining to keep control of the axe, he brought it back down. And by
some complete miracle split the log cleanly in two. It was a toss-up
as to who was the most surprised that he'd managed to do it.

Donna and Abbey started clapping. "See?" Abbey said. "I knew you could do it."

"HA!" he said with a big, dimpled, self-satisfied grin. "And you say
I'm not an outdoorsman!" he said to Donna, his chest puffed out with
pride.

"Bet you can't do it again," Donna teased him, knowing he would rise
to the challenge.

"On the contrary, now that I know the rudiments, I will be able to do
it without any trouble." He swiped his palm across his forehead to
clear away some of the sweat. "You see, Donnatella, that's what us
outdoorsmen do, we chop wood, we ford streams and clear the land. We
are what made this country great."

Donna rolled her eyes and looked at Abbey. "He splits one log and
thinks he's a cross between Davey Crockett and Daniel Boone." She
turned back to Josh, "Just hit the thing already."

Josh, now feeling cocky with the headiness of his successful last
swing, set half of the newly split log on the stump and made the same
motion of resting the head of the axe on the log to get a good bead
and then he drew it back.  The only problem was that this time one of
his hands, the one with most of the grip on the handle, was damp with
the sweat he wiped off his forehead. As the axe came to the top of the
swing and he shifted his weight and started to bring it back down,
gravity took over and the axe slid backwards out of his hands. It fell
to the ground about 4 feet behind him with a thud.

"Well, that was predictable," Abbey said, dryly.

Donna coughed hard to cover the laugh that wanted to escape.

Josh looked at the axe in stunned embarrassment.  'Well, he thought.
'So much for the not looking like an idiot in front of Donna.'  Still,
he enjoyed the fact that Donna seemed entertained and was bringing the
banter for the first time since her session with Barbara. Even if it
was at his expense.  He had big enough shoulders and a big enough ego
for that. "Okay, see I know what happened there," he said, retrieving
the axe from the ground. "My hands were wet from wiping my forehead
and the axe slipped.  It's as simple as that." He wiped his hands on
his pants to make sure they were dry and then just to be sure there
was no residual wetness on anything, he wiped the axe handle off with
the corner of his flannel shirt.

"My idea about being safer in the house is sounding better and
better," Abbey said with a smirk.

"Oh, I don't know," Donna said, getting her 'coughing' under control.
"I'd kind of like to stay here and see if he can do it."

"Thank you, Donna.  I appreciate you confidence in me. It's nice to
know that SOMEONE has faith in me," he said pointedly at Abbey.

"Josh, if I didn't think you could do it I wouldn't have given you
this job to do. Now, get a move on, I want to pick some apples from
the orchard to make a pie for dessert tonight. But if you keep me out
here all day supervising, it will never get made."

The thought of fresh apple pie was good motivation for Josh. "Okay,
here goes." He gripped the axe firmly, set it on the half log and
pulled back for a swing. This time the axe came down in the right
place but only split the log about 3/4 of the way down. Raising the
axe, which was now wedged tightly into the log, about a foot, he
brought it back down and split the log the rest of the way.  Another
big grin split his face and brought out his dimples.

"Okay, I've seen enough, you're doing fine. I'm off to pick apples,"
Abbey said. "Donna, you better stay here and keep an eye on him to
make sure he finishes all three logs. If he impales himself or cuts
anything off, direct, firm pressure is the best," she said with a
snicker as she turned to go in the house to find a basket to put the
apples in.

**********

A cold, steady rain fell on the roof as Josh and Donna lay in bed.
Both thought the other was asleep but in reality, neither of them was
doing much sleeping. It wasn't the fact that the room was dark that
was keeping Donna awake. As long as Josh was there, she'd been able to
start sleeping with the lights off again.  No, Donna was still awake,
simply because her brain was too full of thoughts and questions to
shut down and let her sleep. Among other things, she was thinking
about the fact that tomorrow was Thursday and the day they would be
going into the barn. That unknown was enough to keep her awake all by
itself. Josh, on the other hand, who was sleeping above her covers but
under a blanket of his own, as was their habit, was just a touch too
cold to fall asleep. He thought about getting up to get another
blanket, but didn't want to disturb Donna by moving around.  Without
meaning to, he shivered slightly.

"Josh," she said, quietly.  "You awake?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"I thought I felt you shiver."

"I'm a little cold. I was just thinking about getting up to get
another blanket but I didn't want to wake you," he told her.

"You know, Josh, I realize that you started sleeping on top of the
covers so you didn't crowd me or make me feel uncomfortable after the
attack, but at this point it's kind of silly for keep doing it. I
mean, it's cold here and we're both fully dressed and there's no one
here to say there's anything wrong with it and it's fine with me if
you do." She paused. "I trust you," she said softly into the dark.
"And besides, it's my fault you have to be in here, sharing a bed with
me when you could be warm and cozy in your own room. I feel bad that
you have to sleep on top of the blankets. Don't you think you'd be
more comfortable under them?"

Josh was quiet a moment as he considered that.  He was cold and he
would be warmer and more comfortable under the covers. And while he
had enough self-control to know that he could be under the covers with
her and do nothing more than hold her, he knew it was going to be
tough. Because, after all, he was human and she was beautiful and he
was in love with her. It would test any man's resolve. But she needed
a friend now more than a lover and he'd be satisfied, no, not
satisfied, happy, he'd be happy to be there for her in that capacity.
"You sure?" he replied. "I don't want it to be....a thing."

"Yes, Josh. I'm positive.  Now get under here before you really start
shivering," she told him in a voice that made it clear she didn't
mind.

"Ah-kay." Throwing back his blanket, he slid into bed next to her.
"Ooooo, it's much warmer in here," he said, settling the covers back
over them. As naturally as breathing, Donna snuggled in close to him
adding her body heat to the layer of warmth he felt under the thicker
set of covers. He slid his arm over her waist and their legs tangled
together as if they'd been sleeping like this for ages. "I didn't wake
you earlier, did I? With all the shivering?"

"No, I was just lying here, thinking about tomorrow," she answered.

"Yeah, big day. You know Barbara did say it's possible you won't
remember anything," he said, trying to be hopeful.

"That's just it, Josh, I'm not sure which would be worse.  If I
remember, at least I'll know what happened.  I'll know what's behind
everything. Even if the truth is horrible, at least I'll know. If I
can't remember, I'll still be left with the same questions, the same
blanks that have no solution." She paused. "You remember when you made
me watch 'JAWS'?"

"Hey, I didn't MAKE you watch 'JAWS,'" he pointed out. "We agreed that
we'd each pick a movie and then we both had to watch what the other
picked out.  You picked, what is the scariest chick movie ever,
'Thelma and Louise' and I picked 'JAWS.' The scariest, you know,
regular movie ever, except for maybe "The Shining," which you made me
promise I wouldn't pick."

"Okay, Josh, first of all, 'Thelma and Louise' is not a scary movie,"
she argued. "It's a cautionary tale."

"Oh, and what tale is that?"

"Men can only push women around so far before we snap," she explained.

"So watching half naked Brad Pitt having sex with Geena Davis didn't
enter into your rationale for wanting to see it?"

There was a little pause, "Well, that might have had a TINY bit to do
with it, but still."

He chuckled a bit, "Yeah, that's what I thought. You know, maybe
'JAWS' is a cautionary tale too."

"What possible cautionary tale could it be, except maybe not to go
skinny dipping in the ocean at night?" she asked.

"Yeah, because a bathing suit would have protected the girl in the
beginning. Look, 'JAWS' is a classic tale of man vs. nature, a modern
day telling of Hemmingway's 'The Old Man and The Sea.' It's very
existential."

"Did Sam tell you that?" Donna knew that Sam was a movie freak. If he
ever wanted to chuck his law career and the fashion consultant thing
didn't work out, he could easily find work as a movie critic.

Josh paused. "He might have mentioned it."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. So what you're saying is watching the
naked girl in the beginning or the scantily clad women in the beach
scenes, didn't have anything to do with you wanting to watch it?"

"She got eaten, Donna.  It wasn't like she had sex with the shark or
something." He paused. "Plus it was dark and you really don't see that
much of her and the other girls really aren't that scantily clad," he
mumbled.

'Hmmm. Shark sex, now there's a mental image I'd just as soon not have
rolling around in my brain," Donna said.  There was a pause before
they both started laughing softly. When the laughter faded, they were
left with the sound of the rain, continuing to pound on the roof above
their heads. "I really did have a point when we started this
discussion," she said, after a moment.

"That would be a refreshing change in one of our discussions." When
she didn't reply, he knew her point was a lot more serious than the
two of them arguing about movies they'd seen.  "I'm sorry.  What was
your point?"

"It goes back to what I was saying about tomorrow and not
remembering." Her voice was quiet and serious now. "I want to
remember, Josh. Both what happened during the attack and what
apparently happened when I was younger. I know people don't always
believe me when I say that...."

"I believe you," he told her quietly. He reached out and took her hand
in his. "I've believed you all along."

She squeezed his hand, "I know you have, and I thank you for that."
She paused. "Sam told me once that he saw an interview that Steven
Spielberg did about making 'JAWS' and he said that when he did the
first few takes of the shark he thought that the whole movie was
ruined because the shark looked so fake. It looked 100% like some
clunky, rubber, mechanical shark.  He figured NO one would be scared
of it. So he said the trick was to only let people get tiny glimpses
of the shark. Just enough that they knew it was there but not enough
they would see it was a horribly bad imitation. That way it allows the
mind of the person watching the movie fill in the blanks and makes the
terror more real." She paused and for a moment, the falling rain was
the only the sound in the room. "Right now I'm scared because I'm only
seeing glimpses of my past. I'm hoping once I remember and I see that
it's only a big rubber shark, I'll be able to get on with my life. But
either way, I have to know."

Josh thought about mentioning that in most horror movies, the time to
worry was when you actually SAW the monster, but he kept it to
himself. He squeezed her hand again, "Then we'll do everything we can
to help you find those answers."

They laid there together for a few minutes, just holding onto each
other and listening to the rain. "Did I ever tell you how I got Zane?"
she asked him.

"No, I don't think you did. I know he's named after Zane Grey, one of
your grandfather's favorite authors."

"That's true," she paused.  "My grandparents got him for me when I was
about 8 or 9 I think. I was staying over at their house one night and
there was a terrible storm. Thunder and lightning and rain and wind. I
was terrified. I remembered laying there curled up in bed and trying
not to cry but not being able to help it. Just about the time I got up
to go out to the living room where my grandparents were watching TV,
the power went out. My grandmother was lighting some candles as I
walked into the living room. My grandfather took one look at me
standing in the edge of the living room and he scooped me up told me
there was nothing to cry about." She paused for a moment as she
remembered. "He told me that thunder was just God moving the furniture
around in heaven. And the lightning was just God shining his big flash
light around, looking for his children that were lost in the storm. He
also taught me how to count the time between bolts of lightning so I'd
know now close or far away it was. Then he told me that what I really
needed was a friend to keep with me always, someone who wouldn't let
me be scared or lonely. So the next day, my Grandma took me to the toy
store and I found Zane."

She stopped talking, but Josh had a feeling she wasn't done, so he
remained silent. "You're like my human Zane, Josh," she said, quietly.
"You've seen me through so much."

"That's what friends are for Donna," he said, ignoring the little
twinge that went through his chest at the idea that she, indeed, only
saw him as friend and nothing more. "Don't forget about all things
you've seen me through. I think it's safe to say that we've both done
our share of being there for the other and I'd be willing to bet
that's going to continue into the foreseeable future." His comment was
met by a copious silence. "Donna?" he said softly, wondering if she'd
finally gone to sleep.

"I've been remembering things, Josh. Little things. Like cutting
myself when I was young," her voice trembled a bit and she felt him
pull her closer. "It's part of the reason I've been so preoccupied
since Barbara was here on Monday." She paused again. "There are some
bad things in my past and I think there are more waiting for me in
that barn.  Things that make me wonder if I'm not way more screwed up
than I thought. I want to know the truth.  I NEED to know the truth.
But what I don't know is whether or not I'll be able to handle the
truth." Her voice broke at the end.

Josh's heart ached for her, for what she was forcing herself to face.
He pulled her in tight to him and felt her warm, quiet tears on his
neck.  "We'll deal with whatever comes. Whatever you find out, we'll
face it together."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 32 - ADULT



"Donna, won't you at least drink some tea?" Abbey urged as they sat in
the kitchen the next morning. "It will help settle your stomach." Josh
was in the study, talking to Leo and Sam about some things and
generally clearing away any business he had for the day so when
Barbara got there shortly and they headed to the barn, he'd be able to
concentrate on Donna.

"I'm not sure there's enough tea in the world to do that," Donna said
quietly. She looked at Abbey for a moment. "If I haven't said it
lately, Abbey, I just want to say thanks for letting me be here." She
smiled slightly. "And for putting up with Josh.  I don't think I could
do this without him."

Abbey got up and added water to the tea kettle which she then put on
the stove. "Oh, Josh isn't so bad.  He has his moments, but I think
after the cards and his new chores, we've come to an understanding."
Now it was her turn to smile softly. "Actually he reminds me a little
of Jed when he was younger, except with more energy. I swear Josh has
more energy, excess energy, than anyone I've ever met."

"That's one reason why I always try and keep him occupied.  Josh and
bored do not go well together," Donna said, trying to humor Abbey by
taking a small sip of her tea.  Her stomach was in knots this morning
and her headache was worse than ever. She'd thought about trying to
take something for it but a was a little afraid it wouldn't stay down.
She'd take something after they got done in the barn.

Abbey and Donna heard footsteps coming toward the kitchen and they
turned to see Josh walk into the kitchen. He was wearing brown work
boots, well worn jeans, a white thermal undershirt and a blue and
green plaid flannel over shirt. "Hey," he said as he walked over to
Donna.

"Hey," Donna replied quietly.

He laid his hand gently on her shoulder. "How you doing?"

"Wishing today was over," she replied, honestly.  She'd thought about
going out in front to wait for Barbara like she'd done on Monday, but
she just couldn't do it. She recognized that at it's best it was a
form of procrastinating and at it's worst it was plain old denial, but
she couldn't help it. Dressing the part has been about all she could
manage. At the prospect of being outside for a while, she'd dressed
warmly in jeans, tan hiking boots, a gray turtle neck and a heavy grey
fisherman's sweater that Abbey had lent her.  Her hair was loose and
down around her shoulders.

"I'll bet," he said.

Just then the door bell rang startling Donna badly and making her
jump. Her hand jerked, causing a large amount of the tepid tea in her
mug to slosh over the rim and onto her hand and the table. "I'm also
apparently a little jumpy. Sorry," she told Abbey, looking at the mess
she'd made.

"No harm done," she said, setting a roll of paper towels next to
Donna. "Besides, I thought we agreed there would be no sorrys while
you were here," Abbey said, pointedly. The doorbell rang again. "I
better go and let Barbara in before she wears her finger down to a nub
from ringing the bell." With that, Abbey left to kitchen to answer the
door.

Donna looked down at her hand and the pool of tea for a moment, she
knew she should be wiping it up but she only looked numbly at it for a
moment. Gently, Josh pulled the mug out of her hand and set it in the
sink and then tore off some paper towels. Silently he wiped off her
hand and the table. "Why don't you wash your hands?" He suggested
softly.

She looked up at him, "Josh, you have to promise me something."

"What?" He asked, knowing he probably wasn't going to like the answer.

"Promise me that you won't let me back out of doing this."

"Oh, Donna, please don't make me promise that." He knew how hard this
was going to be for her and in some ways he WANTED her to chicken out.
All he wanted to do was keep her safe from anything that caused her
pain. How could he promise to make sure that she did something that
would most likely bring her nothing but pain?

Her eyes pleaded with him. "Josh, please. I need your help. I need to
see this through.  Don't let me back out."

He watched her for a moment.  When she looked at him that way, he
could deny her nothing. It was the same look she'd given him that the
day they'd met and she'd all but pleaded with him to let her stay and
show him she could be valuable.  In his heart he knew that she needed
to do this and he needed to help her all he could. But it didn't mean
he had to like it. "All right, I promise not to let you back out," he
told her quietly. They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Look who I found hitchhiking out in front of the house," Abbey said
as she walked back into the kitchen, with Barbara following right
behind her.

"Hey, guys," Barbara said as she walked in. She kind of had the
impression that she'd walked into the middle of something. "How's it
going?"

Donna seemed to recover first. "Fine," she said trying to smile
convincingly as she got up from the table to wash her hands.

"Hey Barbara," Josh greeted her as he threw the soggy paper towels in
the trash. "How was your trip up?"

"Uneventful. Had a little bit of turbulence coming up but nothing
severe. And I had my favorite Secret Service hunk to pick me up at the
airport so it was worth it," she said with a grin. "It looks like you
got quite a bit of rain last night. Everything's so wet and muddy
outside." The tea kettle began to whistle.

"Yeah, it poured all night," Abbey said as she pulled the kettle off
the stove and snapped off the burner. "Would you like some tea,
Barbara?"

Barbara looked over at Donna, who'd moved to stand next to Josh. "No,
I think I'll wait on the tea. I'm guessing Donna would like to get
started."

In a quiet show of reassurance, Josh's hand moved a few inches and
clasped Donna's in his. It gave her the extra spark of courage she
needed to find her voice. "Yes, I'd like to get this over with."

Josh's move had not been missed by Barbara. "Okay, then let's get to
it.  Abbey, did you talk to the Secret Service agents?"

Abbey leaned against the counter and nodded. "Yes, as soon as they see
you three heading for the barn they'll pull back."

"Good," she said, turning back to Donna and Josh. "Then why don't the
two of you get your jackets on, because it's pretty chilly outside."

The two of them nodded and headed for the mudroom off the kitchen
where their jackets were hanging. They dressed in silence. Josh pulled
her jacket off the peg first and helped her into it. She wrapped a
pink scarf loosely around her neck while he put his own coat on.

Josh reached out and lightly flung an end of the scarf over her
shoulder, "Ready?"

"No," she said, her heart beating fast now and the bile in her stomach
was plotting the best way to revolt. "I think....I think I changed my
mind."

Josh looked at her a moment, not really sure if she was just testing
him and his promise or if she was really deciding to back out. Either
way, his duty was clear.  "Donna, you can do this. I know you can.
Remember what you said about needing to do this no matter what? Well,
now's the time." She still looked skeptical and scared.  "Look Donna,
I'm not Barbara but I know that there's nothing in that barn except
what you take with you."

His words had broken through her panic attack, and she smiled ever so
slightly, "What, are you Yoda now?" she said, referring to the scene
in where Luke asks Yoda what's in the darkened cave and he replies,
'Only that which you take with you.'

"Do or do not, there is no try," he said with a smile, relieved that
she didn't seem so upset now.  "It's your own fault for giving me the
Star Wars Trilogy on DVD for my birthday." Then he sobered. "You CAN
do this," he repeated simply. "I've never seen you back down from
something you really wanted or you really believed in," he told her.
"I don't think you're going to start now."

She looked at him for a moment and nodded to tell him she was okay
now. "Okay," she said, letting out a breath. "Then let's go before
your Yoda wisdom wears off and I change my mind."

"Come on," he said, taking her hand again and walking into the
kitchen. Barbara and Abbey looked up as they walked in.

"Okay, I'm ready," Donna said, praying she was right.

**********

The sky was a patchy blue and the air was fresh and cool but heavy
with the dampness from the heavy rain the night before as they stepped
out onto the front porch. Water was still dripping intermittently from
the corner of the eaves as the rain continued to drain off the house.
The ground was wet and soft and the grass was slippery beneath their
feet as the three of them stepped off the front porch steps and walked
quietly to the barn. Abbey was keeping Harley with her in the house so
he didn't follow them.

Donna's sense of foreboding grew exponentially as they neared the
barn. It made her want to turn and run but she squeezed Josh's hand
for courage instead. He glanced at her and squeezed back, trying to
reassure her as best he could. The large white doors to the barn stood
all the way open revealing the dim interior beyond. At least the upper
hayloft doors were closed so the barn didn't have the "face" look of
the one in her dreams. She had to keep reminding herself that no black
tentacles would be coming out to pull her inside and that she would be
walking in under her own power, of her own free will.

"Donna? What are you feeling right now?" Barbara asked as they neared the barn.

"Scared," she replied. "I'm just remembering what happens in this part
of my dream."

"Okay, stop a minute," Barbara asked. The three of them stopped. "Tell
me what's usually happening right now?" They'd talked about her dreams
before but usually Donna couldn't remember most of the details.
Barbara hoped that it boded well that she seemed to be remembering
things from her dream. Maybe it meant that her mind was finally ready
to remember what had happened in the barn when she'd been a child as
well.

"I'm walking down a road and there are rows and rows of corn stalks as
almost as far as the eye can see," Donna said, then she paused as a
piece of a memory flashed through her.  "My Aunt and Uncle grew corn
on their farm," she said, looking at Barbara, who nodded. "It's a warm
summer day but, I'm cold." She paused, and turned to look behind them.
 "There's a little dog. A little black and white dog, he follows me
around a lot....." she said remembering. She flinched hard as a name
appeared in her head.  "Pepper, his name was pepper. For salt and
pepper because of his color." She frowned, "He belonged to my Aunt
Ruth.  Uncle Tim didn't like him very much," she said slowly. "He said
he was yappy and always underfoot and liked to scare the chickens and
wasn't big enough to protect the livestock."

"Stay here with us, Donna," Barbara said, gently but firmly. "They're
just dreams and memories, they can't hurt you now." She paused until
she felt Donna had a bit more control.  "Now, tell us what else
happens in your dream?"

Donna looked at Barbara and nodded then she glanced at Josh, her eyes
clear and focused. Then she turned back to the barn and they went a
little dazed as she looked at it and began seeing more of the scene in
her dream than the scene that was really in front of her. Her voice
was far away as she spoke. "I come around a corner and see the gray
weathered barn. I'm scared and I remember that I don't like the barn,
the barn is a bad place. A dark place. The main door and the two
hayloft doors are open, making it look like the barn has a face. I
turn to run but the ground starts moving, pulling me toward the barn
and then these black things, tentacle things come out of the doors and
grab me and pull me inside." She focused on Barbara again, "There's
something inside, waiting for me.  A monster."

"Josh and I are right here with you, Donna." She paused. "How about we
go inside and see what we can do about killing the monster?" Barbara
said.

Donna looked from her to Josh. He squeezed her hand again and nodded.
She looked back at Barbara. "Okay."

Letting Donna set the pace, the three of them continued to walk toward
the open barn door. Their steps slowed as they reached the door.
Barbara and Josh let Donna go in a step ahead of them.

Donna stood, just inside the door, allowing her eyes to adjust to the
dim light. The first thing she noticed was the shadows. It wasn't
black inside but there were many shadows that she could swear were
watching her, or something IN the shadows was watching her. A
fluttering sounded over her head and she looked up to see a number of
birds nesting in the rafters above her head and joining them was what
looked to be a sleeping owl.  Slipping her hand from Josh's she walked
forward a few steps and into the center of the barn. There were other
sounds in the barn. The sounds of their feet scraping across the dirt
floor. The hay rustling slightly as a large tan barn cat emerged from
one of the stalls and crossed Donna's path, carrying a hapless and now
dead mouse in its jaws.

Then there was the smell. Barbara had pointed out that after what had
happened in the Oval Office with the President's cigarette, smell
seemed to one of Donna's triggers, which was logical, given the fact
that smell was also the sense that was most closely tied to memory.
The smell of the barn was earthy, an unmistakable combination of the
scent of hay, the underlying scent of manure and the natural musky
scent of the animals kept there.

As the smell of the barn wafted through her nose and her brain
identified it for what it was, a terrible bolt of pain slammed through
her skull making her flinch and suck in a hard breath and the
memories, long buried, began to sputter to life like old neon signs.
As she did a slow, horrified turn to see the entire interior of the
barn, the memories seemed to fill every corner and area of the barn.
Rushing in on her, they all began to play at once, like movies playing
on invisible screens, overlying the present with the past. It was
almost too much to take in. Too much to process at one time. "Oh,
God," she whispered.

Josh took a step forward but Barbara laid her hand on his arm. "Wait,
give her a minute."

It was all there. Every moment, every trick, every humiliation, every
moment of abuse was laid bare as if she were experiencing it all over
again. Uncle Tim at her grandparents' funeral; he was the only one who
had comforted her. He'd talked her parents into sending her to stay
with him and Aunt Ruth for the summer. In the beginning things had
been good, better even than they'd been at home. She missed her
grandparents terribly but Uncle Tim listened to her and said he
understood and didn't tell her to be quiet.

It had been subtle at first, a hug here and there. Maybe his hands had
gone under her clothes a bit but it didn't mean anything. A kiss now
and then. She hadn't thought anything about it, except that Uncle Tim
was nice. After all, she'd reasoned, hugs and kisses were good.
Wasn't that something she'd loved best about her grandparents? That
they'd given her frequent hugs and kisses? Of course theirs hadn't
been on her stomach or on her neck, but he was just playing, right? He
wasn't an ugly, scary stranger who was hurting her. They were friends
and he was the only one who understood how much she missed Grandma and
Grandpa. At first she hadn't noticed that Uncle Tim always waited
until Aunt Ruth was gone on errands or visiting family to give her the
hugs and kisses. But it didn't take her long to figure it out.

Then the secrets had started. At first it had been innocent. "Here's a
piece of candy, don't tell Aunt Ruth or she'll be mad. Don't tell Aunt
Ruth we went out for hamburgers while she was gone or we'll get in
trouble." It was almost a game then. Aunt Ruth, being Mama's sister,
had a similar temper and so Donna wanted to be around her as little as
possible anyway. In any case, being at the farm with Uncle Tim to talk
to, room to run, fields to play in and the animals to pet was better
than going home, so had no complaints.

Then it had escalated.  "Don't tell Aunt Ruth that I hurt Pepper. It
was an accident and I didn't mean to do it. You don't want me to get
in trouble do you? We'll tell Aunt Ruth that he ran away. But don't
worry, Pepper won't suffer. I'll take care of it." The snapping of
Pepper's neck echoed once again through her mind the same way it had
the day that Uncle Tim had "taken care" of Pepper exactly as she'd
remembered in her dream.

Then it had been one short step to, "Don't tell Aunt Ruth that I like
to touch you.  She'll think it's your fault.  I don't want you to get
in trouble." And "If you don't touch me the way I want I'll tell Aunt
Ruth that you're the one hurt Pepper. She'll believe me and not you.
And if you don't do what I want I'll tell your Mama and Daddy that you
liked Grandma and Grandpa better than them." She'd told him that in
the beginning when they'd had their talks about her Grandparents and
how much she'd missed them. She didn't like the way he touched her and
she didn't like the way he wanted her to touch him. It felt wrong and
sometimes he'd get this sticky stuff on her and for reasons she didn't
know, she'd want to shower with gallons of hot water and rub her skin
raw until it looked almost like she was sunburned.

Things had quickly gone from bad to worse. One afternoon, when Aunt
Ruth had of course been gone, he'd called her into the barn and shown
her the book he'd been reading. 'The Joy of Sex.' At the time she'd
had no concept of what was going to be in the book.  Slowly smoking a
cigarette, he'd flipped through some of the pages, showing her the
pictures. She'd felt really strange looking at them, and not in a good
way. She remember asking him why people would want to be in all those
strange positions, doing whatever it was they were doing. He said it
was because it felt good and he said that one way to show someone you
like them is to make them feel good.

Not understanding where he was going with his comments, she wanted
nothing more than to leave. But when she tried to tell him she was
going to go for a walk in the fields or play with the cows, he'd told
her he wanted her to wait for just a bit. The inevitable question
about didn't she like him came next.  What could she say? By then she
really didn't like him anymore but he was still the only one there
that was nice to her and she really didn't want to go home now that
the haven of her grandparents was gone. So she'd said yes she liked
him and of course his reply was to ask her if she would help him feel
good by doing some of the things in the book. Even though she was
twelve that had set off every alarm bell in her body and filled her
with the urge to run and never look back. She'd told him she didn't
want to and begged him to not to make her but he'd said they'd just do
it that once. And of course when that didn't work he'd used the same
veiled threats he'd always used to get her to cooperate. Still not
understanding what she was agreeing to, she'd given in so he'd leave
her alone.

It was the pain she remembered the most. The pain and blood and the
image of him looming over her like an evil giant. He hadn't needed to
cover her mouth to stifle her screams and her cries.  Aunt Ruth was
gone. There was no one to hear her but him. A tiny analytical part of
her now supposed that he'd enjoyed her cries, like he'd heard them as
cries of ecstasy and not the screams of the twelve-year-old child he
was raping.

Aunt Ruth had returned that evening so she'd had a reprieve from any
further 'special secret times.' For the couple of days after, it had
hurt to walk and it hurt to pee and she'd washed the blood out of her
underwear until it stopped so Aunt Ruth wouldn't see her underwear and
know what she'd let Uncle Tim do to her.  She knew it was her fault.
She should have run or hidden or said 'no' louder. There must have
been something she could have done to prevent it.

At that point, it had gotten so bad, that she'd called and begged Mama
to let her come home. Mama had said no and told her to stop being a
homesick baby. She'd wanted to tell Mama what was happening but she
knew she would never believe her. When she'd hung up the phone, part
of her had crawled away into a dark place where no one could hurt her.
A place safe from Uncle Tim and Mama. A place where memories of her
grandparents continually played on the wall like home movies of better
days.

Knowing now that she had another month to stay at the farm, hope ebbed
out of her and when Aunt Ruth left the next time she'd resigned
herself to what was going to happen. Although she tried to stay away
from him, he always seemed to find her and he would take her back to
the barn. She told herself that she only had to survive until she
could go home, so she didn't protest or cry or even scream when he was
hurting her. She did as he asked so he'd leave her alone that much
sooner.

When she'd finally been able to go home and her mother picked her up
at the bus station in Madison she'd asked Donna if she'd had a good
time at Uncle Tim and Aunt Ruth's. Everything in Donna wanted to tell
her the truth, wanted to tell her what had happened.  But between what
Uncle Tim had said about no one believing her and the fact that half
the time her mother thought she was lying anyway, she'd simply replied
that it was fine. Her mother had smiled then and said that was good
because she and her father had decided that Donna should spend every
summer at the farm with Aunt Ruth and Uncle Tim. Somehow, Donna had
managed to make it home before being violently ill at the thought of
going back. She knew then that she'd kill herself before she ever let
them send her back.

Donna, the woman, stood in the middle of the Bartlets' barn locked in
the prison of her own memories. She was vaguely aware she was no
longer twelve but the feelings and memories were so vivid and so
strong that she might as well have been. Everything churned inside
her. She remembered the mute horror of watching Pepper take his last
breath. Felt her Uncle's mouth and hands on her, inside her. Heard his
threats as he coerced her and his grunts as he pounded into her. Felt
the fresh sting of tearing, searing pain in her body as it protested
the way it was being treated. She felt sick and dirty and guilty and
ashamed and small and hopeless and like she wished she were dead. How
much was she going to be asked to endure? First the attack and now
this? Or was it first this and then the attack? The two things seemed
so tangled up in each other that she couldn't seem to separate them
anymore.

Josh watched Donna as emotions akin to raw, stark horror chased across
her face. Her skin drained completely of color and then slowly took on
a grayish-greenish cast as if she was going to be sick. She swayed and
took a stumbling step backward, her eyes lost and glassy. He didn't
care what Barbara said, he had to go to her. Shaking off Barbara's
hand on his arm, he started forward and touched Donna on the shoulder.

Her reaction was violent, she jerked back from him, "NO! Don't touch
me!" she screamed, not really seeing him. To her, at that moment, he
was a specter from the past.  "Don't ever touch me again!" She
stumbled backwards away from him.

"Donna," Josh said, quietly. "It's okay.  You're okay, we're here with
you." It seemed to have no effect and she continued to back away,
looking very much like a cornered animal.  Her eyes darted around
looking for an escape.

Now Barbara came forward. "Donna!" she said, firmly trying to get
through to her.  It was obvious she was having the whopper of all
flashbacks. "Donna!  Listen to the sound of my voice! You're okay.
You're safe. I need you to come back from wherever you are. Whatever
you're seeing, it's not real, it's only a memory.  No one is going to
hurt you."

But Donna didn't hear it, the roar in her ears was too loud, the
pounding of her own heart too fierce. Taking another step back she
stumbled over something and fell backwards, sitting down hard on her
butt. Instinctively Josh and Barbara rushed forward to see if she was
okay and help her up. They were silhouetted in the light coming in
from outside, which from Donna's position on the ground rendered them
more in shadow than substance. It lent to the memory image of her
Uncle looming over her and it only added to her already staggering
terror. She scrambled back a little away from them. "NO!" she said,
with a cry and not a scream this time. "Please," she begged in a voice
like a child's. "Please, I don't want to. Not again. Please, don't
make me." Her voice broke into sobs. "It hurts. Please don't hurt me."

Josh's heart broke for her, for the trauma she was reliving. "Donna,
no one is going to hurt you," he said, with infinite tenderness and
patience. "It's over. You're safe." He held out his hand. "Just take
my hand and whatever it is, we can work on it together."

Something about his voice, the tender tone of it, chipped away as her
horror.  She blinked hard and looked, really LOOKED at the face
looming over her. It wasn't Uncle Tim, her terror frozen brain began
to realize, it WASN'T Uncle Tim. This wasn't even Uncle Tim's barn. It
was...it was the barn on the Bartlet's Farm in New Hampshire. Harley
and Abbey were in the house and....and....Josh.  She blinked hard
again. Josh was the one standing over her with his hand held out and
concern marring his forehead and Barbara....Barbara was standing next
to him.

On one level it was a relief to emerge from the tidal wave of memories
but it still left her feeling dirty and ashamed and unworthy for
anyone to care about her. They were going to want to talk about it and
she didn't want to talk about it, ever. She wished for the memories to
go back to the dark black pit they'd come from but they still hovered
in her brain, waiting to envelop her again. She needed to move, to
think, to find a way to deal with the memories that were even now
landing to dig their talons into her brain and make themselves a
permanent fixture in her consciousness.

Josh saw the recognition come back into her eyes and let out a breath
he'd been holding, "That's right, Donna.  It's me, Josh.  Barbara's
here too and we want to help you."

She had to get away, seemed to be the overriding thought. Getting
quickly to her feet, which surprised both Josh and Barbara, Donna
moved sideways and away from them. A small side door stood off to her
left and in a burst of speed she ran for it. She could hear them
calling her and pounding through the barn after her but she didn't
care. Shoving it open, she flung herself outside and slammed it shut.
A small piece of wood that could be turned to keep the door closed and
the animals in the barn was there and she snapped it over the edge of
the door just as she heard them pounding on it. Backing away, she
turned and ran for the house.

Josh thought about kicking the door down but then remembered the main
barn door was still open. Turning on his heel he ran for it and tore
out into the yard, with Barbara on his heels, just as Donna ran by
headed for the house. Putting on a burst of speed, he ran after her.
"DONNA!  DONNA, WAIT!" She didn't even slow down but he was quicker
and began to close in on her. He considered trying to tackle her but
was afraid she'd get hurt and he assumed the violence of such a thing
would do nothing to help the situation. With an extra sprint, he
managed to grabbed her arm and hold onto it.  Almost instinctively she
turned and struck out at him. He saw it coming and caught her wrist
before she could slap him. "DONNA!  Calm down!  You have to calm
down!" he said, breathing heavily.  He heard Barbara come to a stop
behind him.  Donna still struggled in his grasp.

"Let me go!" she demanded.

"No! Not until you calm down. You're going to hurt yourself," he told her.

Donna looked at him for a minute and stopped struggling, wishing she
could accept or even be worthy of the concern or the comfort that was
in his eyes. But there was no way. It was hopeless. She didn't even
deserve him as a friend, this stain was too ugly for even her to bear,
how could she ask it of him? When she'd stopped struggling, she'd he
felt his grip relax as bit and now it was all the opportunity she
needed. Jerking her arms free she shoved him backwards, hard.  The
slippery wet grass and the slight slope they were on made his feet
come out from under him and he and Barbara, who was standing right
behind him, went down. Without waiting a beat, Donna turned and ran
for the house.

Racing up the porch, she flung open the front door and pounded up the
stairs and down the hall to her room. A plan was already forming in
her mind. She could hear them coming not far behind her. Acting on
instinct, she ran into her bedroom and slammed the door, snapping the
lock into place.  It wouldn't hold them for long so she moved to the
waist high dresser and with a little effort she shoved it over and in
front of the door. She could hear Josh's voice and his pounding on the
door. His voice was soon joined by others and it felt as if the whole
world was trying to get in. This of course did nothing for her panic.
She ran for the bathroom and slammed the door closed, being sure to
lock it as well. The she did what she'd been needing to do since the
flood of memories had started, she was retched violently and painfully
into the toilet.

"DONNA! It's Josh. Donna open this door!" he said, as he pounded on
the locked bedroom door. Worried that she might hurt herself badly,
his heart was racing.  He had to get inside.

"Josh! What the hell is going on?" Abbey said from behind Barbara who
was standing next to him.

"It's Donna, she's locked herself in," Josh said.

"Things did not go well in the barn," Barbara said. 'Understatement of
the year,' she thought.

Abbey saw their faces and needed no further explanation. "I've got the
keys to all the rooms in my bedroom." She turned and hurried down the
hall.

"Donna please open the door.  We only want to help you.  Please.
You're scaring me, Donna," Josh pleaded.

"Donna! Donna, it's Barbara.  We just want to talk.  Please open the door."

"Here, stand aside," Abbey said a moment later, when she returned with
a key ring.  "Jed and I had these made in case one of the girls locked
themselves out of their room." She slid the key in the lock and turned
it.  There was a click of the locks opening and she turned the knob.
Unfortunately, the door only opened about an inch. Just then two
Secret Service agents came up the stairs.

"Is everything all right, ma'am?"

"Yes, just wait there, I'll let you know if you can help," Abbey told them.

"What the hell?" Josh said, trying to push the door open farther. "I
think she shoved the dresser in front of the door."

"Maybe if you all push together," Abbey said. Signaling to the agents
they came forward and together with Josh they put their shoulders into
it and with the added steady pressure the door gradually slid open
enough that Josh could slip inside.  Barbara and Abbey followed.

"Thanks, guys. Now wait here," Abbey told the agents as she closed the door.

The three of them saw the closed bathroom door.  Josh tried the knob
but it was locked. "Donna? Open the door." He tried the knob again.
"The water's running," he commented. "You have a key for it too?" he
asked Abbey.

"Yes," she said, fumbling through the keys a bit in her haste to find
the right one.  Finally she located it and slid it into the lock. When
she had it unlocked she opened the door and stood back to let Josh and
Barbara in first.

"Donna!" Josh called as he entered.

Steam from the hot rushing shower billowed over the top of the
mirrored shower doors to fill the bathroom. From the looks of the
unflushed toilet, Donna had been terribly sick. With only the small
amount of tea in her stomach it was mostly bile but Abbey frowned to
see what looked to be a tiny bit of blood in it as well. It was very
likely that with all the stress and vomiting Donna been experiencing
during the last few months she had developed a bleeding ulcer.

On the floor lay Donna's jacket, the heavy fisherman's sweater, her
pink scarf, and her boots, but none of the other pieces of her clothes
could be seen anywhere.

"DONNA!" Josh called again. But there was no answer. He and Barbara
moved to the rear shower door.

"Josh," Barbara said.  "If she's undressed it might be worse if she
sees a man, even you, seeing her."

Josh didn't like it but he nodded. "I'll wait here," he said referring
to his spot by the front shower door.

"Donna," Barbara called.  "I'm going to open the shower door now.
Don't be scared we're not going to hurt you."

Taking a breath, Barbara pulled back slowly on the shower door and
leaned her head inside. Donna was huddled in the front of the tub,
directly under the spray of what appeared to be extremely hot water
and in what looked like all her clothes, at least the ones they hadn't
already found on the bathroom floor. She was curled tightly into a
ball, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms crossed over them and
her face buried against her knees.  She was rocking slightly and
Barbara could just hear the sound of her sobbing over the roar of the
shower.  "Donna?" Barbara said.  "You okay?" There was no response
beyond the continued sound of her sobbing.

Closing the door quietly, she turned to Josh and Abbey. "She's in the
front of the tub, fully dressed. Let's try opening this door," she
said, referring to the front one. Josh nodded and he stood behind
Barbara as she pulled it open slowly. With them being closer to her
this time, the sound of Donna's sobbing was a bit more pronounced.  It
broke even Barbara's seasoned heart. The child must have suffered
greatly to make the woman break down so completely.  "Donna?" she
tried again.  "Won't you let us help you?"

Josh watched Donna and had to resist jumping into the tub to gather
her in his arms.  Somehow he didn't think that was going to help
things. Her sobs tore at his heart and right then he would have given
his soul to take her pain away.

"Donna?" Barbara reached out to touch her forearm. As her fingers
contacted with Donna's skin, her head snapped up, startling Barbara,
Josh and Abbey slightly.  Donna looked at them as if, in her distress,
she'd had no idea they'd been talking to her all this time.

Tears and water mixed on her face as she looked up at them, leaving no
way to tell where one ended and one began. Her hair hung in soaked
ribbons plastered to her cheeks. She seemed to somehow press herself
more tightly into the wall of the shower.  "I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT
IT!" she sobbed. "I WON'T TALK ABOUT IT! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME TALK ABOUT
IT!" Her sobs took over again, robbing her of her ability to speak for
a moment. Everything inside her hurt and her chest and her head felt
like they would explode from the pain. "Oh, God!" she finally cried.
"I can't do this. I can't have this in my head! It's too much. It
hurts too much. Please, make it stop," she pleaded to the three of
them who stood mutely, not knowing what to say. "I can't do it," she
said closing her eyes. She had to do something. Had to stop thinking
about this or it would simply kill her.

Without the conscious thought even entering her mind she slammed her
head back against the tile shower wall. She did it two more times
before Barbara and Josh were able to grab her shoulders and pull her
far enough forward that she couldn't do it again.

Behind her, on the wall of the shower, a small splash of vibrant red
blood stood out on the pristine white tile. Evidence of just how hard
she'd been hitting her head against the wall.

Donna looked up at Josh, her vision going a bit gray around the edges
from the impact of her head hitting the tile. "I want to die," she
whispered before everything faded from gray to black and she sagged
limply against Barbara and Josh.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 33 - MATURE



"I don't want her to be alone right now," Barbara said quietly as she
stood in the hall outside Donna's room talking to Josh and Abbey.  The
door to Donna's bedroom was open so they could see her lying quietly
in bed. "Since I don't think she'll respond well to having anyone in
the room she doesn't know, I think it would be best if the three of us
took turns sitting with her."

"You're going to stay, right? I mean you can't just leave her in the
condition she's in." Josh said to Barbara.

After Josh and Barbara had pulled her out of the tub, Barbara and
Abbey had checked her over. It appeared that Donna had passed out from
a combination of shock and the mild concussion she'd given herself in
the shower. They'd stopped the bleeding from the small gash on the
back of her head easily enough and decided to address her possible
ulcer once she woke up. Then Barbara and Abbey had gently changed her
out of her wet clothes, dried her off, and put her into some dry
pajamas. Then Josh had carried her into the bedroom and laid her out
on the bed and covered her with the same blankets they'd huddled
together under the night before. He'd tucked Zane in the crook of her
arm and stood watching her for a moment.

She'd woken up about 10 minutes later, but in this case, 'woken up'
was kind of a subjective term.  Her eyes were open but they were blank
and only stared at the light coming through the bedroom window. Except
for the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed and an
occasional blink, she didn't move and although they'd spoken to her,
she hadn't made a sound. Unlike the time she'd been in the hospital,
this time she wasn't playing possum.

She hadn't even acknowledged Harley's presence when he'd trotted in a
few minutes ago to see her. He's stopped by the side of the bed and
looked up at her but she hadn't moved, not even her eyes had wavered.
Sensing his human needed him, Harley had quietly jumped up on the bed
and curled up by her feet to wait.

"No, I'm not leaving. I brought an overnight bag with me just in case
something happened. I had hoped I wouldn't need it," Barbara told him.

"I'll put you in Ellie's old room," Abbey told Barbara.

"How long is she going to be like this?" Josh asked Barbara.

Barbara looked over at Donna and then back at Josh, "I just don't
know," she said softly.

Josh's frustration and worry bubbled over, "But it's your job to
KNOW!" he said vehemently.

"Keep your voice down," Abbey cautioned him. "Donna will hear you."

"Josh," Barbara said, managing to keep her voice quiet when her own
frustration and worry was clearly beginning to show. "There's no time
table for this kind of thing, no cheat sheet or text book chart that
tells me how long it's going to take. Each person is different.  Each
person heals in their own way. It's all about Donna and how and when
she's ready to deal with what's going on inside her."

"I know but...." he ground out.

Barbara laid her hand on his arm. "Josh, you're not the only one who
is concerned about her. I had no idea it would be this bad. If I had I
would have probably done things differently." She glanced back at
Donna. "But even seeing her like this I still believe she'll come out
of it. This is her mind's way of healing. It's similar to when the
body goes into a short term coma after a traumatic injury. The coma
lets it rest, gives it time to heal. I think this is the same thing. A
kind of mental coma that is giving her mind the time it needs to
process the trauma of what she remembered. When she's ready, she'll
come back. But while we wait with her, I think that it's a good idea
if we try to act as normal as possible and act as if she can hear us."

"But we've tried talking to her, she doesn't respond," Josh pointed out.

Abbey answered for Barbara, "Josh, just because she doesn't respond,
doesn't mean she doesn't hear. It's been shown that people in
short-term physical comas are often still aware of what goes on around
them. That talking to them actually stimulates them and helps them
heal faster and wake up sooner."

"Exactly," Barbara replied. "And I think the same thing could apply
here.  If we talk to her it might just bring her out of it that much
sooner."

**********

Donna heard the drone of their whispering in the hall, but it was like
background white noise. Like the drone of the bees that had often
danced across the small rose bush that had once grown outside her
bedroom window in Madison.  She laid there in Zoey's old room and
remembered the day she'd told her mother about what had happened over
the summer. It had been two months after she'd returned from Iowa and
things had been increasingly difficult. She couldn't concentrate at
school and at the most unwelcome moments she'd find her mind flashing
back to the farm. She found she had to sleep with the light on or she
had terrible nightmares about Uncle Tim coming to get her and take her
back to the barn.

The day she'd blurted the truth to her mother was a Saturday in
October, shortly after her 13th birthday. Every day it had gotten
harder and harder not to say anything. The truth had burned inside her
like acid eating away at her soul and still she'd told no one. She had
no one to tell. Her parents wouldn't have believed her. Her friends
would have thought she was lying or a freak. She knew that they would
all say that if anything really had happened it must have been all her
fault.

When she'd started her period for the first time that Saturday in
October she thought it was somehow a lingering side effect of what
happened over the summer. Her mother had never had the talk with her
about getting her period and what that meant so she didn't know any
different.  At the time she also hadn't realized how lucky it was that
she hadn't gotten her period before she'd gone to the farm or she
might have come home with a parting gift from her uncle. When she'd
seen the blood in her underwear again, something in her broke. She'd
been lying on her bed crying and scared to death at not knowing what
was happening to her when her mother had found her.

Her mother had asked her what was wrong and this time she hadn't been
able to remain silent. In a rush of words and tears, she'd told her
mother about the blood she'd found and everything that had happened
over the summer. When she'd exhausted both the words and the tears,
she'd sat on her bed and watched her mother standing silent in her
bedroom doorway.

After a moment, her mother had told her to stop being so dramatic and
making up stories. It wasn't nice to tell lies about people,
especially family, she'd said. Lies of that sort could be very
damaging to Uncle Tim or any man they were told about and Donna should
never say things like that that weren't true. No one would believe her
anyway.

Her mother went on to explain that she'd just started her period and
she should get used to having it once a month for the next 35 years or
so.  She'd left a shocked and speechless Donna and gone into her own
bathroom, returning a few minutes later with some feminine supplies.
And that had been that.

**********

Barbara walked over to the bed to begin her shift. She stood by the
bed and looked down at Donna, "Oh, dear heart, where have you gone?
We're all here waiting for you to come back." She adjusted the
blankets a bit higher across Donna's shoulders. "Josh is pacing a hole
in the floor downstairs and is about ready to snap my head off for
letting this happen." She pulled a small chair next to the bed and sat
down. "Donna, I want you to know that I had no idea it would be this
hard for you. I'm sorry that you're suffering so badly. What did you
remember? Was it your uncle that hurt you? Or was it someone else? I
think it would help if you talked about it. When you keep secrets
inside you, bad secrets, like the ones I'm guessing you felt you had
to keep, they become like a infection. Up until now, the only way you
knew to keep that infection under control was to forget." She paused.
"But the time for forgetting is over, Donna. It's time we cleaned out
the infection and made you healthy again. I'm not saying you won't
have scars but at least you'll be whole again."

She sighed softly as Donna continued to lie quietly, still apparently
unaware of Barbara or what she was saying.  "You know there's nothing
you could tell us that would make us blame you or turn our backs on
you. We want to help you but we can't do that unless you tell come
back to us." She took Donna's limp hand in hers. "You're not alone
Donna. Right now you may feel that you're in a black hole trying to
claw your way out, but we want you to know that we're right here.
We're going to sit right here with you until you come back to us."

**********

Now that her mind was remembering, it couldn't seem to stop. As she
lay there, it occurred to Donna that things often happened in ways you
would never expect. When she'd tripped that day at school and skinned
her knee, she had no idea what it would lead to.  It was two or three
weeks after she'd gotten her period for the first time and told her
mother about what had happened. She'd tripped because she hadn't been
sleeping and was exhausted and had neglected to pick up her feet.
Because she'd skinned her knee and it was bleeding slightly, she'd
been sent to the nurse.

The nurse, Donna couldn't even remember her name, had seemed kind and
sympathetic and she remembered hearing someone once say that if
something bad happened to you and you couldn't tell your parents, you
should tell a teacher or a policeman. Donna reasoned that a nurse
would fall in that same category. So as the nurse had cleaned off her
knee, the story had spilled out. The nurse had listened
sympathetically and then told her to go on home and she would take
care of the matter. On her way home that day, Donna had felt hope
flare in her for the first time since her grandparents had died.

That hope had been extinguished when she'd walked in the door to find
her mother gathering her things together to head over to the school.
Her mother told her that she'd received a call from the nurse at
school. The nurse had told her mother that she wanted to meet with her
right away. She's asked Donna if she knew why the nurse wanted to see
her, but Donna, too stunned to do much else, merely shrugged.  Donna
knew then that it had been useless to tell the nurse. The rest of the
afternoon had unfolded pretty much as her dream had outlined.  Her
mother had returned home in a rage. The nurse hadn't believed Donna,
after all it was a pretty horrific story and couldn't possibly be
true. And unfortunately for Donna this was before health care workers
and school officials were required by law to report any abuse or any
stories of abuse. So instead, the nurse had merely related the story
Donna had told her to her mother.

After the confrontation with her mother had ended, Donna had laid on
the floor of the closet that afternoon and evening. Her first decision
had been to never again tell anyone about what had happened to her
that summer. The only problem was that for some reason that decision
had made her both horribly angry and unbearably sad. It was like a
great wave of emotion that had engulfed her. One that had no source of
release. Her face where her mother had slapped her and her arm where
her mother had grabbed her and dragged her to the closet had both
hurt. As did the scrape on her knee. She found that if she
concentrated on the stinging pain in her knee it distracted her from
the pain in her soul. The effect was even more pronounced when she dug
her fingers into the scrape through her jeans. More pain translated
into more relief. It was then that she'd first considered using
physical pain as a way to cope with the emotional pain she was
feeling. And she'd had a lot of time to think about it. Her mother
hadn't let her out of the closet until bedtime that evening.

**********

Barbara looked up to see Abbey standing in the bedroom door.  "Abbey's
here to sit with you for a while," she told Donna. "I'll be back in
while." She laid Donna's hand back on the bed and stood up.
Stretching a body gone stiff during the 6 hours she'd sat with Donna,
Barbara walked to the door.

"Has their been any change?" Abbey asked her quietly.

Barbara glanced back at Donna, then turned back to Abbey and shook her
head. "No. Her eyes are still open but she's still unresponsive." She
looked at the newspaper Abbey had tucked under her arm. "You going to
read the paper?"

Abbey pulled it out. "I thought I'd read to her.  I figured she
wouldn't mind hearing what's going on in the world."

"Good idea," Barbara commented.

Abbey pursed her lips for a moment, "Barbara, I'd appreciate it if
you'd go down and talk to Josh for a few minutes. I've had him doing
chores and I had Leo and Sam keeping him busy but he just got off the
phone with them and I think he's going to start climbing that walls
here shortly."

Barbara looked at Abbey for a moment. "I'm not sure he's going to be
all that thrilled to see me, I thinks he's pretty angry with me right
now."

Abbey glanced at Donna. "He just needs to blame someone for what's
happened to her."

"Well, then I suppose I would be a candidate to focus his anger on,
seeing as how I'm supposed to prevent something like this," she said
jerking her head toward Donna.

"You can't blame yourself, Barbara.  You're not God. You did what you
thought was best.  The person to blame is who or whatever traumatized
Donna so badly she had to block out what happened to her. And Josh may
snap and snarl at you now, but he'll figure it out eventually. If he
doesn't, I'm sure Donna will slap some sense into him when she wakes
up."

Barbara didn't smile at her comment. "Unless she blames me too," she
said quietly.

"Okay, maybe I won't have you talk to Josh," Abbey told her. "It
sounds like you've been hanging around him too much as it is.  You've
apparently caught his guilt complex." Abbey looked at her squarely.
"Look Barbara, we need you focused and with your head on straight if
you're going to help her. So stop blaming yourself and go downstairs
and get something to eat. I made a pot of chicken and dumplings and
they're simmering on the stove. I thought it would be something soft
and mild for Donna to eat when she wakes up." She let out a breath and
used her best drill sergeant's voice, "Now you're relieved.  I'll let
you know if anything changes."

Barbara looked at her for a moment, and then smiled.  "Okay. I'm
going. Thanks, Abbey." With that she turned and headed downstairs.

Abbey watched her go. Hopefully if she and Josh talked, at least ONE
of them would figure out that they weren't to blame for what happened.
Then she'd only have one guilty person to deal with. Her money would
be on Josh for that one.  He was sort of King of Guilt Mountain.
'Jackass,' she thought with a shake of her head as she turned and
walked into Donna's room.

"Hey, Harley," she said, scratching the dog behind the ears and
causing his tail to thump lightly on the bed in response.  He hadn't
moved from his place at Donna's feet.

"How you doing, Donna?" Abbey asked her as she moved up to look at
Donna. Her eyes were still open and staring at nothing but the light
coming in the window. "Still a bit introspective I see. Well, that's
okay.  I have a feeling you have a lot to think about, so you just
take your time," she said, patting Donna lightly on the shoulder.
"Although I have to tell you, you'd better wake up soon because I'm
about ready to have one of the agents tie Josh to a chair and gag him.
He's driving me crazy. I even sent him out to cut wood twice today.
He's actually getting pretty good at it." She paused, hoping to see
some flicker that Donna had heard her but got nothing. "Oh, hey, I
brought the newspaper. It's even The Washington Post and not USA Today
so it will tell us all about what's going on in DC. How about if I
read some of the headlines to you?"

Abbey pulled up the chair that Barbara had vacated and sat down.
Slipping on her glasses, she began to skim through the front page.
"Let's see here.....China's meeting with Jed about trade
negotiations." She read snippets of the article then looked down.

Her heart dropped into her feet when she saw the article just before
the fold.  Another woman, Kate Morrison, had been murdered the night
before and the authorities were saying it was another one of the DC
Strangler's victims. There had been a lull in the killings and the
authorities had hoped it was because the killer had died or moved on
or been sent to prison or something else along that line. Anything
that would make the murders stop. But it was not to be. It appeared
that the strangler was alive and well and still operating in DC. With
this new victim, the body count was now up to nine. Eight dead
and....Abbey looked at Donna, one suffering more than any human should
have to suffer. Abbey made a mental note to read the full article
later because there was no way she was going to read it to Donna. She
smiled in a way she hoped looked normal.

"I know, let's see what's on the next page. Oh, look, Hecht's is
having a sale. And there's a huge article in here about the new Native
American Museum that just opened on the Mall." She kept reading
through the various sections. She read the news, the horoscopes, Dear
Abby, and the comics. But Donna still didn't move or respond in any
way.

Abbey folded the newspaper and dropped it on the floor by her chair.
"Well, enough for the newspaper. Let's see, what else can we talk
about...hmmm?  Any topic requests?  No?  Let me think.....wait, I
know....how about Josh? He's always fun to talk about." Abbey looked
at Donna for a moment.  "You know, Barbara asked me if I had any
insight into the two of you and in a nutshell, I told her that you
loved each other. I know, I know, you think I'm wrong. Especially
right now with all that's going on, but I tell you I've been around
long enough to know the real thing when I see it. Would you like to
know how I know that you love each other?" She paused for a moment.
"It's pretty easy, really. It all goes back to the campaign.  You know
Josh was only with the campaign a few months before you showed up in
his office but I still had some time to see him in action.  In my
opinion, Josh before you arrived and after you arrived were different
creatures."

She smiled at the memory.  "Before you arrived, Josh had everything we
needed to get Jed elected. He had a brilliant political mind, he was
energetic, determined get Jed elected, arrogant, opinionated and
always absolutely convinced he was the master of all he surveyed." She
chuckled.  "Of course he still had all those things after you came,
but Donna, I tell you this. After you arrived Josh became a better
man. He smiled more and smirked more and laughed more. You're a
perfect foil for him. Even though he was still politically driven, I
saw more of his heart, more of his passion for life. You brought that
out in him."

She paused and took Donna's hand in hers. "He needs you Donna, just as
much as you need him.  And don't tell me you don't need him, because
you do.  Don't forget I was in the bathroom when you went down after
seeing your hip.  I saw how you responded to Josh when nothing else
got through to you. It may be obscured by what's been going on in the
last few months but you still love him." She gripped Donna's hand.
"Donna, honey, you need to come back now.  We...we all need you."

**********

As she laid there, Donna's mind continued to churn up the long buried
memories. The next thing that she remembered were the long forgotten
days and weeks after her mother had locked her in that closet. As
she'd lain in the dark closet, she'd come up with a plan. If she was
going to figure out a way to get out of going to the farm next summer,
she had to have a plan. She already knew that the first part of her
plan had to be to keep her own counsel and share the pain she'd been
carrying with no one. At the very least that would make her mother
happy and she'd most likely leave her be. But to accomplish that,
she'd had to think of a way to find an outlet for the pain. A private
outlet that no one would know about. But that too she already knew the
answer to. Her skinned knee had already shown her that physical pain
would help block out the emotional pain. All she had to do was think
of a way to cause herself physical pain, without anyone knowing about
it, and things could be manageable.

The idea for the cutting had actually grown out of the back-up part of
her plan. If her plan failed and next summer came and it looked like
she was left with no alternative but to go back to the farm, she'd
make her own alternative. She'd considered running away but she had
nowhere to go and no one to run to. And she saw stories on the news
all the time about runaways that became prostitutes. If that happened
to her, it would be no better than going back to the farm. So that had
left one final option. She'd slit her wrists before she'd let them
send her back. For that reason, she'd stolen the small kitchen knife
and hidden it in her room, waiting until she might need it to put that
part of her plan into action.

She'd cut herself for the first time just before Halloween that year.
It had started when she and her mother had been walking through the
department store and they were already putting up the Christmas
section.  Sadness had rolled over her like a suffocating wave. She
realized that this would be her first Christmas without her
grandparents. And something inside her wept all over again at their
absence.  When they got home and Donna had gone to her room, she'd
taken out that knife and looked at it. She wasn't ready to put her
back-up plan into action, but as she stood there and looked at the
knife, she realized that this might be the answer to her need for a
physical pain outlet.

Quietly she'd slipped into the bathroom and contemplated what to do
next. It had to be someplace on her body that no one would see, she'd
reasoned. The top of her thigh seemed like the perfect answer. After
getting out some first aid supplies, she'd removed her jeans and sat
down on the edge of the tub with her feet inside. That way, any blood
she spilled would drain down into the tub. From there it was a simple
matter of slowly drawing the blade across her skin. The sadness she'd
been feeling seemed to drain out of her along with the blood she'd
watched trailing off her leg. Then she's pressed some gauze to it
until it stopped bleeding, dabbed some Bactine on it and taped some
more gauze to it.

And that's how the cutting had started.

Although her mother had caught her in the act once, had taken the
knife away, and, after making her dress the newest cut, locked her in
the closet as punishment, Donna had simply stolen another knife out of
the kitchen, learned to be more careful and more clever in how and
when she'd cut herself.

The cutting, at least that original period of cutting, had ended the
day she'd heard that Uncle Tim and Aunt Ruth had died in a fire out on
the farm. In the barn, she now remembered. The barn had burned to the
ground. She'd overheard her mother crying to her father about it.
About how the police thought Uncle Tim had been drinking and passed
out in the barn with a lit cigarette in his hand and had set some hay
on fire.  Aunt Ruth had tried to save him and they'd both perished. It
had happened one night late in the spring, in fact only a month before
her parents had planned to send her back. A part of Donna now saw that
it had come down to her or them. Only one of them was going to survive
that spring to see the summer.  Fate had chosen it to be her.  It had
been her Independence Day.

**********

Josh stood in the doorway for a moment watching Abbey do the crossword
puzzle with Donna, or trying to. It was late in the evening, almost 11
pm.  The only light in the room was the lamp on the night table that
Abbey had switched on.  Josh figured, since he'd been staying with her
at night, it was only fitting that he took the night watch. The light
coming in Donna's window had long since faded into blackness but still
her eyes stared out the window.

"Let's see, Donna.  53 down.  'Melville's whaler.' Four letters.  I'm
thinking 'Ahab,' You agree?" Abbey looked at Donna for a moment.
"Okay, Ahab it is." She jotted down the answer, then turned when she
sensed Josh's presence.  "Hey, Josh.  Donna and I were just doing the
crossword puzzle before we turn in."

Josh tried to smile but didn't quite make it.  "Yeah, I can see that."

"Well, Donna, if Josh is here then it means it's the end of my time
with you." Abbey got up and stretched. Then she leaned over Donna and
spoke softly. "Remember what I said, we ALL need you." Quietly, she
bent forward and kissed Donna on the forehead. "Sleep well," she said.
Walking to the door she stopped to talk to Josh. "If you're going to
stay in here all night I really need to get you a better chair or
you're going to be a pretzel in the morning."

Josh glanced at her and then back to Donna, "It's okay, Barbara and I
talked and she thinks it might be a good idea if I try and keep things
as normal as possible and sleep with Donna like I have been, on top of
the covers. If she has a bad reaction to it then I'll sit in the chair
and be a pretzel in the morning. If nothing else seeing me as a
pretzel might make Donna laugh."

Abbey smiled gently at his attempt at levity. She looked at him a
moment and saw that he was determined.  "Okay. Well, there's some
blankets in the chest at the foot of the bed. Let me know if you need
anything else."

"Thanks, Mrs. Bartlet," he said quietly and walked into the room.
Harley, who'd gotten up once to go outside and do his business during
Abbey's shift but had refused to eat, instead coming right back to lie
down at Donna's feet, raised his head at Josh's approach.

"Hey Harley," he said, giving the dog a light pat on the rump. "You
keeping an eye on her?"  Harley's tail thumped lightly in response.

"Good boy. Well, I'm here to help you.  Maybe both of us can coax a
smile out of her." He moved up to Donna's head. It tore at his heart
to see her so listless and withdrawn. Her face was pale, almost
translucent, her hair spread haphazardly across her pillow, and her
eyes were wide and blue but empty and staring at nothing. The only
thing he could see about her position that was any different from when
he'd laid her in bed that morning was that her arm was now in a
position that had Zane pulled in tighter to her chest. "How you doing,
Donna? Ready to get some sleep?" He had a feeling that neither of them
would be getting much sleep that night. "If it's okay with you, I'm
going to stay here with you tonight like I've been doing.  But I'm
going to stay on top of the covers.  I know, I know, I'll get some
extra blankets so I don't get cold. I'm just going to switch off the
light and then get into bed."  He reached down and switched off the
lamp.

Turning, he'd only taken two steps when he heard it. Whimpering. Donna
had begun whimpering and moving restlessly in the dark. Leaping back
to the lamp, he snapped the light back on and turned to her. Still
whimpering softly, she was curled into a ball and her eyes were
tightly closed.

Josh did what he could to soothe her. "I'm sorry, Donna," he said
gently.  "I didn't know you wanted the light on. Shhhh," he said
softly trying to calm her.  "It's okay, I turned it back on.  Look,
open your eyes and look." He ran his hand gently over her head. After
a moment, her eyes fluttered open. They still stared at nothing, but
her whimpering faded and her body began to relax. "Yes. That's it.
Just relax. It's okay. Don't worry, I'll leave the light on."

He stood for a moment and tried to get his own rapidly beating heart
to slow down. Then he moved to the chest at the foot of the bed and
pulled out three blankets. Gently, he climbed onto the bed next to
her. He didn't get as close as he usually did, not wanting to upset
her. She didn't stir or make a sound as his weight shifted the bed
slightly. Taking it as a good sign, he tossed the blankets over him
and settled in next to her. Rolling onto his side, he put his head
next to hers and he reached his hand out and stroked her cheek gently.
"Donna," he began softly.  "I know we're supposed to be trying to go
to sleep but I wanted to talk to you a little bit first." He let out a
breath. "Did you really mean what you said about wanting to die?
Please tell me that it was just a figure of speech or that you said it
but you didn't mean it. I'll do anything, even eat vegetables, if
you'll just wake up and tell me you take it back."

Searching the covers he found her hand and clasped it. Tears gathered
in his eyes, "I need you, Donna, I know I don't tell you that often
enough but I need you.  Not for the work you do for me, although God
knows how important that is, but I need your smile and your laugh and
your endless well of trivia. I need the light and the warmth and the
purpose you bring to my life. You were the reason I got well after
Rosslyn, Donna. Mentally and physically.  I've never told anyone that.
Not even Stanley or my other therapists. I got better because you
wanted me to. Because of you, I had a reason to go to physical therapy
and get up in the morning. I got better because I knew you would be
disappointed if I didn't and if there's one thing I can't take, it's
your disappointment."

He sniffed. "And yes, I've taken you for granted and I'm sorry about
that. More sorry than I can ever say with words. I loved you and
rather than own up to it, I hid behind work and our age difference and
other women and anything else I could think of because I expected that
you'd be around forever, waiting for me to figure what I wanted to do.
Then when you were attacked I realized just how close I'd come to
losing you and how badly I'd blown it. I'd missed my chance to tell
you. By then I COULDN'T tell you. It wouldn't have been fair to add
that issue to the pile you've already been dealing with.  But I swear
Donna, here and now, that once you get better, once you're ready to
hear the words, I'm not going to make the same mistake again.  You may
not feel the same way, but once and for all I'm going to stop hiding
and tell you how I feel and just how much I need you. So call it
incentive if you will, but you can't die.  If you die, I'll never have
another chance. Please, Donna, give me one more chance and I swear on
my own life, that you'll never regret it."

**********

Donna knelt at the edge of the flower bed and dug into the rich earth
with a small gardening shovel. Once she'd made a big enough hole, she
picked up the last container from the tray and carefully held the
petunia and its root bundle in her hand as she removed the plastic
sleeve. Then she set it gently down into the hole and filled in the
earth around it. She sat back on her heels to admire her handy work.
It was a lovely spring day. A soft breeze stirred the wisps of her
hair that had escaped from the wide straw hat she was wearing. The
temperature was warm and comfortable, especially where she knelt in
the shade of the old oak that had grown in her grandparents' backyard.
She smiled at the rainbow colors of the petunias she'd just planted.
For some reason, she looked down at her left hand.  It felt strange,
almost like someone was holding it. But when she looked at it, there
was nothing there.

"Why, Katie Bean, that's about the nicest flower patch I've ever
seen," a voice next to her said. Forgetting her hand, she turned and
looked up to see her grandmother standing next to her. 'Katie Bean'
was the nickname her grandmother had always called her.  It came from
Donna's middle name "Katherine."

Donna supposed she should be surprised to see her grandmother but she
wasn't. She got to her feet and hugged her, "Hi, Gram." For as long as
she could remember, she'd called her grandmother 'Gram.' "When did you
get here?" Donna asked as she stepped back. "And where's Grandpa?"

"He's in the house. He and I have always been here. This is our house
after all," she said with a smile.

Donna looked around at the huge backyard of their house. She'd wanted
somewhere safe and so she'd come here.  "Well, I suppose you have a
point there," Donna replied.

"I haven't been out here for a while, though. I can't believe how big
this tree has gotten," she remarked, looking at the tall oak rising up
behind Donna. "But then the oak isn't the only thing that's grown has
it?" She smiled again, "You've grown too, haven't you, Katie Bean?
You're a woman now. And look how beautiful you are."

"And you're just as wonderful as I remember," Donna said.

"Of course I am, dear. This place is made from your memories. We're
alive because you remember us." She held out her hand to Donna.  "Come
take a walk with me, Katie Bean."

Donna took her hand and they walked out into the sunlight. "I'm glad
you're here, Gram. Now I'll have someone to talk to. I thought I'd be
here by myself but it will be so much nicer having someone to spend
time with," Donna replied.

Gram looked at her for a moment as they walked through the yard,
"Donna, honey, what are you doing?"

"I don't know what you mean?"

"Yes, you do. Katie Bean, this place is made of memories. I'm made of
memories.  You can visit here anytime you'd like, but eventually you
have to leave and go back to the real world. You know you can't stay
forever."

"But why? I want to stay here. Things are simple here. Things are safe here."

"Of course they are. But they're also not real," Gram told her.

"Reality is overrated," Donna replied.

"Now, that's not true and you know it. I may be a memory, but I'm not
stupid. And I'm not uninformed," she said with a slightly sterner tone
in her voice. "Your Grandfather and I are in your head so we get
updates on you all the time." She smiled then. "It's a little like
getting our morning delivery of the Donnatella Gazette."

"So you know...."

"About your attack and what you remembered about your mother and what
happened at the farm?" Donna nodded. "Yes, Katie Bean, we know." She
stopped walking and drew Donna into her arms, "And I'm so sorry that
we weren't there to protect you from your parents or Uncle Tim or even
the evil man who hurt you recently." She released Donna from the hug
and started walking again.

"You didn't mean to die. It's not your fault."

"True enough," Gram replied. "But, Katie Bean, it's not your fault either."

"But...."

"No 'buts.' It's not your fault. It was Tim's fault and your mother's
and daddy's fault and the fault of the crazy man who attacked you. Not
yours."

Donna thought about that as they continued on through the backyard.
She frowned slightly and looked down at her left hand.  It was
tingling just like before. It felt as if someone was gripping it
tightly. It wasn't unpleasant but it was disconcerting. There was also
a slight scent in the air, one that she couldn't quite identify but
that seemed familiar. She did her best to ignore it. "Why didn't Mama
and Daddy like me?" she asked.

Gram sighed.  "That wasn't your fault either. They were young when
they had you.  Too young. Your mama was pregnant with you when they
got married. In those days you HAD to get married if you got pregnant.
Your Mama didn't like me much and having to get married so young
didn't seem to sit well with your daddy. He started drinking a little
too much. It changed him, made him hard. I think they both blamed you
for what they saw as ruining their lives. Your grandpa and I tried to
make it up to you in the only way we knew how.  By trying to give you
the love you weren't getting from them." She smiled.  "Which wasn't
hard because we loved you very much.  We would have raised you
ourselves if they'd let us."

"Wait," Donna said as she stopped walking. "I didn't know that Mama
was pregnant when they got married, she never told me that. If you're
a memory in my head then how do you know that?"

Gram smiled, "Because you DO know. Don't you remember that time you
heard us arguing about trying to adopt you?"

Donna thought back a moment. She remembered her grandparents asking to
adopt her and her parents refusing. But now she remembered that her
parents had used the fact that they'd done the right thing and gotten
married when neither of them really wanted to as a reason to deny her
grandparents request to adopt her. They'd been forced to get married
and they were going to be a family no matter what.

"You see?" Gram commented. "Raising you became a duty to them and they
didn't want anyone interfering in how they did it."

Donna nodded and they started walking again. "I still don't want to go
back," Donna said after a moment.  "It's too painful."

Gram took her hand again as they walked. "I know things are tough
right now, Katie Bean, but aren't you forgetting the good things in
your life?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, Donna, now you're just being obstinate.  You've got an important
job.  You're living in Washington, DC, in a wonderful apartment.
You've got a lot of friends and people that care about you. There's
Sam and CJ and Toby and Leo and the First Lady and the President. And
don't forget about Harley."

"But I don't have a degree or anything," Donna argued. "And I don't
even know if I can go back to my job if I don't do it as Sydney and
even if I can what's going to happen to me after the administration's
over?"

"Your friends will help you. All you have to do is ask. You've got
your whole life ahead of you, Katie Bean. You can be anything you want
to be." She paused. "And aren't you forgetting something? A very
important something?"

"What?" Donna asked. Her hand was tingling again and the smell had
gotten stronger. The disconcerting feeling that both had caused
earlier faded and were replaced with a sense of longing and a sense of
home.

"I think you know what.  He's holding your hand right now, isn't he?
And the scent you smell?  That's him. He's nearby and trying to get to
you. He's waiting for you."

"Josh?" she whispered, looking toward the afternoon sky. "Josh is
waiting for me?"

"Yes, Katie Bean. And talking to you.  Listen.  Listen with your heart
and you'll hear him."

The words seemed to come to her on the wind. '...I've taken you for
granted and I'm sorry about that. More sorry than I can ever say with
words. I loved you and rather than own up to it, I hid behind work and
our age difference and other women and anything else I could think of
because I expected that you'd be around forever, waiting for me to
figure what I wanted to do. Then when you were attacked I realized
just how close I'd come to losing you and how badly I'd blown it. I'd
missed my chance to tell you. By then I COULDN'T tell you. It wouldn't
have been fair to add that issue to the pile you've already been
dealing with.  But I swear Donna, here and now, that once you get
better, once you're ready to hear the words, I'm not going to make the
same mistake again.  You may not feel the same way, but once and for
all I'm going to stop hiding and tell you how I feel and just how much
I need you. So call it incentive if you will, but you can't die.  If
you die, I'll never have another chance. Please, Donna, give me one
more chance and I swear on my own life, that you'll never regret it.'

"You see," Gram said.  "He loves you.  But he's just been too afraid
to tell you or show you. You were meant for each other, Katie Bean.
He's your heart. He's not perfect, but then who among us is?" She
smiled. "You have a purpose, honey. It's why you survived and Tim and
Ruth didn't. Don't waste that purpose and the time you were given by
hiding in memories. Take your life back. Hold it in both hands and
take advantage of every wonderful thing it has to offer."

Donna smiled with tears in her eyes. "I will. I promise, Gram."

Gram grinned, "And remember that even when bad times come, and come
they will, you need the bad to appreciate the good."

Donna reached out and hugged her. "I love you, Gram."

"I love you too, Katie Bean," Gram said, patting her on the back. "Now
go see to your young man.  He sounds pretty worried about you."

"I will...." Donna frowned.  "Wait. I...I don't know how? I'm not
exactly sure how I got here, how do I get back to him?"

"Well, I know this is going to sound a little like something out of
'The Wizard of Oz,' but close your eyes, squeeze his hand, and say his
name. That's all there is to it."

"Goodbye, Gram.  Tell Grandpa I'll visit again soon," Donna told her.

"I will, honey," she said with a wave.

Closing her eyes she felt Josh's hand in hers and she clasped it
tightly. "Josh?"

**********

Trying to hold back the tears, Josh had buried his face against her
shoulder. Feeling her hand clutch his for the first time, he snapped
his head up to look at her. "Josh?" he heard her say. As he watched
she turned her head and looked at him. Her eyes were focused and
clear. When she saw his face tears began to swim in her eyes and she
smiled.

To see her look at him like that was simply the most amazing moment of
his life. "Donna?" he said cautiously, as if he was dreaming and he'd
wake up at any minute to find her still lifeless and broken next to
him.

She laid her free hand on his cheek. "Don't worry, Josh. I'm not going
to die," she said simply.

Both crying quietly now, they hugged each other. When they pulled
back, he grinned at her.  "You're awake, I can't believe you're awake.
You know, I'd appreciate it if you didn't go away like that again. I
missed you too much."

"I missed you, too," she said softly.

He searched her face, still not quite convinced she wasn't going to
drop out on him again.  "How are you feeling?"

She locked her eyes with his, "I'm okay, Josh.  I swear. Tired, but
it's a good tired." She smiled. "You, on the other hand, look
terrible.  You look like you have slept in days," she said with a
watery laugh.

"Well, I've been up with a friend who's going through a tough time
right now," he told her.

She looked at him for a moment, her face wet with tears and her eyes
red from crying, "Why don't we talk about that in the morning? For
now, you better get under the covers with me before you catch
pneumonia."

He took his own moment to look at her. "You sure?  I didn't want to
make you uncomfortable."

She sniffed, "Yeah, because I'm going to be more comfortable when you
catch something and have a fever and are whining about how awful you
feel and how it's all my fault I made you sleep on top of the covers.
Now get under here so we can both get some sleep."

He grinned and tossed off the blankets and started to slide in next to
her then stopped.  With her concussion, even as mild as it apparently
was, Mrs. Bartlet had said she wanted to check Donna over when she
woke up. "Wait," he said, climbing out of bed. He backed toward the
door, not wanting to take his eyes off her for a second.  "Wait right
there, don't move." He got to the door. "I'll be right back." He
darted out into the hall and stopped at the top of the stairs.  He saw
all the lights were on down below so he assumed she would still be up,
"MRS. BARTLET!  MRS. BARTLET!"

"What is it, Josh?!" Abbey said appearing at the bottom of the stairs.
"You scared the life out of me."

"It's Donna, she's awake," she told him. "You said you wanted to give
her a once over when she woke up."

Abbey was halfway up the stairs before he finished his sentence. "When
did she wake up?"

"Just a few minutes ago," he said, as they rushed back to her room.
They found her sitting up in bed petting Harley.

"Well, look who decided to join us," Abbey said as she came in the
room. "How are you feeling, Donna?"

"Hi, Abbey," Donna said. "Like I told Josh, I'm tired but okay."

"Well, I'll be the judge of that," Abbey said. She picked up the pen
light she'd left on the night table and shined it in Donna's eyes to
check her pupil responses. "Any dizziness or blurred vision?"

"No."

"How about headaches?"

"No, but I have a sore spot on my head from where I hit it on the
shower wall." She said, gently feeling the area. "It feels like a
bruise or something."

"Well, that's normal. Okay, since you obviously know who Josh and I
are, do you know what day it is?"

"Well," Donna said. "Depending on what time it is, it's either
Thursday night or Friday morning."

"Yeah, you're fine," Abbey announced with a smile.

"Hey, Barbara," Donna said, as she saw Barbara standing in the doorway.

Barbara had come upstairs when she'd heard Josh yelling but she'd hung
back in the doorway, not sure how welcomed her presence would be by
Josh or Donna. "Hi, Donna. How you doing?"

"Well, according to Abbey I'm fine." She frowned slightly. "Barbara?
Do I have to talk about things right now? I mean I will but I just
want to wait and do it tomorrow. Like I told Abbey and Josh, I'm fine
but kind of tired."

Barbara was a little surprised but pleased to see Donna doing so well
after being so traumatized.  "Sure, whenever you're ready."

Donna smiled, "Thanks."

"Well, Barbara," Abbey said, walking to the door.  "Why don't we let
these two get some sleep?"

"Sleep sounds like a good prescription to me," Barbara replied.

"Good night, guys." Abbey said as she backed out of the room and
pulled the door closed.

Donna snuggled back down into the bed and yawned.  "See, I told you I
was fine. Now can we please get some sleep?"

"Well, aren't you the bossy one?" he said with a grin as he walked
over the bed and slid under the covers with her. "Oh, and just for the
record, I do not whine when I'm sick." The slightly stuffy nose he had
from crying ruined his argument pretty effectively.

"I hate to disagree with you, Joshua, but you really do."

The sound of her voice warmed his heart. He pulled her in close and
pressing his face into her neck, crushed her against him in a tight
hug. Then he released her enough that she could breathe again.
"Welcome back, Donnatella," he whispered.

Holding onto him tightly, she breathed in the scent of him. She could
breathe it for a thousand years and never get enough. "It's good to be
back."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 34 - MATURE



Josh carried the tray upstairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. He
managed to reach the top of the stairs without tripping or spilling
anything. No small feat in his opinion. It was late the next morning
and he and Donna had slept like logs during the night. Walking to
Donna's bedroom door, which he'd left cracked open when he'd snuck
downstairs, he pushed it open slowly. She was still in bed, but unlike
when he'd left, she was awake. "Hey, sleepy head. I see you're awake."

"Yeah." With a yawn, she slid up higher in the bed and leaned against
the headboard. "What time is it?"

"A little after 10," he told her.

She saw what he was carrying and smiled, "Whatcha have there?"

He couldn't help but grin, "Thought you might like some breakfast."

She ran a hand over her stomach. It felt a little crampy and empty.
"I guess I am a little hungry. What did you bring me?"

"Tea, toast, and oatmeal," he replied.

She gave him a combination of a little pout and a tiny frown.  "Well,
that sounds exciting."

"Mrs. Bartlet's orders. You haven't eaten anything for a while and she
wanted you to have something mild," he said, setting the tray across
her lap. He didn't mention that fact that Mrs. Bartlet suspected she
also had an ulcer. She would be up shortly to check on Donna and
they'd discuss it then. "Oh, but I did get her to give you one
concession."

"What's that?" Donna asked him as she looked at the offerings on the tray.

He pulled a little napkin off the toast.  "I got her to let you have
cinnamon toast."

"You remembered," Donna said in a half whisper. Cinnamon toast was her favorite.

He poured her a cup of tea out of the small teapot and smirked, "Of
course I did."

Picking up a piece of toast she took a bite.  It was perfect. "What
are you having?" she asked as she chewed.

"Aren't you the one who's always telling me not to talk with my mouth
full?" he teased. "I grabbed something downstairs."

"Like what?" she said, not sure she believed him.

"A cup of coffee and a bagel," he told her, which was true.

There was a knock at the open door and both of them looked up. "Good
morning, children," Abbey said brightly as she walked into the room.
"And how are you doing today, Donna? I see you're eating, that's
always a good sign."

Donna swallowed her bite of toast. "I'm good, thanks Abbey.  Oh, and
thanks for the cinnamon toast.  It's my favorite."

"Josh mentioned something about that," Abbey said as she stopped next
to the bed and smiled down at Donna. "It was always Ellie's favorite
too. Whenever she was sick all I could get her to eat was tea and
cinnamon toast. With Zoey is was pretzels and ginger ale although God
knows why. Liz was the only one who'd eat whatever I put in front of
her." She watched Donna take a drink of tea. "But you have to promise
to eat the oatmeal too; I added a little brown sugar to it so it
wouldn't be so bland."

"Thank you," Donna replied, trying a spoonful. It wasn't bad for
oatmeal. "It's pretty good."

Abbey glanced at Josh and then back to Donna.  "Is it all right if I
give you a once over while you're having breakfast? I just want to
make sure you're not having any lingering troubles with where you hit
your head."

"Sure, but I really do feel fine. My head's still a little sore in
that one spot but otherwise I'm okay."

"Do you want me to go?" Josh asked Donna.

"No. You don't need to," she replied.  "I mean you can, but don't feel
you have to.  I don't mind if you stay," she clarified.

"Kay," he sat down at the foot of the bed and petted Harley.

"At the risk of repeating myself from last night," Abbey pulled out
her pen light and shined it into her eyes. "No dizziness, blurred
vision or headaches?"

"No," Donna replied.

"Nausea?"

"No, but my stomach does feel a little upset, not nauseated, more like
a little crampy," Donna told her.

"Is it very painful?"

"No, it's pretty mild, just at the edge of the radar," Donna replied,
not really understanding where the line of questioning was going.

Abbey looked at her moment, "Donna...do you remember throwing up blood
yesterday?"

Donna thought about it. After what happened in the barn, the rest of
the day was kind of a blur. "Blood? No."

"When we came up here it looked like you'd thrown up some blood.
Without doing a complete upper GI series or an endoscopic exam I can't
be positive but I'm pretty sure you have an ulcer."

"I know I've been stressed and everything but how could I have an ulcer?"

"Well, they used to think that stress or the food you ate could cause
an ulcer. But it was discovered a few years ago that while both of
those things can make an ulcer worse, the majority of ulcers are
initially caused by a bacteria called H. pylori. We'll do a blood test
and see if you have the bacteria in your system. If you do, we'll
start you on some antibiotics to treat the infection and an acid
blocker to lessen the amount of acid in your stomach," Abbey
explained.

Donna's heart began to race, "Do I have to go into the hospital?"
She'd seen enough hospitals to last a lifetime.

"Oh, no.  Not at all," Abbey laid her hand on Donna's shoulder
reassuringly. "Not unless you start vomiting a lot or you're in lot of
pain or we see more blood. But I suspect that you've got a peptic
ulcer and the stress you've been under has just made it worse.  I've
got some supplies in my room. I can take a blood sample and we can
send it off. If the results come back positive then I'll order the
antibiotics and the acid blockers and have them sent over.

Donna looked down at her tray. "Is it okay that I'm eating?"

"Oh, yes. Actually not eating can often be worse on a ulcer because it
leaves a lot of undiluted acid in the stomach.  Food helps keep the
acid from being so concentrated.  How do you feel about bananas?" she
asked, apparently out of the blue.

"Bananas?" Donna asked with a frown, wondering what in the world that
question had to do with anything.  "I like bananas."

"Good, I've ordered some brought in and I'd like to see you eating at
least 2 every day. One in the morning and one in the afternoon or
evening. You can have more than that if you want."

"Why bananas?" Josh asked before Donna had the chance.

"Well, besides being a great source of potassium," Abbey explained.
"Bananas stimulate the production of the mucus that coats the lining
in your stomach.  The mucus creates a barrier between the stomach
lining and the stomach acid. Its just another layer of protection to
give your stomach lining a chance to heal."

"Oh, okay," Donna replied.

"Now, doctor's orders.  Eat all your breakfast and stay in bed today
and take it easy," Abbey told her.

"But I feel okay...." Donna began.

"Did you not hear the doctor's order's part?" Abbey asked sternly.

Donna looked at Josh and then back to Abbey, "Okay, but I have a request."

"Name it," Abbey said.

"When I finish breakfast, I'd like to have you guys, including
Barbara, come in here, if you want to, so I can tell you what I
remembered," she said.

Abbey and Josh exchanged glances. "Donna, are you sure you want to do
it now?  Why don't you wait another day?" Abbey suggested.

"That's just it, I've waited too long to know the truth. I want to get
it out and be done with it. As the President is so fond of saying, I'd
like to be able to say, 'What's next?'"

Abbey smiled. "Okay, I'll tell Barbara.  How about we meet back here
in an hour?" Donna nodded.  "Now eat," Abbey commanded. Then with a
smile she went downstairs.

Josh watched as Donna finished up her oatmeal. "You sure you want all
of us here?  Wouldn't it be easier to just tell Barbara one-on-one?"
he asked quietly.

Donna looked at him over the rim of her tea cup. "In some ways, yes,
it would." She took a sip. "But Abbey's been so kind and has gone out
of her way to be accommodating and you....you've been with me through
the nightmares and the hospitals and the getting sick and well,
just.... everything. I think you both have a right to hear the truth
and I don't want to repeat myself three times." She paused and held
out her hand to him. He climbed off the foot of the bed, walked over
to her and took her hand.  "Josh, if you don't want to know or don't
want to be here when I tell them, it's okay.  I understand. It's a
fairly ugly story, it will almost certainly be harder for you to hear
than it will be for me to tell."

He looked at her for a long moment, marveling at her strength and her
courage. He gave her hand a squeeze. "No, if you're able to tell me
then I want to know. I need to know."

**********

So an hour later, with Donna sitting up in bed, Josh sitting next to
her holding her hand and Abbey and Barbara assembled in her room, she
told them.

She told them about her grandparents and their death.

Then she told them about being sent to the farm.

She told them about Uncle Tim and the barn.

Then she told them about telling her mother what had happened and her
mother's reaction.

She told them about telling the nurse and her mother locking her in the closet.

Then she told them about her 'back-up plan' and stealing the knife.

She told them how the cutting had begun and how it had ended.

And finally she told them about her talk with her grandmother, but she
left out the part about Josh. That was something she herself was still
processing and she wasn't quite ready to share it.

As she spoke, she tried to keep her voice level and she tried to keep
her descriptions brief and concise. But, she'd been unable to hold
back a least a few tears. Josh gripped her hand tightly and she clung
to it like a lifeline.

"And that's when I woke up," she told them as they remained silent.
"That's everything I remembered."

Abbey was the first to move. She came forward and kissed Donna
tenderly on the forehead, "I'm sorry you had to go through so much,
then and now. It took a lot of courage to tell us what happened." She
glanced at Josh. His face was controlled, maybe a little too
controlled.  "And I want you to know, that if your uncle wasn't
already dead, I have a feeling he would have been shortly." Her eyes
were suspiciously bright and she sniffed. "If you need a set of
adoptive parents, rest assured that Jed and I will volunteer for the
job."

"Thank you, Abbey," Donna said softly.

"I know it's a little early right now but when you're ready for lunch,
I'll bring you up a bowl of chicken and dumplings I made yesterday.
Okay?" Donna nodded. "Now you talk to Josh and Barbara and then get
some rest. Doctor's orders." With that, Abbey quietly left the room.

Donna looked up at Josh and could see the controlled anger on his
face. "Barbara, could you wait outside for just a minute?"

"Sure," she said as she too left the room, closing the door behind
her. "I sorry you had to hear that Josh," she said, giving his hand a
squeeze.

"Don't," he ground out.

"But..."

"Don't you dare apologize for this! Do you know how brave you are? Do
you have any idea of how much I admire you right now?" He got up and
paced for a moment, fury pulsing through him.  "I can't believe," he
turned to her. "I mean I believe it because you told me...but I can't
believe the things you went through. And no one was there to help you.
I have a hard time talking about Joanie and Rosslyn.  They were
nothing compared to what you've had to go through. And at least I had
people to help me through things."

"Josh," she said quietly, breaking into his rant. "What happened to me
doesn't lessen or belittle what's happened to you. It's not a
contest." Her voice gained some strength. "Of course you miss Joanie
and it's hard to talk about her. She was your sister. And don't you
dare say that being shot was nothing. I sat in the hospital with you
when could hardly sit up on your own or feed yourself. I was with you
through your therapy and your recovery. I never told you how proud I
was of you for getting better."

She smiled then. "Even if you did drive me crazy at times with your
rants about theoretical physics and how you loathed 'Days of our
Lives' even though there were, as you put it, 'some hot women on it.'
I kept telling you that if you didn't like it, to stop watching it,
but for the three months you were basically apartment-bound you didn't
seem to pay any attention to that. And don't think I didn't know that
for months after you went back to work you were still taping it." He
smiled back at her and she paused for a moment.

"Come here," she said holding out her hand. Hesitantly he came forward
and took her hand.  "And you're wrong. I did have someone.  Maybe not
when I was a child, but after the attack I did.  I had you, Josh. And
CJ and Sam and Toby and Abbey and the President and Leo. Don't you
see, you're all my family now. You most of all.  You've seen me
through it all."

"But..." he began.

"But nothing, Josh.  You're here now and that's what is important. To
me anyway. You're here now. When you could, and most likely should, be
in Washington, you know, helping Leo and the President run the country
and being the third most powerful man in America. You're here, Josh.
Do you know how much that means to me?"

He reached out and brushed his free hand over her cheek, "I'm where I
want to be. Where I need to be."

She held her hand over his and leaned her cheek into his palm. "Thank
you...for everything," she whispered. Then she straightened and looked
at him. "So are we okay?"

He smiled down at her, "Yeah, we're good."

"Okay, then why don't you go find a way to work off some of the
residual anger and frustration I'm sure you're still feeling?  You
know, go yell at some Republicans or something."

He grinned.  "Yes, ma'am," he said, giving her a jaunty salute.

"And tell Barbara she can come in now."

Still smiling, Josh opened the door and let Barbara in then he went
out into the hall, closing the door behind him. "Hi, Donna. How's it
going?"

"Hey, Barbara. Good. I'm feeling a little cleansed by telling everyone
what happened."

"I can imagine." She pulled up a chair. "Do you mind if I sit?"

"Please," Donna replied.

"Being able to tell someone the truth and have it believed can be very
empowering," she told Donna.

"Why am I sensing a huge 'but'....?" Donna asked.

Barbara leaned back in the chair, "Donna I wouldn't be doing my job if
I didn't raise a few questions."

"Okay. That's fair. I'm not afraid of questions," Donna told her.

"Well, the first one that comes to mind is how well you seem to have
overcome these traumatic memories.  I mean one minute you're nearly
catatonic and now you seem almost back to normal."

Donna thought for a moment how to explain things. "I don't think I
have overcome them. And I definitely don't feel back to normal. I'm
still processing a lot of it. But I think I have decided that I want
to live more than I want to dwell in the past. I can't let the past
rule my life. If I do then I let my uncle and even my mother win. It's
really hard to put into words." She paused. "Barbara, I didn't want to
come back. I thought there was too much pain to face if I returned. I
think that was why I picked my grandparents' house. It was someplace I
always felt safe and welcome. I was ready to settle in and stay there
forever. I told my grandmother the exact same thing. And I think
talking things through with her, or I guess in a sense with myself,
was what made me realize that I had a lot to come back for. A lot to
live for." Just then a sharp thud sounded from outside and Donna
smiled softly.

"I agree," she said, curious as to why Donna was smiling. "But can you
tell me what some of those things are?"

"I have a lot of friends, I've made a life for myself in D.C. A life I
love. The attack shook that but it's still true." She smiled again.
"And then there's the best thing of all." There was another thud
outside.

"What's that?"

Donna threw back the covers, slid out of bed and walked to the window.
She stared out the window at something on the ground. "Him," she
whispered.

Barbara frowned and got up to stand next to her at the window.  Her
gaze followed Donna's. The 'him' was Josh. He was in the yard behind
the house chopping wood. He'd taken off his jacket and flannel shirt,
which left him in a navy t-shirt, jeans and a pair of leather work
gloves. Sweat had already begun to dampen his shirt and his hair. He
swung the axe and brought it down expertly.  He'd come a long way
since Abbey had assigned him wood cutting duty.

"There was something that I didn't tell all of you." As she spoke, she
continued to watch Josh. "Something that happened during my talk with
my grandmother.  Even when I was far away and not planning on coming
back, I felt Josh holding my hand and I heard him talking to me." She
paused, the soft morning light shining softly over her face. "He loves
me. I thought I'd never hear him say it but he did. Of course, I'm
sure he thought I couldn't hear him but that makes it all the more
true because he wasn't worried about what anyone was going to think."

"And how do you feel about that?"

Donna glanced at her and then back at Josh. "I think it's amazing and
a little overwhelming. I wondered for a long time how he really felt
about me and now I know." She pressed her finger against the window.
"See that large pile of uncut wood next to him?"  Barbara looked and
then nodded.  "His chore is only to cut up three of those. But he's
down there splitting what looks like about 10 because of me.  Because
he's trying to work out some of the pain and frustration and guilt
that he's feeling about what happened to me. Josh only hurts for
things he cares about. Before I met him, no one but my grandparents
ever cared enough to hurt for me."

She looked at Barbara. "I didn't mention it when I was telling you all
because I'm still trying to work some things out about how 'I' feel.
He isn't the only one who's been too scared to say anything.  I've
loved him for a long time but I always hid it, pushed him toward other
women so he wouldn't see it and tried to be his best friend. Then the
attack happened and it was like my attacker killed my ability to love.
I never thought I'd feel that way about Josh or anyone again.  There
was also the fact that I felt damaged and stained by what happened and
unworthy for anyone to love me. What I remembered yesterday only added
to that feeling." She took a breath and she spoke before Barbara
could. "But I'm beginning to realize that those feelings for Josh
aren't dead. They're bruised and battered but they're there. The rest
of it....I'm working on."

Barbara wanted to understand. "You make it sound so easy."

Donna shook her head. "No, it's not easy at all. I still see those
images from my childhood.  Now that I've dug them up, they live in me,
in vivid color. I'm still processing what that means. But something I
promised my grandmother is helping."

"Oh? What was that?"  Barbara asked.

"She said I should take my life back. To hold it in both hands and
take advantage of every wonderful thing it has to offer. I promised
her I would." She looked back down at Josh. He'd worked up quite a
sweat. She watched the muscles in his arms and his back ripple and
flex as he brought the axe down and she felt something stir inside
her. Something that may be bruised and battered but was healing. "He's
my life. I know he's not perfect and in a way that's one of the things
I love about him most. But if I could pick one thing I wanted more
than anything else in the world..." she looked over at Barbara. "It
would be Josh."

Barbara smiled.  She believed her. "Well, it looks like my work here
is done for this visit. You seem to be on your way to recovery. I'll
come back on Tuesday and see how you're doing.  If you need anything
before then, call me. Oh, and I have a suggestion for you."

"What's that?"

"I know it may be hard but if you're willing, you might ask Abbey if
she can give you some chores in the barn or the stables.  I'm a big
believer in facing your fears. Working in the barn will help you
separate the barn from your trauma. Try spending brief periods in the
barn and slowly lengthening the time."

"Okay.  I'll give it a try."

Barbara smile got a little bit wider.  "You're a remarkable woman,
Donna. Most people who had been though what you have in your childhood
and in the last few months would be destroyed by it. But you seem to
be coming to terms with it. You're one of the strongest people I've
ever met."

Donna shrugged. "I don't feel strong. Determined, but not strong. I
want to get through this for me....and for him." She looked back down
at Josh. "He believes in me and I'm not going to let him down."

**********

"Sam, you have to be firm with Myers or we're gonna get rolled on the
stimulus package," Josh said into the phone. It was Saturday morning
and he was having a conference call with Sam and Leo. Donna was in the
kitchen having breakfast. He and Donna had slept well last night and
he was feeling recharged and ready to chew through some Republicans.

"Yeah, I have an appointment with him this afternoon," Sam told him.

"He's coming there, right? Going to see him on the Hill would give him
the power position."

"Yes, Josh, he's coming here.  You know I have been doing this for
longer than 5 minutes," Sam replied.

"Right," Josh said with a chuckle as he dragged his hand through his
hair. "Sorry."

"Hey, Josh?"

"Yeah, Leo?"

"We've got the Foley vote coming up in the Senate next week. You still
coming back?"

"Um...yeah, sure," he replied.

"'Cause we really need you here to wrap up the vote," Leo told him.

"Yeah, Leo. I know.  I'll be there." He'd been trying to avoid
thinking about going back.

"Let us know your travel plans so we know when to expect you," Leo told him.

"Okay, I will. Well, if you guys have nothing else, I'm going to go."

"Wait, Josh," Sam said. "How's Donna doing?"

Josh was quiet for a moment, "It's been a rough couple of days but
she's better."

"Give her my best," Sam said.

"Me too," Leo added.

"I will. Bye," Josh said before hanging up the phone. He stood there
for a moment, thinking, and then picked up the phone again and dialed.
It was Saturday morning and he hated to bother him when he wasn't in
the office but it couldn't be helped. At least it wasn't too early in
the morning.

"Hey, Josh," Mike Casper's voice greeted him.  He sounded slightly out
of breath.

"Hey, Mike.  You okay?  You sound like I caught you in the middle of
the Boston marathon or something."

"Yeah," Mike said, taking a deep breath.  "You just caught me while I
was out taking a run. Actually I wondered when you would be calling."

"Really? Why is that?"

There was a slight pause, "Aren't you calling about Kate Morrison?"

"No," Josh said, his radar going up.  "Who's Kate Morrison?"

Another pause. "She's another Strangler victim we found a couple of days ago."

"You're kidding?  Another one?"

"There was an article about it in The Washington Post and I'm sure in
all the other papers. I just assumed you read it."

"Things have been kind of hectic here the last couple of days, Mike.
I must have missed reading the paper that day.  What information do
you have on her?"

"Kate Morrison, 29, blonde, worked as a bank teller, divorced, lived
alone in an apartment in Adams Morgan, no pets. She fits the profile
exactly.  He used the fire escape and jimmied open one of her windows.
We figure he was waiting for her when she got home. She was struck in
the head, sexually assaulted, the same burn mark was left on her hip
and then she was strangled."

Josh ground his teeth together, "Mike this can't go on.  You've guys
have got to catch this guy."

"Don't you think I know that, Josh?" Mike snapped out, venting some of
his own frustration. "Don't you think it eats at me to think of all
these dead women?  I'm the one that has to look at their pictures. I
have to see what was done to them. I have to interview their friends
and family." He took a breath.  "Look, Josh, I know this is hard for
you and harder still for Donna. But I swear we're doing everything we
can to find this guy and stop him. Each victim brings us just that
much more evidence, closes the noose around him a little tighter,
helps us establish a pattern, and provides links between the victims
so we can find out who he is. We already have his fingerprints and his
DNA. And with this latest victim we got a shoe print. All we need is
one break, JUST one and we'll nail him. And since he attacked Donna,
Amber Thompson and Robin Marcus, all federal employees, we'll bury him
so deep in Federal prison that no one will ever hear from him again."
Mike paused.  "Now if you weren't calling about the Strangler, what
were you calling about?"

"I need you to investigate someone for me...unofficially," Josh told him.

"Josh, you know I can't just investigate every guy that looks at Donna
sideways," Mike joked.

Josh wasn't laughing, "No, this is actually someone who's dead.
Someone who's been dead for about 19 years."

"Why on earth would you want me to investigate someone who's been dead
for 19 years?"

Josh's voice was flat. "Because it's someone who molested Donna when
she was a child."

Mike's shock was immediate. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, that's one of the reasons we came up here to the farm was so
she could work through some memories that were trying to surface."

Mike was all business then. "Okay, let me pull out my PDA." Josh heard
him rummaging around for it.  "I'm ready. What are the details?"

"It was Donna's Uncle Tim.  Tim Henderson. He was married to Donna's
mother's sister, Ruth. I believe her maiden name was Tandino, Ruth
Tandino Henderson. They owned a farm near Iowa City, Iowa. They were
both killed in a fire at the farm when Donna was 13, which would have
made it around 1984 or 1985. I know it's not much to go on, but I'd
like you to check and see if he had any kind of criminal record or was
ever investigated or convicted of sexual assault or sex with a minor
or being a pedophile or anything like that.  I'd also like as much
info as you can get about the fire and their deaths. Donna said it had
something to do with a barn fire," Josh told him.

"Okay, Josh I'll do my best.  But what good is it going to do now?"

"Well, I'm hoping that if Henderson was ever investigated for
molesting anyone else it might go a long way toward showing Donna that
she wasn't alone and he'd done this kind of thing before or after her.
As for their deaths, I'm just curious," Josh replied.

"All right.  I'll get someone on it this afternoon.  How do you want
me to give you the information?"

"E-mail it to me or call me on my cell.  Thanks, Mike I appreciate your help."

"No problem.  Give Donna my best," Mike replied.

"Will do.  Talk to you later, Mike," Josh said, just before he hung up
the phone.

Still thinking about how he was going to tell Donna about the latest
Strangler victim and remind her of the fact that he was going to have
to be gone for a few days next week, he wandered into kitchen and
found Abbey reading the morning paper. Donna had apparently finished
breakfast because she wasn't there.

"Hi, Josh," Abbey said. "How are things back in Washington?"

"Good. Sam continues to excel at my job."

She smirked slightly and went back to reading the paper, "You've
taught him well, apparently."

"I just wish he wasn't such a fast learner," he replied with a smirk
of his own.  He supposed he should be upset about it.  There was a
time when he WOULD have been upset about it, but right now, he really
did feel like he was where he needed to be. And he honestly knew that
Sam had no designs on his job and was only doing it at all because
Josh had asked him to. "Donna upstairs?"

Abbey didn't look up from the paper. "No, she finished her breakfast
and went for a walk."

Harley took that moment to trot into the kitchen and sit down in front
of Josh. Something began to itch at the base of his skull. "She didn't
take Harley?"

"Of course, she took Harley. She takes him every......" she trailed
off as she looked up from the paper and saw Harley sitting in front of
Josh. "...where she goes."

The itch became the pounding of a bass drum. Something was wrong. "How
long ago did she leave?"

"I'm not sure." Abbey looked up at the clock. "Maybe 45 minutes."

"Did she take her cell phone?"

Abbey thought for a moment.  "No, I think she said something about
needing to recharge it and that she was going to put it in the charger
before she went out."

"Did she say where she was going?"

Abbey could see the concern on his face and she was beginning to share
it. "No, she just said she was going for a walk.  I know, let me see
if any of the agents have seen her." She moved to a small red phone
sitting on a shelf near the regular phone. It was a direct line to the
head Secret Service agent on duty. She pressed the call button.

"Agent Jefferies."

She knew Agent Stan Jefferies, he'd been on her detail almost from the
beginning. "Good morning, Stan, this is Mrs. Bartlet."

"Yes, Mrs. Bartlet, how can I help you?  Is everything all right?"

"I think so.  I was just wondering, could you check with the other
agents and see if they know where Miss Moss has gone?  She went for a
walk about 45 minutes ago and Mr. Lyman and I are  a little concerned
and wondered if you could find out which direction she went?"

"Sure thing, Mrs.  Bartlet.  I'll check and call you right back."

"Thanks, Stan," she hung up the phone. "He's going to check and call
us back," she told Josh.  "You don't really think anything's wrong, do
you?"

"I don't know," Josh told her, trying to keep his heart from beating
out of his chest in panic.  "All I know is she always takes Harley
with her when she goes for a walk.  Something just feels off to me."
He walked to the mud room and pulled his coat off the peg and picked
up Harley's leash which was hanging by the back door.  "If the agents
haven't seen her then I'm sure Harley can pick up her trail," Josh
told her as he walked back into the kitchen and snapped the leash onto
Harley's collar.  He didn't want Harley getting away from him. Just
then, the red phone rang.

Abbey picked up and listened for a moment.  "Thank you, Stan. No, Mr.
Lyman will take care of it." She hung up the phone. "Stan said one of
the agents saw her walking around the lake but that was some time
ago."

"Okay, I'm going to take Harley and find her. I've got my cell and
I'll check in with you every half hour," Josh told her.

"I'll be here," Abbey told him.  "Be careful, and DON'T get lost.  We
don't need to send out a search party for both of you."

"Right," he replied as he led Harley through the house to the front
door, out onto the porch and down the stairs to the front yard.
"Okay, boy, here's where you earn your keep.  I need you to find Donna
for me.  You hear me?  Find Donna."  At his words Harley turned and
trotted off toward the lake, sniffing all the way. He clearly had the
scent of something and Josh just hoped it was Donna and not a
squirrel.

It was slightly overcast and the late morning air was crisp and cold,
signaling that winter was rapidly approaching. There was also a
slight, but cutting breeze blowing and Josh hoped that Donna had
dressed warmly as he now figured she'd been outside for over an hour.
 Harley led him around the lake and into a large strand of trees. They
continued down a narrow path that cut a winding swatch through the
trees and the under brush.

"DONNA!" Josh called. He got no response. He tried to keep a grip on
his panic and worry for Donna, but it was hard.

They reached the edge of the trees which opened up onto a vast open
field. It had probably been used to grow crops at one time, but was
now covered in tall wild grasses waving gently in the breeze and faded
to yellow in the autumn cold. But Josh still didn't see any trace of
Donna.  "Harley?  Do you know where you're going? This is no time for
looking for rabbits or squirrels." The dog only ignored him and kept
sniffing and leading Josh through the center of the field. They were
about two-thirds of the way across the field when Josh heard it.  At
first he thought the sound was just part of the breeze that was
blowing. But as they moved forward, he recognized the sound. It was
crying. Or more accurately, sobbing.

"DONNA!" He let Harley lead him forward faster. Then he saw a flash of
Donna's dark blue coat through the gently waving grasses and he and
Harley rushed over to her.  She was lying face down in the tall grass,
crying.  Harley reached her first and he nuzzled his wet nose into her
neck, startling her. Her head snapped up to see what wild animal was
getting ready to attack her as Josh dropped to his knees beside
Harley.

"Harley? Josh?" she said with a half sob. "What are you doing here?"

"We're looking for you," Josh told her.  "We were worried about you.
You went out without Harley and you didn't take your cell."

"I'm sorry," she said, tears still running down her face.  "I just
wanted to some time to myself. I didn't mean to worry you."

"It's okay," he looked at her a minute.  "Donna? Why are you crying?"
She tried to answer him but it only seemed to spawn more tears. So
instead of pressing her, he silently gathered her into his arms and
rocked her gently while she cried out whatever was troubling her. He
pulled out his cell phone and dialed the house.

"Hello," Abbey said.

"I found her," Josh said.

Abbey could hear Donna sobbing in the background. "Is she all right?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Where are you?" Abbey asked him.

"We're in a field beyond the trees that border the far side of the
lake," he told her. "We'll be heading back in a few minutes," he told
her.

"Okay, let me know if you need anything," Abbey told him.

"I will. Bye," he hung up the phone and slid it back into his pocket.

"Imf ssorfy," she said against his shoulder a few minutes later.

"What? I didn't understand you," he replied.

She pulled back slightly and wiped her face on her sleeve, "I said,
'I'm sorry.' I didn't mean to make you worry," she said with a slight
hiccup.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it right now. Take a couple of deep breaths."

She remembered her breathing exercises.  "Let me lie down for just a
minute." Josh nodded and settled her on her back in the grass like
she'd asked.  He watched as she closed her eyes and started to take
some deep cleaning breaths. After a moment, she opened her eyes and
looked up at him. Her voice was still a bit watery but it was now much
more steady. "I really didn't mean to worry you." Josh helped her sit
up. "I had no idea I'd end up like this when I came out here."

"What happened?" Josh asked her gently.

"I just wanted to go for a walk and although I do normally take
Harley, this time I just wanted to be by myself. Sorry, boy," she
said, giving Harley's nose a good rubbing. Satisfied that everything
was okay, he licked her hand and then trotted a few feet away to
investigate a new smell. "Anyway I was walking and I was thinking
about everything that's happened in the last few months," she sniffed.
"The attack and Sydney, and I got a little irked about all of it but
it wasn't bad, more like brooding. Then as I started walking through
the trees I started thinking about what I remembered and, I don't
know....I just got mad. Kind of like how I feel when I'm tempted to
cut myself only I wasn't mad at ME for a change.  I was just....mad.
By the time I hit the edge of the trees I just started running."

He almost made some flippant remark about her running away from home
but he managed to stop himself.  "Were you running from something?"

"Yes. No....oh, I don't know," she pulled up a clump of brittle grass
and thought for a moment.  "I guess I was running from the anger, at
least a little. Trying to distract myself from it I suppose. I
think...I think I just needed some kind of release. And then my body
just seemed to drop and I then I was crying and couldn't stop. I was
like that for a while and then you and Harley found me."

"You said you were thinking about what you remembered. What made you
so mad?" he asked.

Donna ran her hands over her face and through her hair, then she
looked at him for a moment.  "Who's going to pay, Josh?"

He watched her for a moment, not knowing what to say.

"Who's going to answer for what happened to me? At least with the
attack hopefully at some point they're going to catch the guy and
he'll have to answer for what he did to me and to all the other women.
But who pays for what happened when I was a child? My uncle?  He's
dead. And as happy as I am about that, I'll never have the chance to
tell him how much what he did hurt me. How much it damaged me. How it
made sex just a thing.  Something men wanted from me. Something that I
didn't feel much about. It was just the act and not much else because
that's what he reduced it to." She was crying again, a steady stream
of angry tears rather than the sobs she'd had before. "There's no one
to pay, Josh.  No one to blame. I just have to live with it and try
and somehow come to terms with it. That's why I got angry."

He looked at her for a moment, struggling to find the words she needed
to hear. They weren't easy to find. "You're right. There's no one to
blame and your uncle got the easy way out by dying in the fire." He
paused.  "Just like the men who shot me and the President got the easy
way out when they were killed. It's like two of them and your uncle
put down payments on contracts that you and I will have to pay for the
rest of our lives."

That thought brought Donna up short. It was an interesting parallel.
"Oh, Josh, I didn't mean...I didn't think."

"No, I know," he said gently. "I didn't bring it up to negate your
trauma. I wasn't abused like you so I will never know what that's
like, but I want you to know that I do know what it's like to have to
carry around a legacy of hate and fear. To emotionally pay for
something you had no say in. I know it's going to sound trite but it's
one of the few things that I think has gotten me through what happened
at Rosslyn and that's the fact that each time you let that legacy beat
you down and make you feel powerless and less than you are, you're
letting them win. You're giving them, and anyone like them, power." He
paused and touched her cheek. "Donna, you helped me get well after
Rosslyn, you gave me your strength when I didn't have any of my own
left and now I'm doing the same for you. When you feel like you can't
take it anymore or you just don't have anything more inside you, I'll
be there to give you my strength. Together we can beat them, I know we
can.  I know it because I learned it from you."

Donna looked at him for a moment, her heart nearly splitting in two.
"Oh, Josh," she said with fresh tears in her eyes. This time, tears of
gratitude rather than anger. She lunged forward meaning to give him a
hug but ending up knocking both of them backward into the grass. What
started as giggles and chuckling, erupted into full blown laughter.
For a moment, they laid there in the grass, laughing tearfully and
hugging each other as if their lives depended on the contact. They
laughed harder when Harley came to investigate what all the fuss what
about and took great delight in making both of them squeal by
thoroughly licking their faces.

Josh pulled Donna in close to him and yanked his jacket up over their
heads to shield them from Harley.  It was semi dark in their little
mini cocoon and both of them were breathing hard from laughing and
trying to evade Harley's tongue. Josh could just see the outline of
Donna's face and he could feel her breath on his cheek. Her breath
smelled, not unpleasantly, of bananas. For an instant he longed to
lean forward and find out if her mouth tasted like bananas as well.

Donna could feel Josh's breath on her face.  It smelled faintly of
coffee and what she recognized as... Josh. The same thing that stirred
to life in her yesterday as she'd watched him chop wood returned now
in full force and then some. What she'd said to Josh about sex being
just a thing to her was true.  But then, she'd never made love with
anyone before, either, and she knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt,
that if she was ever with Josh in that sense it would definitely not
be sex and absolutely be making love.  That thought alone gave her
hope that she would one day feel whole again. "Thank you, Josh."

Her words reminded him, like a bucket of cold water, that she wasn't
ready for banana flavored kisses. Yet. So instead, he leaned forward
and kissed her on the forehead.  "No thanks are needed. It's just what
we do for each other."

**********

The next day, early Sunday morning, Donna was sitting at the small
kitchen table eating her usual breakfast of oatmeal, a banana, tea and
toast, while Abbey finished up her breakfast so she'd be ready in time
to head off to mass. Josh was in the study talking to Leo on the
phone.

"Abbey, Barbara suggested that it might be helpful if I start doing
some chores in the barn or the stables. She said it would help
separate the barn from the memories of what happened in my childhood.
Are there any chores you can think of that I could do?" She took a sip
of tea.

Abbey finished chewing her bite of toast, "Absolutely.  After mass,
I'll talk to our farmhand and see what I can come up with."

"Thanks, Abbey," Donna said with a smile as she finished up her oatmeal.

"No problem at all."  Abbey looked at her watch.  "Oh, but right now,
I've got to go and get dressed or I'm going to be late." She gathered
up her dishes and put them in the sink.

"I'll take care of all the dishes as soon as I finish my oatmeal,"
Donna told her.

"You're a dear. Thanks," Abbey said as she hustled out of the kitchen.
 "We'll talk about your chores when I come back from mass," she called
as she started up the stairs.

Donna finished up her oatmeal, fed Harley and then did the dishes and
cleaned the kitchen. Once everything was in order she went to see if
Josh was almost done with his call. As she neared the study she heard
his raised voice through the partially open door.  She knew she
shouldn't listen but she couldn't help it.

"Leo, it's just not a good time right now!"

"Then when is it going to be a good time, Josh? Let us know so we can
tell Congress how long they need to hold off the vote until you feel
like coming back to D.C!" Leo said sarcastically through the
speakerphone.

"But Sam can take care of it!"  He let out a breath and ran his hands
through his hair.  "I just don't want to leave right now."

"Look Josh, I've been understanding.  I know things have been tough
for Donna and tough for you.  I can appreciate the fact that you want
to be there for her. But before you went up there you promised me AND
the President that you would come back for the vote. It's the only
thing we asked from you and now you're telling me that you don't want
to leave right now.  Josh, this is not the school bake sale to raise
money to send the cheerleaders to camp.  This is the most important
piece of environmental legislation that's been brought before the
Senate in 20 years and it actually has a chance of passing. But not if
you're not here to strong arm them."

"I know....I know you guys need me, but she needs me more!"  Josh replied.

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, "Well, then, I
suggest you take the rest of today and decided if your love life takes
precedence over your career. Because if you're not on a plane tomorrow
then you can consider yourself no long part of this administration."
The line went dead before Josh could reply.

Donna stood in the hall, pressed against the wall.  Her heart beating
heavy in her chest. She'd forgotten that Josh had to go back for the a
couple of days for the Senate vote. There was no way she was going to
let him sacrifice his career for her. Taking a breath, she stood up
and opened the door. Josh was sitting at the desk brooding. Hearing
someone enter her turned and smiled when he saw it was her. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," she replied.  "I was just passing by and I couldn't
help but overhear your conversation."

Josh looked at her for a moment.  He didn't want her worry about him
on top of everything else.  "Oh, don't worry.  Leo was just blowing
off steam."

"He's right, Josh," she said quietly.

He hadn't expected her to say that. "What?"

"You promised to go back for the vote and they need you to get the
bill passed. You should go."

"Donna..."

"No, Josh. This is bill is your baby. You got it started when everyone
else thought it was hopeless and wanted to stick it in a drawer. It
means that kids born in the next decade will grow up with cleaner air
and water. That's an important legacy to leave behind." She paused,
for some reason the phrase, 'OUR kids will grow up with cleaner air
and water' kept popping into her head. "It will only be for a few
days, Josh."

"What if you have a nightmare?"

She was quiet a moment, "If I have a nightmare, then I have a
nightmare. It's better when you're here, but Barbara said that there
would come a time when I needed to try and start sleeping on my own
and this will be a perfect trial run."  She walked over to him and
took his hand.  "What I'm saying doesn't mean I don't need you or that
I'm not going to miss you, because I do need you and I'm going to miss
you terribly. Which is why I expect you to call me as often as
possible," she finished with a small smile.

"I just don't want to let you down," he told her.

"You could never let me down," she replied softly, giving his hand a
squeeze. "Now get out of here so I can set up your travel arrangements
for tomorrow.  I'll call and give them to Margaret so Leo will stop
sticking his voodoo doll of you with pins."

Josh smirked at that. "Where on earth would Leo get a voodoo doll of me?"

"Oh, you mean you didn't know?  One weekend he had Margaret make them
up for all Senior Staff and each member of Congress. She's a voodoo
high priestess, you know."

"Well, you women are just full of surprises aren't you?"

"You have no idea," she smirked back.

**********

"Now, I packed everything you're going to need and it's already been
loaded in the car. I put a list of things in your backpack that I'd
like you to pick up from my apartment and some things I thought you'd
need from yours.  There's also a list that Abbey would like you to
give to her chief of staff of things she'd like sent up as well,"
Donna told him as she and Harley walked him out to the waiting car the
next morning. She'd managed to get Josh dressed in a suit.  All he was
missing was his tie. Abbey stood up on the porch watching them.  "Your
flight leaves in 90 minutes which will put you into DC about noon.
Sam's going to meet you at baggage claim and take you right over to
the White House for your meeting with Leo. I rolled up your tie and
put in your jacket pocket, so put it on before you land." Josh smirked
at her. "What? Did I say something that was smirk worthy?"

"No, it just you. You've got everything taken care of as usual," he
said, tossing his backpack onto the back seat.

"Josh, you know how you are when you travel."

"Yeah, I know. I'm hopeless," he leaned forward and kissed her on the
cheek.  "One of the 8 million reason I like having you around."

She leaned forward, kissed him on the cheek and pulled him into a hug.
 "I like doing it.  It's one of the 8 million reasons I like being
around."  She felt his arms tighten around her.

"I'll see you Friday," he whispered to her. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too. Have a safe trip. Call me when you land," she
whispered back.

He tightened his hug for a moment, "I will."

They released each other and Josh leaned down to Harley. "Bye mutt,
you take care of her while I'm gone." Harley wagged his tail in reply.
 "Good boy," he said with a smile, giving the dog a final scratch
behind the ears.  Josh climbed into the car and Donna closed the door
for him. She stood there and waved as the car pulled away. When the
car had finally disappeared from sight, she and Harley walked up to
the porch where Abbey was waiting.

"He'll be back in a couple days, Donna," Abbey told her.

"I know. I'm just going to miss him," she replied.

"Well, then we need to find you something to take your mind off of it.
 And I think I have just the thing." Abbey held out her hand.  "Come
with me.  I talked to our farmhand and he has a number of things you
could help with around here."

Donna took a breath. She was a little apprehensive at being in the
barn again but she was determined.  "Well, no time like the present.
Let's get started."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 35 - MATURE



Josh swiveled his chair around and stared out the window at the gray
afternoon sky. It was Tuesday and a cold front had descended upon the
entire Northeastern seaboard. The National Weather Service was
predicting that over the next few days D.C. would have a mixture of
rain and snow. New Hampshire would have its own light coating of snow
over the next few days, but it was supposed to clear up by Friday so
he didn't expect it to cause any delays with his return trip to
Manchester.

The week was pretty well laid out for him. Hand holding and arm
twisting were on tap for today; the vote itself was tomorrow, Thursday
he planned to go around wrapping up things, including pulling together
all the items that Donna and Abbey had requested he bring back with
him. His plane was scheduled to leave out of National first thing
Friday morning. He'd be back at the farm by mid-morning.

He'd just gotten off the phone with Justin McNeely, a Democratic
senator from Oregon and one of the last remaining Democratic holdouts
for the bill. His objection to the bill was related to some of the
higher standards for water purity. He felt that finding the money to
put the restrictions into practice would put an unfair tax burden on
his constituents. With a little carefully worded persuasion and
reassurance that the President would not raise taxes to pay for the
bill, McNeely had relented.

But while Josh was glad the vote was all but sewn up, his heart was
elsewhere. He'd already talked to Donna earlier that morning but being
away from her left him with a hollow ache in his chest.  He hated that
he was missing the things she was doing.  She'd told him about working
in the barn and how at first it had nearly sent her into a panic but
she was slowly getting used to it and she loved working around the
animals, especially the horses. Barbara was coming to visit her today
for a session. The fact that they were probably having that session
right now was the only reason he wasn't currently calling her just to
hear her voice.

It seemed like it was going to be an eternity before he'd be able to
call her for their regular evening talk.  He'd tell her about
everything that was happening in D.C. and with the vote and she'd tell
him he was working too many hours and needed to go home once in a
while. He knew that by 'home' she meant his apartment and while he had
gone by there to get a few things, last night he'd gone to her
apartment and slept in her bed. Her apartment had become more of a
'home' to him in the last few weeks than his own townhouse. Even
though she wasn't there right now, he felt slightly closer to her by
being around her things and smelling the scent of her on the sheets.

Just then, there was a knock on his door. "Josh?"

He recognized Ryan's voice so he didn't turn away from the window. "Yeah, Ryan?"

"There's an Agent Casper here to see you." Ryan had been helping out
Sam and the temp that personnel had sent over after Sydney's
departure.

The mention of Mike's name made Josh turn around. It would have been
easier for Mike to just e-mail or call him with the information. If he
was here in person, he probably had something important to tell Josh.
"Show him in."

Ryan disappeared and Mike appeared in his doorway a moment later. "Hey Josh."

He stood up and came around the desk to met Mike halfway. "Hey, Mike,"
he said, shaking his hand. Then he moved to close the door.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Josh. But I thought what I had to tell you
would be better done in person."

"No problem at all, Mike. Have a seat," Josh told him.  "I take it
that you found something out about Donna's Uncle and Aunt?" Josh said
as they both sat down in the visitor's chairs.

"Yeah." Mike looked at him for a moment. "I found records that before
the time you said Donna visited the farm, Tim Henderson was
investigated twice for alleged molestation. Once when he was 22 for an
incident that involved a 13 year old girl during a church ski trip
when he was along as a chaperone. Then the second time when he was 25
right before his marriage to Donna's aunt. That incident involved a 12
year old girl who was a family friend. Both investigations were
dropped because of lack of evidence and what I believe was pressure
from the Henderson family, which apparently was fairly prominent."

Mike paused a moment, "When he died, he was also under investigation
for statutory rape. He allegedly raped the 13-year-old daughter of a
neighbor."

Josh sensed Mike had more to say. "Anything else?"

"I also found the police report for the night that Tim and Ruth
Henderson died," Mike told him.  "Apparently Donna didn't know quite
the whole story. You see, there was a witness to what happened that
night."

Josh was intrigued to say the least. "Really? Who?"

"Jenny Miller. She was the neighbor's daughter he was being
investigated for raping."

"You're kidding! What the hell was she doing there?" Josh demanded.

"According to the statement she gave the authorities, Tim Henderson
had coerced her into coming over and to talk to him about the pending
investigation. He said if she didn't come to see him, he would see to
it that she and her parents wouldn't live long enough to see the
authorities finish the investigation. When she went over there he
apparently beat her pretty badly and he was in the process of raping
her when Mrs. Henderson came home unexpectedly and caught him. Miss
Miller was fairly certain he meant to kill her that night so that she
couldn't testify against him."

Mike paused and took a breath. "It seems that Mrs. Henderson had never
believed the other allegations. So, according to the statement from
Jenny Miller, when she saw proof for herself, she apparently flew into
a rage and began screaming at Mr. Henderson."

Mike looked at the notes he'd made on a small pad. "Miss Miller ran
out of the barn but she could still see them through the open barn
door, Mrs. Henderson attacked Mr. Henderson, knocking him out when he
struck his head against a workbench.  Then she took a bottle of
kerosene from a shelf, poured it over Mr. Henderson's unconscious body
and set him on fire. What she didn't realize was that she'd splashed
some on herself and her clothing caught fire almost instantly.
Between that and the hay, the barn went up in a flash. There was no
way they could have gotten out. Miss Miller called the authorities
from the phone in the house. The firemen found the Hendersons bodies
in the burned out debris of the barn."

The silence was palpable in the room when Mike finished. The two men
sat there for a moment. "What happened to Jenny Miller?" Josh finally
asked, his voice very quiet.

Mike stared at him for a long moment.  "Henderson's family saw to it
that the story was hushed up.  They paid the Miller's enough money to
move out of state. They bought a new farm in California's Central
Valley. Far as I can tell, her family still lives there."

He paused and Josh just knew that he wasn't going to like what was coming next.

"Although from all reports Jenny Miller had once been a bright and
outgoing teenager, the rape and what happened at the Henderson farm
that night had a lasting effect on her. Even after the Millers moved
to California, she had lingering emotional problems. Eventually, she
got involved with drugs and about two years after her family moved to
California, she committed suicide."

Mike handed Josh a thick envelope. "Here's a copy of my report,
including copies of all the police reports and Jenny Miller's
statement of the events from that night.  Just be aware, there's also
a copy of the medical report on Miss Miller's physical condition. Some
pretty unpleasant stuff. Bastard did quite a number on her. There are
no photos, just a written report.  Apparently Tim Henderson beat her
pretty severely. Along with the more superficial injuries, she had a
broken arm, couple of broken ribs, fractured cheekbone and a broken
nose."

Another palpable silence descended, "Well, he was real son of a bitch,
wasn't he?" Josh commented.

"He was a predator, Josh.  Plain and simple."

"Yeah, I know," Josh said, almost more to himself than to Mike. He
gave himself a mental shake. "Thanks, Mike.  You did a first
rate-job."

"Well, that's what you guys pay us for." Mike said with a smile, then
he sobered.  "Josh, when you see Donna.  Tell her I'm sorry and if
there's anything....absolutely anything..." he smiled and held up his
hand before Josh could speak. "Other than finding her attacker which
I'm already working on....if there's anything else I can do for either
of you, let me know."

Josh held out his hand, "Thanks, Mike. I know you're doing all you can
to find the guy. And I'll tell Donna what you said when I see her on
Friday."

The two of them shook hands and Josh walked Mike out. Then he came in
and sat back down at his desk. Leaning back in his chair, he thought
of the ruined lives that Tim Henderson had left in his wake. And he
thought about Donna being alone and defenseless against that monster.
He wished that he was with her at the moment. He wanted nothing more
than to gather her into his arms and keep her safe. Maybe he'd call
Abbey and see if Donna was done with her session so he could talk to
her. He knew hearing her voice would settle him.

**********

"So Donna, how do you like working in the barn?" Barbara asked her as
they sat out in the sunroom.  There wasn't much sun that day though.
The cold front that was currently descending on New England was
keeping most of it hidden behind clouds.

Manchester's first snowfall of the season was predicted for later that
night and now that her irrational fear of the cold had begun to fade,
Donna was actually looking forward to it. From what Abbey had told
her, winter in New Hampshire was cold but beautiful. One thing she was
very happy about was the fact that the snow and bad weather was
apparently supposed to taper off in time for Josh's trip back from DC.

Even though he'd only been gone since yesterday and she knew he was
where he needed to be, where she'd sent him in fact, she missed him
terribly. She was, however, proud of herself for sleeping through the
night without having a nightmare. That didn't change the fact that she
missed sleeping in the same bed with him. Missed his arms around her.
Missed the solid feel of his shoulder under her cheek.  Missed their
banter. Missed their long talks.  Missed watching him chop wood.

She pulled herself back from the reverie to answer Barbara. "It was a
little scary at first, I mean I didn't remember anything new or
anything like that, it was just the feeling of foreboding it kept
stirring up. But now I'm really starting to enjoy it.  I like working
with the horses." She smiled. "Although I admit helping milk the cows
was quite the adventure. I'm sure when Josh gets back he will get a
laugh out of watching me try and do it again.  I think I almost
spilled more milk than I saved. But I suppose that he's allowed to
poke a little fun at me after Abbey and I made fun of him when he was
learning to chop wood."

"Josh learned to chop wood while you've  been here on the farm? Hmm.
Josh swinging a large axe," Barbara said with a grin. "Were you guys
watching from a safe distance, say from inside the house?"

Donna grinned, "Well, I'd be lying if I said we didn't consider doing
that. But actually as you saw the other day, he's gotten pretty good
at it."

"Speaking of Josh, how is he?" Barbara asked her.

"Oh, I talked to him this morning.  He's good. The vote is scheduled
for tomorrow and he feels pretty confident that the bill is going to
pass," Donna replied.

"What do you think about him being in D.C. and not here?"

Donna paused before she answered, trying to organize her thoughts. "I
miss him. A lot." She looked at Barbara. "I'm sure I don't have to
tell you that we've become very close and I've come to rely on him a
lot."

"No, that's pretty obviously from seeing you two together," Barbara remarked.

Donna looked down at her hands where they rested in her lap. Then she
looked up at Barbara, "I haven't told Josh this, but in an odd way I
think this week apart will be good for us."

Barbara definitely hadn't been expecting that response.  "Really? How so?"

"Well," Donna began. "You remember when you told me that there would
come a time when we'd want to try and get me to be able to sleep
alone?" Barbara nodded. "I think I've come to that time. I mean I'd be
lying if I said that sharing a bed with Josh wasn't....wonderful and
something I wouldn't mind doing for the next hundred years or so." She
paused. "But I want.....I want to be whole for him, Barbara. I know
that I can lean on him but I want to be able to stand beside him too.
I want things to be a two way street between us. He deserves that."
She paused. "I deserve that."

Barbara nodded, "You're right. And the fact that you recognize that is
a very big step toward achieving that goal. " She paused. "How did you
do last night without him being here?"

"It took a little time to get to sleep because I missed him being
there. But once I did," Donna smiled proudly. "I slept through the
night without a having a nightmare."

Barbara smiled in return. "Good."

"So I'm hoping that means that the nightmares are over," Donna replied.

Barbara looked at her for a minute, "Donna, I'm not trying to put a
damper on your theory but while I agree that's a positive sign and I'm
sure that what you've resolved about your childhood memories is going
to help you not have them all the time, I don't think you've seen the
end of them. You may never stop having them completely. There may be
long periods between them but I'm willing to bet that there will be
times, especially if you're upset or you have something on your mind,
that they'll return."

Donna frowned. "Really?"

Barbara patted Donna's hand. "It's no reason to be discouraged, Donna.
You've made amazing progress in the last few weeks. And you have to
remember that even people without the things you have in your past
have nightmares.  Nightmares and dreams are just the subconscious
trying to work through issues that the conscious mind has neglected or
ignored."

"Well, you do have a point," Donna replied, thinking that over.

"You know Donna, I've been thinking and there's a program back in D.C.
that I think you might benefit from," Barbara suggested.

"What's that?"

"Well, it's going to sound a little weird when I suggest it but it's
art therapy."

"Art therapy?" Donna asked with a frown. "I've never been particularly
artistic."

"You don't have to be.  This program works with victims of violent
crimes, as well as children and adults with emotional or developmental
challenges and helps them use art to express themselves."

"But I thought you agreed that I was doing so much better," Donna replied.

"Oh, I do.  I think you're doing wonderfully.  I just thought that a
creative outlet for you might be productive too. Unlike art for art's
sake, which focuses on the finished piece, art therapy, which
typically employs paint, clay, charcoal, pastels, or other art
materials, focuses on the process of creation itself. The activity is
undertaken primarily for its healing benefits rather than for the
creative end result."

"How dose it work?" Donna said, becoming interested in spite of herself.

"Art therapy helps healing in various ways. The aesthetic quality of
the work produced can lift a person's mood, boost self-awareness, and
improve self-esteem. Research also shows that physiological functions,
such as heart rate, blood pressure, and respiration, slow when people
are deeply involved in an activity they enjoy."

Barbara took a sip of her tea. "The creation of art helps people get
in touch with thoughts and feelings that are often hidden from the
conscious mind. Stress reduction is also a significant benefit.
Because art therapy helps people access their unconscious mind and
release pent-up emotions, it has been found to be very useful in
treating those suffering from stress and stress-related ailments."

Barbara set her up down. "You don't have to do it.  In no way am I
saying that your recovery is going to be incomplete if you don't take
part in this program or any others like it.  What I am saying is it's
something to think about."

Donna thought about it for a moment. It might be kind of fun to try
something new. "Okay. I'll think about it."

Barbara looked at her for a moment.  Donna seemed to be more
contemplative than usual. "Is there anything else you've been thinking
about?

Donna smiled softly, "Am I that obvious?"

Barbara smiled.  "Just a little.  You seem to be a bit preoccupied."

Donna nodded. "I've just been doing some thinking about the future."

Barbara took a sip of tea. "Oh? In what respect?"

"I'd rather not say just yet. I'm not trying to be evasive, I'm just
still thinking some things over and when I do start discussing it, I'd
kind of like to tell Josh about it first," Donna said.  She just hoped
Josh was still speaking to her after she did.

**********

Josh rolled over in Donna's bed and groaned as he reached out for his
ringing cell phone. His head was throbbing and his mouth tasted
similar to what he imagined the bottom of his shoe tasted like. He
managed to pick the phone up off the night stand without knocking it
off. Seeing the callers name on the screen he smiled in spite of his
hangover. "Hey."

"Hey," Donna said with a smile in her voice. "So how much damage did
you do to your sensitive system last night?"

"Three beers worth," he said, his voice husky with sleep and his hangover.

"Well, I could harass you about it but I guess you're entitled to
drink from the keg of glory after winning the vote yesterday. I know I
told you this last night, but congratulations again.  I knew you could
do it."

The sound of her voice warmed him and made him not care so much about
his headache. "But it's no fun if you're not here to bring me the
finest bagels and muffins in all the land," he said softly.  "I miss
you.  I'm looking forward to heading back up there tomorrow."

Donna smiled as she stood in the Bartlets' kitchen. "I miss you, too."
She looked out the window. "How's the weather there?"

"Cold," he said, snuggling down into the covers and wishing she was
there with him. "We got sleet last night and we're supposed to get
snow this afternoon. But it should be cleared out by the time my
flight leaves in the morning. How's it there?"

"Cold, too.  We got snow last night and they're saying we're going to
get more light flurries today," she replied.

"How are you doing with the cold?" he asked her, knowing how much the
cold had bothered her since the attack.

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. "Actually, it's okay. I'm kind of
enjoying it. Things here are really pretty with a light coating of
snow." She paused. "Josh, just out of curiosity.  Are you sleeping in
your office?  Cause if you are I'm going to have to get out a big
stick and beat you with it when you get back here."

"Well, Donna, as much as I love it when you bring out the equipment, I
am, in fact, not sleeping in my office," he replied.

"Then where are you sleeping?  I called your apartment first and there
was no answer."

"I'm sleeping in the apartment of a beautiful woman."  There was an
enormous pause on the other end of the phone and he frowned. "Donna?"

Donna stood alone in the Bartlets' kitchen holding the phone in death
grip. She was just starting to get to place where she could even
acknowledge she still had feelings for Josh. Could he have gotten
tired of waiting her for to figure things out? Or for that matter,
could she have misread his friendship as something more? When he'd
said he loved her did he mean like a brother, a friend? Her battered
heart and soul threatened to fold in on themselves at those thoughts.

"Donna?" Josh tried again. "Donna, are you there?" He looked at his
phone to make sure the signal hadn't faded or dropped out, but it
looked fine,  "Donna?"

Unexpected tears gathered in her eyes. She swallowed and took a breath
to try and cover them. "So I guess you got lucky last night," she said
without malice. She couldn't blame him for moving on.

Josh laid in bed, HER bed, a little stunned at her words. "Did I get
lucky....?" he asked in disbelief. After everything they'd been
through, how could she think that he would.....he thought she knew
where he stood. Hurt flashed through him.

Her tears were threatening to fall at that point. "Yeah, I mean you
were out drinking and celebrating and I'm sure oozing that famous
Lyman charm. What girl could resist that?" She knew, all things
considered, she couldn't. "Did you meet her at the bar you guys went
to?" Again it was all said without malice or accusation.

He heard the tears in voice, which were in direct contradiction to her
words, and was completely confused. "Donna what....?" Shoving his
mounting hurt aside he flashed back over their conversation and tried
to see it from her point of view. When he did that, things began to
make sense. He also reminded himself that not only were her emotions
all over the map these days, but she was still rebuilding her
confidence and sorting out her feelings for him. When he also tossed
in the way they'd misdirected each other in the past, it was crystal
clear why their conversation had taken this turn. The hurt drained out
of him and he smiled.

The time for misdirection and misunderstanding between them was over.

"Yeah, I got lucky seven years ago when I found her standing my office
in Manchester," he replied quietly.

"What?" Donna said, thinking quickly. 'Who did he meet seven years ago
in Manchester?' she wondered, not making the connection.  That would
have been during the President's first campaign, she would have been
there....she....Her heart began to beat faster.  Could he be talking
about her? "Josh?"

"Yes, Donna?" He could tell he was getting through to her.

She swallowed a large lump in her throat.  "Are you sleeping in my apartment?"

"Yes, Donna."

The tears did fall then. Everything he'd said had been so sweet and
she'd jumped to the first handy conclusion. "Oh, Josh, I'm sorry."

"Donna, it's okay. Don't cry," he said, wishing he was there to hug
her.  "I wasn't trying to tease you, I thought you knew where I stood.
I never thought you'd think that....well, what you thought." He paused
for a moment as he decided whether or not to take a chance and tip his
hand or not. Finally, he decided it was time to go with the truth.
"I'm not looking for anyone else, Donna."

His words only made her cry harder. "Oh, Josh....I'm so sorry. I
wasn't thinking." She swallowed. "I'm not looking for anyone else
either."

Her words warmed him immeasurably. "Donna, please don't cry. Not about
this.  It was just a misunderstanding. But from now on, I want you to
promise that if you ever have questions about me...about us...you'll
just ask so we can talk about it.  No more misdirection or covering up
what you're really thinking. Okay?"

Even though she knew he couldn't see her, Donna nodded. "Okay."

"Say you promise."

She smiled and swiped at her tears, "I promise."

Josh smiled. "Good. Now blow your nose." He waited a moment until she
did. "Did you have breakfast yet?"

"No, I called you first," she replied, sounding much more steady.

"Well, eat a banana and something else healthy and then go get your
chores done. I don't want Mrs. Bartlet to ground you or anything for
slacking off," he teased. "I'll call you tonight."

"Okay." His words seemed like a perfect opening for the other thing
she wanted to tell him. "Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been doing some thinking while you've been gone. When you get
back here tomorrow can we talk about a couple things?"

"Sure," Josh said. "Do I get a hint about the subject matter?"

"The future." She paused. "I'm not trying to be evasive.  I just want
to talk to you about it in person."

Josh didn't know if he should be scared or not. "Can you at least tell
me if it's a good thing or a bad thing?"

She paused and wondered the answer to that question herself.  It
really depended on your point of view. "It's good, at least I think it
is."

"Kay," he said, only mildly reassured. He thought back to what Mike
Casper had learned about Tim Henderson and Jenny Miller. Although he
talked to her after talking to Mike, he hadn't brought up that
particular subject.  "Actually, I've got a couple things to talk to
you about in person too."

"Okay," she smiled to herself.  "It sounds like we've got a lot of
talking to do." She paused and sniffed away the last of the tears.
"Now," she told him as she shifted gears. "You'd better get up.  I
assume you have senior staff in an hour. There should be bottled water
in the fridge and Advil in the kitchen cabinet or in the bathroom
medicine cabinet for your hangover. Promise me you'll have more for
breakfast than just a cup of coffee."

"I promise," he said. He liked that she looked after him.

"Okay. I'll talk to you tonight."

***********

It was almost dark as Donna stopped in the mud room. She toweled the
dusting of melting snow off Harley and pulled the insulated covers,
called 'muttlucks,' off his paws. 'Muttlucks' were basically dog
booties that protected a dogs paws from cold, wetness and frostbite.
Pulling a treat out of her pocket she handed it to him and sent him on
into the kitchen.

She pulled the wool cap off her hair and slid out of her heavy parka
and gloves. After shaking the melting snow off in the wide utility
sink, she hung them on the hooks set into the wall. Then she untied
her muddy boots and pulled them off. She'd managed to get the worst of
the mud and the muck off before she'd come inside but she'd have to
wait until they dried to brush off the rest.  Leaving them under the
sink to dry and wearing her thick wool socks, she headed into the
kitchen.

The smell hit her first.  The wonderful scent of chili that she knew
Abbey had been simmering all day and the smell of cornbread baking in
the oven. Unlike the President's chili, the First Lady's, while still
wonderfully delicious, wasn't so spicy it could double as paint
stripper. Which, given her ulcer, Donna was grateful for. Snagging a
banana from the bowl of fruit on the counter, she went to see what
Abbey was doing.

She found Abbey in the living room watching the weather channel as she
sat in front of a roaring fire. Hearing Donna's footsteps she turned.
"How is it out there?"

"There's not much wind, but the snow's coming down in buckets," she
replied.  But we got all the horses and the cows put away. Donna
replied, sitting down next to her on the couch and peeling the top
half of her banana. "What are they saying about the storm?"

Abbey turned back to the TV. "The news isn't good, I'm afraid. It
looks like the storm has stalled and won't be moving through as
quickly as they originally thought.  D.C. is getting even more snow
than we are."

Donna looked at Abbey and then the TV screen. "It's going to move
through overnight though isn't it? I mean it's not going to hold up
Josh's flight or anything, right?"

Abbey looked at her for a moment. "I'm sorry, Donna.  It doesn't look
good. Right before you came in they were saying that the weather might
not clear now before Sunday. The Manchester airport will likely be
open in the morning but I doubt that Josh will be able to get out of
D.C. They're expecting Dulles and National to be closed for the next
couple of days and even Baltimore is questionable."

Disappointment flooded through Donna.  Of course, she didn't want Josh
to travel if it was going to be dangerous, but she'd really missed him
and as much as she enjoyed Abbey's company, she had really been
looking forward to seeing him tomorrow. "Oh."

Abbey knew that the young woman beside her was terribly disappointed.
She'd seen first hand how much Donna had missed Josh. And from what
Jed had mentioned in passing last night, she wasn't the only one.
Josh had been moping around the White House too. The wheels in her
head began to turn. There had to be a way. "Well, you never know,
Donna.  There's always a chance the forecasters could be wrong."

"Right, I know," Donna replied, trying to sound convincing.

"Well, I'm going to go and check on dinner," Abbey told her.

"Okay," Donna said with a nod as she continued to stare at the TV.

On her way to the kitchen, Abbey made a quick detour to Jed's study.
What good was it to be the wife of the most powerful man in the world
if she couldn't do her part to see that someone got from point A to
point B?

**********

Josh poured over the report, making notes on a large legal pad. The
only light in his office was his desk lamp. He had two more reports
just like it to review before his 7 pm meeting with Leo and Sam to
talk about upcoming judicial appointments.

After his meeting, he could take all his notes and head back to
Donna's apartment to catch a few hours of sleep. Then he'd arranged a
car to come and get him and all the stuff he'd collected for Donna and
Mrs. Bartlet and take him to the airport for his early morning flight
back to Manchester.

Tossing his pen down for a minute, he rubbed his eyes. Lord, he was
tired. His hangover headache had never quite faded and the late hours
he'd spent celebrating last night were catching up with him. He used
to be able to do days like this standing on his head. 'When did I get
so old?' he wondered.

"Josh?"

Hearing Sam's voice from the door, he looked up and tried to blink
away the tiredness.  "Hey, Sam. What's up?"

While Josh had been back in D.C., Sam had stayed around to keep
current on things, deciding to set up camp in his old office in
Communications. He'd also been helping Toby out with an upcoming
Thanksgiving speech the President was scheduled to give.

Sam stood hesitantly in the doorway. This thing with Josh and Donna,
at least in its current incarnation, was fairly new and he wasn't sure
if he was about to put his foot in his mouth or not. "Hey, Josh. I
just wanted to say that I'm sorry your trip got screwed up."

Josh looked at him and blinked again. "What are you talking about, Sam?"

"Your trip to Manchester. I'm sorry that the weather screwed it up."

"What weather? I still have no idea what you're talking about."

"Um, the snow?" Sam tried. "The white stuff piled up outside your
window? Haven't you been watching TV?"

Josh looked out the window and was surprised to see a thick blanket of
snow and what looked like more falling through the dark night sky. He
glanced back at the dark TV screen.  "No, I was trying to concentrate
on these reports so I could get them done before our meeting." He
unearthed the remote from his desk, flipped the TV on and switched it
to a local station. They were just giving a weather report and winter
storm warning for the metropolitan D.C. area. Then they announced the
fact that both airports had just been closed. "Oh, crap," Josh
replied.

**********

"Mr. President?" Debbie said as she stepped into the Oval Office.

Jed looked up from the briefing memo he was reading. "Yes, Debbie?"

"Mrs. Bartlet is on line 3 for you."

"Thank you, Debbie." He waited until she pulled the door closed to
give him some privacy. He picked up the receiver and pressed line 3.
"Hey, Sweet Knees.  You miss me?" Even though he'd just talked to her
last night, he was happy to hear her voice again. In many ways, the
rocky patch they'd survived after Zoey's kidnapping had only to served
to strengthen their marriage. Although he knew she was needed in
Manchester right now, he'd missed her these last few weeks.

In spite of Abbey's reason for calling, she smiled. She'd missed him
the last few weeks she'd been in Manchester.  "Of course, Jethro. So
how are things going in D.C.?"

He glanced out the window. "Well, for a change we're getting more snow
here than you are in Manchester."

"Well, we're getting a pretty hefty amount of it ourselves." She
paused for a second, "Jed, speaking of the snow. I need a favor."

"Sure, Sweet Knees. What is it?"

"I need you to find a way to get Josh up here tomorrow."

"What do you propose, Abbey? It's not my fault there was an early
freak snow storm."

"Jed, you work with some of the greatest minds in the country. I don't
care if you have the National Guard pick him up with a snow mobile but
you guys need to put your heads together and find a way to get him to
an open airport."

"Just out of curiosity, why do you care so much about getting Josh up there?"

"Well, I didn't want to have to tell you this but he and I are having
a raging affair that everyone but you knows about. Why do you think,
Jed?" she said in frustration. "Because Donna's so disappointed her
chin is dragging on the floor."

Abbey had been keeping him apprised of everything that Donna had been
going through, how much progress she'd made and how important Josh
seemed to be to her recovery. For that reason alone he wanted to make
this happen but he couldn't pass up a chance to have a little fun with
his wife. He leaned back in his chair and smirked, "What's in it for
me?"

"If you don't get this done my mother will be making an appearance at
Thanksgiving this year," she replied. She knew that would get his
attention.

"You know Abbey, there are laws against threatening me," he commented.

"It's not a threat.  I like to think of it as......incentive."

"Abbey, I can think of many, many acceptable forms of incentive you
could give me and not one of them involves your mother," he replied.

She grinned as the wheels in her head turned a little faster and she
came up with a different tactic. "Okay. How about a trade then?"

"A trade?  Well, you know, I am the leader of the free world and trade
is kind of my middle name..."

"You don't have a middle name," Abbey shot back with a smirk.

"Abbey, if you want something you're going to have to work with me here."

"Right, Jethro, sorry."

"And not calling me Jethro would help, too."

"Do you want to hear my idea or not?" She replied. "It involves me and
barbecuing."

Jed leaned forward in his chair, "Abbey, you have my full and complete
attention." He listened with interest as she outlined her proposal.
"Done," he replied. "Josh will be there tomorrow or I'm not the
President of the United States, or, you know, the King of Barbecuing,"
he said with a grin. "And you, Sweet Knees, I will see in a couple of
days."  He hung up the phone and walked over to the door that
connected the Oval Office with Leo's.

Leo heard the President's footsteps and stood up as he entered his
office. "Good evening, Mr. President."

"Good evening, Leo," he replied.  "I hate to bother you but I need
your help with something."

**********

"I'm really sorry, Josh," Sam commented as he sat in one of the
visitor's chairs.  "I know you really wanted to get back to New
Hampshire."

"Yeah," Josh stared at the phone. He didn't see how he could put off
calling Donna any longer.

"You know...I'm glad."

Josh looked at him for a moment, not understanding. "What?"

"I mean, I'm not glad about you getting stuck here and all, but I'm
glad about you and Donna. I just...I don't think I told you that," Sam
said.

Josh looked at him for a minute. "Thanks, Sam. I know it's made more
work for you and I appreciate all you've been doing."

"Hey, if it means Donna gets better and the two of you get to spend
some time together then I'm happy to help."

"Speaking of Donna, I guess I should call and talk to her," Josh replied.

Just then the President and Leo appeared in Josh's doorway. "Hey,
Josh. Hey, Sam," the President greeted them.

Josh and Sam immediately stood, "Good  evening, Mr. President," the
two of them replied.

"Is there something we can do for you, sir?" Josh asked.

The President glanced at Leo and they exchanged an unreadable look.
"Actually, Josh, it's something I can do for you. You see, I just had
a rather interesting call from my wife, threatening me with a visit
from my mother-in-law if I didn't have your ass in Manchester by
tomorrow noon."

Part of Josh wanted to jump up and down but then he realized how it
could look, "Sir, I would never asker her to..."

Jed waved him off. "I know you didn't. In case you haven't noticed my
wife and I happen to be very fond of Donna and we think that after all
she's gone through she deserves a break. Abbey tells me that when
Donna found out that D.C. was effectively snowed in, she so
disappointed that her chin could have been used to mop the floor." He
paused.  "So Abbey and I plan to remedy that. Leo, would you like to
take it from there?"

Leo took a step forward, a fatherly gleam in his eye. "A car's going
to be here in about 15 minutes. It's going to stop at Donna's
apartment so you can get your things..."

Josh looked at Leo, "How did you know?" He hadn't told anyone he'd
been staying at Donna's.

"'Cause you're in love with her and I'm not stupid," he replied.  "Now
if you'll let me continue?" Josh nodded.  "Then the car will take you
to Andrews. In about an hour, there's supposed to be a short break in
the weather. When it does, we've arranged for a jet helicopter to fly
you from Andrews to the Pittsburgh Airport. The full force of the
storm's not due to hit Pittsburgh until tomorrow afternoon, so we've
booked you on the first morning flight. You'll have to spend the night
in the airport but you should get into Manchester about the same time
you were originally scheduled to. A Secret Service agent will pick you
up at the airport and take you out to the farm."

Josh was speechless. "I...I don't know what to say."

"Well, that would be a switch," the President muttered.

"Wait a minute, isn't it breaking like 15 laws for me to take a
military helicopter for personal business, especially when I'm a
civilian?"

"Officially, you're going as a courier for me," the President
explained. "Between the things that you've already collected to take
back to Abbey and this envelope of important papers I'd like you to
deliver to her, you qualify." He said with a little grin as he handed
the envelope to Josh.

Josh took the envelope and slid it into his backpack. "But what about
our meeting tonight concerning the judicial appointments?" Josh asked
Leo.

"You can still be in on it from the car and while you're waiting at
Andrews for the weather to clear," Leo replied. He looked at his
watch.  "Well, we'll let you have a minute to get your things
together." He and the President turned to leave.

"Thanks, Leo and thank you, Mr. President," Josh replied.

The President stopped and turned back to him, "A couple of final
thoughts before you take off, Josh. I'm sure you're first instinct is
to call and tell her that you're coming but why don't you let it be a
surprise?  Women love surprises. Then someplace between here and the
farm I'd dig up some flowers for Donna. Women like flowers even more
than surprises. And finally, since my wife tells me we've unofficially
adopted Donna, if you hurt her I will see to it that someone breaks
your kneecaps faster than you can say, 'secret plan to fight
inflation.'"

Josh swallowed, "Yes, sir."

"Oh, and what's this I hear about Abbey making you chop wood?"

"Well, sir, I..." he hesitated.

"Just what did you do to piss her off enough to get that honor?"

"I....well...I may sort of...maybe implied....accidentally....that she
was cheating at solitaire."

The President looked at him for a second, "Yep, that would do it. I'd
recommend you not do that again or she'll have you mucking out the
stalls."

"Yes, sir.  Believe me when I tell you that was a lesson learned."

"Good. Well, have a nice time, " Jed called as he turned and walked
out into the hallway where Leo was waiting for him.

"So what was really in the envelope?" Leo asked as they walked back to
the office.

The President smirked. "An agreement for Abbey to sign stating that
she won't invite her mother to Thanksgiving."

**********

Holding the halter rope in her hand, Donna and Harley brought Star
Fire out of the barn. Donna had volunteered to help exercise the
horses.  It had the dual purpose of giving her something to keep her
mind off the fact that Josh wasn't going to get there for another two
days.

She and Harley walked beside the horse as they made two circles around
the wide paddock and then up to the main road.

It was still and quiet, which of course only made her more
contemplative. The sky had remained a dull gray but the snow had
stopped falling earlier that morning, leaving everything coated in a
sound dampening blanket of white. The crunch of their respective hoof,
paw and foot steps as they moved over the snowy ground was the only
sound she heard.

She patted Star Fire's neck as they continued up the road toward the
main house. The chestnut colored mare was called Star Fire because of
the brilliant white starburst on her forehead.  Donna figured that
they'd walk around the house and back up to the stables.

As they neared the house, Donna heard a familiar thump coming from
behind the house. Harley's ears heard it to and with a start, he took
off and disappeared behind the house. A moment later she heard his
excited barking. With a frown she lead the horse in the same
direction. Her heart was pounding as she rounded the corner.  It
couldn't be who she thought was....could it?

And then there was Josh, big as life, standing there chopping wood.
His jacket was off but he'd left his navy sweatshirt on. He was such a
welcome sight, for a moment she considered tackling him into the snow.

"Hey, Donna," he said, without breaking his rhythm. "I wondered when
you were going to get back." The casual tone of his words were in
direct contrast to how he felt.  His heart was nearly beating out of
his chest at getting to see her. It had only been a week, and not even
an entire week at that, since he'd seen her, but even bundled in her
winter gear she looked wonderful.

"Josh?" she said, with a hard blink to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

"Yes?" he replied, resting the axe against the stump and turning toward her.

Still not quite believing her eyes, she tied the halter rope to a
nearby tree and slowly walked toward him.

Josh grinned at her, making his dimples stand out in full force.
"What's wrong?  You look like you've seen a ghost."

His words seemed to remind her feet how to work and she launched
herself at him. "Josh!?"

Laughing, he managed to catch her and still keep them both upright as
they hugged each other. "What? You were expecting, Sam?" he said into
her hair.

She pulled back but they kept their arms around each other.  "What are
you doing here?  When I talked to you last night you said you were
stuck in D.C. and couldn't get here until Monday."

He looked at her for a moment and had a flashback to the night of the
second inauguration and the snowball barrage against her window. Just
like that night, her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her eyes
sparkled, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. Only this time
she was smiling instead of worried he was going to yell at her. "You
look amazing," he said, echoing his words from that night.

And just like that night, she smiled brilliantly in response. "And you
didn't answer my question."

"You'll have to repeat it, I was kind of distracted when you asked it
the first time," he said with a grin.

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here?"

"I'm chopping wood, or at least I was until you ran over here and
tried to tackle me."

"Josh," she said, playfully punching him in the arm.

He looked at her for a moment, "It was a surprise."

"But how did you get out of D.C.? I heard everything was shut down."

"Well, that's kind of a long, strange story."

She smiled at him and took his hand. "Well, come on I need to take
Star Fire back to the stable. You can come with me and tell me all
about it."

Hand in hand, the two of them, followed close behind by Harley, walked
the horse back to the stable.

"So I spent last night in the Pittsburgh airport and caught the first
flight out this morning," he explained as she brushed down the horse.
"I just told you I was still in D.C. so you'd be surprised."

"Well, it worked. So how did you get into the house without me seeing you?"

"Ah, see that's where staying at the home of a sitting President works
to my advantage," he replied.

She closed Star Fire's stall door and leaned against it as she thought
for a minute, "The agents?"

He nodded and grinned,  "And Mrs. Bartlet. I have spies everywhere.
They had my car wait at the front gate until you'd gone into the barn
and then they hustled me up and unloaded the car before you came out.
Then they told me where you were and when they said you were coming up
the road, I went out to start chopping wood."

"Since when did your stealth gene kick in?" She asked him as they
walked out of the barn and headed for the back door of the house.

"Ever since I wanted to surprise you," he said softly, giving her hand
a squeeze. "I am now officially the King of Stealth."

"One episode does not a monarch make," she told him.

"Okay," he said leaning down he pulled out the bouquet of yellow roses
out from under the jacket he'd left laying by the axe. "But you have
to admit I AM the King of Surprises."

"Oh, Josh," she said as she took them from him. Donna melted at the
bouquet of roses he held out to her. She leaned in a took a deep
breath of their fragrance. "Okay, I'll give you the King of
Surprises," she said with a smile.

He was thrilled that the flowers were a hit. "Do I get a badge or
crown or something?"

She looked up from the roses, a mischievous gleam in her eye. While he
had scored big points with the surprises, she couldn't have it going
to his head or he'd be impossible to live with.  "I wouldn't go quite
that far.  While I do acknowledge that, yes, you are the King of
Surprises, you were only able to pull it off with help from the leader
of the free world, his wife, the Secret Service and the 52nd
Airborne."

"Be that as it may, it does not detract from my 'kingliness,' so from
now on I would like you to address me as......oof" The next words were
lost as Donna shoved him backward into a snow bank. "What was that
for?" he demanded.

"Well, your head was getting a little swollen and I thought you might
need to put some ice on it," she said with a grin. "You see, while I
agree you are the King of Surprises, I, you see, am the QUEEN of
Surprises."

Despite being covered in snow, he grinned up at her.  "Okay, I
conceded you are the Queen of Surprises." He paused and his dimples
broke out again.  "But I bet I can make a better snow angel than you
can," he challenged.

Never one to let a challenge from Josh go unanswered, she looked down
at him. "Oh, I don't think so." Laughing, she carefully laid the
flowers on the back steps and then she dropped down into the snow a
couple feet away from him and started rubbing her arms and legs back
and forth as Josh did the same.

Harley liking the new mysterious game that his human and her human
were playing barked and danced playfully around them. Then, like any
good dog, he dropped onto the snow and started rolling around in it
himself. Of course he wasn't trying to make a pattern like Josh and
Donna were but he was having fun all the same.

Abbey heard the laughter and the barking and went to the window.  She
looked down into the backyard. Josh and Donna were laughing
hysterically as they furiously waved their arms and legs back and
forth, leaving the angel-shaped imprints in the snow. Harley was
rolling around on his back, leaving something more like a round blob
shape in the snow. Abbey smiled. She owed Jed big for this one and she
knew it. She'd have to pack a certain 'special garment' when she went
to D.C. in a couple of days.

**********

Donna finished up the dinner dishes and walked into the living room,
where a large roaring fire was currently burning in the fireplace.
Harley was asleep on the floor near the hearth. For a change, the
stereo, rather than the TV, was switched on and was playing a variety
of oldies music from the 50's and the 60's.

She didn't know where Abbey was, but Josh was in the study were he had
retreated after dinner to take a call from Leo and the President.

Donna sat down on the wide sofa and, leaning back against the
cushions, she stared at the fire. All the things she'd been thinking
about while Josh had been gone, ran through her head. She just wished
she knew what Josh was going to say when she told him.

"Hey," Josh said quietly, laying his hand on her shoulder. He jumped
when she startled under his touch. "I'm sorry, Donna.  I didn't mean
to startle you. I thought you heard my footsteps," he said sitting
down next to her on the couch.

She shook her head, "No, it was my fault. I'm sorry.  I was just thinking."

Josh took her hand. "We both seem to have some things to talk about.
Do you want to do it now?"

She looked down at their clasped hands,  the simple but unifying image
of it gave her a little more courage. "Yes, if you have time, I think
now would be good."

"You want to go first?" he asked her.

"Could you go first?" she replied.

"Sure," he said with more confidence than he felt.  He didn't really
want to tell her what he found out from Mike but she'd been honest
with him from the beginning and she deserved to know.

"Donna, I know you didn't ask me to and you may be mad at me for doing
it without your permission, but I asked Mike Casper to look into your
Aunt Ruth and Uncle Tim." He stopped there to gauge her reaction.

She looked at him, "I'm not mad, Josh.  I'm sure you had your reasons.
 But can you tell me why? I mean, they've been dead for so long I'm
sure there wasn't much to find."

"I did it because I wondered if this was a pattern with your uncle,
and actually there was a lot more to find than you might think."

Donna wasn't honestly sure she wanted to know. "Like what?"

"Like the fact he was a predator."

"What do you mean?" she replied.

"He was investigated for molestation twice before he married your Aunt
Ruth and he was under investigation for statutory rape when he died."
Donna was silent but Josh could see the wheels turning.  "Don't you
see? You weren't his only victim, Donna. There's no way you could have
protected yourself from him.  The only ones that could have helped you
were your Aunt Ruth and your parents and they let you down."

Donna sat there trying to absorb what he was saying. Taking into
account what he'd just told her, there's no way that what happened to
her that summer was her fault.  On an intellectual level she'd known
that but this seemed to chase the lingering doubts from her heart as
well. "It wasn't my fault," she whispered.

He squeezed her hand.  "That's right, Donna.  It's wasn't your fault."

She looked at him for a moment. "Thank you for that," she said, quietly.

"There's one other thing. Mike found the police report from the night
of the fire.  The night they died. He happened a little differently
than you heard your Mom say it did."

"Really? What happened?"

"There was a witness to what happened that night. It was the girl he
was accused of raping. In her statement she said that your aunt came
home and found your uncle and her together. Your Aunt flew into a rage
and burnt the barn down around them. Only the girl made it out in
time." He wasn't planning to get anymore detailed than that.

"Oh, my God," Donna said. "I'm sure my mom said it was an accident."

Josh thought for a moment.  "It's very possible that was the story she
was told by the authorities. Apparently one of the reasons Henderson
was never successfully prosecuted for the molestation charges was that
his family was fairly prominent and saw to it that things were hushed
up."

"Oh, well I guess that makes sense," she replied, again trying to take
it all in. It was a sad footnote to that chapter in her life. And it
brought her past into just a little bit sharper focus.  She also had a
feeling that knowing what Josh had just told her, would help her move
forward that much sooner. It was yet another item she could clean out
of her mental attic.

"Donna?" Josh asked her.  "You okay?"

She smiled.  "Yeah.  I am." She gave his hand a squeeze. "Thank you
for checking on this for me. I don't know if I would have been strong
enough to ask for it on my own."

He looked at her for a moment, "Well, to be honest I had to try and DO
something to help. I mean there wasn't anyone left alive to punish and
you know what a compulsive fixer I am. I guess I thought the least I
could was give you the truth."

She laid her free hand on his cheek.  "You've helped me more than
you'll ever know just by standing by me through all this." Her hand
dropped from his cheek to cover their clasped hands. "I couldn't have
survived all this without your love and support."

He tucked their hands against his chest and pulled her into a hug.
"Thank you for letting me be there for you."

They sat there for a moment. Donna knew that the moment had come for
her to say what she'd been thinking. She pulled back and slid her hand
from his. "Josh, do you remember those things that I said I wanted to
talk to you about?" He nodded.

"Well, I need to say them now or they're never going to get said." She
stood up and walked over to the fireplace. "I'm also pretty scared to
tell you because I'm not sure you're going to like what I have to
say."

He remained on the couch to give her some space. "Okay, now that
you've scared both of us, tell me what's on your mind," he replied,
his heart beginning to beat rapidly.

She took a breath. "I've been thinking a lot about the future," she
began. "It's funny how reviewing the past can make you do that." She
took another breath and turned to face him. "I don't want to resurrect
Sydney." She waited for a response.

"I don't want that either," he told her. "I don't ever want that."

'Well, at least they we're off to a good start,' she thought. "In
fact, I want to talk to CJ about putting together a plan for me going
public about my 'death.'" She paused.  "I want to tell the Press as
soon as they catch the Strangler.  I think it's the only way to get my
life back. I don't want to hide anymore."

Josh nodded, "Okay.  I agree."

"Josh, I want to make some changes in my life," she said quietly, but
with utter resolve. It was time to rip the band-aid off. "I don't
think I want to go back to work at the White House. Even after they
catch the Strangler."

Josh felt his heart drop to his feet. He'd always imagined that
eventually she'd go back to working with him. Their working
relationship had always been something that defined who they were
together. Not to mention the fact that having her close by made the
worst day not so bad and the best day a celebration.

Donna read the stiffness in his posture and cursed silently. 'Here's
where the train goes off the tracks,' she thought. She pressed forward
and hoped when she got done he would understand.

"I can't always be your assistant, Josh.  As much as I've enjoyed it,
as much as it's taught me, as many opportunities as it's given me, and
as much as I love working with you in the White House, on a
professional level I need to find something for me. I want to finish
school. I don't know what I'm going to major in and I don't know how
I'm going to pay for it but I'm determined to do it."

She paused. "Plus, with my ulcer and everything that's still kind of
going on inside me, I don't think the high stress environment of White
House is a really healthy place for me to be right now. And you know
there's going to be fall out when my resurrection goes public. Going
back to work at the White House would only make it worse.  With the
administration being in its closing years it might not hurt the
President, but I'm pretty sure that even CJ couldn't spin it enough to
keep it from hurting you and me."

She paused. "In the short term I thought I'd talk to Sam about helping
him set up his law office. Right now, I wouldn't need to interact with
clients except maybe over the phone so I could keep a low profile
until they catch the strangler. I'm still thinking through the
details," she admitted. "I'd like your input if you're willing to give
it."

Josh sat there, his heart barely beating. She didn't want him. After
all they'd gone through together, she was walking away. He'd always
lived in fear of this day and now it had arrived on his front
doorstep.

"But," she began. "There's also one very important reason why I don't
want you to be my boss anymore."

He managed to swallow and he looked up at her. "Why?"

In that one word she could plainly hear the distress in his voice. She
leaned against the wall by the fire place. "You." He frowned and she
hoped she was about to get through to him. "Do you remember when you
told me once that you thought that someday things would happen for
us?" she said, waving her finger between them.

He nodded and she continued.  "Well, I think so too. You see after the
attack I didn't think I had the capacity to have those feelings
anymore. But being here and working through everything, I've realized
that those feeling are still there and even though I'm still working
out some of my....issues, I think, no I know, that there will come a
time in what I think is the very near future that...you and I...that
we," she took a breath. "That we could have a future together."

Josh blinked and what she was saying was finally beginning to get
through. "You and I, we?"

She walked over, knelt down in front of him and took his hands in
hers.  "Yes, Josh. You and I, we. Don't you see, Josh? I want to be a
whole person for you and for myself and I want to make that journey as
your partner not as your assistant."

Josh stared at her, trying to put it all together. She wasn't leaving
him, she was just wasn't going to work with him. "I work all the time.
I'll never see you."

"Josh," she said quietly.  "First of all, the President is only going
to be in office for two more years. Second of all, look at all the
time we've spent together outside the office in the months since the
attack. Did you ever stop to think that if you had a good reason to
leave the office once in a while you would?"

He considered that for a moment. She'd made a couple of very distinct
points. He used to make her work so much because it was an excuse to
spend time with her that wouldn't attract anyone's attention.  What
she was saying was that if she wasn't his assistant, he would no
longer need an excuse to spend time with her. They'd have to take
things slow because of everything she was still working through and
until the Strangler was caught, they'd have to keep a slightly low
profile but they could go out,  have dinner, and date pretty much like
regular people.

Suddenly that sounded a whole lot more appealing than pouring over
briefing memos with her late into the evening. She also knew his job
was demanding and would understand when he did have to work. Plus
there was the fact that he could still talk to her about things.
Talking to her had always helped focus his argument and solidify his
position. That wouldn't change.

He looked at her upturned face.  "It must have been really hard for
you to tell me those things." She nodded.  "You're not leaving me,
you're just leaving your job?" She nodded and smiled. He smiled back
at her and gripped her hands.  "We'll find a way for you to pay for
school."

Her smile became a grin, "So you understand?"

"Personally things between us don't change.  Professionally we need to
find you a new job," he replied.

Her grin changed to a smirk. "Well, personally I hope things change
between us for the better in the very near future....but yes, I think
you get the idea."

As they sat there, the stereo continued to play softly in the back
ground. 'Sitting on the Dock of the Bay' started to play.

Josh looked at her, "Did I ever tell you how much I like this song?"

"No, I don't think you mentioned it," she said softly.

"Can I have this dance?" he asked her. Donna nodded and Josh stood,
pulling her to her feet.

They'd danced at any number of official functions but it had always
been measured and controlled. Never getting too close in case the
wrong person was watching or drawing conclusions they didn't want
drawn. But that night they simply moved together to the music, not
caring who saw them, only caring that they were there and together.

They took a turn around the living room with 'Sitting on the Dock of
the Bay' and Donna whistled along with the whistling part.

Josh sang along as they laughed and danced to 'Brown-Eyed Girl,'
except that he loudly substituted 'blue eyed' for 'brown eyed.'

They both laughed at their off-key rendition of "My Girl" and the fact
that both of them seemed to have a hard time getting the words
straight.

And when Abbey emerged from her small upstairs office about an hour
later, she found them still dancing. They were quiet then, their arms
wrapped tightly around each other, eyes closed and barely swaying to
'Moon River,' the theme song from 'Breakfast at Tiffany's.'

Feeling like an intruder, but happy to see that all was right with the
world, Abbey smiled and snuck down to the kitchen, got a snack and
snuck back upstairs to her office.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 36 - MATURE



Josh walked into the barn and over to where Donna was milking the cow.
He leaned over the edge of the stall door and smiled. "Hey, Heidi. You
and the cows having fun?" The 'Heidi' was in reference to the fact
that Donna was wearing her hair in two braids that morning.

Donna sat up and blew a stray strand of hair out of her face. Milking
was getting a bit easier but it was still a lot of work. She was on
her first of three cows she was supposed to milk and her back was
already hurting from leaning over. "Josh, please tell me you didn't
come out here to make fun of me," she said with a gleam in her eye.
"'Cause if you did you may learn first hand how good a milk bath is
for the skin when I pour a bucket of it over your head."

"Careful now," he said with a grin. "You'll give me ideas with you and
the milk bath."

Now it was her turn to smirk, "Yeah, because you never have ideas like
those on your own."

"Well, where you're concerned that's true," he smirked back. They
looked at each other for a minute.

"Did you finish your call with Leo?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, I think we've got the issues with the judicial appointments all
sewn up." He paused for a moment. "I came to tell you that you have a
visitor."

Donna looked at him a moment, her eyes taking on a look of
seriousness. "She's here?"

Josh's eyes softened and he nodded, "Yeah. Look, Donna, it's going to
be okay. She just wants to talk."

Donna sat up and winced as a twinge went through her back. "You're
right.  I know you're right. I even asked her to come. I don't know
why I'm nervous now."

"Back hurt?" he asked her. She nodded and he moved behind her.
Kneeling in the hay behind her, he slid his hands under her coat,
leaving her flannel shirt separating them as he pressed his thumbs
lightly into the middle of her lower back. "Here?"

"Yeah," she said with a groan.  Bending over to reach under the cow
had been wreaking havoc with her back. Luckily, most of the cattle on
the farm were steers and not dairy cows.

Josh began kneading that area of her back gently with his thumbs as
she leaned back into his hands. His fingers itched to touch her bare
skin but for now he could survive on feeling the heat of her body
through her clothing. "It's okay to be nervous. Going forward with
this is a scary step," he told her.

Donna closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the feeling of his hands
moving over her back. He'd been doing this for her for the last few
days after she was done milking the cows before they turned in for the
night.  She'd quickly come to the conclusion that he had magic hands.

Josh continued to press his thumbs into her back. She was quiet and
relaxed in his hands. He wished they could stay that way, but he knew
that their guest was waiting. "Donna?" he said softly.  When he got no
response he grinned and stilled his hands. "Donna?"

Donna shook herself.  "Wha..?" she asked snapping out of the trance
Josh's hands had put her in. "Sorry.  Your hands were giving me ideas
of my own."

He smiled at her. "Then my work here is done."  Reluctantly, he pulled
his hands out from under her jacket and laid them on her shoulders.
"You've got a visitor, remember?"

"Oh, right," she said, clearly sorry that the moment between them had
passed. She looked around and frowned. "Where is she?"

Josh grinned, "She's in the house.  After the snake incident the only
way she'll come in the barn is for the President himself." He stood up
and held out his hand. "Come on," he said, helping her to her feet.
"Take the milk you've already gotten and you can come back and finish
with 'Bessie' here later," He said, patting the cow lightly on the
shoulder.

After leaving the milk in a special refrigerated room at the end of
the barn, they joined hands and walked toward the house.

CJ stood in the front parlor and watched as the two of them approached
the house. They were laughing at some private joke and if that wasn't
enough of a sign that things between them had changed, the sight of
their clasped hands was a dead giveaway. Although if she was honest,
CJ knew that things had started changing between them the day that
Josh had found out that Donna had been assaulted and was in the
hospital.

All at once, CJ was struck by three reactions. The Press Secretary in
her was vaguely annoyed and already thinking about fallout from their
relationship. The friend part of her could only keep saying, 'It's
about damn time.' And the woman in her was jealous and wished it was
her. Not with Josh, of course, since he was more like her annoying
older brother than a possible romantic prospect, but she'd love to
have such a special relationship with someone. Someone she could lean
on and share things with.

Hearing them coming in the mudroom, she shook herself free the
lingering thoughts and went to meet them. "Hey, Donna," she greeted
warmly as they walked into the kitchen.  The two woman hugged briefly.
 "You look great," CJ told her and she meant it. She'd stopped by to
see Donna shortly before she, Josh and Abbey had left for Manchester
and she'd looked tired, troubled, and....sad, was the only way CJ
could think to describe it. But now, even though she was still thinner
than she should be, Donna looked glowing and happy.

"So do you," Donna told her with a smile, admiring the wool suit CJ was wearing.

"Mrs. Bartlet said to tell you hello."

As part of the bargain Abbey had made with Jed to get Josh up to
Manchester on schedule, she'd gone back to Washington to visit Jed for
some quality time and, unbeknownst to everyone but Jed, a little
'barbecuing.' The following week,  Abbey, Jed and the girls, along
with their respective families and guests would be descending upon the
Manchester house for Thanksgiving. Minus, of course, Abbey's mother.

"Oh, thanks. If you see her, be sure to tell her that Josh and I
haven't burned the place down or anything,"  Then she sobered a bit.
"Why don't we go in the study and talk?"

"Okay, sounds good," CJ replied.

"I set my computer up in the dining room so I'll be in there.  If you
need me, just yell," Josh told them.  He and Donna had discussed it
and Donna wanted to try and do this on her own. He squeezed her hand
and let it slide from his as the two women turned to go to the study.

"So what's this I hear about you milking cows?" CJ asked her as they
walked down the hall.

Donna smiled as they entered the study. She thought about closing the
door but since Josh was the only other person in the house she didn't
see the point. "Barbara thought it might be a helpful form a therapy
to work out in the barn."

CJ frowned. "Why the barn?" she asked as they sat down on the wide sofa.

Donna stopped for a moment. She was so used to CJ knowing everything
that she assumed  Abbey or Josh would have told her about what she
remembered about her childhood. It touched her that they had kept her
confidence so completely. But Donna felt it was important for CJ to
know the truth. Besides being the Press Secretary, CJ was her friend
and she felt only right in telling her what she'd remembered.

"CJ," Donna began.  "Part of the reason we came out here to the farm
was because I was having nightmares about a barn and didn't know why.
Barbara thought being on a farm and around a barn might help."

CJ looked at her for a minute. "Did it?"

"Well, I guess that would depend on your opinion but, yes, I think it
did. You see, I remembered some incidents from my childhood that I had
forgotten," Donna told her. She took a steadying breath. "I don't want
to go into too much detail but I remembered being molested by my Uncle
in the barn he and my aunt had on their farm in Iowa."

"Really?" CJ said shocked.

"Yes. It happened the summer I was 12 years old and my parents sent me
to stay with my aunt and uncle for the summer."

CJ didn't know what to say that didn't sound trite, so she went with
the first thing that came to mind.  "Oh, Donna, I'm so sorry."

"Well, I just thought you should know. I mean I can't imagine how it
would come up in the press or anything, but I...," she smiled shyly.
"I wanted you to know as my friend, too."

"I appreciate that, Donna.  I know it must have taken a lot for you to
tell me." She paused. "Are you going to press charges against your
uncle?"

"No, he and my aunt died in a barn fire when I was 13."

"Oh, well...I know I keep saying this but I really am sorry.  On top
of everything else you've been dealing with, remembering that must
have been tough."

"Yeah," Donna said with a quiet nod.  "I'd be lying if I said it
hasn't been hard. Therapy has helped a lot. We're down from three days
a week to just once and Barbara decided we could skip next week all
together since it's Thanksgiving."

Donna looked down at her hands for a moment. "The other thing that has
helped me get better was Josh. I couldn't have gotten through it
without him." She looked up at CJ. "And that's why I wanted to talk to
you about going public with my 'resurrection' just as soon as they
catch the Strangler. See, I've been doing some thinking about the
future."

Donna got up and walked to the window. "I've already told Josh what
I'm about to tell you so if you feel it's necessary to talk to him
then go right ahead, but my mind is made up." She turned and looked at
her. "CJ, I'm not going to come back to work at the White House. Not
as Sydney and not as Donna Moss."

CJ was a little stunned at that. Although Josh was with the campaign a
couple of months before Donna arrived, now she just couldn't imagine
Josh without Donna as his assistant. But she could also see that Donna
was determined.  "What are you going to do?" CJ asked softly.

"For right now, I'm going to work for Sam. Josh and I have talked to
him and I'm going to help Sam set up his law practice. You know,
organize the office and set up his files. Then in the spring or fall
I'm going to go back to school and finish getting my degree."

CJ looked at her for a moment. A swell of pride went through her. It
was the same feeling that always went through her when one of the
Sisterhood started to take control of their life.  "Good for you,
Donna.  I think that's terrific." She paused, "If you don't mind me
asking, where does that leave you and Josh?"

Donna smiled, "Exactly where we're supposed to be.  Together. Without
work standing between us. I love him, CJ and he loves me. There are
still things we're working or, more accurately, I'm working on, but
we're committed to being together."

She came back and sat down on the couch next to CJ.  "Which is where
you come in. When we go public with the fact that I'm not really dead,
there's going to be fallout. Potentially a lot of fallout. But I want
to do everything I can to minimize the damage the news will cause the
Josh and the White House. That's why I want to get things all planned
out ahead of time."

CJ nodded.  "I've already put together a number of ideas," she told
Donna. "And Leo and the President agreed with all of my
recommendations and said that however and whenever you'd like to
proceed they will support your decision."

Once again, Donna was touched by the support everyone had shown her
during the past few months. "Okay. What do you suggest I do?"

"Well, the fact that you're not coming back to work at the White House
is going to make things easier. So we're going to hope for the best
and prepare for the worst. We need to come at it from two fronts.
First, we leak it to the print news. I'm thinking Danny since he knows
you. Second, we'll set up some kind of televised interview. Maybe with
Diane Mathers. She did a fair job with Zoey's interview. Although I'd
recommend doing some practice before you went on with her so there
won't be any surprises." She paused. "They may ask about you and Josh,
especially if they connect the fact that you've both been here at the
farm for the last few weeks."

"You might as well know, he also stayed at my apartment the during the
two weeks before we came up here. Not that the press is going to care,
but it was platonic and because I needed him," Donna told her. "I'd
also appreciate it if you didn't give him crap about it."

"Well, we're not going to mention that part to the press." She paused
and looked at Donna. "And I promise not to harass Josh about staying
with you."

"Thanks," Donna told her with a relieved smile.

CJ moved on from the subject of Donna's relationship with Josh.  She
figured, at this point, the less said on the subject, the better.
"However, they are going to want to know where you've been for the
last few months and they're going to want to know about Sydney."

Donna frowned, "I was hoping we could avoid that. I'd kind of like to
forget Sydney ever existed."

"I'm sorry, Donna, but it's pretty much a forgone conclusion that
they're going to find out about her sooner or later. Some enterprising
reporter will want to find out if Sydney knew anything about you being
alive and they'll go looking for her and they'll find out that she
didn't go to back to California and she disappeared under rather
mysterious circumstances. Reporters love nothing more than a good
mystery. They'll keep digging and eventually they'll put two and two
together and they'll find out that you and Sydney were one and the
same. Then it will be a thing because it looks like you, and
consequently the White House, were covering it up. But if you're
upfront about Sydney right away it won't leave them much room to make
a fuss about it." She smiled, "Well, except for the fact that you were
effectively under their noses for three months and they didn't know
it. I can't wait to see Danny's face when he finds that out."

Donna smiled back. "I guess you have a point." She paused for a
second.  "What about my time in the hospital? The second time I mean.
You know, when I was in the psychiatric ward and then in the regular
hospital for cutting myself?"

"Look Donna, this is going to be my advice for a lot of issues that
are outside of the White House side of the story. It's going to be up
to you to decide what you do and do not want to talk about. Since a
lot of things fall in the category of privileged information between
you and your therapist, I doubt that they'll come up in an interview.
But if they do, or you simply want to go public with those things and
you want to speak out about them, then I think you should."

"Well, I'm not sure I'm ready to go that far.  I'm still trying to
process everything for myself. I doubt I'm up for being the
spokesperson for a given cause." Although part of her thought that
given a little bit of time that might change. If nothing else she
wanted something positive to come out of what had happened to her. If
she could help one child who was being abused and wasn't able to tell
anyone or someone was injuring themselves and thought no one could
possibly know how they felt, then it would be worth all the pain she'd
had to go through.

**********

"Thanks for coming, CJ.  I know you've been really busy and it took
you away from a lot of other things that needed your attention," Donna
told her as she and Josh walked CJ out to the car. The snow they'd
gotten over the weekend had all but melted, leaving it very cold but
dry outside.

"Well, this is what needed my attention right now," CJ told her. "And
I didn't think that it was something we should just talk about over
the phone."

"We still appreciate you coming," Josh said.

CJ stopped next to the car. She suppressed a smile at how quickly Josh
and Donna had become a unit outside of work. "Donna, whether you work
at the White House or not, remember that you've got friends there care
a lot about you and will bend over backwards to help you."

"I know," she glanced at Josh. "That has been the biggest lesson I've
learned from this whole experience." She smiled, "Oh! I almost forgot.
 Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving next week?"

"Nope."

"Well, Josh and I are going to be having Thanksgiving dinner with all
the trimmings at my apartment if you'd like to come over."

CJ smiled, "I'd like that."

"We're going to eat about 1 pm. Josh is going to invite Sam and Toby,
too, when he talks to them this afternoon."

CJ smirked. "Well, that should take care of the entertainment. Toby
and Samuel can always be counted on to provide quite the floor show.
Can I bring anything?"

"Actually how about some kind of dessert?  Maybe a pie," Donna suggested.

"I don't have to actually bake it myself do I?"

"Nope."

"Okay, I'm in," CJ replied. "So when do you guys head back for D.C.?"

"Sunday. We figured we'd give the Bartlets their house back for
Thanksgiving since their daughters are all going to be here together."

"You going to be back in the office on Monday, Josh?"

"Yep. That's the plan," he replied.

"Okay, well, I better get going or I'm going to miss my flight." She
climbed into the backseat of the car and rolled down the window. "I'll
talk to you guys next week."

Josh took Donna's hand as they watched the car pull away from the
house and disappear down the road.

"Well, how did it go?" Josh asked her as they walked back toward the house.

"I think it went well.  When the time is right she thinks we should
leak it to the print media..."

"Namely, Danny."

She smiled. "Right.  Leak it to them first and then do some kind of
follow-up interview, maybe with Diane Mathers."

"Hmmm. Are you sure you're ready for that?" he asked her. "CJ's always
saying how Diane can even make dictators cry on camera."

Donna sighed, "No, I'm not sure I'm ready at all. But at least I don't
have to do anything about it right now. After all, they haven't caught
the Strangler yet."

"Well, you have a point there." He pulled her into his arms.  She
looked like she needed a hug. "Don't worry, Donna. We're going to get
through this just like we've gotten through everything else."

"I know," she said softly.

He pulled back and smiled.  "Hey, how would you like some help with
milking the cows?"

She looked at him with a smirk, "Josh, do you even know how to milk a cow?"

He grinned as they started walking toward the barn. "Nope.  You can
show me or, you know, I can make fun of you while you do it."

"How does that help me?"

"Well, I guess it doesn't help you so much as it provides
entertainment for me," he replied with a smirk.

Donna looked at him for a minute, "While you're making fun of me will
you occasionally give me those back rubs you're so good at?"

His eyes met hers and he grinned, "I think that can be arranged."

**********

"Throw the ball!" Josh yelled at the TV.  The quarterback wasn't able
to get the ball off before he was tackled. "Aw, man.  These guys
suck!"

It was late afternoon on the day after Thanksgiving and Josh, Toby and
Sam were watching college football at Sam's new apartment. With the
President in Manchester, Leo had, barring a national emergency, kicked
them all out of the White House until Monday.

"Well, if you weren't rooting for Arkansas, you might actually, you
know, enjoy the game," Toby commented.

"Shut up, Toby.  Don't start gloating just because LSU is playing a
freakishly good game."

"The only thing that's freakish about this game is the fact that the
Arkansas quarterback throws like a girl," Toby shot back.

"Aimes does not throw like a girl, they're saying that he's in the
running for the Heisman trophy this year."

"Yeah, maybe in Bizarro world."

"Toby!" he said, trying to think of a good comeback. When none was
forthcoming, turned on Sam.  "And what are you smirking at?"

Sam grinned, unfazed by Josh's blustering.  "I'm just glad it's you
he's picking on you for a change and not me."  He took a bite of the
turkey sandwich he'd made from the Thanksgiving leftovers Donna had
sent over with Josh so they would have something to eat besides beer
and Doritos while they watched the games.

Just then Josh's cell phone began to ring. "Saved by the bell," he
muttered as he pulled it out. Then he frowned slightly as he saw the
ID on the display.  He walked into the kitchen for some peace and
quiet as he answered it.  "Hey, Mike."

Mike Casper skipped the preamble and cut right to the chase. What he
had to say nearly made Josh drop the phone.  "We got him."

**********

As for CJ and Donna, they were braving the cold, rainy weather to hit
all the day after Thanksgiving sales. Donna was wearing a semi
disguise composed of her own jeans and one of Josh's baggy sweatshirts
and his beloved Mets baseball cap. She also had his credit card in her
wallet so she was able to could cut a swatch in his Christmas shopping
while she did hers. She'd left Harley back at the apartment and hoped
that she'd find her furniture in one piece when she got back.

"Well, I think between the two of us, we've cleaned out every major
department store in metropolitan D.C." CJ told Donna with a laugh as
they rode in CJ's car on the way back to Donna's apartment.

"That's the truth. I still think you came up with the best bargain of
the day with that cashmere sweater you got for your niece at 50% off.
She'll love it."

CJ grinned. "Yes, now that Hogan's in college she's more of a
clotheshorse than I am."

Donna laughed, "Well, that's teenagers for you." Her laughter slowly
faded and she looked out the window. Today had felt so...normal. She'd
missed normal in the last few months and it suddenly seemed very
precious. "CJ?"

She felt the shift in Donna's mood, "What?"

"Thank you for today," she said quietly. "I had fun."

CJ glanced from the traffic to Donna and back again.  "I had fun too,"
she said. "And if I remember correctly, it was your suggestion so let
me thank you. I get so busy at the White House I don't usually get to
take time for regular, fun stuff like Christmas shopping." CJ pulled
the car up in front of Donna's building. The rain had stopped for the
moment but the sky still looked heavy and ready to spill over again
any minute.

Donna smiled, "Yeah, I think the last time Josh gave me time off to go
Christmas shopping was two years ago when I promised to buy him
something while I was out."

CJ looked at her for a minute, her eyes soft with understanding, "You
had that covered this time though, didn't you? I think half the stuff
you bought was for him or his friends and family."

"Yeah, well, Josh is useless when it comes to shopping. I took over
buying his Christmas gifts a long time ago."

CJ was quiet for a moment. "You know Donna, the rest of us haven't
been blind to the fact that both you and Josh have always had a unique
relationship. And I'd be lying if I said the Press Secretary part of
me hasn't been living in fear of the day when you'd both wake up and
do something about it and the headaches that would ensue with the
press over it."

She stared at Donna for a minute, trying to pick the right words.
"But even the friend part of me was a bit skeptical that Josh would be
the right guy for you." Donna started to protest but CJ raised her
hand to stop her. "I love Josh like a brother but he can be very
self-absorbed and arrogant. It's part of what makes him so great at
what he does. I wanted to see you with someone who would put you and
your needs above their own."

She paused. "Knowing Josh the way I do, I never thought anything would
come before politics in his heart. But believe me when I say that what
I've seen in the last few months has shown me how wrong I was. You
definitely come first for him. You're his center, Donna, and he's
yours. I can't tell you how happy I am that you two are working things
out. You guys belong together. You bring out the best in each other."
CJ smiled, her eyes a little unexpectedly misty. "And I'm so jealous I
could just kill you both."

Donna swallowed the tears that had formed in her own eyes. "Thanks,
CJ. Really, it means a lot to hear you say that."

"Now, enough of this mushy stuff," CJ said with a sniff. "Let's get
all your loot inside."

Between the two of them they managed to get all of Donna's bags
inside. Donna was pleased to see that Harley had left the apartment
intact.

"Josh is going to faint when he sees all the stuff you bought," CJ
said with a grin.

"No, he won't," Donna said with a confident gleam in her eye.

"How'd you manage that?"

She grinned, "I made him promise that he wouldn't say a word about
what I bought or he could do all his shopping himself."

"And that worked?"

Donna smirked, "Well, that and the fact that I told him if he said
anything he'd be sleeping on the couch." She'd already told CJ she and
Josh were sharing a bed most nights but it was only platonically.

CJ grinned, "I've taught you well, Grasshopper."

Donna gave a little bow, "Indeed you have, Master."

"Well, you've worn me out so I'm going to head for home. What are you
up to for the rest of the day?" CJ asked as they walked to the door.

"Since he's been cooped up all day, I'm going  to take Harley for a
walk. Then, since I sent all the leftovers to Sam's with Josh, I'm
going to have to think of something feed Josh when he gets back."
Stopping at the front door, she looked at the kitchen and found that
she was too tired to even consider cooking. "And right now, I'm
thinking take-out from Wong's Imperial Palace."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"How about you?" Donna asked her as they stood in the open doorway.

"I think I'm going to go home, light a fire in the fireplace, open a
bottle of wine and wrap the presents I bought today while I have a
chance," CJ replied.

"Oh, a glass of wine does sound good.  Maybe I'll open a bottle too
and see if there are any good Christmas movies on TV." Just then,
Donna's cell phone started to ring. "Oh, I better get that."

"That's my cue. I'll talk to you later," CJ called as she headed for the stairs.

"Bye, CJ!" Donna called after her. Quickly closing the door and
throwing the dead bolt, she made it to her purse in time to get the
call. She frowned when she saw it was Mike Casper. She pressed the
'talk' button.  "Hi, Mike.  Happy Thanksgiving."

"Hi Donna. Happy Thanksgiving." His voice was bursting with
excitement. "I've got some news for you."

"About what?"

"The Strangler.  Donna, we caught him."

Stunned, Donna sank down onto the couch. She hadn't been expecting
that answer and it had been a punch to the gut. "What?"

"We've got the Strangler in custody."

She just couldn't believe it. "You're sure it's him?"

"Absolutely positive.  I waited to call you until we were sure. We
actually took him into custody last night but we did some fingerprint
and DNA tests just to make sure we had the right guy and he matches
everything right down the line.  It's him. We're going to have a press
conference with the DC police in about an hour but I wanted you to
hear the news from me and not the TV."

Donna's head was spinning with the news. "What?....oh, I appreciate that Mike."

"Is Josh there? I want to tell him too."

"No, um, he's over at Sam's watching football," she managed to say.
"He's got his cell phone though if you want to call him."

"Okay, I'll do that," he paused. "Donna, you sound a little strange. You okay?"

Donna shook herself, "Oh, sure. Of course.  This is great news. Thanks
for all your hard work on this, Mike."

A smile entered his voice,  "I'm just glad we finally got him.  I have
to go now so I can call Josh and then get to the press conference."

"Right," Donna managed.  "Thanks again for calling, Mike."

"Talk to you later," he said and then he hung up.

Donna sat there on the couch staring at the phone in her hand. Then
she turned it off as if that would erase the call that she'd just
received.  They caught him. They'd caught the monster that had hurt
her and tried to kill her. The same one that had killed all those
other women. She couldn't seem to get her mind around it.

After a minute, her mind seemed to change gears in self-defense. She'd
been planning to do something.  What was it?  Oh, yes. Harley.  Harley
needed to go out for a walk. Still in a daze, she slipped the switched
off cell phone in her pocket, picked up Harley's leash, snapped it
onto his collar and took him outside. A light misty rain had begun to
fall again but she took no notice of it as she and Harley walked away
from the apartment.

A cold, hard rain began to fall in earnest as they walked along the
tidal basin towards the Jefferson Memorial. She didn't feel it soaking
her coat, Josh's sweatshirt, her jeans and down into her tennis shoes.
Didn't quite feel the dampness settle into her body. The strap of
Harley's leash bit into her hand, not because he was pulling at it but
because she was gripping it so hard.  Harley, ever faithful and
completely soaked by the rain, walked steadily and quietly by her
side. He seemed to understand her need to walk aimlessly.

How could the news that they'd caught her attacker send her into such
a tailspin?  She should be happy.  She should be relieved. Why wasn't
she? Because now she had to face what she hadn't. The attack four
months ago. The gaps in her memory and the fact that she'd been
working so hard on what had happened in her childhood,  had conspired
to keep her mind off of dealing with it.

Unless he confessed or was deemed legally insane, there would be a
trial and even though she, thankfully, wouldn't have to testify
because of her lack of memory, the evidence they'd taken from her body
would be used against him.  She'd have to go public with the fact that
she was alive. Soon. Very soon, because it would most likely come out
at the trial. She thought she was ready to do that, but now that the
time had pretty much arrived she wasn't so sure. She knew that to take
her life back she had to do it and she had to face this monster in
court but it didn't mean that it wasn't scaring the crap out of her.

Barbara would probably say that on at least one level it was a good
thing. She was facing another demon. Unlike her Uncle, this monster
was very much alive and would be held accountable for what he'd done.

As far as she'd come in the last few weeks, a small part of her wanted
to go back to the place in her life before the incident.  That's what
her life had come down to, "BI" and "AI."  "Before the Incident" and
"After the Incident."  Incident was the best way she had to describe
the attack.  She couldn't remember enough of it to justify calling it
anything else.

'But,' she sighed, 'going back is not an option.'  If only he'd bashed
her head hard enough to destroy her memory all together.  Actually if
he'd hadn't screwed up and he'd been able to kill her as he'd
intended, maybe it would have been best all around. That thought
brought her up a bit short and she sat down on a bench facing the
water. Harley sat down on the ground next to her, patiently resting
his chin on her knee.

Part of her wished he'd killed her. It wasn't something she'd realized
or acknowledged until that moment.  Death would have been the ultimate
level of not feeling anything. Maybe it had all been a mistake, she
thought.  Maybe she had been meant to die that night.  Maybe someone
had made an error in the great scorebook of life and she was here but
wasn't meant to be. Maybe....

'No,' she thought firmly. 'It wasn't that.  It couldn't be that.' Too
much had happened, too much that was good in her life, to say that it
was all a mistake. There had been a time when she would have believed
that life would be that cruel but not anymore. Not after everything
that had happened with Josh.

She looked down at Harley, who hadn't moved from her side or his head
from her knee. 'Stalwart Harley,' she thought, running her hand over
his wet head. Where would he be if she'd been killed that night? Odds
weren't good for a 2-year-old dog getting adopted.  Even one as cute
and smart as Harley.  Most people wanted a puppy or a purebred. Would
he still be in the pound if she hadn't been there to adopt him? What
if he'd been adopted by someone who was mean or who didn't appreciate
his specialness? Or worse yet, what if he'd been put to sleep because
nobody wanted him? She knew what it was to have no one want you and
she wouldn't wish it on anyone.  Man or beast.

And then what if she'd died in the hospital either because of Dr.
Todd's overdose or her infection? She looked down at Harley again.
Josh would have either kept Harley or made sure that he had a good
home. The image of Josh trying to take care of Harley caused a tiny
smile to tug at her mouth.   'They'd probably be living on burgers
masquerading as charcoal briquettes,' she thought.

Taking a breath, she remembered back to what she'd and Gram had talked
about. She had a purpose, Gram had told her. Donna now saw that she
hadn't just been talking about what had happened in her childhood but
also what had happened months ago as well. Surviving the attack had
been a gift and it wasn't one she could afford to waste.

So why was she sitting on this park bench feeling a lost and scared?
She sighed tiredly. Today had been a good day too. For just moment,
she'd felt normal. Now normal seemed a world away.

**********

Josh turned from Constitution Avenue onto 17th Street and then slowly
drove past the John Paul Jones statue at the edge of the Tidal Basin.
'Where could she be?' he wondered. After he'd gotten the call from
Mike, he wanted to be the first one to rejoice with her over the news.
So he'd tried to call her but gotten no answer on her cell or at the
phone in her apartment. He'd been relieved when he'd finally gotten a
hold of CJ and found out that Donna had planned to take Harley for a
walk. She'd probably just forgotten to take her cell phone with her.

Starting at her apartment, he made sure she hadn't come back from her
walk. Then getting back into the car, he drove the route he knew she
usually took Harley on.  But she wasn't there.  He'd slowly widened
his search area and had become more and more concerned when the bad
weather had set in and he still wasn't able to locate her. Following a
hunch he'd steered toward the Tidal Basin.  He knew she liked the
cherry trees, even when they weren't in bloom, and would come to the
Tidal Basin to walk Harley on the rare days he'd given 'Sydney' a
lunch hour. It was kind of a long walk from her apartment but he was
running out of places to look.

Driving past the Jefferson Memorial, he watched carefully for signs of
her and Harley. His heart jumped with recognition and relief as he saw
her sitting on a bench, Harley sat next to her. Trying to suppress a
flash of frustration, he pulled over and parked the car.  She didn't
even have an umbrella and even from the car he could tell she was
soaked.  "And you say I need a keeper," he mumbled, with rueful smile.

Climbing out of the car, he crossed the grass to the bench where she
was sitting.  Harley, every watchful, raised his head at Josh's
approach. If Donna noticed his arrival, she gave no indication.

Realizing it was Josh, Harley stood and wagging his tail, moved to
greet Josh.  If a dog could be relieved he would look just like Harley
did as Josh stepped up in front of the bench. His large brown eyes
almost seemed to say, 'I'm so glad you're here, please help her'.

"Hi Harley," Josh said, rubbing Harley behind the ears. He knelt down
in front of Donna, Harley taking a position next to him. "Donna?"

She turned to look at him for the first time, blinking in a mild look
of surprise.  "Josh," she said, her own voice sounding hollow. "What
are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he said.  "What are you doing out here in the rain?"

"I...." she began.  "....I was walking Harley."

"Donna, it's pouring out here. You don't even have an umbrella. You're soaked."

"I forgot it," she said, quietly. So quietly he almost didn't hear it
over the sound of the rain.

She looked pale, tired and dazed, he thought. Apparently for her, the
news about her assailant had not been so welcome. He had no idea why
that was, but intended to find out. But first things first.  The first
order of business was to get her out of the rain. He pulled Harley's
leash out of her hand. "Come on," he said, standing. He held out his
other hand.

She looked up at him, her eyes impossibly young and lost. His heart
broke for her. After a moment she slid her hand into his. Pulling her
to her feet, Josh slid his arm around her waist and steered her toward
the car. He loaded her into the front seat, Harley into the back, and
then climbed in himself. Turning the heater on full, he pulled back
onto the road. They drove through the city in silence, Donna slumped
into the front seat and Harley curled up in the back.

**********

When they got back to her apartment, he found a space right near the
front entrance and parked.  She didn't say anything or make any move
to get out.  Opening his door, he climbed out and took hold of
Harley's leash.  Harley jumped slowly, tiredly out of the car and
stayed right by Josh's side as they came around to Donna's door. Josh
pulled open her door, and taking her gently by the arm, helped her out
of the car and into her apartment.

So Harley wouldn't drip water all over the house while he took care of
Donna, Josh dried him off quickly but thoroughly with a towel.
Harley, knowing that Josh was on the case, curled up on his big pillow
and promptly went to sleep. Josh then turned up the heat a bit to make
sure it was warm enough in the apartment.  That's all he wanted to do
for her, he thought.  Keep her warm and safe.  Well, there were a
couple other things he wanted to do for her but now was not time for
his hormones to make an appearance.

Donna was attempting, with little success, to take off her soggy coat
when he returned. "Let me help you with that," he said, softly.
Gently, silently, he pulled  off her wet coat. He hung it on the coat
rack near the door and turned to give her the once over. As he
suspected, the clothes beneath hadn't faired much better than her coat
and were soaked. She'd started shivering slightly and was trying to
pull off the wet sweatshirt she had on but her cold stiff hands were
just about useless. He rubbed her hands and arms, trying to warm her
up a bit. But since his hands weren't much warmer than hers, it was
quickly apparent that it was a study in futility. "Donna, you're
freezing.  Let's get you into a hot shower."

"You'rrre cold, tooo," she said, still shivering.

"Donna, I'm not sure either of us ready to shower together," he joked.

"Wouuuld conserrrrve waterr," she tried to joke back. Then she had an
idea.  "Weee could leave ourrrr underrrrwear on."

He looked at her, "It's not going to be weird or anything for you?"

"Wouldn'tttt havvve suggested it ifff it was," she replied.

Taking her by the hand he lead her into the bathroom and sat her down
on the toilet lid. Turning the shower on to heat the water he turned
back to her. Together they managed to get her stripped down to her bra
and panties. Then he followed suit, quickly taking off everything but
his boxers and tossing all their soggy clothes into the bathroom sink.

Huge clouds of white fluffy steam began to fill the bathroom. After
testing the water to make sure it was hot but not scalding, he gently
tugged Donna into the shower with him. He stood her directly under the
spray where the hot water would rush over her the most.

There was nothing sexual in the tender way the touched her.  That
wasn't what the moment was about. He was there to look after her and
he studiously avoided noticing that the water had turned her white bra
and panties nearly transparent. There would be time to explore what he
was denying himself now.  He didn't reach for the soap or the shampoo,
instead, just letting the heated water do its work.

As the hot water began to thaw her out, Donna sagged against him,
resting her head on his shoulder and putting her arms around him.
"Thank you for taking care of me, Josh," she said, quietly.  Together
they stood under the surging hot water.  Part of her brain was trying
to tell her that she was standing, nearly naked in her shower with
Josh and that maybe she should be actively doing something about it.
But besides it not being the right time, she couldn't muster up the
energy to think about it too hard.

When Josh felt the water begin to cool slightly, he reached past her
and switched the shower off. "Wait here a minute," he said, softly as
he helped her sit down on the edge of the tub. Grabbing two towels he
wrapped her up in them.  As she dried herself off, he turned his back
to her and quickly shucked off his wet boxers, wrapping a towel
securely around his waist. Going into the bedroom he pulled on a dry
pair of boxers, a pair of sweat pants and a Harvard t-shirt. Then he
hunted up something for her to wear. Settling on a pair of flannel
pajamas he'd seen her wear, soft blue ones with little cows, jumping
over little moons, a thick pair of socks and a pair of blue cotton
briefs, he went back into the bathroom.

She was slowly toweling off her hair when he came in. Josh tossed his
soggy boxers in the bathroom sink. "I brought you something warm to
put on," he told her as he set everything on the corner of the sink.
"You need any help?"

She looked up at him and smiled gently, "No, I can get it."

He nodded.  "Okay, I'm going to go and make us some tea."

"Kay," she said.  "I'll be out in a minute."

Josh nodded and walked out to the kitchen.  He filled the kettle and
put it on to boil. As he waited for her and the kettle he paced the
small kitchen. He was worried. He was afraid she was slipping away
from him again. Something had to be done.  It was time for him to take
some action, whether she wanted him to or not.

Donna walked into the living room and settled herself tiredly on the
couch, covering herself with a soft, thick blanket.

"I'm sorry if you were worried, Josh. I guess I lost track of the
time," she said as he walked into the living room.

He walked over and stood in front of her, his hands in the pockets of
his sweat pants.  "Donna," he began softly.  He kept his voice low and
steady but firm.  "This can't go on.  I care about you too much to see
you do this to yourself.  You're forcing me to take drastic measures.
I'm invoking my privilege as someone who loves you and pulling out my
own set of 'The Rules.'  It's going to be my mission to see that you
follow them just like you made me follow them.

So...here they are.  Now these are just preliminary mind you, 'cause I
only have experience following the rules, not making them.  So bear
with me." Josh began to pace in front of her.

Something in Donna stirred.  The Rules.  He was pulling "The Rules" on
her. He really did love her. When she'd used The Rules on him after
Rosslyn it had been her way of loving him when she'd had no other
means to express it.

"Rule 1, No going out in the rain without an umbrella.

Rule 2, If you can't sleep we'll watch movies, I'll tell you bedtime
stories, we'll play Scrabble, whatever it takes.

Rule 3, You're going to start eating again. Don't think I haven't
noticed that, except for Thanksgiving yesterday, you're still not
eating enough.  So from now on, whenever possible, we will have all
meals together.  An example of a typical lunch meal will be a
hamburger burnt beyond all recognition and fries for me and salad for
you.  However, when it comes time to actually eat, we will split your
salad and you will be required to eat all my fries. And if necessary I
will force feed you milkshakes in the flavor of your choice."

Her heart felt like it would burst from the wave of love coursing through it.

"Rule 4, If you need a shoulder to cry on for whatever reason or for
no reason at all, I'm your guy.

Rule 5, If you're tempted to cut yourself, you will call me or find me
and we will talk it out.  Consider me your Sharp Objects Anonymous
Sponsor. In turn, if I ever feel like putting my hand through anything
made of glass I will call you."

Suddenly, she realized that all feelings of fear and being lost that
had been going through her head since Mike had called, were stupid.
She had Josh, and with him by her side she had everything to live for
and nothing to fear. Tears, like storm clouds, moved to gather in her
eyes.

"Rule 6, Remember that I love you very much," he finished, coming to a
stop in front of her. He'd laid his heart bare before her. The next
move would be hers to make.

Donna looked up at him and he watched as the tears gathered in her
eyes and started to course down her face.  'Oh, God I went too far,'
he thought as his heart twisted.  She wasn't ready for The Rules.  He
went to her, pushing the coffee table aside and kneeling in front of
her.  "Donna?  Donna, I'm sorry.  I didn't know The Rules would make
you cry.  Hey, we can negotiate The Rules.  Make me an offer.  You
know how I love to negotiate, heck I make my living negotiating with
Republicans and you know how tough they can be."

"No, don't be sorry.  I love The Rules. In fact, right about now, I'm
thinking I need to invoke Rule Number 4." They were the last words
Donna were able to get out. She just leaned forward and wrapped her
arms around Josh, burying her face in his neck.

Relieved she wasn't crying because of him, and wanting to be closer to
her, Josh shifted and climbed onto the couch with her. He gathered her
into his lap, keeping the blanket wrapped tightly around her. As much
as her sobs tore at his heart, he was secretly glad that she seemed be
finding some release to the pain and emotions she been fighting over
the last few months. He knew when she didn't cry was when he had to
worry. "Let it out, honey," he said, stroking her back in small
circles.

Her sobs slowly subsided and she shifted in his arms so she could look
at him. "I'm sorry, Josh."

"Don't be sorry," he told her.  "You want to talk about it?"

She nodded, "I do, but tomorrow, not tonight. Tomorrow morning I'll
tell you everything," she told him. "But for tonight I just want you
to hold me and let me fall asleep in your arms."

He laid his hand on her cheek and brushed his thumb over the residual
wetness there. "Good, because there's no place I'd rather be. Is now
too soon?"

She shook her head and climbing out of his lap, she stood up and held
out her hand to him.  "No. Now is perfect."

Taking her hand, Josh stood up. "Let me just turn off the tea kettle."
Moving into the kitchen he turned off the burner and flipped off the
kitchen light.

She was waiting for him when he came back into the living room. Taking
her hand in hers, he leaned over and used his free hand to switch off
the lamp, plunging the room into near darkness. The only light in the
room was coming from the early evening outside.

Donna felt Josh move to lead them into the bedroom but she stopped
him.  "Josh?" she said into the darkness. "You know what you said in
Rule 6?"

"Yeah?" he replied in a voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you, too."

Josh's heart ground to a halt. It touched him to hear her say the
words so plainly and beautifully. He felt her hand come up to his
cheek. Then he felt her breath on his lips. In the darkness he felt
the warmth of her body as she moved closer to him. Her hand slid from
his cheek to the back of his head.  A slight tremor went through him
as her fingers trailed through the damp hair at the nape of his neck.
With a gentle pressure at the back of his head, she pulled him closer
and brushed her lips tentatively against his.

This was completely different than what had happened the night she'd
woken up from her nightmare and turned to him for physical comfort.
The emotional component he'd told her was missing then was now very
much present and she was letting him know, without words, that he
could stop her if he wanted to.  But this time, stopping her was the
last thing on his mind.

Donna shivered slightly as she felt Josh respond. Slowly, he tangled
his fingers into her wet hair. Just as she had done, he used a gentle
pressure on her head to pull her closer and their lips met in earnest.

Things were heated as their lips explored each other. Searching,
giving, plundering. The kisses were passionate and full of promise and
made Donna's whole body feel awake and alive for what felt like the
first time in a long time.

Josh nibbled on her bottom lip, making her moan softly. Almost
instinctively, she opened her mouth to him. Their tongues tasted and
explored each other and still it wasn't enough.  Finally, needing to
come up for air, they broke apart. Resting their foreheads together
they stood breathing hard in the darkness.

"That was amazing," he finally managed.

"Definitely exceed my expectations," Donna replied in between breaths.

"We're going to be doing more of that," he told her with a smile. "A LOT more."

She smiled back at him in the darkness, "You bet your ass we are."

He chuckled.  "Come on, how about for right now, let's get some
sleep?" he said softly.

"Kay," she replied.  Taking his hand, she lead him into the bedroom.
Climbing under the covers they snuggled into each other's arms and
were both asleep in minutes.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 37 - MATURE



Donna drifted in a warm cocoon. It was Josh's arms around her that she
felt first. Then his legs tangled with hers. And finally his cheek
pressed lightly against the top of her head. Trying to shift as gently
and quietly as possible so she didn't wake him, Donna looked up at
him. And found him looking back at her with a small, slightly bemused
smile on his face.

"Good morning," he said, his voice husky with sleep.

Donna looked at him for a moment, then she stretched up and kissed him
lightly. "It is now."

Josh's bemused smile became a smirk, "You know that's twice you've
made with the kissing. I'm going to have to get to work if I'm going
to catch up."

She snuggled up against him, a sleepy smile on her face, "I'm ready
whenever you are."

He watched her for a minute then he leaned down and captured her lips.
He nibbled and teased her mouth until she started laughing. Pulling
back he looked at her with a frown. "Just a little tip. When I kiss
you, I usually take laughing as a bad thing."

She pressed her fingers to her smiling mouth, trying to suppress
another laugh. "I'm sorry, it's just that you haven't shaved yet and
the stubble on your cheek was tickling me."

He grinned. That gave him an idea. Shifting around slightly, he
descended on the alabaster length of her neck. He rubbed his cheek
against the spot where her pulse was beating, making her laugh and
squirm against him. Then without missing a beat, he soothed the area
with slow sweeps of his tongue as he tasted the pulse point and her.

Donna's laughter drained away to a soft moan as the feeling of his
mouth on her skin rolled over her. She turned her head a little to
give him better access to her neck and Josh felt her hand slide into
his hair to urge him on. As if to dry the wetness his tongue had left
on her skin, he covered the area in soft, slow kisses. Her moan faded
into a breathy sigh and just the hint of what could best be described
as a purr. Placing one last, long, slow kiss on the pulse point that
was now beating much faster than it had when he began, he pulled back
and looked at her.  "How was that?" he said with a smirk.

Donna, although she was trying to maintain some semblance of control
after the way he'd feasted on her neck, couldn't let the smirk go
unchallenged. "I think we're even at two kisses each."

Josh's pride wouldn't let him keep his mouth shut, "Even?  We're even?
 I think you'll have to concede that the second one puts me ahead of
the two kisses you gave me."

It was her turn to smirk, "Concede?  What, are we having a kissing war
or something?"

"Well, now that sounds intriguing," he replied. "The only problem with
your 'Kissing War,' and I personally see this as more of a side
benefit than an actual problem, is that you sort of win even if you
lose."

She knew the answer to the question before she asked it but she wanted
him to say it. "Oh, and how do you figure that?"

"Since no matter which end you came out on, there'd still be all the,
you know, kissing." He smirked. "I imagine that a war like that could
potentially go on for a long..." He kissed her mouth gently.
"Long...." Another kiss. "Loooonnng...." This kiss was deep and slow.
"Time," he said, finally surfacing.

Donna's mouth fairly tingled from all the attention. "A case could be
made that it could go on....forever."

He leaned in so his mouth hovered just above hers.  As he spoke, their
lips brushed against each other in the lightest of caresses. "Just so
you know. I never surrender and I take no prisoners," he said softly.

"I'm was counting on that, because neither do I," she replied.

"So I'm guessing that the 'Kissing War' is going to make the 'Hundred
Years War' pale by comparison."

"Josh?" Donna whispered a little breathlessly.

"Hmmm?"

"Shut up and kiss me already."

Josh smiled and pressed his lips to hers. It started as an exploration
and ended as an all out passionate assault on both their parts,
leaving both of them breathing hard. Between the early time of the
morning and all of the...stimulating volleys in the 'Kissing War,' it
also made a certain portion of Josh's anatomy that was currently
pressed into Donna's hip, begin to take notice.

Josh started to move away slightly, thoughts of the Mets batting
averages running through his head to try and control his hormones and
his anatomy, when Donna stopped him.

"It's okay, Josh," she told him. "Although at the moment it's probably
more a response to the current 'Kissing War' battle, this has happened
a couple of mornings since you've been sleeping under the covers with
me."

He looked a bit sheepish.  "I was hoping you hadn't noticed."

"It was kind of hard...." she chuckled, "No pun intended...not to
notice. Unless I miss my guess....I'd say that you're
pretty...generously endowed in that area."

Their discussion was making him vaguely mortified and turned on all at
once. He sighed, "And talking about it is not helping the situation."

She sobered a bit. "Don't be embarrassed. It's really okay, Josh. I
know sometimes they have mind of their own, especially in the morning.
And even if it is from the kissing, it doesn't bother me." She hugged
him closer. "In fact, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little glad
that after everything we've been through I can still have that affect
on you."

He hugged her back, glad that the early morning 'rise and shine'
hadn't made her feel uncomfortable. "Rest assured that you have no
problem having that kind of affect on me." She smiled at that.

He looked at her for a moment and thought maybe it would be a good
idea for both of them if they switched channels just a bit. "Since
there seems to be a lull in the 'Kissing War' battle right now, maybe
it would be a good time to talk about what happened yesterday?"

She looked up at him for a moment, "Yeah, I guess it would be a good idea."

He could sense her gathering her thoughts a bit and he had an idea.
"Hey, how about after we talk about this I take you out for breakfast?
 Anywhere you want."

Donna perked up at that. "Anywhere? Even...."

"Bistro Francais?" he guessed. She grinned and nodded. "Sure," he said
with a smile of his own. "But talking first, then breakfast."

She looked at him and nodded. Moving so she could sit up a bit, she
took a breath and tried to explain what happened yesterday.

"You know Josh, yesterday was a good day. CJ and I had a lot of fun. I
was feeling...normal again, just like any other woman doing some
Christmas shopping with a friend. I liked that feeling a lot." She
paused.  "Then Mike called to give me the news and suddenly, I was
back to feeling not normal."

"Donna..."

She needed to get this out and so she kept talking. "When he called
and told me that they'd caught the Strangler, it really seemed to
throw me and I didn't know why. I mean it really seemed to send me
into a tail spin. So I guess, just like that day out at the farm when
you found me out in the field, I hoped that I could work it out in my
head and since Harley needed to go out anyway, I....we just started
walking." She paused. "I didn't even realize that I'd switched the
phone off when I finished talking to Mike and I pretty much didn't
even realize it was raining until you showed up at the Jefferson
Memorial."

He took her hand. "Did you come to any conclusions while you were
walking or sitting on the bench by the Tidal Basin?" Josh asked her.

She nodded, "Yeah, but I'm not sure you're going to like some of them."

"Donna, it's not about me liking or disliking them."

"I know....I just....okay.  Well, first of all, it made me realize
that I haven't been dealing with the attack. I've been focusing on the
nightmares and then what happened in my childhood but not the attack
or my reaction to it."

"With your lack of memory of the attack, I can understand that," he replied.

"And then there's the fact that I guess part of me thought he'd never
be caught and until he was caught I didn't have to deal with it."

"Well, you're wrong there, but I can see why you'd think that," Josh
said. "At the risk of sounding like Stanley or Barbara, you would have
had to deal with it sooner or later."

"I realize that now," she replied. Then she took a breath.  "It scared
me, too, because now I know that don't have the luxury of remaining
dead. Since they caught the guy, it means that I've got to go public
with the fact that I'm, you know, alive, right away. And even though I
know that I need go public to reclaim my life and rid myself of Sydney
forever, it's a scary thing now that time is here."

"Yeah, I can understand that too," he said. "But remember, you've got
me and CJ and the entire White House behind you," he said, giving her
hand a squeeze. "We're not going to feed you to the press sharks or
leave you hanging in the wind or anything.  Plus, once Danny gets over
the shock of finding out you're alive and that he didn't realize you
were working right under his nose for almost three months, his
reporter's curiosity will kick in and he'll write a fair and balanced
story about what happened."

She nodded and then paused for a long moment and looked at him.
Talking it through with him was helping her define it for herself.
"This is the part you're not going to like, but....."  Taking a quick
breath, she spit it out, "I realized that a small part of me wished
he'd killed me that night. That's why I was sitting on that bench by
the Tidal Basin.  It kind of stunned me to know that."

Josh had to recover from shock of his own. "Donna...." he started to
say, but she stopped him.

She squeezed his hand, "No, let me finish. At first I thought maybe
someone had made a mistake and I was suppose to die that night. That
my being alive was a fluke or something. There was a time when I would
have thought that's how things worked in my life. But then I started
to think about what things would be like if I had died that night and
it made me remember something my grandmother said to me when I was
talking to her in my head after the thing."

Josh nodded mutely, waiting to hear where she was going with her thought.

"She said I had a purpose. At the time I thought she only meant when I
lived and my aunt and uncle died. But she also meant when I survived
the attack and when I survived Dr. Todd and my stint in the
psychiatric ward."  She smiled. "It also reminded me of some advice
you gave me once."

"Me?" he asked in surprise.

She nodded. "I'd asked you why I lived when Kelly Gibbs had died. You
said that it might be as simple as it not being my time to go and the
fact that I still had things to do with my life." She took a breath.
"And I thought about Harley and wondered where he'd be if I hadn't
been around to adopt him." Her eyes searched his face. "And I realized
that too many good things have happened to me since that summer in
Iowa and since the attack for my being here to be a mistake." She was
quiet for a moment, "Josh, I want you to know the vast majority of
those good things are because of you."

He didn't know what to say to her simple but powerful words. He laid
his hand on her cheek. "Ever since I found you standing in my office
in Manchester, you've been the source of most of the good things in my
life too."

She smiled at him, glad that he seemed to understand. "And then when
you brought me home and took care of me and pulled out the 'Rules' and
it was like a dam broke in me. See, I used the 'Rules' on you after
Rosslyn because I had no other way to show you how much I loved you.
Something about seeing you do the same for me released the last piece
of myself that I'd been holding back. Which is why there was all the
crying. I've probably had that part hidden since that summer I was 12.
It was pretty overwhelming."

"I can imagine," he replied softly.

Laying her head down on his chest, she listened to his heart beating
steadily under her. "So anyway, that's what happened yesterday."

He ran a hand gently through her hair.  "And how are you feeling about
things today?"

She didn't move, preferring instead to let the sound of his beating
heart center her. "I'm still kind of working on sorting out how I feel
about the attack and I'm still a little scared about going public."
Now she did look up at him. "But I know I'm not alone and that with
you by my side I can handle anything."

"We've got health and strength," he began.

"And we'll steal the rest?" she replied.

"You bet your ass," Josh said with a dimpled grin.

**********

Josh, Donna and Harley were just heading out the door to go to
breakfast when Josh's cell phone rang.  He answered it as they walked
down to the car.

It was CJ.  "Hey Josh, is Donna with you?"

"Why good morning to you too, Claudia Jean," Josh replied.

"Yeah, yeah. Look I haven't had my coffee yet and I'd like to talk to
Donna. So is she there or not?"

"If you say please I'll bring you something from where I'm taking
Donna for breakfast," he told her.

"Josh, a grand slam breakfast from Denny's is not quite what I'm
craving this morning."

"Okay then, I won't bring you anything from Bistro Francais."

"Bistro Francais? You're going to Bistro Francais?" she asked, her
tone now much more friendly.

"That's right," he said with a grin as he and Donna got into his car.
"Donna wanted to go there and I promised her she could pick the
place."

"Well, that's because Donna is a smart, brilliant woman that you are
completely unworthy of."

He glanced at Donna who was watching him curiously, her blonde hair
tucked up under his Mets baseball cap. "Don't I know it," he told CJ.

"So since you're taking her to breakfast, can I assume that you are
indeed actually WITH her right now?"

"Yes, CJ you can assume that," he said, knowing he was taking his life
in his hands by teasing CJ when she was in a mood but he was a mood of
his own that morning.  A great one, and he couldn't help but tease
her. He heard CJ sigh heavily.

"Then may I PLEASE talk to her and will you, for the love of Edward R.
Murrow, bring me a double non-fat latte from Bistro Francais?"

"Now see, was that so hard?" he commented.

"JOSH!"

"Okay, okay.  Yes, to both questions.  Here she is."  He handed the
phone to Donna.

"Hey, CJ," Donna greeted her.

"Hey, Donna.  Before we go any farther, Josh just promised me a double
non-fat latte from Bistro Francais. If you have any mercy in your soul
for me or if you'd like to see him keep on living, could you please
see to it that he follows through and brings me one?"

"Sure," Donna said with a chuckle. "I've gotten kind of attached to
him so I wouldn't want you to have any reason to do away with him."

"Bless you," CJ said in relief. "Now that we've gotten the important
stuff out of the way, I assume Mike Casper told you and Josh about
capturing the Strangler."

"Yeah, he called both of us last night," Donna told her.

"Well, I've been sitting here getting ready for my morning briefing.
After the FBI press conference last night, the press room is a buzz
with the Strangler story and I think we should go public with your
story....today."

"Today?" Donna said, her heart rate speeding up. "Why....why today?"

"Because, barring a national emergency, for the next couple of days
the news is going to be dominated by the Strangler. If we go public
right now I think at least some of the fallout from your resurrection
will be drowned out by the rest of the Strangler story.  If we wait
until things calm down to tell the press about you, then it will only
stir things up because like I said before it will look like we were
hiding something."

Donna paused for a second. "But we were hiding something, CJ," she
pointed out. "We were hiding ME."

"Yes, but we don't want them to know that. At least not in those terms."

Donna took a deep breath as Josh pulled the car over in front of the
restaurant and parked.  "Okay. But today?  It's a holiday weekend. I
mean is Danny even there?"

"Donna you've worked in the White House long enough to know that the
press never sleeps or takes a holiday when there's a story to be
written."

"Well, you have a point there," she replied and glanced at Josh with
slight distress in her eyes that made him frown.  "Okay, so when do
you want us there?"

"You've got a little time, we won't do it until after my morning
briefing.  Have breakfast and then come on over. Stash yourself in
Josh's office and call me or Carol when you're out of sight.  I'll
come over and get you when I've got things ready. Okay?"

Donna seemed to be having trouble making her mouth say the words.
"Oo.o..okay." She took a breath so her voice was more steady. "Well,
we're here at the restaurant, CJ, so I better hang up.  We'll see you
in a bit."

"Okay, I'll talk to you then."

Donna hung up the phone and handed it back to Josh, who was frowning.
"What's going on?" he asked her.

"CJ wants me to go public today," she said quietly. "The press is all
over the Strangler story and she thinks if we do it now, the impact of
my story might be at least partially swallowed up by it."

Josh thought for a moment.  "It's a good idea," he said gently. He
laid his hand on hers, "You can still say no if you want to.  We could
do it another time if you're not ready."

She stared out the window for a minute then turned back to him.  "No,
CJ's right.  We should do it now." She ran her hand over the front of
her jacket.  "Do I look okay for my debut?"

He didn't need to look at her jeans, turtleneck, and dark blue sweater
she was wearing to find his answer. He squeezed her hand, "You look
perfect."

She tried to smile but it didn't quite make it to her eyes. "Josh?
Could I ask a favor?"

"Anything," he replied.

"Could we take a rain check on breakfast? I afraid I'm a little
nervous now and my stomach's not feeling all that great. If I have
beignets, I want to be able to enjoy them."

"Sure, we can wait.  I tell you what, why don't save beignets for
breakfast tomorrow morning? That way all of this will be done and over
with." he said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

She smiled at him and this time it did reach her eyes. "I'd like
that." Then her smile became a grin. "But we better get CJ a double
non-fat latte before we go over there or you may not live to see
tomorrow."

**********

"So Donna, you ready to start working for Sam on Monday?" Josh asked
her.  They'd dropped Harley off at the kennel and were now sitting in
both visitor's chairs in his office as they waited for CJ. He was
hoping to distract her so she'd relax a bit.  He knew she was nervous
and a little scared but holding it together.

"Yeah, except that I don't think he's going to appreciate my filing
system quite like you do," she said with a slight grin.

"Well, I do have a unique appreciation for what you arguably call a
filing system," he teased.

"Hey, you're the only one who seems to have a problem finding
anything. My filing, like my handwriting, is perfectly normal."

He grinned at her.  "Do we really want to have the penmanship
discussion right now?"

She looked at him for a minute, "Well, I'd rather start a new battle
in the Kissing War.

But now doesn't seem to be best time to launch the first volley."

"Well, let's just call this a temporary truce. We can pick up where we
left off when we get back to your apartment," Josh told her with a
little smirk.

She laid her hand on his knee. "Josh, in case I haven't said it yet, I
may be excited about working with Sam I'm going to miss working with
you. A lot." She smiled. "But not as much as I'd miss the kissing if
we were still working together."

"Me too," he said, laying his hand over hers on his knee. As much as
he was going to miss having her sitting outside his office everyday,
what he was gaining in his relationship with her had become much more
valuable to him. Before he could say anything more, a knock sounded at
his office door. He got up to answer it. A moment later, he pulled it
open and CJ stepped inside. "You ready?"

Donna glanced from Josh to CJ and pulled the brim of her cap down a
bit.  "Yes." Standing up she walked over to them.

"I had the agents clear us a path to the Mural Room," CJ told them.

Donna nodded and they walked out of the office.  As they walked
through the bullpen, Josh silently took her hand.

CJ caught the gesture but made no comment other than a slightly raised eyebrow.

It felt both strange and amazing to walk through the halls of the
White House while she was holding Josh's hand. It was something that
she'd always wanted to do, but because of their positions and work
situation, she'd figured it would be all but impossible. It was made
that much more special by the fact that the White House was in the
process of being decorated for Christmas.  Everywhere she looked,
Donna saw lights and trees and decorations in various stages of
preparation. Christmas had always been her favorite time of year in
the White House. There was just something especially magical about all
the fuss that was made.

Stepping into the Mural Room, which had already been festively
decorated, CJ closed the door behind them and looked at her watch.
"Danny's going to be here in about 10 minutes," she said as they all
settled themselves on the two sofas in the center of the room. Josh
and Donna were on one and CJ was on the other. "He doesn't know why
except that I have some info for him concerning the Strangler case. I
thought what we'd do is have Donna stand in the corner...."

"No."

CJ looked at Josh as if he'd had too much eggnog or something.
"But...it's dark in the corner and the Christmas tree partially blocks
it so he won't see..."

"No." It was said without anger but with complete conviction.

"Why?" she demanded.

"Because she's not going to stand in the corner like a kid being
punished for talking out of turn in class," he told CJ. Then he turned
to Donna. "No more hiding."

Tears welled in Donna's eyes at his simple statement. She would have
just gone along with what CJ said.  Just like she'd initially gone
along with the idea of Sydney.  But Josh wasn't going to let her
settle anymore.  He wanted better for her.  Even if it was a small
thing like hiding in the corner.

Thinking quickly he came up with an alternate idea. "How about we turn
one of the wing chairs around so it faces the fireplace." He pulled
one of the antique wing chairs over by the fire place and turned it
around. "See? They're big enough that if she sits in it, I don't think
he'd be able to see her. When you're ready for her to appear she can
just stand up." He turned back to Donna. "Is that all right with you?"

Donna's heart swelled into her throat. He was asking her, but not
telling her. Somehow she managed to smile and nod. Then they both
turned and looked at CJ.

CJ looked between the two of them. She could see they were completely
serious. "Okay. I guess that will work fine."

Donna got up from the couch and moved to the chair and Josh moved to
stand by the mantel so he was facing her. "It's gonna be okay," he
told her.

She looked at him and in her heart knew he was right. "I know."

The three of them chatted for a few minutes until they were
interrupted by a knock at the door. CJ got up and went to answer it.
"Hey, Danny.  Come on in."

"Hey, CJ." The red haired reporter said as he walked into the room.
"So what's this all about?" he asked her as she closed the door behind
him. "I need to file my story on the Strangler but....hey, Josh," he
said, seeing him leaning against the fireplace mantle.

"Danny," CJ began. "We have something we need to go public with and
we'd like to leak it to you."

Danny was quiet for a minute. He knew from CJ's tone that she was very
serious. "Okay. When do you plan on leaking the information to me?"

"Right now," she replied. "But there are a few ground rules. You won't
list any White House sources in the story, named or unnamed."

Danny frowned, "There won't be much of a White House story if I can't
name my White House source, even if it's an unnamed source."

"There will be a source you can name, just not the White House," CJ
replied. "This is someone telling you their story because they know
you and because we trust you to do a fair and accurate job. You'll get
all White House related information with everyone at the briefing
tomorrow where I will be addressing the contents of your story."

"Okay, CJ, what the hell is this?" Danny demanded. "Could you please
stop talking in riddles? I mean I know this is the White House and you
guys excel at that, but this is going above and beyond."

"Danny," Josh said, quietly. "CJ's not trying to keep you in the dark.
It's just that the source for this story is someone very close to us
and we'd like to see her protected."

Josh's quiet statement told Danny a lot about the apparent seriousness
of what he was about to find out. "Okay." Danny looked at him for a
long moment. "So who is she?"

Josh opened his mouth to respond, but CJ cut him off. "You can name
your new source, Danny. You can use anything she says. But any
background that Josh or I give you during this meeting is not for
attribution."

"For how long?" he asked.

"Permanently," she replied.

Danny stared, wide-eyed. CJ had given him information in various
degrees of "off the record" before and he'd never burned her. He'd
never seen her quite this serious. "CJ, what the hell are you about to
tell me?"

"Say it, Danny."

Danny stared, mouth slightly agape, for a moment. He blinked and
swallowed hard. "How will the story carry any credibility at all if I
can't attribute the background source?"

"Because your named source is credible," CJ said evenly. "As credible
as they come."

Danny shook his head slowly. "I need some sort of guarantee that I'm not-"

"Danny, that's all I'm willing to give you. That'll have to do. You
get today as a head start. That's your only guarantee. Take it or
leave it."

Danny breathed out slowly and sat up straighter in his chair. "The
information I get from you and Josh is not for attribution."

CJ nodded confidently. "Good. Josh?"

"Your source is Donnatella Moss," Josh said.

It was like a silence bomb had gone off in the room. The reporter in
Danny recovered quickly. "You mean the story is about Donna's death?"

"In a manner of speaking," Josh said evenly.

Danny's brow furrowed. "Donna's the source?"

"Yes," CJ replied.

"How is that possible? She's been dead for months." He glanced at
Josh. "I'm sorry Josh, I know how much she meant to you." He looked
back at CJ. "To both of you." He paused. "But I...how is it possible
that Donna's the source?"

"It's possible Danny, because she's not dead," Josh replied.

Danny was getting a little tired of feeling like he'd started reading
a book in the middle. "What have the two of you been smoking?  I was
sitting in the press room when CJ announced Donna's death. I went to
her funeral. Hell, any number of people saw her funeral on national
TV. I watched Josh, Toby, Charlie, Ed, Larry and the Pierce kid
carrying her coffin."

"Her death was faked," CJ said quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"Danny, she survived the Strangler's attack and it was felt by the
FBI, the DC Police, and the Secret Service that if that information
was made known then her attacker might come back and finish the job,"
Josh tried to explain. "The only options were to put her in a safe
house until the Strangler was caught or fake her death and give her a
new identity. Option Number 2 was what everyone believed would work
best for Donna."

Danny couldn't believe his own ears. "So basically you all took part
in a massive conspiracy to mislead the American people," Danny
surmised, voice dripping with anger. "A conspiracy the scope of...God,
the scope of which I can't even imagine!"

"No, they all tried to keep me alive," Donna said as she stood up and
pulled off her cap. She knew she was supposed to wait until they gave
her the signal, but she couldn't listen to him berate them.

Another silence bomb exploded in the room.

Even though they'd told Danny she was alive,  seeing her standing
before him in living, breathing color was still a shock. "Donna?"

"Hey, Danny."

Danny turned to CJ, his facial expression now a cross between still
pissed and newly shell-shocked. "Did you hide away any of the other
victims? Are they all going to start coming out of the woodwork?"

Donna answered before Josh or CJ could. "No, Danny, they're all dead,"
she said quietly. "I was the only one that survived.  The police say
that's because I was his first victim and he was still refining his
technique."

His neurons were just beginning to fire again and Danny felt badly for
his semi-flippant question. "I...sorry, Donna." He exhaled again, very
slowly, and ran a hand over his face. He watched her for a moment.
blinking a few times as if he expected her to disappear. "Okay," he
said finally, and ran a hand through his hair. "Why, um...why don't we
take this from the top?"

Donna nodded and she moved to the couch.  Josh sat down next to her
and Danny and CJ sat on the other couch. Danny pulled out a small tape
recorder.  "Do you mind if I tape this?"

"No," Donna replied. Then, in a voice that sounded much stronger than
she felt, Donna laid out the story for him. "I don't remember much
about the attack. I had a concussion and the doctors think that I may
never remember. All I remember is the darkness and the feeling of cold
and the smell of cigarette smoke. My first real memory is waking up in
the ambulance on the way to the hospital."

"What were the extent of your injuries?" Danny asked gently.

"I had a dislocated elbow and a concussion." She took a breath. "Um,
my face was pretty battered up, I had a burn on my hip, and some
internal injuries from the...rape." She swallowed and didn't trust her
voice to continue. Up until then she'd been saying 'attack' and not
really seeing it as rape exactly.  Conceptually, she knew that she'd
been raped as part of the 'attack' but she didn't think that she'd
actually said the word. Didn't really stop to consider what it meant.

Josh sensed her distress and moved closer to her. He spoke softly
enough so only she could hear what he said. "You okay?" She shook her
head. "We can stop anytime you want."

"No, I just need a minute," she whispered to him. "I know this is
probably not the best time but will you hold me for that minute?"

Silently, he pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back. Looking over
her shoulder he spoke to Danny, "Give her just a minute."

"Sure," Danny said.

"Danny, I brought you a packet of information," CJ said, handing him a
plain manila envelope. "It includes a copy of her medical records
after the attack.  No pictures, just a written account."

"Okay. Thanks," he said, taking the envelope from her.

"I need to know how high up this goes," Danny told her. "Who knew?"

"Several people," CJ said. "You don't get a complete list for the
exclusive, but I'll release it at the briefing tomorrow."

"You drop a bomb like this conspiracy and-"

"NOT a conspiracy, Danny. This was protective custody. Donna was being
kept in a form a protective custody to ensure her safety until her
attacker could be apprehended and brought to trial. A procedure which
is not, like, unheard of, you know?"

Danny leaned toward CJ, trying to be conscious of Donna's
difficulties, but still boiling over anyway. "You faked her death,
CJ!" he whispered emphatically.

"The AUTHORITIES faked her death in order to ensure her safety.
Protective custody, Danny. Say it with me," CJ said.

Danny slumped in his chair. "I want to talk to those authorities."

"I've got Ron Butterfield and Mike Casper at the FBI expecting your call."

Danny nodded.

Donna sat back and wiped her eyes on the handkerchief that Josh pulled
out of his pocket and handed to her. "Sorry," she said to Danny.

"Don't be. You want to go on or do want to finish this later?" Danny asked her.

"No, I'm okay.  Let's go on," Donna replied. She continued to hold
Josh's hand to help steady her. "Um, let's see, oh, I also had some
damage to my vocal chords so I wasn't allowed to speak during the week
following the attack."

The sight of Donna holding Josh's hand did not go unnoticed by Danny.

"How long were you in the hospital?"

"A couple of days."

Danny nodded. "Where did you recuperate?"

Donna looked at CJ, who nodded. "In the Residence."

Danny's jaw dropped. "The White House Residence?"

"Yes, the President and Mrs. Bartlet have been very supportive of me
through this whole ordeal. Because of my concussion and my other
injuries, the doctors at the hospital would only release me to someone
that could give me some medical supervision."

"So Dr. Bartlet was that medical supervision?"

"Yes."

"And how long were you in the Residence?" he asked her.

"About a week," she explained. "Josh, CJ and Sam helped me find a new
apartment. With my new identity I couldn't go back to my old one and
didn't want to anyway."

"When was the idea of giving you a new identity brought up?"

Donna glanced at Josh and then back at Danny. "When I was in the
hospital. My attacker called Josh on my old cell phone, which he stole
from my apartment, and told him some information that led everyone to
think he believed he'd killed me.  The FBI, the DC police, and the
Secret Service, who were involved since I was a White House employee,
decided to let him go on thinking that. They felt like they had to
move quickly to make my death believable. The day they had my funeral,
was the day I was released from the hospital and transferred to the
Residence."

Danny leaned back in his chair again. "CJ...I want to talk to the President."

"Absolutely not," she said.

"He and the First Lady were involved in this cover-up and the people
deserve to-"

"You say cover-up like we were trying to hide something illegal," Josh
bit off angrily. "We weren't destroying the Watergate tapes, Danny.
Donna was beaten and strangled within a inch of her life, the killer
was on the loose, and the authorities recommended she be taken into
protective custody until he was caught. Her death was faked to mislead
the KILLER, not the American public. Unfortunately, it wasn't possible
to do one without doing the other."

"This was never gonna be permanent, Danny," CJ jumped in. "We've known
this day would come since the beginning. We just didn't think it would
take this long. The President and First Lady are going to issue a
statement after my official announcement tomorrow, but you don't get
an advance interview. They offered her a safe place to stay and
someone to keep a medical eye on her. They were Good Samaritans.
You're gonna have a hard time scandalizing that."

Seeing that he wasn't going to get to the President in advance, Danny
turned back to Donna. "How did you feel about the funeral and getting
a new identity?" he asked her.

"Well, it was pretty surreal, as you can imagine. I didn't actually
see the funeral.  Josh told me about it later. As for the new
identity, I didn't really want it but since everyone seemed to think
it was for the best and I was already dead, I figured it was the only
thing I could do. I didn't want to be locked away in a safe house
until they caught my attacker."

"How long were you in the Residence?"

"About a week," she replied.

"Where'd you go from there?"

"My new apartment and then about a week after that I went back to work."

"Wait, you mean you went to work, right? As in started a new job. When
you say 'back to work' you make it sound like you went back to your
old job here at the White House." He looked between Josh and CJ now.
"I know from personal experience that's not true."

Donna looked levelly at Danny.  "Remember all the temps that Josh went through?"

Danny eyed her suspiciously. "Yeah...."

"One of them was me in disguise."

Silence bombs were having a big day in the Mural Room.

"Who?" Danny asked, thinking quickly. He was still baffled. "Who?" he
asked again.

Donna switched to her Sydney voice, "You know it's not the bellowing I
mind so much. It's the fact that he can't get my name right." Josh
grinned at her words.

"Wait, where have I heard that....?" Danny tried to remember.

"Or how about this...." Donna tried again. "First days can often be
difficult. Mr. Lyman and I just have some work to do on building our
boss-assistant working dynamic. But I'm confident that we will be able
to work together efficiently in the end."

Danny frowned.  "Sydney?"  He looked at CJ who was smiling. He shook
his head vehemently. "Not possible. I...Donna, I had face-to-face
conversations with the woman. It would have taken plastic
surgery...and, like a month or two of you eating McDonald's six times
a day for you to even begin to...that's not..." he trailed off,
looking from CJ to Josh and back again, neither of whom denied it.

"You and Sydney were one and the same?" he finally asked in disbelief.

"Yep," Donna answered.

"But how? Sydney looked totally different than you do."

"I had some help from the US Marshall's office," Donna answered. "They
have specialists who help people change their appearance when they get
a new identity or while they're waiting to testify against someone
that might bring some kind of retaliation against them."

"WILL you be testifying against Richard Weaver?" he said, using the
newly discovered real name of the DC Strangler.

"No," Donna replied. "I don't have enough memory of the attack to make
a good witness."

"Then how can you justify-"

"They didn't know what she'd remember, Danny," CJ said. "The hope was
that her memory could have come back after her concussion had healed,
or with hypnotherapy, but that didn't happen. This was protective
custody, pure and simple."

"Nothing simple about it," Danny mumbled, rubbing his temple to soothe
the whopper headache that was already pounding behind his eyes.
Something occurred to him.  "So what happened to Sydney? I mean you?
You disappeared from the White House nearly a month and a half ago.
Where have you been?"

Donna looked at Josh who gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. She
turned back to Danny. "As you can imagine the attack has been very
traumatic. I developed an infection unrelated to the attack and so I
was admitted to George Washington Hospital." She took a breath and
tried to compose her next words carefully. "The doctors were concerned
about my emotional state when I was brought in and so they had me sent
to the psychiatric ward."

"What were their specific concerns?" Danny asked her.

"They were concerned about me being suicidal," she answered softly.

"Were you?"

She looked at him and when she spoke, her voice was clear and calm.
"No. I was not. I was depressed and I was still having some trouble
dealing with the attack, but I was not suicidal. You see, I had been
avoiding going to therapy to deal with what had happened. Being
admitted to the hospital was a wake-up call for me. I saw that I
needed some help."

"And did you get some?" Danny asked gently.

Donna glanced at Josh and turned back to Danny. "Yes.  Josh helped me
find someone to help me work it out.  Since we still needed a safe
place for me to stay while I worked on my therapy, the President and
Mrs. Bartlet volunteered their house in Manchester."

"And that's where Josh and Mrs. Bartlet were during November? With you
in Manchester?"

"Yes. Part of what I figured out in therapy was that hiding behind
Sydney was hurting me more than it was helping. That's why I decided
that as soon as the Strangler was caught and I'd be safe from him, I
wanted to go public with the fact that I was alive."

Danny nodded. "How do you feel about Richard Weaver? Is there anything
you'd like to say to him after all he's put you through?"

For some reason, Donna hadn't been expecting that question and it took
her a bit by surprise. She thought about it for a moment.  "To be
honest I haven't given him much thought and I don't plan to give him
any more in the future. I have nothing to say to him. What has
occupied my mind were the lives he destroyed. All the women he
tortured and killed."

Her next words seem to come from an unexplored well, deep inside her
and they made her sit up a bit straighter. "Mr. Weaver is an animal
that doesn't merit my time and I have nothing to say to him. The
justice system will see to it that the pays for what he's done.  From
what I've been told, the authorities have a vast pool of evidence to
use against him. I'm confident that he'll be locked away from society
for a long, long time."

Danny looked between her and Josh for a moment, an unspoken question
swimming in his eyes. "One last question. Will you be coming back to
work at the White House?

She squeezed Josh's hand before she answered. "It's been a hard
decision, but no, I'm not coming back to work at the White House. As
much as I appreciate the opportunities that working in the White House
with Josh and the President have given me and all the support that
I've been shown in the last few months, it's time for me to move on to
new things. But I have every intention of maintaining the close ties
to the friends I've made here during the last seven years."

Danny nodded. He wanted to asked Josh and Donna about the apparently
new phase of their relationship but decided that was better left
unsaid.  Instead, he snapped off the tape recorder.  "Well, Donna this
is going to be quite a story.  I'd like to thank you for letting me
tell it." He stood up. "And on a personal note, I'd like to just say,
I was never more glad to hear that the reports of a person's death
were greatly exaggerated."

**********

"Well, how do you think it went?" Donna finally asked Josh as they
entered her apartment a half hour later. She'd been quiet and
thoughtful on the ride home. Harley trotted off in search of a drink
of water.

"I agree with CJ.  I think it went really well," he told her as they
hung up their coats. "How are you feeling about it?"

Donna walked over and dropped down onto the couch. "Good, I guess.
It's really weird to spill your guts like that, especially when you
know that it's going to show up in the paper." She watched him as he
came over and sat down next to her on the couch. "But I'm glad I did
it."

He took her hand in his. "Have I mentioned how proud I was of you today?"

"I don't know if I deserve it or not."

Josh frowned.  "Of course you deserve it. What you did today and what
you said to Danny took a lot of courage."

She looked down at their hands. "I didn't feel particularly brave.
More like scared to death."

"Well, you know what they say about courage."

"No, what?" she asked.

"True courage is doing what you have to do despite being scared."

His words and his faith in her made her smile, "You know, you're
getting awfully good at that."

"What?"

"The supportive boyfriend thing." The moment the words were out of her
mouth she realized that she'd potentially opened a Pandora's Box. She
looked at him and tried to read his response. His expression was
unreadable and her heart started to beat quickly. "I'm sorry, Josh, I
didn't mean..."

His finger covered her lips. "Don't," he said, softly.  "Don't take it
back." There was a smile in his eyes now. "I like being the supportive
boyfriend." Then he sobered, "But only under one condition." He pulled
his finger away from her lips so she could answer.

"What's that?" she asked him.

"That you'll be my long-suffering girlfriend."

She smiled, "Long-suffering?"

"Yes, the long-suffering part will be in response to the fact that
I'll probably say the wrong thing or stick my foot in my supportive
boyfriend mouth at least once a week."

"Really?  You think you'll do it once a week?" she replied. "I was
thinking more like once a day," she teased.

"See, it's comments like that one that will set off a new volley in
the 'Kissing War.'" He pounced on her then, tickling her almost more
than he was kissing her.  Donna squealed and laughed between his
kisses. "Say you'll be my long-suffering girlfriend," he told her.

"I will, I will, I will," she replied breathlessly.

"You'll what?  You need to be specific," Josh said and his fingers
danced along her sweater-covered ribs.

"I'll be your long-suffering girlfriend," she finally managed to yell.

His hands stilled and rested at her waist. "Now was that so hard?"

The 'battle' had caused them to stretch out on the couch and they were
all but tangled around each other. Both of them were breathing hard
from the exertion. Josh was partially above Donna and he looked down
at her. Her hair was tousled and a few pieces of it trailed wildly
across her face.  Reaching up, he gently brushed each piece away and
then laid his hand on her cheek.  "Have I mentioned that in addition
to long-suffering, you're beautiful as well?"

She put her hand over his, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  I'm
beautiful because you've made me beautiful, Josh. Inside and out."

Leaning in, he brought their lips together. Donna felt the heat go
through her body, settling low in her belly, and she reveled in the
partial weight of his body over hers. Kissing Josh like this made her
feel powerful and weak all at the same time. Triumphant and humble.
Like she was cherishing him as he cherished her.

Josh reluctantly pulled back and looked at her.  She looked well
loved. Her hair was mussed and her mouth was slightly swollen from his
kisses. She quite literally took his breath away. "I'm about the
luckiest boyfriend ever," he said.  "Now that you've told Danny
everything, how would you like to go out to dinner? No disguise.  No
sitting in a dark booth in the back.  We can sit in the front window
of any place you'd like."

She looked up at him and smiled.  "I'd like that, but can we do it
some other time?  I'm kind of comfortable right now. What I'd really
like is just to lie here on this couch with you and watch TV just like
any regular, normal couple."

"That sounds perfect. Although I doubt we will ever be regular and
normal, I like the way you think." They both grinned at that. "Why
don't we save dinner for after your first day working with Sam," he
suggested. "Okay?"

"You got a deal," she told him.

He reached over and picked up the remote from the coffee table and
handed it to her.  "I'll even let you pick what we watch, just don't
make it anything on the Lifetime Channel please."

Donna grinned. "No promises," she teased. Flipping on the TV, she
turned to ESPN as a concession to Josh, and the two of them snuggled
into the couch, more interested in each other than what was on the
screen.

To Be Continued......



Chapter 38 - MATURE



And so life for a publicly resurrected Donna began. While it only took
the press about a day to figure out where she was living, they didn't
harass her too badly. Mostly they stuck to taking her picture and
asking a few shouted questions. Danny's article had apparently gone a
long way toward satisfying their curiosity.

It helped that her apartment building had secured underground parking.
Since Donna hadn't had access to her car in the last few months, they
hadn't taken advantage of it up until then. But it turned out to be
very handy after the press showed up. Josh, since he was still staying
with her, started parking in her space down there. Then either he or
Sam, who also had the passcode to get into the garage, would take her
and Harley to work at Sam's office or anywhere she wanted to go.
Because there was also a private rear pedestrian entrance out of the
garage, she and Josh could go out that way to walk Harley.

As for working for Sam, Donna loved it. She and Sam got along famously
and she was learning some new quasi-paralegal skills. The icing on the
cake was the fact that Josh spent every free moment over at Sam's
office with his two best friends. They kind of became a variation of
the Three Musketeers. Luckily, the press hadn't made the connection
between Donna and her working in Sam's office.  Sam had set her up in
the other, smaller office across the hall from his. Josh noted the
fact that her 'smaller' office was, in fact, bigger than his. It had
only taken her a couple of days to make a big dent in getting Sam's
files and the office into shape.

But even the press only stayed interested in Donna for about a week.
The turning point for them moving on was when Richard Weaver was
arraigned. He was being charged with nine counts of aggravated rape
and torture. The torture charges were in response to the cigarette
burns and the beatings of each victim. Those charges were followed by
eight counts of murder with special circumstances and one count of
attempted murder for Donna's attack. It was the first real chance for
the press to see the 'DC Strangler' up close. He was the man, the
monster, that had held the city in a grip of fear for almost six
months and the press couldn't get enough of him.  Donna, much to her
relief, had become yesterday's news at that point. Even though CJ had
originally proposed the TV interview with Diane Mathers as a follow-up
to Danny's print piece, she now felt that Donna didn't need to do it
unless she wanted to. It had taken Donna about two seconds to decide
she didn't want to do it. Consequently, much to Donna's enormous
relief, there was no TV interview.

Richard Weaver had turned out to be kind of an oddity. On the surface
he was the very picture of non-descript. It was easy to see why no one
had seen him lurking around any of the crime scenes. He was tall, but
not overly so.  He was lean, but not gaunt or gangly. He was caucasian
and appeared non-threatening. But when you took the time to look at
him, really look, he had an eerie kind of unleashed power about him.
Even though the FBI and the DC police were keeping a tight reign on
the details they had on him and the murders, the press managed to put
together a number of details on their own.

He was, or had been, working as supermarket grocery clerk. He'd been
working part time at a store in Adams Morgan, where he also lived, and
part time at another one in Foggy Bottom. Hence, the press speculated,
the reason that the murders had been clustered in those two areas.
The 26-year-old Weaver had no criminal record and had never received
so much as a parking ticket.  On the surface, he seemed to be just
another average guy, but when the press searched a little deeper, they
uncovered some disturbing things.

His sister, Patricia Weaver, who was also blonde and within the same
age range as all the victims, had mysteriously disappeared about a
year before Donna's attack. She and Richard had run away from an
allegedly abusive mother in Philadelphia when Richard was 12 and she
was 14. They had apparently been on their own ever since. The press
was still working on digging up dirt and details but so far that was
about all they had.

During the week after Danny broke her story, Donna, now that she
didn't have to hide the fact that she was alive and she loved Josh,
had thrown herself into life and was doing her best to reclaim hers.
In addition to working with Sam, she was starting the 'art therapy'
that Barbara had suggested and was scheduled to attend one session a
week. She'd also signed up to take a self-defense class and joined a
gym near her apartment that offered kickboxing classes. Her sessions
with Barbara would also continue once a week.  She often joked to Josh
that she was almost busier now than when she'd been working with him
at the White House. He joked back that he'd better be careful about
making her mad or she'd clean his clock.  To Donna, the best part
about her life now was that even though she didn't work for Josh, he
was still there. At her apartment. At home. Either waiting for her to
get home or waiting to get home to her.

Which was why Josh was now leaning against the doorframe on Friday
evening, quietly watching her. She was just finishing up her first art
therapy session. They had apparently decided to start with clay
because Donna was sitting on a low stool, leaning over a spinning
pottery wheel and working on what looked like a small and slightly
wobbly bowl. Josh didn't want to disturb her so he remained silent.
Not that it probably mattered. She was so absorbed in what she was
doing, he probably could have jumped up and down, screaming at the top
of his lungs and she still wouldn't have noticed.  Although there were
a number of other pottery wheels in the room, hers was the only one
that was occupied. Josh didn't see the instructor or therapist or
whatever they were called. The soft hum of the spinning wheel and the
occasional, wet sound of her hands moving over the clay were the only
sounds in the room. As the bowl slid through her hands, she was biting
her lip slightly in concentration. He made a mental note to kiss that
spot later to make up for the biting.

It had been no small feat getting into the area where she was working.
Because the facility where her art therapy sessions were held had
students that ran the gamut from children and adults with emotional,
developmental and physical difficulties, to battered women and victims
of violent crimes like Donna, it was meant to be a place of safety, so
there was a  high level of security. Even the parking lot was gated
and entering it required that you had a student pass, or if you were a
visitor or a caregiver, you had to have your name on an approved list
and you had to show a picture ID. Josh, Sam, and Barbara were all on
the list of Donna's approved visitors. The security inside the
building was equally high and the process of identification had to be
repeated to be allowed into the classroom areas.

Donna stared down at the bowl, trying to will it to cooperate. The
instructor/therapist, Pamela Faye, had told her that it wasn't so much
the finished piece that counted in the exercise but the process.
Working with the clay on the wheel was supposed to develop patience,
problem solving and relaxation. It was also a little like playing in
the mud which Donna found surprisingly fun. Pamela had also pointed
out that it often took professional potters years to become
accomplished at their craft and so Donna shouldn't get frustrated on
her first day. But despite that, Donna was determined to have at least
one thing she could show for the two hours she'd been there. Her two
earlier attempts were now smashed into the small pile of clay sitting
by the wheel.

Although it was still slightly lopsided, she finally reached a point
where something told her that if she touched the small bowl anymore
she'd wreck it completely.  Pulling her hands slowly away like Pamela
had shown her, Donna sat back. Pressing back on the foot pedal, the
wheel slowed to a stop and she flipped off the power switch.  Actually
the bowl didn't look quite so bad when it wasn't spinning. With a
little smile, she picked up a thin piece of wire and used it to cut
bottom of the bowl loose from the wheel. Then she carefully, this was
where she'd wrecked the last piece, used small metal lifters, kind of
like clay spatulas, to slowly and gently lift the piece off the wheel
and put it down on a small, plastic covered, wooden board sitting on
the wheel next to her. As she pulled the lifters away and the piece
didn't slip or collapse or distort, she smiled proudly.

Josh smiled and cleared his throat to let her know he was there. She
turned and smiled. "Josh!  What are you doing here?" Standing up she
automatically moved to hug him but as she reached for him she stopped
and pulled back when she realized that her hands, her forearms, and
the entire front of the apron she was wearing were covering in
smatterings of muddy clay. "Sorry, let me clean up and...."

Josh reached out and pulled her playfully against him, "I don't mind a
little clay," he said with a dimpled grin. She had a smudge of dried
clay on her cheek and he thought it was about the most adorable thing
he'd ever seen. Laying his hand on her cheek, he used his thumb to
brush it away. "What I do mind is going one more minute without
getting to kiss that lip you were chewing on." Leaning in, he captured
her lips in his and put his arms around her waist.

Forgetting the clay and anything else but the feeling of Josh kissing
her, Donna put her arms around his shoulders and leaned into him and
the kiss. Josh and Donna had quickly discovered that kissing each
other was highly addictive. She trembled slightly as Josh ran his
tongue over the area of her bottom lip she'd been chewing on and then
began nibbling gently on it. Kissing him like this made her legs as
weak as water and she held onto him for balance and, you know, so she
didn't slide into a puddle at his feet.

Someone cleared their throat behind Josh, "Um...excuse me."

Their mouths pulled apart but their bodies remained locked in the
embrace as their heads turned to see who was speaking. It was Donna's
instructor/therapist. She looked like a pixie for all intents and
purposes.  She was a thin, petite woman and Donna would have been
surprised if she was tall enough to break the 5 foot mark. Her hair
was short and a fiery red and her eyes were vibrant green, but her
disposition was kind and extraordinarily patient. She also seemed to
know a hell of a lot about art.

"Oh, hi Pamela.  Josh, this is Doctor Pamela Faye, my art therapy
instructor." She let go of Josh and took a step back but she kept her
arm around his waist, "Pamela, this is Josh Lyman my...." she looked
at him for just a moment. "My boyfriend." She still wasn't quite used
to saying those words so casually.  Besides being new, they were
very...important and she didn't take the phrase lightly.

"It's good to meet you Josh," Pamela replied.

Josh smiled broadly.  He loved when Donna called him her boyfriend,
which kind of surprised him, as he'd never really been called it by
anyone before and had always thought he would have found it a little
annoying and high school-ish if someone had. But with Donna that
didn't seem to be the case.  He found it to be more like a badge of
honor. Reaching out, he shook Pamela's hand. "The pleasure's mine."

Pamela glanced down at the piece Donna had finished, "Hey, look at
that. You finished it." She looked back up at Donna with a smile.
"Sometimes it takes people a couple of sessions before they can finish
a piece."

Donna smiled a bit shyly. "Well, it was supposed to be a mug. Someone
I know likes coffee..." She glanced at Josh and then back to Pamela.
"And so I was making it for him but it just never got tall or big
enough to be a mug."

"It's still great," Josh told her, pleased that she'd tried to make
something for him. Warmth shot through him as Donna smiled gratefully.

"I agree," Pamela said, with a smile. "But in any case, like I told
you when we started, it's not the finished piece that counts so much
in the exercise but the process and what it can teach you."

"Right," Donna replied.

"Well, did you like working with clay?" Pamela asked.

"Yes, I kind of liked the playing in the mud aspect of it," Donna
said, holding up her hand. She wiggled her messy hands fingers to
illustrate how dirty she'd gotten.

"Pottery is definitely not a clean and tidy art form," Pamela replied.
"Not during the creation part of it anyway. Well, I thought maybe we'd
try clay sculpture next week. How's that sound?"

"Great."

"Well, if you're all done, why don't you get your work area cleaned up
and I'll see you next week?"

"Okay. Thanks for everything, Pamela," Donna replied.

"You're welcome. Would you like me to take your piece to the drying room?"

"Oh, would you?" Donna replied. "That would help so much."

"Sure," she said, picking up the piece. "I'll be in my office if you
need anything else. Otherwise I'll see you next week." She turned to
Josh.  "It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Lyman."

"Good to meet you too," he said.  With a nod, Pamela walked away and
disappeared around a corner.

"Well, look at you," he said. "My long-suffering girlfriend, the artist."

Donna grinned. "Well, now I don't think I would go that far, but
thanks." She gave his waist a little squeeze, "Now, why did you pick
me up tonight instead of Sam?  I thought you had a meeting on the
Hill."

He looked at her for a second.  Her hair was up in a loose, lopsided
ponytail. She looked disheveled and beautiful and happy. "It got
canceled.  So I told Sam I'd pick you up myself.  In fact, I was
hoping I could talk you into going to dinner with me. I made
reservations and everything."

"You?  Reservations?" she teased.

"Yes. 'Cause I actually know how to dial a phone and you know, speak
into it," he teased back.

She grinned, "Since you've become so technologically savvy, I'd love
to....oh, wait," she paused, looking down at herself.  "I'm a mess. Do
we have time for me to go home and shower and change?"

"Well, I figured you'd want to change first." Josh glanced at his
watch, "It's 5 now and I made reservations for 7:30. So yeah, I'd say
you have enough time."

She smiled, "Great. Oh, where's Harley?" She'd left Harley at the
office with Sam. Sam had been planning to bring Harley with him when
he came to pick her up.

"I talked to Sam and he agreed to look after him until we get done
with dinner.  We can swing by Sam's place on the way home and pick him
up."

"You've thought of everything, haven't you?" she said with a grin.

"You know, for someone who's getting dinner out of the deal, you might
want to watch all the snarky comments about my ability to arrange an
evening out," he said with a grin.

"Old habits die hard, Josh," she grinned back. "Besides, don't you
know you're supposed to be helpless without me?"

"I don't like to think of it as helpless without you, so much as
completely lost without you," he said.

Although she thought his comment was really sweet she couldn't help
but tease him. "Now you're just sucking up."

"Isn't that what boyfriends do?" he grinned.

"Just the good ones," she replied.

"Now who's sucking up?"

"Your girlfriend. Isn't that what girlfriends do?"

"Only the amazing ones," Josh replied.

They looked at each other with quiet smiles for a moment, "You know if
Toby were here right now he'd probably be making some crack about
needing to see his dentist because of the cavity we just gave him from
being so sweet," Donna told him.

Josh's mouth moved slowly toward hers, "Well, then thank God he isn't
here or I couldn't do this." He leaned in the rest of the way until
their lips met. The kiss was simple and tender, needing no explanation
or definition. It was what it was. A kiss to seal a moment between
them.

When they parted, Donna took a steadying breath.  His kisses always
made her insides spin around. "Well, let me just get things cleaned up
and we can go."

"Would you like some help?"

"I don't want you to get messy or anything."

He looked down at his jacket, white dress shirt and brown tie, all of
which had smudges of clay from her apron on them. The front of his
wool coat had apparently escaped unsullied but he imagined if he
looked on the back he would find two muddy hand prints. "Yeah, I think
the ship has sailed on that one." He smiled.  "I was going to change
before dinner anyway."

She smiled, "Okay, well the quicker I clean up, the quicker we can
leave, so let's get started."

Dropping all her tools into her already muddy bucket of water, she
carried the bucket over to the sink. "How about if I wash and you
dry?" she said with a grin as she handed him a towel.

It struck him for a moment just how...domestic the moment felt.  As if
they were an old married couple doing the dishes. It wasn't exciting
or especially romantic, but it was something he wouldn't mind doing
with her for the next 50 or 60 years simply because they were doing it
together. He took the towel from her.  "Works for me."

**********

With the two of them working together, clean up at the studio had been
a snap and after making a stop at Donna's apartment, where Donna took
a quick shower and Josh changed his clothes, they were on their way to
the restaurant.

"So where are we going?" Donna asked him.  She had worn jeans and a
sweatshirt to her art therapy session but for dinner she'd changed
into a pair of soft, dove gray wool pants, a pale pink cashmere
sweater and her long ivory wool coat. Luckily she'd managed to keep
the clay out of her hair, so she hadn't had to wash it. Instead she'd
brushed it until is shined and was wearing it loose over her shoulders
the way she knew Josh liked.

"Somewhere new I read about near Dupont Circle called 'I Ricchi.'"

"Oh, I saw the write up in The Post about it. They said it was one of
the best restaurants in DC.  It specializes in Tuscan Italian cooking.
 Good choice, Josh." It was also outside of the usual haunts for the
government politicos so they were less likely to be interrupted.

He grinned.  "I thought you might like it."

Donna glanced out the window as they drove through the city.
Everywhere she looked things were decorated for the holidays. Even the
monuments seemed to sparkle a little bit more as if they knew they
were competing with the armies of white Christmas lights that many
people and businesses were using in their holiday decorating. As
usual, because of their sheer scope and grandeur, the monuments won
easily.

For some reason, her mind drifted back to Christmases when she was
young. They'd been full of food and family and frantic activity.
Usually they'd be driving to this house or that and it would have been
spent with people she didn't really know or didn't really want to be
with. There weren't many other children in her extended family when
she'd been growing up so even the pickings for playmates at the
holiday gatherings had been slim. Due largely to the fact that they'd
often been strapped for money, her parents had also been big believers
in not spoiling Donna and so her gifts usually leaned toward the
practical. Clothes or shoes or books. From an early age, she knew
there was no such thing as Santa Claus. It all added up to the fact
that she'd never enjoyed the holidays much.

The only bright spot had been her grandparents. When they'd been
alive, one of them would always spend some time with her, even if it
was just watching it snow or looking at the lights on a Christmas
tree. And the presents from them, while few in number to honor her
parents wishes, had always been interesting and fun.  She'd gotten her
first bike and her first pair of roller skates from them. But, she
remembered, what she'd wished for the most at Christmas was that she
and her parents and grandparents could, just once, have stayed home
and enjoyed a quiet Christmas together. That would have been the best
present she could have asked for.

After her grandparents had died, there had been even less for her to
get excited about during the holidays. Her mother had always been a
firm believer that the holidays were not about staying home and
spending time with your immediate family - because after all, you
could do that any time of the year - but about paying your respects
and being sociable and making the family rounds. It was even more
pronounced after her grandparents were gone. So, even if it meant that
they had to go to three different gatherings on Christmas Day, that's
what they did. 'You have to fulfill your obligations,' she would say.
Then, inevitably, there was the trip home afterward. After her father,
whether it had been in the form of eggnog, alcoholic punch or just
plain beer, had partaken in just a little too much 'holiday cheer,'
they'd get in the car and he would drive them home. Looking back now,
Donna, who'd often done her best to quietly blend into the backseat
during those drives, marveled at the fact they'd made it home in one
piece with him behind the wheel.

But as she refocused on the city as it rushed by a small smile formed
on her mouth.  By contrast, she loved Christmas in DC. Even if she'd
been working, she loved seeing the White House and the city wearing
its holiday colors. She loved spending time with Josh and CJ and Sam
and Toby. She had fun buying presents for people and she loved the
fact that except for the Christmas after he was shot, Josh, who under
normal circumstances didn't know where to buy a loaf of bread, had
always gotten her something special 'No,' she amended.  'Even that
Christmas, the one when he'd been diagnosed with PTSD, he gave her
something special.' He'd stayed alive and he'd gotten better. That was
the best present she'd ever gotten.

Her mother always complained that she never came home for the holidays
since she moved to Washington and Donna had always used the excuse
that she was needed there and that running the country was difficult
and demanding. While that was partially true, the real truth was that
she loved spending Christmas in the way SHE wanted to.  Not in the way
she was expected to.

Josh noticed how quiet she'd gotten and hoped nothing was wrong as he
pulled up to the curb in front of the restaurant and parked the car.
"Hey," he said quietly.  She turned to him and he saw a single tear
run down her cheek. He raised his hand to cup her face and he smoothed
away the tear with his thumb. "What's wrong?" he asked softly. "If
you're not up for dinner we can do it a different time."

"No, I'm looking forward to dinner. I was just admiring the lights,"
she said with a little sniff. "And thinking back to Christmases past."
Taking his hand from her cheek, she pulled it into her lap and held it
in both of hers. She shrugged and tried to smile. "Just a moment of
the holiday blues, I guess."

He looked at her for a minute. Because of his Jewish background
Christmas had never been a big holiday for him but he wanted it to be
special for her and even though he already had very specific plans of
what he was going to get her, he thought it couldn't hurt to do a
little fishing while he was at it. Plus he hoped it would brighten her
spirits. "Donna?  What was your favorite Christmas?"

She looked at him and said, without hesitation, "Every one since I met you."

Tears welled in his eyes now and he squeezed her hand. There were
times when she, quite simply, humbled him beyond all measure. "Even
the one that we spent in the emergency room?" he said, with a smile.

"Maybe that one most of all."

"Why?" he asked with a frown.

She turned his hand over in hers. The old scar on his palm was just
visible in the light from the restaurant that was coming in through
the window. Gently, she traced the scar with her finger. "Because I
was scared. Scared that you wouldn't make it to another Christmas. I
like to think of that as the day that Stanley stitched up your soul
and the doctor in the ER stitched up your hand so both of them could
start to heal." She looked up at him. "Because that Christmas saved
you and if it hadn't happened you probably wouldn't be here with me
now."

Josh let out a slow breath, "Donna, you were the one who saved me that
Christmas. Leo told me you were the one who guessed what was happening
to me. You were my guardian angel."

She looked at him, tears shimmering in her eyes, "Well, you've been
mine for the last few months so I guess we're even." She leaned
forward so her lips were near his. "Thank you," she whispered. Leaning
in the rest of the way she pressed her lips to his hungrily. One of
her hands slid up to his neck as her other one continued to hold his
hand. Devouring his mouth she darted the tip of her tongue along his
bottom lip, urging his mouth open. Not needing much convincing, he
opened it under her tender assault. She tasted him, the subtle, earthy
taste of him mixed with the slight tanginess of the toothpaste he'd
used before they'd left the apartment. She was dimly aware of his free
hand tangled in her hair, his fingers playing over her scalp. Heat and
need rose in her like a tingling fire and spread through her body
until it settled, heavy and deep, in her center where it seemed to
build and wait for release. A release her body was crying out for but
her mind was still unsure of. Her mind won and she reluctantly wrapped
up the kiss and sat back.

For a moment, the only sound in the car was their labored breathing.
Josh watched her, "Wow. You're welcome." He paused. "That was...wow."

Donna's breath wasn't quite under control so her words came out a bit
breathlessly. "Well, you'd won the last three Kissing War volleys so I
had to go on the offensive," she said with a little smile, trying to
give them a moment to both settle back down.

He smiled back at her, "Well, you definitely hit your mark." He let
out one long breath. "Now, since we've both been fighting hard on the
battlefield are you ready for some dinner?"

Her smiled turned into a grin, "Absolutely."

**********

"Josh, did you like Hanukkah? When you were growing up, I mean," Donna
asked as the waiter took away the remnants of her salad and Josh's
soup. Sitting adjacent to each other at the small table, they were
settled into a quiet corner of the restaurant, facing a small
fireplace that had a warm fire burning in it.

He took a sip of his wine. "Yes.  Although it was better before Joanie
died," he said. It had always been hard to talk about Joanie to
anyone, but with Donna it seemed almost natural to talk about her now.
Donna's hand moved to cover his where it rested on the table. He
turned his hand in hers so they were clasped together. "When she was
still alive, I remember my mom going all out. She'd make latkes at
least three or four nights and we'd always get the little gold-foil
wrapped coins."

"Gelt?" Donna said.

"Right," he replied. He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand
almost unconsciously as he remembered. "Joanie would try to teach me
how to spin the dreidel but I was about as uncoordinated then as I am
now so it took me forever to get the hang of it. We'd go to temple and
like any brother and sister, we'd argue about who got the best present
on a given night." He paused, his expression far away. "I remember
sitting on my dad's lap and listening to him say the blessing and the
prayer. Joanie and I would take turns each night on who got to light
the candle on the menorah."

"The thing I remember most was her singing," he said quietly, almost
reverently. "She had a beautiful voice. She wanted to be a conductor
and not a singer but her voice was so clear...." he trailed off. After
a moment, he looked at Donna.  "About the only time I ever heard her
actually sing was during Hanukkah."

She squeezed his hand. "What about after she died?"

"It was different.  I think Hanukkah just got too hard for my parents
after Joanie died. It was too big of a reminder that she was gone.
They'd still get me little gifts for each night, but we started going
to someone else's house for the latkes and the menorah. I'm pretty
sure that once I went away to school and usually couldn't be home for
Hanukkah they stopped celebrating it altogether."

Donna held his hand and thought about some of the parallels to the
memories of their respective holidays.  Both of their holidays had
been tainted to one degree or another. Life and fate had apparently
conspired to rob them of good memories of those times. Well, Donna
thought, she planned to see what she could do about changing that for
Josh when Hanukkah started next week. She'd managed to give him a
present for each night of Hanukkah the first year they'd known each
other. No mean feat, given the fact that they'd been campaigning and
having time to shop had been all but non-existent, not to mention the
lack of the money to actually spend. She seemed to remember getting
him elaborate and expensive gifts like a Snickers Bar, a cup of
Starbucks coffee, a hamburger from Burger King, a new leather band for
the watch he had then, a bagel, a box of Kleenex tissues for the cold
he'd been fighting off, and a new pair of black dress socks since he'd
worn a hole in the pair he'd brought along on the campaign trail. But
the one thing she splurged on, a new scarf, was something she knew he
still had and wore on occasion.

Then, the next year was the Christmas after the President had been
elected and although they weren't yet physically in the White House,
Josh told her that she couldn't buy him anymore presents because it
wouldn't look right now that they were government employees. She'd
talked him into letting her get him one gift a year for Hanukkah and
one for his birthday, but he'd added the added stipulation that each
of them would be under $10. Funny how, over the years, he'd followed
the 1 gift rule for her for Christmas and her birthday, but not the
$10 part. None of the gifts he'd given her over the years had been
under $10. Well, she didn't work for him anymore and Sam was actually
paying her quite a bit more than her government salary had been, so
this year, she was going to see to it that Hanukkah was special for
him. She made a mental note to call his mother in the morning and see
if she still had her recipe for latkes.

"I'm sorry if I brought up a sore subject, Josh."

He looked at her for a moment, a hint of a smile eventually breaking
through his wistful and serious expression. "You didn't," he said.
"It's just that it's been a long time since I've thought about it and
I never talked about it. To anyone." He squeezed her hand. "But it
feels good to talk to you about it." He paused. "You know, Donna we've
spent the last seven years not saying things to each other and now
that you don't work for me anymore, I'd like to officially put a stop
to that. So from now on, any subject is open for discussion. Okay?"

She smiled and squeezed his hand back. "Okay."

It was just about that time that the waiter appeared with their
entrees. Donna was having "Costolette D'Agnello A Scottadito" which
was grilled lamp chops marinated in lemon and rosemary.  Josh was
having "Costata di Manzo al Forno" which was Prime Rib of Black Angus
Beef, prepared Tuscan style with fresh herbs and olive oil, and, in
his case, VERY well done.

They chatted easily as they ate, mostly about what had happened at the
White House that day.  Even though Donna didn't work there anymore,
she was still hungry for news of what was going on. That was partially
because it was such a part of who Josh was and partially because it
was part of who she was, too.  They also talked about Sam and the fact
that his law practice seemed be taking off. He'd already been helping
out Toby with some speech writing, but now he had his first solid D.C.
client, Senator Andrew Fowler. Already familiar with Sam from his days
at the White House, the Democratic Senator from Ohio had even put Sam
on retainer. Senator Fowler was on the Senate Judiciary Committee and
he wanted Sam's help with background work on a number of issues
relating to cases coming up before the committee. Fowler could have
used the Congressional in-house council but he wanted a perspective
from outside the Hill who still knew D.C. politics, including the
White House, inside and out. It would mean more work for Donna, too,
as Sam knew very well what a whiz she was with research. There were
also 3 other clients, all from varying D.C. backgrounds, who had also
expressed an interest in possibly retaining his services.

Sam, of course, was beside himself to be back in D.C. on his own terms
and doing well. He'd commented to Donna yesterday that while he'd
enjoyed his time in the White House and was fall-on-his-knees thankful
for the opportunities he'd been given there, it was nice not to be in
such a political spotlight and yet still in the thick of what was
going on in D.C.  She knew exactly what he meant. And tonight only put
an emphasis on that point for her. If she'd still been working at the
White House it was doubtful she'd be sitting here with Josh having
dinner.

Josh leaned back in his chair as the waiter took their dinner plates
away. "How was the lamb?" he asked her.

"Delicious," she said taking a sip of her wine. "Was the beef well
done enough for you?"

"Positively charred." He smiled.  "Actually, it was terrific. We'll
have to keep this place in mind next time we want to have a group
outing.  I know CJ, Toby and Sam would like it too."

"Good idea," she replied, as the waiter set their desserts in front of
them. Donna was having "Biscottini E Cantucci Col Vin Santo" which was
basically assorted Tuscan cookies served with sweet dipping wine and
Josh was having "Gelati Alle Creme" or  Italian ice cream, in this
case, espresso flavored.

Josh took a bite of his ice cream and savored the rich flavor of it.
He mentally sighed. He'd put off the discussion he wanted to have with
her long enough, it was time to bring it up. They'd had such a
wonderful evening, he hoped he wasn't about to spoil it.  He saw it as
a good thing and he hoped she did, too.

"Josh?" Donna said, interrupting his brain's attempt at getting him to
spit out what he had to say.

"Hmmm?" he said, surprised by her timing.

"You've been a little preoccupied for the last few minutes.  Is
anything wrong? Anything you want to talk about?"

He blinked and looked at her, "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" she asked innocently, although she was pretty sure he was
going to say something about mind reading.

"Know what I'm thinking," he replied.

'Close enough,' she thought with a grin. "I keep telling you, Josh,
I'm tuned to you."

"Yeah, but it's getting kind of freaky. I mean maybe you've missed
your calling. Maybe we should set you up with your own hotline or
something. You know, like 'Mistress Donnatella's Psychic Hotline.' You
could make millions."

She dipped one of her cookies in the sweet wine they'd brought and
took a bite. Chewing thoughtfully on the delicately flavored piece,
she listened to him ramble. In the world of Josh, rambling often
equaled stalling. Now she was really curious to hear what he was
stalling about. "It would never work," she replied simply.

That seemed to bring him up short. "Why not?"

Swallowing the bite she was chewing on, she looked at him squarely.
"Because it only works with you."  She patted his hand. "I'm in tune
with you, not the entire, you know, universe." She picked up another
cookie and dipped it slowly in the wine. "So stop stalling and spit it
out."

"God, you're amazing," he told her with smirk. "Okay...." he took
another bit of his dessert for courage, which made no sense as neither
caffeine nor dairy products were know for their courage building
abilities. He let out a breath. "So in the spirit of the 'any subject
is open for discussion,' I've been giving what you said about going
back to college some thought."

"Really?" she replied.  "That's what you've been wanting to talk
about?" She hadn't expected that subject to come up during dinner and
what's more, she didn't see how that it would worry him enough to lead
to all the procrastinating.

"Yeah," he said, now ready to dive into unknown waters. "Do you think
you could pay for it if I paid your rent?"

'Ah,' she thought.  Now she understood. "Josh, I appreciate the offer
but it's not fair for you to make the payment on your townhouse and
the rent on my apartment."

Of course, she didn't know he was already paying a large part of her
rent and he had no intention of telling her at that point. "I agree,"
he replied. "I was thinking about selling or sub-leasing my townhouse.
 I'm never there anyway."

She laid the cookie in her hand down and once again she looked at him,
"Josh? What, exactly, are you saying?"

He reached his hand out to her and she took it. "What I'm saying, and
you're completely free to say no, is that we're already living
together and have been for the last two months. Why don't we make it
official and move in together?" He saw the next question in her eyes
and answered it for her. "Things between us wouldn't change. Nothing
is going to happen between us that you don't want or that you're not
ready for." He smiled. "The only thing that would change is more of my
stuff is going to be over at your place....our place." He paused.  "If
I sell the townhouse I'd make a profit because property values have
gone up since I bought it and if I sub-lease it I could get more than
enough to make the mortgage payment every month. Either way, I could
pay your rent and you could pay for school.  I kind of got the
impression that you wanted to do that part on your own."

She smiled, pleased that he'd understood that.  "Yes, I did."

"So what do you think of the idea?" he asked her gently. "You can take
all the time you want to think about it."

She looked at him, watching the candlelight flickering in his eyes.
Some women would be disappointed that he hadn't asked her to marry
him. But not Donna. She knew she wasn't ready for that step yet.  She
was getting a little closer and this was a step in the right
direction. As he'd done all along, Josh was taking things slow and
letting her decide how she wanted to proceed. "I don't need to think
about it," she replied quietly. "I think it's a great idea. But are
you sure you want to do it? I'll find a way to pay for college even if
we don't move in together. I don't want you to feel like you have to
do it or that I won't end up going back to school if you don't."

"I don't feel that way," he squeezed her hand to reassure her.  "I
want to do this.  You know me well enough to know that I wouldn't have
brought it up if I didn't."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have us live at your townhouse? I
mean you already own it and it is a little bigger than my apartment,"
she pointed out.

Relieved that she was agreeing with his idea and not getting mad or
dumping the rest of her dinner over his head, he smiled. "Well, it's
not a lot bigger. Just an extra bedroom really. A bedroom which I
don't use except to store stuff or when Sam used to come to visit. But
Sam's got his own place here now so that pretty much nixes that use.
I'm sure we can fit both our things into your apartment. And what
doesn't fit can go into storage. Oh, and remember, my condo board
doesn't allow pets." He smiled. "While I think we could manage to
smuggle in CJ's gold fish or something the size of a Chihuahua, I
don't think we'd manage to get Harley past the condo board's notice."
He paused.  "Besides, you're already settled there and to be honest I
like your place better than mine.  Other than the fact that you're
there, it's got the underground parking mine doesn't, it's more secure
than mine is, and it's closer to the White House and Sam's office than
mine is. Unless you have some great love for my townhouse I'd rather
we just stayed at your apartment."

She brushed her thumb across the back of his hand. "The only reason I
would like your townhouse better would be if you were there."

He looked at her and the love he felt for her all but choked him. He
was so proud of her, of what she'd endured and survived to be the
amazing person she was. She was funny and intelligent and she loved
him. If he never got another thing in his life he'd still be the
luckiest man alive. "I love you," he said. In the last week it had
often struck him how easy those three words were to say to her and how
right saying them felt.

She looked at him with suspiciously bright eyes, made even brighter by
the candle and firelight that was reflected in them. How had she ever
deserved him? This man who'd given her so much. Who'd saved her. Who
loved her. "I love you, too."  He leaned in and kissed her tenderly.
The sweet cookie and wine taste of her mouth was an unusual but
wonderful compliment to the creamy espresso taste of his. 'It's so
like us,' she thought. At first glance, they were not an obvious
combination but once you put them together, you wondered why no one
had ever thought about it before.

When they broke apart, Donna looked at him.  "Josh, did you think I'd
be angry you wanted to suggest moving in together?"

"Well, I thought it could go either way. I didn't know if you would
think I was pressuring you or moving too fast or maybe you'd want
more..." he tried to explain.

"How can I want more when you already give me everything I want?" A
soft smile warmed her face even more.  "Love, support, laughter and
you. I could never ask for more than that."

He watched the sincerity in her eyes and hoped she saw it in his.
"Some might want marriage," he said quietly. She started to speak but
he stopped her. "Wait, let me say this. I've been thinking about it a
lot lately. There's nothing I'd like more than to marry you someday,
Donnatella. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. But I
didn't think you were quite ready to take that step and if 'you're'
not ready, that means 'we're' not ready."

Donna was quiet for a moment. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought
about marrying you. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else
either, Joshua. And you were right, I'm not quite ready.  But......,"
she reached out and laid her hand on his cheek. "I'm getting ready. I
won't be 'not ready' forever. And when I get there, you'll be the
first one to know because I'll be the one asking YOU to marry ME."

He smiled and, turning his head, he pressed a kiss into the palm of
her hand. "And when that time comes, I'll be the one saying yes."

She smiled at his words. It was bright and full of hope and promise.
"Now, finish your dessert so we can go....home," she told him.

**********

"They say it's going to snow tonight," Josh commented as they stepped
outside and stood on the front stoop of the building.  They'd just
gotten back from dinner and picking up Harley from Sam's. After
dropping their things off at the apartment...their apartment, they
were on their way out again to take Harley for a final walk of the
night.

With the now reporters gone, it seemed even more quiet that usual
outside to Donna.  Only the occasional passing car or pedestrian broke
the stillness. She took a deep lungful of the cold night air. It was a
good evening for a walk. "I'll take snow over reporters any day,"
Donna replied as they started down the steps with Harley's leash
gripped tightly in her hand.

As they started down the sidewalk, Josh held out his elbow and Donna
linked her arm with his. "Hard to argue with that," he told her. "Oh,
I meant to tell you, Mike called me today."

"Really? What did he want?"

"He'd like to see us."

She looked at Josh. "Did he say why?  I mean, is everything all right
with the case?"

"Far as I know.  He told me he'd like to talk to us about a few
things.  I'm only guessing but I think he wants to give us some
information on the case that might come out in the press or during the
trial. I think he feels responsible for making sure we stay well
informed and he wants us to hear things from him first so we'll be
prepared."

"Hmmm," she replied.  A few moments of silence passed before she spoke
again. "Josh, I've been meaning to run something by you."

"What is it?"

"I was wondering....what would you say to me testifying at the trial?"

It took him a moment to find his voice to answer, "But how can you
testify? You don't remember anything."

"Oh, no, sorry. During the penalty phase, I mean. I can speak to how
the attack affected my life.  I'm going to ask to Barbara about it and
see what she thinks but I've been giving it some thought and I'd like
to do it if they'll let me. I'd kind of like to speak for the victims.
I feel at least some responsibility for them."

He stopped walking, "Donna, what happened to them wasn't your fault."

"No, I know," she said, honestly. "I just....it's hard to explain.
But....I want to be their voice.  I'm sure that their families and
friends will speak too but I want to do this. I need to do this." She
looked at him.  "Since I can't testify during the criminal phase I
still want to do what I can to see that he never hurts anyone again."

He squeezed her arm and they started walking again. "Well, then that
would make you about the bravest person I've ever met."

"Thanks," she said with a smile as they walked on.

Their usual walking path for Harley's nightly ritual took them along a
two block area around the apartment but tonight all three of them were
in the mood to walk so they expanded their walk to cover four blocks.
A lot of it was passed in a comfortable silence. Harley was sniffing
with fascination at anything he could reach, and Josh and Donna were
simply enjoying being outside together without having to worry about
how it might look. The glow of the neighborhood holiday decorations
and lights were a wonderful backdrop to the cold, still night.

When Harley left a steaming present on the sidewalk, Donna handed Josh
the leash and pulled a plastic bag out of her pocket.  Always priding
herself on being a responsible pet owner, she used the bag to scoop up
the pile and then she walked a few feet behind them to deposit it in a
nearby trash receptacle. As she turned to walk to walk back to Josh
and Harley something caught her eye.  Across the street was a small
Christmas tree lot. The older gentleman working there looked to be
closing up for the night.

Josh and Harley had waited for Donna and when he saw her stop and look
across the street he followed her gaze to the Christmas tree lot.
Walking back to where she was standing he saw the wistful look on her
face. "Donna?"

"Yeah?" she said, still looking at the trees.

He smiled.  She looked just like a little kid. "Everything okay?"

"Hmm? What?" She suddenly realized Josh was talking to her and she
turned to look at him.  "Oh, Josh, I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked if everything was okay."

"Oh, yeah.  Of course," she replied, still a little distracted.

His smile widened and he jerked his head at the trees.  "You want to
go take a look?"

"Could we? You wouldn't mind?" she asked, her own smile breaking out.
"Just for a minute."

"Sure, come on."  He took her gloved hand in his and after checking to
make sure there were no cars coming, the three of them crossed the
street to the tree lot.

"Evenin'," the older gentleman greeted them as they walked up. "It's
awful late for you young people to be out and about. Can I help you
with anything?"

"We were out for a walk, saw your tree lot and thought we'd come over
and take a look," Josh told him.

"Well, I was just closing up but you're welcome to take a look around.
 If you see anything you like, just let me know," he replied. "My
name's Chris."

"Thank you, Chris," Josh said as he watched the man disappear behind a
group of trees. He turned to Donna, only to find her still staring in
happy delight at all the trees. He leaned in close to her, "Which one
would you like?"

She looked at him, sure she'd heard him wrong. "What?"

"I said which one would you like. You know, Donna, maybe we should get
your hearing checked.  Evergreen seems to have a dampening affect on
it," he said with a teasing grin. "Ever since we got near this lot
you've been having some trouble hearing me."

"You wouldn't mind if I got a tree?"

"Not only do I not mind, I will buy you the tree of your choice," he told her.

She grinned. "Really?!!" She threw her arms around him. "You're not
going to be offended or anything?"

"Of course not," he chuckled and hugged her back.

"Toby's not gonna be offended or anything either is he?" she asked
pulling back to look at him. "I mean if we have him and CJ and Sam
over or something."

"I can't imagine why. Besides, even if he was, he'd have nothing to
say about it anyway, you don't live with Toby, now do you?" He pointed
out with a grin. "The only one who can rightfully object would be the
other occupant of the apartment." They both looked down at Harley.
"What do you say, boy?  You mind if we get a tree?"

Harley, who'd been standing next to Josh thinking how fun it would be
to see how many of the trees he could leave his mark on, sat down and
barked once in agreement.  He liked the idea of having his very own
tree in his very own human's apartment. The other dogs in the
neighborhood and at the big white building would be green with envy.

"Well, it's settled then," Josh said with a laugh.  "So why don't you
go pick out a tree?"

Donna grinned excitedly and hugged him again. Letting go of him she
turned to look at the trees.  It didn't take long until her eyes fell
on just the right one. "That one," she said, pointing to one of them.

Josh looked at the one she'd picked out. "That one?! Are you sure?  I
think it's bigger than your couch. Do you think it will even fit in
your apartment?"

Just then, Chris walked over to them.  "Good choice," he said,
referring to the seven foot blue spruce pine tree she'd picked out.

"Pleeeease, Josh," she begged.  "You said any one I wanted and I want that one."

He grinned.  "Okay," he said, pulling out his wallet. "How much is it, Chris?"

Chris stroked his short, neatly trimmed, snow white beard. "Well,
that's a very special tree. One of the best on my lot. Normally it
would be about $120."

"$120!" Josh and Donna exclaimed.

"Now, if you two young people will just let me finish...I said it
would normally be $120. But since it's late and you seem like you'll
give it a good home, I'll let you have it for $60," he said with a
grin.

"Sold," Donna replied with another excited grin.

Josh had to keep from laughing at how easily she was spending his
money. "Okay, I can live with $60," he said, handing it over. "Now,
let me just run home and get my car....."

Chris stroked his beard again, "Well, now we've got a problem there,
son.  I've got to get home to the missus and I'm already late.  If you
can't take it now, I'm afraid you'll have to come back and get it
tomorrow."

Josh looked at Donna, who was giving him the full power of the pout
she knew he was powerless to resist. He looked back at Chris, "Any
idea how I can get it home tonight?  We live about 3 blocks from
here."

"Aww, that's easy. Just drag it home," Chris suggested.

Donna joined the debate at that point. "Won't that ruin it?"

"Nope," Chris replied.  "I'll bag it up for you and it will be as good
as new when you get it there.  I'll even throw in a free tree stand."

"Well, Josh?"  Donna asked him.

Now she was doing the half pout which was just as potent as the full.
"Sure.  Okay.  I mean how hard can it be to drag a tree three blocks?"

**********

"Harley, next time I agree to drag a tree, Christmas or otherwise,
three blocks could you bite me or something?" Josh said looking down
at him.  Harley looked up at him and wagged his tail in sympathy.
Dragging the tree had been much harder than he'd expected. Although it
was wrapped in netting to make it much narrower and half covered in a
piece of cardboard so the branches didn't get scraped or broken, it
was heavier than he'd expected and about as maneuverable as a tank.
His arm and his back were already aching from gripping the base of the
trunk and the force required to drag it over curbs and sidewalks and
every invisible thing that the netting seemed to get caught on.

They'd been about halfway home when Donna realized that she didn't
have any lights for the tree and that her Christmas decorations were
still out in the storage facility with her car. As fate would have it,
they passed the small drug store not too far from the apartment and it
happened to be open 24 hours and, like every kind of store from
grocery to hardware at Christmas, had a selection of holiday lights
and decorations. So, consequently, Josh and Harley found themselves,
standing outside the drug store waiting for Donna to come out with
some lights and a few decorations.

"Is it just me or do you I feel like we're in some kind of twisted
Christmas riddle?" he asked Harley. "A Jewish lawyer, a dog, and a
Christmas tree go into a bar..... or you know, in our case, stand
outside a 24-hour drug store waiting for it to snow." He paused, and,
as if on cue, light flakes of snow began to trickle out of the sky.
"All I have to do now is think up a good punch line."  Just then, the
bell on the door jingled and Donna came out. She was carrying three
shopping bags full of stuff. "Wow, did you clean them out?" he asked
her with a grin.

She grinned, "Almost, I think."

"Well, you ready to go?  Me and the mutt are getting frostbite."

"Yep, I'm all set," she replied taking Harley's leash from him. They
trudged on, the snow falling faster and faster the closer they got to
home. Finally they reached the brownstone and as he put his foot on
the bottom step, Donna put her hand on his arm. "Josh."

"Hmmm?  What's wrong?  Don't you want to go inside and get the tree
set up?" he asked her.

"Yes, but I wanted to tell you....." she trailed off.  "I just wanted
to say...." Her throat seemed to keep closing up.

With a frown, Josh set down the tree and stepped over to her. She
looked up at him and there were tears shimmering in her eyes.  "What
is it?" he asked her.

"No one ever bought me a Christmas tree before. We had a fake one when
I was young and all the ones I've had as an adult I bought. Thank you,
Josh."

He looked at her. There was snow glistening in her hair and on the
shoulders of her coat, making her look like she'd been brushed with
diamond dust. He remembered the day at the farm when they'd made snow
angels behind the house and he thought that here, standing before him,
was his real, living, breathing snow angel. Leaning in, as he seemed
to be doing a lot, he kissed her. Their lips were both cold but
neither of them seemed to mind. After a moment, he pulled back.
"You're welcome," he said softly.  "Now let's get this tree inside and
see if we can get it decorated before New Year's."

**********

"Well, what do you think?" Josh asked, stepping back so she could see
it without him standing in the way.

It had taken a little bit of work, including the rather comical
production of getting the tree into and then out of the elevator, but
between the two of them they'd managed to wrestle the large tree into
her apartment.

Donna looked up from the box of new ornaments she'd been unpacking.
The tree just fit in the corner of her apartment. After managing to
get the tree up in the stand, without it looking completely crooked,
he'd added the twinkling, colored lights she'd bought. Even with no
other decoration than the lights, the tree looked wonderful.  "I think
it's about the nicest tree I've ever seen.  You did a great job,
Josh."

Josh walked over to her and took a handful of popcorn out of the large
bowl sitting next to the ornaments. "Yeah, I'm kind of impressed
myself," he said around the mouthful of popcorn.

She smirked, "Yes, and we both know how hard that is to do."

"Hey, it's my first tree you know," he pointed out.

She looked at him and smiled.  "Well, then I'm glad you're impressed
because I have a feeling there will be many more in your future." Josh
reached for another handful of popcorn, "Hey, that's for the tree,"
she told him.

"But I'm tired and hungry after I lugged your prize home," he whined.

"Well, it is late," she said hanging the first ornament on the tree.
"And even thought it's Saturday tomorrow..." she checked her watch.
"Or more accurately, today.  You've got staff at 8 so maybe you should
go to bed."

"What about you?" he said, sitting down on the couch.

"I'm going to finish putting the ornaments on the tree. Then I'll be
along. All I've got tomorrow is my session with Barbara so I can sleep
in."

"Sam gives you Saturdays off?" Josh asked.

"No, Sam gives me Sundays off, unless there's an emergency. Saturdays
I'm on call."

"How exactly is that different from when you worked for me?

"Because 'on call' to Sam means only if he really, really needs me.
'On call' to you meant, I better plan on coming in anyway," she told
him as she bent over to pick up an ornament from the coffee table.

"Well, I really, really needed you all the time," Josh told her
softly. "I still do."

She stood up and looked at him. "I know," she replied with a soft
smile. "And...I liked the fact that you did and I still do," she said,
echoing his words. Putting down the ornament, she walked around the
table and sat down next to him on the couch.  "Tell you what. Since
you worked so hard to get me this tree, I'll finish decorating it
tomorrow. The tree and the lights are enough for now."

"What did you have in mind instead of decorating?"

She smiled, "I'll give you a choice. Either we can turn in for the
night and get some sleep or, since I'm clairvoyant where you're
concerned and I know your back's bothering you from lugging the tree
home, I could give you a massage so you're not a pretzel for staff
tomorrow. It's the least I can do for all the times you rubbed my back
when I was milking the cows."

"God, that is a tough choice," he said with a smirk.  "Ah, I can sleep
when I'm old...and, no, that was not an opening for you to make cracks
about my age."

She grinned, "I wouldn't dream of it.  So I take it that you're
choosing door number 2?"

"Yes, but I have a stipulation," he told her.

"What?"

"Wait until I get home tomorrow to finish decorating the tree." He
smiled.  "I'll even help you string popcorn."

Donna had to swallow the lump in her throat, before she could speak.
"Okay, I promise to wait for you to get....home."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 39 - MATURE



Saturday was crisp and clear as Donna turned into the parking lot and
pulled into the first space she found. There was still plenty of
evidence of the light snow from the night before but the roads were
clean and dry.  Josh lent her his car so she didn't have to take the
Metro to Bethesda to see Barbara. Tossing her purse over her shoulder,
she took hold of Harley's leash and he jumped down out of the car.
After she locked the car, they walked into the building. Choosing the
stairs rather than the elevator, Donna and Harley walked up to the
second floor and knocked on Barbara's door. She heard footsteps move
toward the door and the sound of the metal latch turning as Barbara
opened the door.

"Hi, Donna, come on in," she said.

"Hi, Barbara," Donna said, as they walked inside.

Barbara knelt down to greet Harley.  "Hey, boy. How are you?" Harley
responded by giving her a face a good lick.  Barbara laughed and
scratched him behind the ears.  Standing, she closed the door behind
them. "Would you like some tea, Donna?"

"Yes, please," she replied, as she settled herself on the wide,
comfortable, sage colored couch. Harley settled down by her feet.  "I
like your the lights," she said, referring to the strings of white
icicle lights that Barbara had hung along the top of her bookcases. It
made her already warm, comfortably cluttered office look festive
without going overboard.

"Oh, thanks.  I don't usually decorate too much for the holidays," she
said, drawing them each a cup of hot water from the water cooler.
Bringing them over, she set them down on a tray she'd already put out
on the coffee table. "Personally, I like to take the minimal approach.
It's not that I don't like Christmas, far from it, I even have a small
tree at home. But since I'm single and I'm usually visiting family or
friends during the holidays, I never got used to going all out with
the decorating." She settled herself into the club chair that matched
the couch and dropped a tea bag into her mug.

"Oh, is that what you're doing for the holidays this year? Visiting
family?" Donna asked as she stirred her tea.

"Yes, my niece just had a baby and so I'll be spending the holidays
with them and my sister in Michigan."

Donna took a sip of her tea. "We're going to have a few people over,
just friends." Her and Josh had decided to have a quiet Christmas
morning with just the two of them and then a late afternoon dinner
with Sam, Toby, CJ and Will.

"Oh, that should be fun."

"I hope so. We're going the non-traditional route. We just had turkey
for Thanksgiving and although a lot of people have ham for Christmas,
Josh and Toby are Jewish and so ham is kind of out, so we decided on
salmon."

"Salmon sounds like a great alternative," Barbara replied.  "Oh, help
yourself to the pineapple coffee cake."

Donna reached out and cut herself of the coffee cake that was sitting
on the tea tray. "I see you've been fostering your co-dependent
relationship with Mrs. Johnson."

"Guilty as charged," Barbara replied with a grin as she stirred her
tea. "So, Donna, what's been going on with you? It sounds like you're
enjoying the holidays."

Donna chewed on her bite of coffee cake. "I am, but I wasn't so much
until yesterday."

"Really?  So what happened yesterday?" she said, taking another sip of her tea.

"Well, I went to my first art therapy class."

"What did you think?"  Barbara asked her.

"I really liked it, oh, and Pamela is really patient.  We started with
pottery. It was really relaxing. I even got a bowl made. It was
lopsided but...." Donna said with a proud grin.

"Really?  After just one session?  That's terrific." Barbara took her.
"So you're going to stay with it?"

"Oh, yes, definitely."

"Good, glad to hear it. But what does that have to do with you
enjoying the holidays?"

"Well, nothing really, except that it was the start of really great
evening. See Josh surprised me by picking me up after my session and
he took me out for a wonderful dinner," she sipped her tea as she
remembered. "And then after dinner we went for a walk and he bought me
a Christmas tree." A completely sappy smile crossed her face.

"But didn't you say he was Jewish?  Can I assume he doesn't even
celebrate Christmas?"

Donna nodded. "Well, since I've know him he's kind of celebrated both
of them. He grew up only celebrating Hanukkah and he doesn't really
celebrate Christmas so much for himself but he always gets me and a
number of friends, family, and associates Christmas presents every
year." She smiled, "Or should I say I give him a selection of gifts
and he tells me what he wants me to buy for everyone. All except my
gift.  He always picks out and buys mine himself." She paused and
thought for a moment. "But as far as I know, he's never bought a
Christmas tree before, which was why I was so surprised when he
offered to get me one last night. I didn't even have to ask, he just
saw me looking at the lot and he told me to pick out one." She
grinned.  "He even dragged it three blocks back to the apartment
because the guy was getting ready to close and couldn't wait for us to
go and get the car. Then he helped me decorate it."

"You're kidding?! That is about the sweetest thing I've ever heard,"
Barbara told her.

Donna smiled. "I know...." Her voice trailed off and her expression
softened. "It was beyond sweet."

"Why do I think that's not the whole story?" Barbara asked.

Donna traced the lip of her mug.  "At dinner he asked me to move in
with him." She looked up at Barbara and smiled softly. "Or more
accurately he asked if he could move in with me."

Barbara was having a hard time reading Donna. She didn't seem to be
upset by what Josh had proposed but there was still something there.
"And what did you think about that?"

"Oh, I think it's a great idea and I told him so.  I mean we've been
pretty much unofficially living together since before we went to New
Hampshire," Donna told her.

"But......." Barbara prompted.

Donna stared at her for a moment, "No 'but.' I really do want us to
officially live together.  The time that he's been staying with me has
been great.  We don't seem to get on each other's nerves, we still do
the banter thing, he makes me laugh, he's supportive of things I want
to do, and he loves Harley," she said running her hand over a
semi-sleeping Harley's head.

"Okay. That all sounds great," Barbara replied. "But......"

Donna looked at her for moment, trying to put her feelings into words.
"Um...well...I...we...."

"Donna, it's okay," Barbara said, gently.  "Take a breath."

She leaned back a little into the couch and closed her eyes. Taking a
couple of deep steadying breaths, she tried again. The words came out
in a bit of a rush. "While we were talking about moving in together,
we also talked about marriage."  She took another breath, "Josh said
that he thought about marrying me."

"And that was bad?" Barbara asked.

Donna shook her head. "No, no. It was....it was wonderful."

Barbara frowned. "Then I'm not seeing the problem."

"He said he didn't ask me to marry him because I wasn't ready for that
step," Donna replied.

"Okay.  How did you feel about that?"

Donna stared at the icicle lights. "He's right, I'm not ready." Then
she focused back in on Barbara. "But I want to be."

"Good, that's a big step in right direction," Barbara replied. She saw
Donna's frown. "It's not a step in the right direction?"

"I'm just not sure it's so much a question of getting married but of,
you know...." her voice trailed off. "I mean I've thought about
marrying him, too. I know I can't see myself with anyone but Josh. I
don't want to be with anyone else. But...."

"Donna, are you worried about being physically intimate with Josh?"

She nodded, "Yes. Exactly. But I don't know why. We've started kissing
and it's everything it's supposed to be. Everything it hasn't been in
the past with others. Toe-curling, heart-quickening, breath-stealing,
loin-burning....."

"Loin-burning?" Barbara asked.

Donna shrugged, "Sorry, it's what came to mind."

"Okay. So what are you worried about?"

"I have no earthly idea," Donna wailed as she sank back into the couch
cushions. "I don't know what's holding me back."

"Sure you do," Barbara insisted. "Let's think about it."

Donna stared at the ceiling and tried to make a reason surface. "I
guess I have....concerns."

"Well, tell me what they are."

"What, for example, if I'm....inadequate?"

Barbara frowned, "In what way?"

Donna leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
"Before....with the others sex was just...sex.  Oh, it was fine and
all, I had the occasional orgasm but for the most part sex seemed like
something that they wanted more than I did.  I mean I was a willing
participant but I did it usually because they wanted it and I wanted
to please them." She tried to smile, "No pun intended." She paused.
"But with Josh.....I...." her voice trailed off.

"With Josh you want it too.  It means something to you and that scares
the crap out of you," Barbara finished.

Donna grinned in spite of herself. "Yeah, I guess that's pretty much
it. I don't want to disappoint....either of us."

"Good," Barbara replied with a smile.

Donna frowned. "Good?"

"Yes, it's good because it's supposed to mean something, Donna. The
sexual abuse from your childhood, even though you repressed it, did
everything it could to short circuit that. But when it's with the
right person and at the right time, it's scary and amazing and fun and
everything in between. That's because it goes from being a purely
physical act to an emotional one and an extension of what you feel for
each other. And yes, I know that sounds like a romance novel
description, but it's true.  But ask any sex therapist and they'll
tell you that most sex goes on between your ears, not between your
legs.  Good sex starts with a healthy attitude about sex." She paused
for a moment. "Let me ask you something that I think will put this
issue to rest for you."

 "Okay," Donna replied, not knowing what question Barbara was going to ask her.

"With your past sexual partners, did you ever have the same, deep,
emotional connection with them that you have with Josh?"

Donna considered that for a minute. She thought about Scott, a.k.a.
Dr. Freeride. Just like she'd told Barbara, she'd thought she was in
love with him but she could see now that there had been something
missing from their relationship. She'd kept waiting for it to change,
waiting for things to be the way she wanted, the way she expected, the
way she hoped. And yet that had never materialized. Because of it
she'd always held part, a big part, of herself back. Then she thought
about Cliff.  She'd hardly known him long enough to know his name,
much less form an emotional connection with him. Their fast and
furious relationship and the one night stand it had spawned,
definitely fell in the 'purely physical act' category. And then there
was Jack. She cared about Jack but the fact that he'd worked in the
White House had sort of lent itself to having a certain distance in
their relationship. There was always a certain guardedness on both
their parts. And of course the way things had ended, with Jack letting
her take the blame for his quote, had been less than desirable. She
couldn't imagine Josh ever letting her take the fall for anything he'd
done.

Scott, Cliff and Jack had all used or taken advantage of her to some
degree or another and she'd let them.  Hell, on a number of occasions
she'd encouraged and helped them. She saw now that her part in that
equation had come out of a lack of self-esteem. But it was worth
noting that it hadn't happened with Josh.  Oh, he'd used her in minor
ways on occasion at work to further an agenda he was working on. The
difference was, he'd never used her as a person and she knew he never
would. The thought filled her with more warmth than any cup of hot tea
or electric blanket could have.

She looked back at Barbara, "No, I've never had a connection to anyone
like I have with Josh."

"I figured as much," Barbara replied. "Now, if we turn the tables and
I were to ask you if you thought that anything Josh could do in the
bedroom would be inadequate, what would you say?"

Donna didn't hesitate to answer, "Nothing Josh could do in or out of
the bedroom could ever be inadequate to me." She smiled.  "Just don't
tell him I said that or his head will be able to double for a balloon
float in the Macy's Thanksgiving parade."

Barbara smiled back. "Your secret's safe with me. But what I'm getting
at is I'd be willing to bet, if you asked Josh the same question about
you, he'd have the same response."

"You really think so?" she asked.

"What I think isn't important here, Donna.  What you think is. So what
do you think he'd say?"

Donna thought about it and she could almost hear Josh saying the
words. She smiled softly. Trying to see herself through Josh's eyes
was quite an eye opener.  "Yes, I think he would say the same thing."

Barbara grinned.  "Well, there you go. Now what are some of your other
concerns?"

Donna's happiness at overcoming the first issue was overshadowed by
Barbara's question. "Do I have to have more?" she asked with a frown.

"You did say 'concerns.' That implies more than one," Barbara pointed
out. "Hey, we're 1 for 1 so far. Don't stop now."

Donna thought about it some more. "Well, I guess the attack has
something to do with it too. I mean when I had to say 'rape' to Danny
Concannon for his article, it kind of threw me."

Barbara looked at her for a minute.  "I'd be surprised if it wasn't on
your mind. When I first looked at your case and suspected the abuse
you suffered as a child,  I knew there would come a time when we'd
have to deal with the attack and the rape.  You see, Donna, we had to
weed through your childhood issues first because although they were
older, they were more immediate. They were old patterns that were
coloring the way you were reacting to the new trauma of your assault.
The two things were tangled up together. So, now that we've pretty
well cleared out the childhood issues, how do you feel about the rape
and your assault?"

Donna sighed, "You know it's the strangest feeling. I still don't
remember the attack."

"And I think we've pretty much established that, unlike your childhood
trauma, your head injury is going to keep you from ever remembering
more than snatches and images," Barbara put in.

"Right." Donna agreed. "But what I mean is that while on a conscious
level I don't remember it, on another level I do. And what I remember
seems to emerge at the most inopportune and surprising ways. Like when
I smelled the President's cigarette and it made me remember the smell
and the pain of being burned during the attack and I passed out and
got sick." She took a breath as the thought began to solidify in her
mind.  "What if Josh and I are making love and I have some kind of
flashback about the rape and freak out or pass out? Something I'm not
expecting? He would take it personally and feel like it was his fault.
Not to mention the fact I would be mortified and be the one to
actually blame since it's what would be going on in my head. I think
it would be a serious blow to any physical relationship we'd want to
have."

"You make a very valid point," Barbara began. "But I'm not sure that
you can compare your memory of the rape and the burn equally. Just
because you had a reaction from the burn, doesn't mean you'll have one
from the rape. You may have just been more conscious when he burned
you because it probably happened near the end of the attack. It's very
likely that you were more deeply unconscious during the rape. There's
also the fact that while there was a certain amount of pain and smell
during the rape, both aspects would have been even more pronounced
when you were being burned. Smell is the sense most closely related to
memory, which is why I think that the cigarette burn is such a trigger
point for you."

Donna considered that.  "Well, that does make sense," she said,
although her voice sounded like she wasn't quite convinced.

"In any case, I think I have a couple of suggestions that might help.
But before I tell you what they are, is there anything else you're
concerned about?"

Donna sighed, "All that wasn't enough?"

Barbara smiled comfortingly.  "Yes, of course it was.  I just wanted
to make sure that we'd covered everything before I go any farther."

"No, I think that's it," Donna answered.

Barbara nodded. "Okay, here's my first suggestion. You need to practice."

"Practice?" Donna asked, baffled.

Barbara nodded and poured herself a new cup of hot water for another
cup of tea.  "You need to visualize yourself making love with Josh.
Practice it in your head. Not just once, but a couple of times. Take
some time when you're alone and relaxed. Make it as vivid and specific
as possible. Visualize different settings and positions. Not just how
it looks, but how it feels, how it tastes, and how it smells. Then see
how it makes you feel.  Are you panicked? Scared? Happy? Does it feel
comfortable? Sexy? Right? Wrong? Besides helping you possibly gauge
how you'll react to the real thing, the simple act of 'practicing'
will also help you get used to the idea of taking that step. If the
visualization is a positive experience, chances are the real thing
will be too. It all goes back to what I was saying about the biggest
part of sex happening in your head." Barbara dropped a tea bag into
the water. "If you have any questions or problems with the
visualizations, we can talk about it more in our next session."

"Okay, I'll give it a try," Donna told her.

"That's all I ask." Barbara stirred her tea for a moment. "And here's
my second suggestion. You need to talk to Josh about your concerns."

"But I don't want to worry him...."

"You're making excuses," Barbara told her. "Any successful
relationship, sexual or otherwise, is based on good communication. You
need to tell him. Even if everything goes fine and there are no
negative effects when you take that step with him, he has a right to
know."

"I'm scared to talk to him about it," Donna said honestly.

"It's okay to be scared. People are often embarrassed or scared to
talk about their sexual health or sexual wants and needs with their
partner, even under the best of circumstances. You've got the added
complication of the attack and the abuse in your childhood, both of
which make it even harder. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't do it."
Donna still looked unsure.  "Okay, look. If you think that you can try
my first suggestion, just promise me you'll think about the second
one. Is that fair?"

Donna felt like she'd gotten a little reprieve.  The first suggestion
definitely sounded interesting but the second one made her stomach
swarm with butterflies.  "Very fair," she said with a nod. "I promise
to think about talking to him."

"Good."  There was a pause and for a moment, the only sound in the
room was Harley's soft snoring.

"Barbara," Donna began as she took the last bite of her coffee cake.
"There is one other thing I wanted to ask you about. It's not related
to Josh and me," she clarified.

"Shoot," Barbara replied, taking a sip of her tea.

"Well, you've probably heard how they caught the Strangler?"  Barbara
nodded so she continued. "Because of my memory, I know I can't testify
during the criminal phase of his trial but I was wondering what you
thought about me testifying during the penalty phase? I haven't
mentioned it to the U.S. Attorney yet. I wanted to run the idea by you
first."

Barbara looked at her for a minute. "I think it's very admirable and,
I imagine, very therapeutic for you. Since you're bringing it up, I
assume you feel very strongly about doing it?"

Donna nodded.  "Even though I don't remember the attack, I definitely
remember what happened after.  I want to speak for his victims. I know
what they went through, or what they would've gone through if they'd
survived."

"Even if it means he gets the death penalty?" Barbara asked, quietly
wanting to make sure that Donna was taking the potential consequences
of her actions into account.

"Yes," Donna said with conviction. "He needs to either be locked away
forever or he needs to suffer the same ultimate fate as his victims."
She let out a breath. "And I intend to do everything I can to
accomplish that."

**********

Later that afternoon, just as the sun was setting, Josh rode up in the
elevator, a large plastic tub gripped securely in his hands.  He'd
didn't trust himself to carry it up the stairs without taking a
header. It wasn't that heavy but it was bulky enough to make walking a
little awkward even on a flat, level surface. Trying to navigate the
stairs with it would just be asking for trouble.

He hoped that Donna liked his surprise.  He'd had to go all the way to
the storage facility in Alexandria to get the tub. Actually his trip
had served a dual purpose. It helped him finalize a couple of details
for his moving into Donna's apartment and Christmas. He'd talked Sam,
Toby and CJ into coming over tomorrow to help him and Donna pack up
the things he was bringing over to Donna's.  A moving company would be
coming on Wednesday to pack up the rest of the things and put them in
storage with her things in Alexandria.

Arriving at the second floor, the elevator dinged and the doors slid
open. Josh walked to the door and saw that the alarm system was on.
Since Donna usually turned it on, even when she was home, he didn't
know if Donna was there or not.  Rather than ringing the bell, he put
down the tub and pulled out his keys. He knew that her sessions with
Barbara often left Donna feeling tired and drained and if she was
taking a nap he didn't want to make her get up and answer the door.
After unsetting the alarm, he unlocked the door and quietly stepped
inside.  Harley, who was laying on his pillow in the living room, had
his head raised to see who had arrived. When he saw it was Josh, he
wagged his tail but didn't get up. With the sun setting, the room was
cast in half shadows but the Christmas tree lights were switched on,
coating the room in a warm, flickering glow.  No other lights were on
in the room and the apartment was quiet, so Josh assumed Donna was
indeed asleep. He put his fingers to his lips to signal Harley to stay
quiet.  Harley seemed to understand and he laid his head back down on
the pillow.

Picking up the tub from the hall, Josh carried it over and put it down
next to the Christmas tree.  It was then he saw Donna lying on the
couch, apparently sound asleep. After setting his backpack down next
to the tub, he moved quietly back to the front door, which he closed
and relocked, then he reset the alarm. Pulling off his coat and
hanging it on the rack, he moved back over to the couch. Donna was
still sleeping peacefully, one hand rested on her stomach while the
other one lay on the pillow next to her cheek. Sitting down carefully
on the coffee table, he watched her sleep. The light from the tree
washed over her still, sleeping form, touching her natural beauty with
color and gentle motion. Although he'd planned not to wake her, he
couldn't help but steal a kiss from her. Leaning in, he pressed a
gentle kiss to her lips.

Like a flower leaning toward the sun, Josh's kiss nudged Donna up
through the layers of sleep. She'd come home from her session and had
laid down on the couch to try the visualization technique that Barbara
had mentioned. But she'd been so exhausted from her session, she'd
fallen asleep before she'd gotten very far.  As a matter of fact,
she'd dropped off at about the point they were now. With the kissing.
She had to admit, the visualization part of the kissing paled in
comparison to the real thing. As the kiss finished and she felt him
pull back, she opened her eyes.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Josh said with a smile.

"Does that mean I have to call you Prince Charming?" Donna asked with
a sleepy smirk.

"Well, you can if you want but you'd be stating the obvious," he said
with an answering smirk as he moved to perch on the edge of the couch
next to her hip.

Donna yawned widely and stretched. "That's true," she said with a
smile as she settled deeper into the couch. "So how did things go
today?"

"Good. The President is going to the European Summit after the first
of the year and so we were going over the agenda. He asked about you
by the way," Josh said.

"The President?"

"No, Donna, the janitor.  Yes, of course, the President.  He wanted to
know how you were doing."

"Oh, that was nice. Give him my best when you see him next."

"I will. By the way, I set up our meeting with Mike for 2 pm Monday at
his office.  I called Sam and cleared the time with him too."

"Okay, great.  Do you want me to meet you at Mike's office or come by
the White House first?"

"Why don't you come by the White House about 1? I had Mrs. Willis
clear my schedule for Monday afternoon.  You can leave Harley at the
kennel and you'll have a chance to give the President those best
wishes in person. He's been asking me to get you over there anyway.  I
think he wants to see for himself that you're doing better. You know
how he is."

Donna smiled,  "Yeah. Say, speaking of Mrs. Willis, how is she doing?"
she asked, referring to Josh's new assistant.

Given Josh's propensity for going through assistants like Kleenex,
personnel had asked for Donna's help in selecting her replacement.
Because of her recommendation, they'd hired Mrs. Jean Willis.  Mrs.
Willis, who was a widow in her mid 60's with three grown children,
reminded Donna a great deal of a cross between Mrs. Landingham and
Josh's own mother. In addition to working in DC most of her adult
life, she'd served as Senator Howard Stackhouse's Senior Assistant
during his entire time in office, so she was well equipped to deal
with cranky, arrogant and obstinate politicians. She was also loyal to
a fault.  The only reason she'd agreed to leave Senator Stackhouse to
come and work for Josh was the fact that Stackhouse was in the final
months of his term and because of health reasons he'd decided not to
run for another.

"Keeping me in line," Josh replied. But he was smiling so Donna knew
they were getting along all right.  "Actually, I like her a lot. She
and my mom have already become fast friends."

"I know," Donna said with a grin. "I talked to your mom this morning."

"Then why did you ask me?" he asked with a laugh.

"Because I wanted to hear what YOU thought of her," Donna replied.
She glanced over his shoulder at the clock. "Hey, you're home a little
early, even for a Saturday."

Josh smiled. "Well, I sort of ducked out a little early because I had
an errand to run and I knew you'd be waiting for me....." He paused
and it was full of unspoken meaning.  "You know, to decorate the tree
and everything."

Donna watched him for a moment, her heart beating heavily in her
chest. She laid her hand on his cheek. "Yeah, I was waiting for you,"
she said softly.

Placing a kiss in her palm he took her hand in his.  "How was your
session with Barbara?"

"Good," she said with a smile.  "She thinks that testifying at the
trial could be therapeutic for me."

"Was that all you talked about?" He didn't usually ask her much about
her sessions. He knew how intensely personal they could be and he
figured she would tell him what she wanted him to know when she was
ready. But for some reason, he was a little curious about what they
talked about today.

"I told her we were going to move in together. She thought that was
great too." She paused. "I also talked to her about the whole 'not
being ready thing' and she gave me some suggestions on what I can do
to start getting ready."

He brushed a strand of hair out of her face.  "Anything you want to share?"

She looked up at him for a moment. "Not yet," she said quietly. She
gave his hand a squeeze, "I will. Just not now."

"But everything's okay?" he asked.

"Yes. I swear it's fine," she told him. "I just need a little more
time to think about it."

"Ah-kay. When you're ready to talk about it I'm ready to listen," he
said with a smile. "Oh, hey, I brought you two surprises."

Her face lit up with excitement. "Really? I got something for you today too."

"You did?"

She grinned and nodded. "It's on the kitchen table."

"Can I open it now?" he asked, like a kid on Christmas.

"If I can open mine now."

"Deal," she replied with a grin.

Josh got up and went over to where he'd left his bag. "The first thing
I brought you isn't really a present so much.  I went out to the
storage facility where we have the remainder of your things I dug out
your box of Christmas decorations."

"You did?" she asked as she sat up on the couch. She was incredibly
touched by the trouble he'd gone to.

"Yep. See?" He picked up the plastic tub and carried it over the to
coffee table. Putting it down in front of her he pulled the lid off.

Donna looked over the collection of ornaments and decorations.  Tears
welled in her eyes as she looked up at him.  "Thank you, Josh."

"Yeah, well, I figured you would need something more than just the
small box of ornaments you bought last night to decorate the tree." He
paused.  "Oh, but the second thing I brought you is something to
open." He went back over and picked up his bag.  Unzipping it, he
pulled out a small wrapped box and dropped the bag back on the floor.
"Here," he said, handing it to her.

Donna looked at the beautiful gold wrapping and then up at Josh. "Go
get yours.  We'll open them together."

"Kay," he grinned. Going over to the table he picked up the box. It
was brightly wrapped in blue and silver Hanukkah paper. "Hey, this is
heavy," he commented with a frown, wondering what on earth she'd
gotten for him. "You know it's not Hanukkah yet," he said, referring
to the wrapping paper.

"Yeah, I know. It's kind of a pre-Hanukkah present."

He carried the box over and sat down next to her on the couch. "Well,
that's good, because yours is kind of a pre-Christmas present.  Open
yours first," he told her.

"Kay." She turned on the lamp so she could see. Sliding the wide gold
ribbon off the box, she ran her fingernail through the seam and under
the tape holding the wrapping together. It fell open and she set the
paper aside.  Then she slid her nail through the tape holding the lid
of the box in place and pulled open the top. Reaching in, she
carefully pulled out the contents. "Oh, Josh," she said. It was a
colorful glass Christmas ornament in the shape of a little house. On
the back it had the year and had been personalized to read: 'Our First
Christmas - Donnatella and Joshua.'

"Well, like I said, I thought you'd need all the ornaments you could
get," Josh told her softly.

"Thank you," she said leaning over to give him a kiss and a hug. "I love it."

He hugged her back.  "I'm glad."

Donna leaned back and grinned at him slightly. "So how much did you
have to pay Sam to help you get it?"

"What? I didn't.....okay 20 bucks," he said with a sigh and a sheepish
grin.  "But it was my idea. I just needed Sam's help with the
execution. How'd you know?"

She smiled at him. "Because I can tell from the markings that you got
it from a Hallmark store and I would have been willing to bet that you
didn't even know WHAT a Hallmark store was much less WHERE to find
one."

"Well, I do now. And, just so you know, Sam I have swore each other to
secrecy. If Toby every finds out, he'd never let us hear the end of
it."

"Don't worry, it will be our little Christmas secret." She leaned
forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Now open your present."

"Kay." Josh was much less delicate about removing the paper.  He
simply ripped it off until he had revealed the white box underneath.
Pulling open he lid, he shoved aside the tissue paper and looked
inside. He wanted to say, 'Oh, Donna,' but he couldn't seem to make
his vocal cords work. Reaching into the box he pulled out the heavy,
sterling silver menorah. On the base was a simple inscription.  Like
Donna's ornament, the year was stamped on it.  Below the year, written
in Hebrew, were their first names.

"I thought you could put it on the window ledge by the tree. There's a
box of candles in there too so we'll be ready when Hanukkah starts
next week." She paused and waited for him to say something. When he
didn't and only continued to stare at the menorah, she got a little
worried.  "Josh? Don't you like it?"

Josh swallowed the lump in his throat. "It's beautiful....it's
perfect," he finally managed.  Pushing aside the box but still holding
the menorah in his hand, he gathered her into a tight hug. "Thank
you."

Donna smiled and hugged him back,  "You're welcome."  Then she
released him and stood up.  "Come on," she said holding out her hand.
"Let's go put them where they belong."

Josh nodded and took her hand. Standing up, he let her lead him around
the coffee table.  While she hung her ornament high up on the tree so
everyone could see it, Josh put the menorah on the narrow window ledge
just to the left of the tree. Then Josh pulled her into a loose
embrace as they stood back and took in the scene.

"They look good together," Donna said.  "Don't you think?"

He looked down at her.  "Like I said.  They look perfect."

Donna smiled up him.  "Hey, I have an idea. Since I fell asleep and
didn't have time to make anything for dinner, how about I call Wong's
Imperial Palace for some food and then afterward we can string popcorn
and I'll finish decorating the tree?"

"Hmmm. Sounds great, as long as you don't give me a hard time if I eat
a handful of popcorn now and then while we're stringing."

"Well, I popped it yesterday so it might be a little on the stale side
but if you don't mind that then knock yourself out."

Josh grinned. "Or you know, I could just stick a new bag in the microwave."

**********

Monday afternoon, Josh and Donna climbed the outside steps to the
front doors of the J. Edgar Hoover Building where Mike had his office.
The weather was clear and cold but they hadn't any more snow since the
night that Josh had bought Donna the Christmas tree so the ground was
clean and dry.

"Is it just me or had they added more decorations to the White House
than they had when I met with Danny?" Donna asked him as they walked
inside and over to the bank of elevators that would take them up to
Mike's fourth floor office.

"Yeah, they've been throwing tinsel and garland over everything that
will stand still long enough," Josh told her as they waited for the
elevator. "Mrs. Willis even tried to decorate my office. But I played
my 'Because I'm the boss and I say so' card and she backed off."

The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. They were the only ones
in the car as the doors closed.  "So in other words, you pulled out
your wallet and bribed her not to put up anything in your office."

Josh stared at her with his mouth hanging open slightly.  "You see,
there you go again with the mind reading.  How on earth did you know
that?"

"Josh, I hate to tell you this but the 'Because I'm the boss and I say
so' card didn't even work on me during the campaign. It's not going to
work on someone like Mrs. Willis whose had to work with Senator
Stackhouse for eight years. So, of course, you had to find another
way."

He smirked.  "So in other words," he said, mocking her earlier words.
"You talked to Mrs. Willis while you were waiting for me to come back
from my meeting with Leo."

Donna smirked as she watched the numbers on the elevators display tick
by, "A good magician, or mind reader, never reveals her secrets."

"Some people could call that cheating you know."

She gave him a sideways glance, "I like to think of it as doing my homework."

He smiled back at her, knowing that she'd won that round. The elevator
reached the fourth floor, the doors opened and they stepped out.
Walking over to the receptionist, they checked in and were told to
have a seat because Mike was finishing up a call.

They settled themselves into two comfortable chairs outside of Mike's
office. The area was a warren of cubicles and offices like the White
House and yet that was where the similarity ended.  The noise and
activity level at the White House was always high and bordered on
frantic. While here at the FBI, at least on the fourth floor, everyone
was busy and moving with a purpose, they managed to do it with a
minimum of nose and a complete lack of frenetic energy. In a way, the
lower noise level was comforting but Donna thought if she had to pick
between the two she'd pick the high energy of the White House.  She
felt Josh take her hand, snapping her out of her reverie.

"You doing okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah, I guess I am a little nervous," she admitted.

"It's just Mike."

"I know, I'm not nervous about talking to Mike.  I'm nervous about
talking to Mike about the Strangler," she replied.

Well, he could hardly fault her for that. He was a little nervous to
hear what Mike had to say himself.  "Yeah."

Just then, the door to Mike's office door opened and Mike emerged. "Hi
guys," he said, coming out to greet them.

"Hey, Mike," Josh and Donna both greeted him.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting.  Come on in," he told them. Josh kept
his hand on Donna's back as they walked into the office and Mike shut
the door behind them. "Have a seat," Mike said, motioning them to the
two visitor's chairs in front of his desk. "Can I get you anything?
Water? Coffee? Tea?"

Josh glanced at Donna. "No. I'm fine," she answered.

"No, we're good," Josh said.

"Okay, well, I'm going to get right to the point." He picked up a file
from a small pile on his desk and opened it.  "I wanted you to come by
today so I could talk to you about a few things. Things that are going
to come out in open court and therefore that will also be in the
press." He looked at both of them for a moment, "I wanted you to be
prepared for them."

"Things are all right with the case, aren't they?" Donna asked, trying
to control her beating heart.  She took Josh's hand to help calm her.
"He's not going to get off or anything is he? I mean....I saw in the
paper that the judge denied him bail."

"No, Donna, it's nothing like that. Richard Weaver is never going to
see the light of day as a free man again. This is not the OJ Simpson
trial. He's bagged and tagged and there is so much physical evidence
against this guy there's no way he's getting out of it. What I called
you here for was to give you a heads up on some of the details of the
case, especially those that are a little shocking and strange."

"Oh, okay," Donna said, not sure if she should relax or not.

"I'm going to start from the beginning so I may tell you some things
you already know from the news or from other sources but I want to be
sure we're on the same page with everything, okay?"  He waited until
they both nodded.  "Good. Now, Weaver has been ruled fit to stand
trial although he and his attorney have already entered a plea of not
guilty by reason of insanity. Because three of the victims, including
Donna, were Federal employees, because the crimes happened within the
District which doesn't have a death penalty of it's own, and because
the charges qualify for the Federal Death Penalty under Title 18, the
case will be prosecuted in Federal court by the Assistant US Attorney,
Thomas Penfield. As I said, with the mountain of physical evidence we
have there's very little doubt that we'll get a conviction and he
intends to seek the death penalty."

Josh and Donna looked at each other.  Everything he'd told them so far
was not news.

Mike paused for a moment in case they wanted to say something. When
they didn't, he continued. "Now for some things you probably don't
know." He looked at Josh. "Josh, Assistant US Attorney Penfield has
cleared me to tell you that because you actually interacted with
Weaver over the phone, he intends to call you as a witness during the
criminal phase of the trial."

"But I don't know any more than what I told you during my statement,"
Josh argued.

"I'm sorry, Josh.  He's pulling out all the stops on this case.
Anyone and everyone that had contact with the Weaver is going to be
called."  He looked at Donna. "Except you, Donna. Your lack of memory
would make you ineffective as a witness during the criminal phase of
the trial. However..." He paused, not sure how his next statement
would be received. "Penfield asked me to tell you that he wants to
call you to testify during the penalty phase."  He waited to see how
the two of them to respond.

Donna looked at Josh and then back at Mike.  "I've already talked to
Josh and my therapist about testifying during the penalty phase and if
it would help, I'm willing."

Mike smiled. "Good." Then he sighed. "Now, what I'm about tell you and
is to remain confidential. Before I can go any farther I need you to
each sign these confidentiality agreements that you won't repeat the
information we're about discuss to anyone." He took out a form for
each of them to sign and waited until they'd read them, signed them
and handed them back, before he continued. Placing them in the file on
his desk, Mike folded his hands on his desk and began.

"Although Weaver has been fairly uncooperative when we've tried to
interview him we've learned a lot about him. Weaver was working as a
cashier at two different grocery stores.  One in Adams Morgan and one
in Foggy Bottom. That was one of the things we used to find his
identity. Each of the victims, including you Donna, used the stores he
worked at. Before he asked for a lawyer, we did get him to tell us
that he targeted his victims when he saw them come through his line at
the markets. He has a photographic memory and he could look at the
addresses on their personal checks once and have the information in
his head.  Then he would watch their homes and learn their habits."

Donna nodded.  "I never even considered that.  I used to write checks
at the grocery store all the time."

Mike nodded.  Then he looked at both of them, his eyes serious.  "Now
here's where things get weird. We haven't been able to get him to tell
us anything about his motive. But as I think you've probably heard in
the news he had a sister, one that was physically similar in
appearance to all the victims, that went missing about a year before
Donna's assault." He paused.  "We now think that he raped and
strangled his sister in a rage when she told him she was going to get
married."

Donna was speechless but Josh voiced the question spinning through her
head.  "How did you come to that conclusion?"

"We spoke to her boyfriend and he told us that he suspected her
brother had something to do with her disappearance. Apparently, she
had told the boyfriend that she was afraid of what her brother would
do when he found out she had another man in her life. So afraid, she'd
lied to Weaver about even having a boyfriend. When we searched the
small home Weaver had shared with her before her disappearance, we
found her body."

Mike took a breath. "He'd converted a small walk-in closet into a tomb
for her.  The room was a shrine of pictures of her. She was in a glass
coffin and he kept the room near freezing, which is why we think he
always turned down the temperature at the crime scenes. Because of the
low temperature in the room, his sister's body was very well
preserved. We also found a journal she kept almost until the day she
died. It recorded their abusive childhood in Philadelphia and Weaver's
long battle with mental illness and a violent temper and his sister's
efforts to take care of him and keep him in control of himself. She
felt she'd owed it to him since their mother had been so horribly
abusive.  Apparently, the mother was a part-time prostitute and she
seemed to take special delight in abusing Weaver. That included sexual
abuse.  His sister even became a nurse so she would have access to
medication he could take to control his mental illness. Her last entry
voiced her concerns about having to tell Weaver that she and her
boyfriend were getting married. We estimate she died within a week of
that entry. We also think that the one year anniversary of her death
is what started him on his murder spree."

He paused again and waited for Josh or Donna to say something. But
they merely sat there in a stunned silence. "Penfield is planning to
tack on additional charges for the sister's murder." He sighed and sat
back in his chair.  "Well, that's what I wanted to tell you.  I think
you can see why I wanted to tell you now and not wait for you to find
out in open court."

"Yeah," Josh said with a nod.

"You guys have any questions?"

Josh looked at Donna, who was quiet but seemed to be holding it
together. The only thing that worried him was the death grip she had
on his hand. "Donna?  You have any questions?"

It took Donna a moment to break through the shock of what she'd just
heard. "No, I don't think so."

"You ready to go?" Josh asked her.  She nodded and he pulled her
gently to her feet. "We're going to go, Mike." He said, shaking Mike's
hand. "Thanks for giving us the information."

"Thanks for coming by."

"Okay," Josh replied. Numbly, he led Donna out the door and back to
the elevator. The second they were alone in the elevator he pulled her
into his arms. Her arms were like steel bands around him but he didn't
think she was crying.  "I'm sorry you had to hear that," he whispered
into her hair. "You've already been through so much ugliness."

"No, Mike was right. It's better to hear it now. It was just
shocking," she whispered roughly.  "Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have to go back to work today?" she asked.

"No, why? What do you want to do?"

She pulled back and looked at him.  Her eyes were dry but a little
dazed. "I want to pick up Harley. I want to go home and take a hot
shower. I want to lay on the couch with you for a while and look at
the Christmas lights. Then I want to put on some music and dance with
you like we did that night at the farm."

He laid his hand gently on her cheek, "Then that's what we'll do."

"I love you," she said hugging him again. The feeling of his arms
around her was already helping to settle her.

He rested his cheek against her temple.  "I love you, too."

To Be Continued......



Chapter 40 - MATURE



Josh and Donna spent the first night of Hanukkah at the official
lighting of National Menorah. The tradition, which involved a
35-foot-high menorah - the tallest that Jewish law would allow, had
started in 1979 and was always held on the South Lawn of the White
House. Afterward, Donna had taken him out to dinner and then they'd
come home and lit the first candle on the menorah they had at home.

But tonight, they were staying at home, just the two of them. Donna
had managed to wrangle the recipe for latkes out of Josh's mom and as
soon as they finished lighting the candles, she was going to start
cooking. Tonight the latkes would be their main course, but for the
remaining nights, if Donna didn't completely botch cooking them that
is, they'd have them as a side dish. Josh didn't know what she had
planned for dinner and he also didn't know that she'd abandoned the
only "one Hanukkah present" rule they'd had when they'd been working
together.

Donna sat on the couch and watched as Josh used the shamash or
'servant' candle to light the candle for the second night of Hanukkah.
She'd switched off the Christmas tree lights so there would be nothing
to diminish the glow from the candles. Even with no other light
sources, the three small candles were not quite strong enough to do
more than cast a very faint light over the living room. After Josh put
the shamash candle back in its place, he turned and joined Donna on
the couch. "Well, here's where we see if I can improve over last
night," he said as he took her hand.

Last night, when they'd gotten back from the lighting ceremony Josh
had to actually read the blessing from the piece of paper he'd written
it on. But he'd practiced it this morning so he could hopefully do it
without the paper tonight. Slowly, in halting, but clear Hebrew, he
managed to get through it without getting out the paper. When he was
finished, he turned to looked at her, "Well, I'm sure Toby would have
something to mock about my delivery but..."

Donna gently laid her finger over her lips to stop him. "As you once
pointed out to me, Toby doesn't live here." She leaned in and removed
her finger.  "You did great." Replacing her finger with her lips, she
kissed him softly. "Now, hold that thought," she said with a grin.
"I'll be right back." Climbing off the couch, she disappeared into the
bedroom. Knowing her way through the apartment, even in the dark, she
went to the dresser where she'd hidden the package and brought it back
out to him. "Happy Hanukkah," she said setting the shirt sized box in
his lap.

Josh frowned slightly. "What's this?"

Donna smirked, "One could correctly surmise that my Happy Hanukkah
wishes would indicate it was a present for you for the second night of
Hanukkah."

His frowned remained. "But you already got me a Hanukkah gift, and, by
the way, if I haven't said it in the last five minutes, thank you
again," he said, looking over his shoulder at his gift from last
night. The shiny, black Rawlings baseball bat sat up on one of the
living room bookshelves. Mets player Mike Piazza's original autograph,
written in broad silver pen, caught even the low light from the
candles, causing it to really stand out against the dark wood.

"You're welcome, again," she replied, with a grin. "Now open your present."

"Well, that's what I was getting at.  You already got me my one
Hanukkah present and we agreed you wouldn't get me any more."

"No," she replied simply.

"No? Donna, when the President got elected you and I agreed that you
would only get me one Hanukkah present."

"Yes," she replied.

"Yes?" He hadn't been expecting that. "Umm...Donna....what?"

She loved when she got him all befuddled. "Yes, when the President got
elected and I was going to be working for you in the White House, I
agreed that I would only get you one present for Hanukkah and it would
be under $10."

"Which, and believe me when I say I'm glad because I love the bat, was
another rule you broke when you bought it for me, since I assume it
was more than $10.

"No."

"No? You mean it wasn't more than $10?" He managed to frown and smirk
at the same time.  "Donna? You didn't forge Mike Piazza's signature,
did you?"

She shot him a look that told him he was treading on thin ice, "I'm
going to forget you said that." Donna sighed.  "You know, Josh, you're
taking all the fun out of this."

He caught just the trace of hurt in her voice and he felt terrible
that he'd been the one to put it there. "Hey," he said, quietly.  "I'm
sorry. I really do love the bat and I'm sure that I'll love whatever
is in this box."

She looked at him for a moment.  "Well, I was talking in riddles just
to tease you and I probably shouldn't have." Resting her elbow on the
back on the couch, she rested her head against her hand. "What I was
trying to say is that yes, we did make that agreement when I worked
for you but I don't work for you anymore, so it no longer applies."

That had honestly not occurred to him.  Their 'agreement' had been
such a part of their Hanukkah/Christmas traditions he just hadn't
expected anything else. "Oh," he said, breaking into a smile.  "Well,
you do have a point there." His smile widened into a grin. "So that
would mean more Hanukkah presents for me?"

"Well, not if you ask anymore 'did you forge the signature on the
thing you gave me' questions. And for the record, no, I did not forge
his signature on the bat.  I bought it from an online, reputable,
memorabilia store through eBay. Now," she said, breaking into a smile
of her own. "Are you going to open your present or not?"

"Ah-kay," he said. Quickly ripping off the paper, he pulled the lid
off and folded back the tissue paper. Inside was a layer of
coin-shaped, gold foil covered chocolates, called gelt and under them
was a maroon sweatshirt. Something in white lettering was stitched on
the front but he couldn't quite make out the words in the low light.
Setting the box aside, Josh rose and walked over to the window where
the light from the menorah was brighter.  Reading the words, he
frowned and turned back to Donna.  "The University of New Hampshire?"
he said with a smile, even though he didn't quite understand the
rationale behind the gift. "Why the University of New Hampshire? The
President didn't even go there."

Donna looked at him from the couch, her face just visible in the
flickering light from the candles. "Well, I wanted something that
would be a reminder of our time at the farm in Manchester," she said
quietly. Then she broke into a grin.  "Plus I thought you could wear
it next time you get in trouble with the President."

"Always looking out for me, aren't you?" he said with a grin and slid
it over his head.  It was a perfect fit. He softened his voice to let
her know he also liked the idea of a memento of their time in New
Hampshire. "I love it."

"Good." Donna said as she got up from the couch and walked over to
him. Working his tie free, she gently slid it off. Then she reached up
and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a bemused smirk. He loved the
feeling of her hands on him.

She looked up at him, her eyes huge in the near darkness. "Just making
you more comfortable."

"Kay," he replied, still smirking.

Pulling the shirt collar out from under the edge of the sweatshirt
collar, she smoothed it back into place. The scent of him came wafting
up through his clothes and she couldn't resist pressing a kiss to the
newly exposed spot at the base of this throat. "How's that?" she said
with a smile.

He looked at her in the flickering light from the menorah candles. Her
smile was so luminous it shown with it's own light and her eyes had
that look that he knew she saved only for him. "Beautiful."

Donna recognized the look in his eye and she smirked at him, "I was
talking about the sweatshirt."

"I wasn't," he replied gently tracing the curve of her cheek with his
finger. His mouth followed his finger as he laid soft kisses along her
cheek and down to her mouth, which he devoured with a tender hunger.

When they parted a moment later, Donna had to take a steadying breath
before she could speak. "I've got one more surprise for you."

He smirked at her. "I don't know if either of us can take any