Limerance
Author: mdrgrl1
Summary: Nine years of not knowing.


Part 1

Rolling over in bed, I stretch my arm out until it makes contact with
the man lying next to me.  I feel his arm around my waist, pulling me
closer.  I snuggle against his warm body, my head tucked under his
neck.  Before his name escapes my lips in a long, morning sigh, I
catch myself.  My heart races.  He probably thinks I'm waking from a
nightmare.

This isn't the first time.

"Good morning," he whispers.

"Morning."  I pull away from him slowly so I can see his face.

I hate myself for a split second, wishing he was someone else.

*
I had no intention of starting a relationship before the end of our
second term.  In fact, I didn't want to get involved with a man at all
during our last four years in office.  I went on a date every three
months or so, but it never worked out.  He was either too short or too
tall; too skinny or too fat; too demanding or too passive.  The one
guy with whom I thought I might have a chance was mysteriously
transferred to Aviano Air Force Base.  Even he wasn't the "One".

I met Austin Wainwright at the Belmont Country Club six months ago.
Josh forced me to go to a dinner honoring North Carolina Senator Harry
Royce who was retiring.  I begged him to let me out of it.

"I'll work late on Saturday and Sunday, Josh."

"You already work late on Saturdays and Sundays," he'd grinned.

Six hours later, I was giving Austin Wainwright my phone number.

Senator Royce is Austin's uncle.  Growing up in Hilton Head, Austin
developed a passion for golf.  While he's nowhere near good enough to
be the next Tiger Woods, he refused to give up his love for the game.
After receiving his master's degree in landscape architecture from the
Graduate School of Design at Harvard, Austin became a golf course
architect.  He travels frequently, but he's lived in D.C. near the
Arboretum for the past five years.

Typically, I don't give my phone number to men upon meeting them.
Austin is the exception.  The first thing he said to me was, "You
usually meet the most interesting people at the hors d'oeuvres table."
 Just the week before, I told Carol the same thing.  He also admitted
he wasn't a politician, nor did he have any political aspirations.
That's always a plus.  Any time I date a man involved in politics, it
gets back to Josh, and he lists 14 reasons why I shouldn't be with the
man.  Finally, Austin told me he was going to Madison the following
week to draw up plans for a golf course.  We ended up chatting about
Wisconsin for the next hour, and I gave him my number in case he
wanted any restaurant recommendations.  Not once did he make a cheese
joke.

Austin resembles most men in the White House.  He wears charcoal suits
with red and blue power ties; his blond hair parts perfectly to one
side; his black wingtips are always polished; and his posture is
perfect.  When Austin smiles, he looks like the man in the Crest
commercials.  The only thing he doesn't have is dimples.

*
"Austin's here," Charlie announces with a huge grin.

I jump from my chair.  "He's here?"

Charlie nods.

"He can't be here.  Josh will flip!"  I nervously brush my hair with
my fingers, then straighten my skirt.  "You have to tell him to wait
outside."

"I just saw him in the lobby." Charlie hooks his thumb in that direction.

"Help me," I plead.

"Sorry.  I'm already late for a meeting with CJ.  She told me she was
going to hang me by my zipper if I was late again this week."  He
folds his arms.  "Is it my fault the President is long-winded?"

I grab him by the arm and drag him toward the lobby.  "We don't have
time to discuss the President, Charlie.  You have to tell Austin to
leave."

He stops abruptly.  "I'm not going to tell your boyfriend to leave.  I
stay out of situations like this."

"Charlie!"  I fold my hands together in a prayer-like manner, begging him.

He looks at his watch and sighs.  "I told you: I'm late."

"Donna!"  Austin calls.

Charlie looks at me and shrugs.  "Looks like you're on your own."
With that, he walks away.  I glare at him, but he doesn't turn around.

"Austin?  What are you doing here?"  I ask, smiling as best I can.

"I thought I'd surprise you with lunch."  He lifts a big, white bag
with "Zorba's" written in blue on the front.

He leans in to kiss me, but I pull away.  "That's thoughtful of you,
Austin, but--"

"If you're busy, I'll wait."

I begin walking back to my office, and Austin is only a step behind.

"I have a meeting in 15 minutes, and I'm not sure how long it will last," I say.

It's not that I don't want to have lunch with my boyfriend.  What he's
done is incredibly sweet and I'll thank him later, but Josh is due
back in 15 minutes.

"So we'll eat quickly," Austin says.

I smile at him.

When we pass Josh's office, I glance inside to make sure he hasn't
returned unexpectedly.  His office is just as disheveled as when he
left.  I breathe a sigh of relief.

"We should go to the Mess," I say.  "It's too cramped at my desk."

"I'm starving, Donna.  I don't care where we eat, let's just get to it."

We walk downstairs and sit at a table in the far corner.  Austin
spreads out the Greek food and tries to make small talk.  I give him
clipped answers, but I don't mean to be rude.

"Are you waiting for someone?" he asks.

"No.  Why?"

"You keep looking around the room, and you haven't been listening to
anything I've said."

I swallow.  "I've been listening."

He wipes his mouth with a napkin, then puts it back on his lap.
"Really?  What did I just tell you?"

I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.  "You told me I keep looking
around the room.  The reason --"

"That's not what I meant, Donna.  Before that.  What did I say?"

I bite my lower lip, then put down my falafel.  "I'm sorry.  I'm
distracted.  I have this meeting in ten minutes, and you showed up
unexpectedly.  I'm just a little off."

"Where's Josh?"  he asks.

"Who?"  Please let me have misunderstood.

"Your boss.  Where is he?"

My cheeks heat up, so I look down and shuffle the food on my plate.
"Josh's on the Hill."

"Then why are you so jumpy?"

"I'm not jumpy," I respond, putting my hands on my lap.  "Besides,
Josh won't be back for awhile."

"Are you sure?"  Austin dips a slice of pita into the hummus.  "Cause
that guy right there looks a lot like Josh."

I whip around to see Josh heading straight for us.

"Donna," Josh says, approaching the table with his hands in his
pockets and an exaggerated swagger.  He barely looks at me before
turning his attention to my lunch companion.  "Justin."

"It's Austin."  He stands, shaking Josh's hand.

Josh's sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, and the top button of
his shirt is undone.  His tie is in a loose knot at the base of his
neck.  His hair looks like he stuck his finger in an electrical
socket.

"Right.  Austin," Josh says, smirking.  "That's an interesting name.
Were your parents fond of Texas?"

Austin puts his hands on his hips.  "No, it's a family name."

"It's almost as unique as Donnatella," Josh says, crossing his legs
and leaning against the table.

Austin looks confused.  "Donnatella?"

"Josh," I warn.  "Can I have a word with you?"  I push out my chair,
and the scraping sound gets a few people's attention.

His smirk never diminishes as he follows me to the dessert section.

When we're out of earshot, I spin to face him.  "You're not going to
do this to me, Josh."

He cocks his head to the side.  "Do what, Donnatella?"

"This!"  I circle my arms in the air.  "You can't barge into my
relationship and shed light on little things like my real name."

"I just find it odd that this guy you've been dating for six weeks
doesn't know your real name." He shrugs.

"Six months, Josh," I respond rather loudly.  "I was going to tell him."

"When?"  He looks at me with a more serious expression.

"Does it matter?"  I raise my eyebrows.

I really don't want to get into this with Josh right now.  Or, you know, ever.

He takes a step closer to me.  "It's just something I think he should know."

"I didn't tell you what my real name was."

"Yes, you did," he says defensively.

"Sam told you."  I raise my head a little higher.

"Still."  Josh shifts to his right leg.  "I knew your real name five
days after meeting you."

"You counted?"

If I had looked away, I'd have missed his flushed cheeks.

I hear a man clearing his throat.  "Sorry to interrupt, Donna, but you
mentioned you had a meeting in 15 minutes.  It's been almost 20,"
Austin says.

I quickly turn to face him.  "Right."

I look at the two men.  Josh remains casual, while Austin straightens
his posture and rubs a hand down my arm.

The gesture isn't lost on Josh.  He lifts his chin a little higher.
"What meeting?"

"I'm going over some notes with Toby."

Josh nods, then looks at the man next to me.  "Austin."

"Josh."

"Thank God," I say under my breath when he's gone.

"Excuse me?" Austin asks.

I look at him.  "Nothing."

We walk back to the table, and I start putting the food back into the bag.

"I'm sorry I couldn't spend more time with you, Austin."

He steadies my hand, which causes me to look up.  "We'll reschedule."

"I'd like that."

"Tonight?" he asks.

I run my hands down my skirt.  "If I get out of here at a decent hour, sure."

Austin puts his hand on my cheek.  "Don't let him run you into the
ground, Donna."

I take a step back.  "We only have two months left."

Austin nods.

"Thank you for lunch."

He bends down and gives me a peck on the lips.  I can feel people staring.

"Bye," he says.  "I'll call you later."

I smile and watch Austin leave the room.

When he's gone, I shove my chair under the table and exit in a hurry.
How dare Josh barge in like that?

I go to the restroom to freshen up before heading back to the bullpen.
 I can still taste a hint of feta cheese, so I rinse my mouth with
water, then dab a little MAC gloss on my lips.  I find an Andes mint
in my purse, so I pop it in my mouth as I make my way to Josh's
office.

***
"I'll have someone look into it," Josh says into the phone.

He has no idea I'm in his office until I slam the door.  His head pops up.

I raise my eyebrows and cross my arms, hoping he recognizes the mood I'm in.

"Yes, Senator.  I understand.  Ok, I'll be in touch."  He hangs up.

"I was on the phone," he says.

"I noticed."

"So you just barge in here, slamming doors?"

"Yes."

He huffs and throws a pen on his desk.

"Did you have a nice lunch?"  There's a hint of disdain in his voice.

I step closer to his desk.  "You had to make an entrance."

"I was friendly."  He puts his hands behind his head and leans back.
His shirt gets caught on his biceps, exaggerating the definition.

"Why can't you just stay out of it, Josh?"  I stand next to him.

He swivels around to face me.  "I didn't know it was a big secret."

"It's not a secret - "

"Then why were you hiding in the Mess?"

I shift my weight.  "I wasn't hiding.  It's where most normal people
who work sane hours eat lunch."

"I didn't know you were so fond of the Mess.  We could've been having
lunch down there all these years."  He stands and walks to the
bookcase.

"Stop trying to change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject."  He glances back at me.  "It just
looked like you didn't want Austin in the building."

"Have you heard of privacy?"  I sit in his leather chair.

Josh raises his eyebrows.  "What are you doing?"

"Sitting."

He walks around the desk, nearly touching my legs.  "At my desk?"

"When we're in your office, you think you have all the power.  You sit
here and say things you normally wouldn't if we were, say, at my
apartment."

Josh smirks.  "When's the last time I was at your apartment?"

"That's not the point."  I feel my cheeks burning.

"Way before you started dating the capital of Texas."

"Again, not the point."

"Donna, get up," he says in a more serious tone.

"Not until you listen to me," I say, pulling the chair in.  I nod
toward the visitor's chair.

Josh sighs, but he follows my direction.  "You have exactly two
minutes."  He tilts his head back.  His Adam's apple protrudes, and
for the second time in two minutes, I'm distracted.

"I'm dating this guy, Josh.  He's nice and smart and successful."

He slowly lifts his head and looks at me.  "Does he make you laugh?"

"Sometimes."

"Does he make you think?"

I shrug.  "Sure."

Josh puts his elbows on his knees.  "Does he drive you crazy?"

Looking into Josh's eyes is sometimes hypnotizing.  They change
colors, depending on his mood.  Right now, they're almost black.

I look down.  "No."

Josh clenches his jaw.

Without knocking, Toby swings the door open. "Is Donna in here?"  He
looks at both of us, then focuses on me.  "Finally, you've taken
over."

I smile at him from my position behind Josh's desk.

"She only thinks she's taken over," Josh says.  His dimples are back.

"Do you want to meet in here or in my office?" Toby asks me.

"Let's go to your office."

He nods, then walks out.

Josh and I stand at the same time.  As I go around his desk, he
brushes my arm.  Even after nine years, an electric surge passes
through me.

"Donna," Josh calls.

I turn around with my hand on the door.  "Don't let him drive you crazy."

I take a deep breath, then walk away.

***
Josh has been acting strange the past few days.  He opens his mouth to
say something, then he closes it or walks away.  We frequently make
casual conversation, but Josh has avoided me unless he needs something
work related.

At the end of the day on Friday when the bullpen is nearly empty, I
see his reflection in the glass behind my desk.  He's standing in his
doorway, leaning against the jamb.  He looks pensive.  There are a few
lights on in the hallway, but it's much darker than normal.  The
brightest light is coming from a lamp in Josh's office behind him.  He
is backlit, which only serves to distinguish the lines of his body.

I try to finish filing the budget reports, but when I turn around,
Josh is still there.  I stand and walk toward him.  "Do you need
something?"

He takes a deep breath.  "My mom's coming in tonight."

I try to hide my surprise by looking at the floor.  "She usually calls
me when --"

"I asked her not to."

My head shoots up, and I catch Josh's eye.  It feels like he just
kicked me in the gut.  I look back down.  "Oh."

Josh's mother visits once a year.  For eight years, I spent at least a
couple of hours with her.  The shortest amount of time we spent
together was a two-hour lunch.  The most was a 12-hour day.  I
thoroughly enjoy Miriam's company, and I think she feels the same.
Knowing this is probably the last time I'll see her, it makes me
incredibly sad Josh tried to prevent it.

"Tell her I said 'hi'."  I wish I was better at hiding my
disappointment.  I turn and walk the few steps back to my desk.

"She wanted to, you know," Josh says.

I spin to face him with one hand on the glass partition.

He looks down, then back up at me.  "She wanted to call you," he whispers.

We stare at each other for a few seconds, then he walks back into his
office.  I see the lamp light go out and hear him turn off his
computer.  I watch Josh put on his coat.  He throws his backpack over
his shoulder, then stands where he was just minutes before.

"Good night," he says.

I give him a tight-lipped, saddened smile, and he walks out through
the swinging doors.  I'm left standing there in the dim light of the
hallway.

*
I'm thankful that filing is mindless.  I shove a few pages into a
black binder, turn the divider, then stick in a few more pages.  I
feel robotic.  I know I should leave, but I can't.  My hands keep
moving, and my mind keeps wandering back to Miriam's visit.  I wonder
if Josh told her about Austin.  I wonder if she made comments.  I
wonder if she really wanted to call me, and if so, how Josh managed to
stop her.

My cell phone rings, snapping me back to reality.

"Hello?"

"Donna."  My name comes out like an apology.

"Josh."  I echo his tone.

We sit in silence.  I hear cars whizzing by and the faint sound of the
radio.  Occasionally, I hear splashes of water.  I wonder if it's
still raining.

"When does she get in?" I ask.

"8:40."

I look at the clock on my computer: 8:32 p.m.

"Are you gonna get that?"

I hardly notice my phone ringing.  Or maybe I'm afraid of who it is.
"I guess I should."

I wait for the inevitable word "goodbye"; instead, I hear Josh's
breath through the receiver.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Josh."

"She wants to see you, Donna."  He pauses.  "I mean, she'd *love* to see you."

I try to disguise the catch in my voice.  "8:40?"

"Yeah," he says.

I don't have time to react to Josh's invitation before picking up the
other phone.  As expected, it's Austin.

"Are you on your way?" he asks.

"I'm sorry.  I should've called.  It's going to be a late night for me."

We were supposed to meet for sushi tonight.  We eat Japanese food
every Friday night, no matter how late I get home.  Austin had been in
Georgia for three days, and tonight was the first time I'd get to see
him since his return.

I hear his frustrated sigh.  "C'mon, Donna.  We had plans."

"I don't know what to say." I shrug.  "Tomorrow night, I promise."

"Tomorrow night, huh?  I guess I can get by with a frozen pizza."  I
can tell he's grinning.  "Call me later."

"I don't know if I'll be able to.  I'll call you in the morning.  I'm
sorry, Austin."

And I mean it.  I am sorry I can't see him tonight, but I have to see
Miriam Lyman.

I just have to.

End Part 1

Next:

Miriam walks back into the room.  She tops off my glass, then pours
the rest of the wine in hers.  Josh goes to sit in the armchair, but
Miriam beats him to it.  He's forced to join me on the sofa.

***
Note: I neglected to mention that this story exists in the same world
as "Genesis," "Exodus" and "February 26."

Limerance: Part 2

After finding a parking spot behind Josh's car, I brush my hair with
my fingers and dab a little gloss on my lips.

I'm not sure what to expect from Miriam.  I prepare a few questions
and answers in my head, but I carefully avoid thinking about Austin.
If she brings his name up, I know I'll blush.  It will make all of us
uncomfortable.

"Hi."  Josh answers the door in his work clothes, minus his suit
jacket and tie.  He's incredibly rumpled, but I've never known him to
keep a starched shirt, well, starched much past noon.  I wasn't
entirely sure he wanted me to come over, but I'm happy to see his
dimples.

I smile bashfully at him, then wipe my sweaty palms on my black wool
skirt.  "Hi."

"Mom, come in here," he yells.

Miriam peeks her head around the kitchen corner.  She's holding an
unopened bottle of wine.  When she sees me, her smile stretches across
her entire face.

"Oh, Donna."

Josh steps out of the way as Miriam comes barreling through the living
room.  She hands the wine to her son, and throws her arms around me.

"I can't tell you how great it is to see you," I say into her shoulder.

She pulls back and puts her hand on my cheek.  "You just did."

Miriam's face is as expressive as Josh's.  I can tell she's genuinely
surprised and happy to see me.  It looks like she's lost a little
weight.  She'd told me not too long ago that she'd joined a gym.  Her
hair is still in a short, gray bob, and her smile is still a thousand
watts.

"Don't just stand there, Joshua.  Pour us some wine!"  She playfully
hits his arm.

Josh watches at me for a few seconds, and I smile.  I can see him relax.

Miriam and I follow Josh into the kitchen.  She pulls out a chair for
me, then sits.

"How've you been?" I ask.

"Great.  In fact, I was just elected president of the condo
association.  No more 9 p.m. curfews," she says, rolling her eyes.
"It's like they think we're invalids.  I, for one, have a social
life."

"You're out more than I am," Josh says.  I hear the cork pop out of the bottle.

"That's not saying much, son."

I'm not normally a fan of red wine, but for the opportunity to sit
with Miriam and Josh Lyman, I'd drink curdled milk.  I was ridiculous
in preparing questions to ask Josh's mom.  As usual, our conversation
flows naturally.  She tells me stories about her protesting days,
books she's read and an article she got published.  Josh chimes in
with little anecdotes, making each story come alive.  When Miriam
begins telling stories of Josh growing up, we all laugh hysterically.

"When Josh was about four or five, we're not talking about a baby
here," Miriam says, putting a hand on my arm for emphasis.  "He used
to despise wearing underwear."

"Mom!"  Josh's cheeks redden.

I try hiding my grin with my wine glass, which is now full again.

Ignoring him, Miriam continues.  "I'll never forget when his friend
Gil called to show Josh his new go-kart.  Josh ran out of the house
without pants!"

"I can't believe you're telling her this," Josh says, still blushing.

I'm laughing so hard I nearly spill my wine.

"Should I tell Donna about the time your dress was unzipped at that wedding?"

"Heavens, no!" She pushes her chair back.  "I almost forgot.  I sat
next to this lovely man on the plane, and he gave me a CD.  Tony Lucas
or something."

"Tony Lucca?" I ask.

"Yes, that's it."  She points at me.  "You can have the CD."

"What about me?" Josh asks.

She shrugs.  "I'm sure Donna will let you borrow it."

Miriam walks away, and I turn to Josh.

"She's incredible," I say.

He raises his eyebrows.  "She adores you."

I bite my lower lip and look down.

"What happened to old-fashioned record players?" Miriam asks from the
living room.  "I need your help, son."

We both stand, and Josh puts his hand at the small of my back.  It
used to be a regular occurrence, but I can't remember the last time he
touched me like this.  It sends shivers down my spine.

Miriam is bending down, and three trays are open on Josh's electronic equipment.

"What the hell are you doing, Mom?"

She stands, handing him the disc.  "I have no idea."

I sit on the couch, and Miriam goes back into the kitchen to retrieve
her wine and what's left of the bottle.  I notice that Josh has barely
touched his.  I've nearly finished my second glass.

Josh stands to the left of the room, unwrapping the CD.  I'm thankful
I have a moment to look at him.  It's been a long time since I've just
watched Josh.  I still wonder how the man manages to get his clothes
so wrinkled.  While his hair is shorter than it used to be, it's still
a mess.  His jaw is clenched as he concentrates on removing the clear
wrapper from the disc.  I watch his hands work in short, precise
movements.

"Donna?" he calls.

"Hmm?"  I snap out of my reverie.

"Where've you heard this guy?"  He puts the CD in the stereo.

"I saw him in concert a couple of years ago.  Carol had tickets."

Miriam walks back into the room.  She tops off my glass, then pours
the rest of the wine in hers.  Josh goes to sit in the armchair, but
Miriam beats him to it.  He's forced to join me on the sofa.

We talk about our plans when the administration ends in a couple of
months.  I tell Miriam about my classes at Georgetown and the
opportunity to work with a renowned political science professor.  She
asks questions, but I have a feeling she knows all of this already.
Josh talks about Matt Santos, and his eyes widen.  I haven't seen him
this excited since our first year in the White House.

"Is your heater broken, Josh?" I ask, pulling my legs under me and
tucking my hands under my armpits.

"Are you cold?"  He reaches back and pulls a blanket from the back of the sofa.

I feel Miriam's gaze on us as Josh opens the blanket and places it
over my legs and on part of his lap.

"This music is nice," she says.

I don't think Josh heard his mom.  He's too busy tucking the blanket
under my legs.

"It is," I respond.  I lean forward to get my wine glass from the
coffee table.  "He writes his own music.  I think I remember him
saying the reason he wasn't more popular is because he won't change
his lyrics for the big music labels."

"Is that what they do?" Miriam asks.

I feel Josh's hand on my foot under the blanket.  I swallow hard.  "I
think so," I say.

"Then good for him!  I don't think anyone should have to change their
lyrics just to make a few extra bucks."

I'm not sure if it's the wine or the feel of Josh's warm hand on my
ankle, but I slowly stretch my legs.  They stop when they hit the side
of his right thigh.  He squeezes both of my feet with one hand.

"It's more than 'a few extra bucks'," Josh says.  "It's more like a
couple million."

I'm thankful Josh spoke, because I don't think I could.  His thumb is
running over the top of my foot.  I'm not cold any more.

Miriam leans forward, presumably to look at the clock.  "Is it
midnight already?"

"Yeah."  Josh's voice is almost sad.

"My, how time flies when I'm with both of you."  She smiles, then
stands.  "Don't let me run you off, my dear.  I'm going to get ready
for bed."

As much as I don't want to, I stand.  Josh's expression is blank.  The
hand that was rubbing my feet lies open next to his leg.

"It was so good to see you, Miriam."  I hug her.

"You too, Donna."  She touches my cheek.  "Thank you for stopping by."

I lean into her touch.  "It was a pleasure."

Miriam goes into the spare bedroom, and I'm left standing in the
middle of the living room.  I feel Josh's hand on my shoulder.

"You made her day," he whispers.

I turn to face him.  "She made mine."

He lets his hand slide all the way down the back of my arm until it
reaches my hand.  Our pinky fingers lock, and he pulls me toward the
door.

"Thank you for coming."

"You're welcome."  I blush at the sound of my voice.  It's much lower
than I expected.  I let go of Josh's hand and open the door.

"No work tomorrow," he says.

"Really?"

"I'll be with my mom all day.  I'll see you Tuesday."  He grins.

"Wow.  An actual weekend."  I smile back at him.

"What can I say?  I'm a generous boss."  His grin widens.

I'm captivated by his dimples.  "Good night, Josh."

"Night," he says.

I hear the door close behind me.

My head is spinning.  I'm not sure if it's because of the wine or
because of the way Josh touched me.  It bothers me that his innocent
touch is more significant to me than Austin's warm embrace.  I try
putting those thoughts aside.

It's got to be the wine.

End Part 2

Next:
I keep reminding myself that I have nothing to be guilty of (as Barry
Gibb and Barbara Streisand run through my mind.)  I didn't do anything
wrong last night.  I spent a few quality hours with Miriam Lyman.  So
what if her son fondled my feet?

You like?  Mdrgrl1@aol.com

****
Notes:  There are any number of reasons why I dislike John Wells.  The
one that's at the forefront of my mind is his reintroduction of Josh
and Donna's past lovers.  Cliff and Amy seemed to have served no
purpose in season six.  I wanted to like those characters, and I still
have high hopes for Cliff, but to what end are they on our show?  My
point:  I am not John Wells, and I do not intend to torture Josh/Donna
fans.  I'm giving you permission to like Austin.  Read without fear.
That's all I'll say.

Limerance: Part 3

Saturday Night

Guilt rages in the pit of my stomach as I drive to Austin's house
tonight.  I keep reminding myself that I have nothing to be guilty of
(as Barry Gibb and Barbara Streisand run through my mind.)  I didn't
do anything wrong last night.  I spent a few quality hours with Miriam
Lyman.  So what if her son fondled my feet?  I was cold.  Josh was
simply keeping me warm.

I wish I could erase the memory of how his hands felt against my feet,
the way he clenched his jaw when I looked at him, the way his dimples
danced when we said good night.

When I arrive at Austin's door, I promise myself not to allow thoughts
of my boss to surface.  I owe Austin that much.

"Hey!  Come in," he says, taking my hand.

The first thing I notice is that "I'll Melt with You" is blaring
throughout the house.  The second thing is that Austin is wearing
jeans and a faded blue long-sleeved shirt with a couple of small holes
in it.  I've never seen him in jeans as long as I've known him, and I
have certainly never seen him in a shirt that should be used as a
dusting rag.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Before you came, I was dancing in my socks."  He pulls me into the living room.

"You've been watching too much Footloose or Risky Business."  I feel
his forehead to see if a fever has caused this madness.  "What have
you done with my boyfriend?"

Austin shrugs.  "I thought I'd try a change of pace.  We're always so
formal."  He looks down.  "I'm always so formal.  I wanted to show you
I can actually have fun."

I lift his chin.  "What are you talking about?  We have fun."

"Yeah, but not this kind of fun."  He turns the stereo louder, grabs
my hands and dances with me.

My laughter stops when a Japanese man walks into the living room.

"Mr. Wainwright, excuse me.  You ready for appetizer?"

"Yes, Yuki.  We'll be there in a second."  Austin faces me again.
"Last night was the first time we've missed our sushi night.  I don't
know about you, but I'm dying for a rainbow roll."

I'm sure my eyebrows appear to be attached to my hairline.  "You hired
a sushi chef?"

"I did."  He leads me into his dining room where an elaborate table is
already set.  Yuki pours a cup of hot sake, then presents a bowl of
miso soup.

I am utterly speechless.  Austin has never been spontaneous or casual
in the six months I've known him.  While we've enjoyed each other's
company, we've never had an all-out good time.

"Should I turn the music down?" he asks.

"No.  I like it."  I smile at him.  "You did all of this for me?"

"I'm benefiting from it too, you know," he says.  "So this is what it
feels like to 'let your hair down'?"

I laugh.  "Something like that.  Yeah."

We enjoy a two-hour meal, laughing and talking about everything from
80s music to the Buddhist aesthetics of Japanese cuisine.  I'm
witnessing a side of Austin that I'm surprised yet happy to see.

When dinner is over, Austin puts an actual record on.  "This was my
grandfather's record player."

"It's lovely."

He sits next to me on the sofa as Ella Fitzgerald belts out "I Got it Bad."

It doesn't take long for Austin to divest me of my clothing.  For the
first time, I don't think of Josh once when we make love.  Not his
biceps or his dimples or the way his lip used to catch under mine when
we kissed.  Instead, I think of what I mean to the man on top of me.

*

For the next two weeks, I'm completely invested in my relationship
with Austin.  He showers me with affection, surprises me with gifts
and impromptu meetings, and devotes all of his free time to making me
happy.

Josh, on the other hand, is insufferable.  I refuse to stay at work
past 9 p.m., so I take as many files home with me as I can.  I don't
confront him about it for fear of it leading into territory I'd just
as soon avoid.

When the holidays roll around, Austin takes up even more of my time.
Needless to say, the more my relationship grows with him, the closer
we become, the more my relationship with Josh becomes stilted and
awkward.  Fortunately, between him splitting time working for
President-elect Matt Santos and me being busy in the evenings, we
don't see each other much.

Since Santos won the election in November, Josh has taken Mondays off.
 Santos appointed him as the domestic affairs advisor, a position
created exclusively for Josh.  Josh asked me to work with him, but I
refused.

Josh's offer isn't the only one I've turned down.  In fact, I had
three job proposals, including working with Sam in California.  I
decided instead to focus on my education.  This fall, I began taking
evening classes at Georgetown and working with Dr. Warren Hewlitt, a
professor in the political economy department, as a junior research
assistant.  When the new semester begins in late January, I'm
switching to full-time day student.

I accompany Austin to parties for friends as well as business
associates.  He's joined me at a few political functions to which I
was invited in my own right - a comforting sign that I am no longer
seen as just an extension of Josh.  It's also encouraging when not
just a few people make subtle inquiries about my future employment
options. These parties are usually big enough that Josh, Austin and I
aren't forced into close quarters.  The one party where we won't be
able to avoid each other is CJ's annual holiday shindig, providing all
three of us attend.

CJ has been fond of Austin since the first time they met at an art
exhibit.  The reason she likes him so much, she'd told me, is because
he never discusses politics in social situations.  It isn't that
Austin *can't* discuss politics; he simply won't.

It was my understanding Josh would not be at the party.  We never
discussed it at work, but Charlie mentioned Josh was skipping the
festivities this year.  Imagine my surprise when I walk into CJ's
living room and come face-to-face with Josh.

"Hi."

"Hey," he replies.  His eyes dart from me to Austin.  "I'd shake your
hand, Justin, but mine are full."  He lifts the bowl of peanuts and
two beers.

"You know his name, Josh," I say.

Austin, ignoring my attempt to make Josh refer to him by his proper
name, grabs the peanuts from Josh.  "Need some help with that?"

"I didn't, but -"

"Austin, let's find CJ," I interrupt.

Josh can be such a jackass.  And how dare he wear those Levi's?  I
think he had a haircut today as well.  It's hard to tell with so
little of it left, but something about his hair is different.

An hour into the party, CJ is drunk.  She's sitting on the arm of her
sofa with her bare feet resting on the cushion.  Austin sits next to
her while Toby hands her more eggnog.

"Do you remember that time we were at the art exhibit?" she asks.

Austin smiles.  "When you spilled your wine on the sculpture?"

"Yes!"  She bangs her hand against the back of the sofa.

"You didn't want me to clean it because you said it looked like the
sculpture had red toenail polish," he says, laughing.

"That was classic," I say, settling in next to Austin.

As soon as he puts his hand on my leg, I look at Josh, who is in what
appears to be a serious conversation with Charlie.  When Josh turns
around, he clenches his jaw.  I do my best to ignore him.

"What about the time at the golf course?" Austin asks oblivious to
what's going on between me and Josh.

CJ looks confused.  "I don't remember anything bad happening there."

"You peeled out on the green with the golf cart," he says.

"Doesn't sound like Donna and Austin will be issuing any invitations
to you in the near future, Claudia Jean," Toby chimes in.

"They think I'm fun," CJ says.  "Don't you think I'm fun?"  She looks at Austin.

"I think you're great fun," he replies.

"I'm going to get another drink.  Anybody need anything?"  I ask, standing.

They all shake their heads.  I walk into the kitchen to get another
glass of eggnog, and I sneak onto the patio.

With all of the action in the living room and kitchen, it's nice to
have a little peace and quiet.

"If I'd known hiring a sushi chef would make you smile, I'd have taken
Japanese cooking classes a long time ago."

I turn around to see Josh leaning against the open door with a beer in hand.

"You've made me smile plenty of times."

He approaches me with one hand in his pocket.  "Not like he does."

I want to tell him that he can make me smile just by flashing his
dimples or strutting down a hallway.  He can look at me with those
dark brown eyes, and my face will light up.  Instead, I turn my back
to him and stare at what appears to be a Christmas tree in the house
across the street.

"Aren't you cold out here?"

I shake my head.  "My sweater is warm."

I hear Josh sigh behind me.  He places his beer on the ledge.  "Do you
remember the note I gave you?"

"Which one?"

"The one about there being only three years left?"

"Vaguely," I lie.

I hear him huff.  "I was wrong."

"Josh, let's not do this."

He takes a step closer to me, but I still refuse to face him.

"I'm admitting I'm wrong.  I thought you'd find some satisfaction in that."

"I'd never find satisfaction in your pain," I whisper, lowering my head.

He steps next to me and lowers his head until we're at eye level.  "I waited."

"You waited?" I ask.  "Weren't you in the middle of a relationship
with Amy when you gave me that damn note?"

He raises his voice.  "That *damn* note?"

"I can't help that I ended up in a relationship, Josh.  I didn't plan
the timing of this thing."  I can feel my cheeks burning.

"To hell with waiting nine years, right, Donna?"  Josh's eyes are nearly black.

"I think you've had too much to drink," I say in a calm voice.

"I've had three beers all night."  He steps so close to me I can smell
the beer on his breath and the cologne I bought him for his birthday
last year.

"I told you: I'm not doing this here."

He throws his hands in the air.  "Fine.  Let's go back to my place and
discuss it."

I let out an incredulous chuckle.  It kills me that he knows exactly
why I couldn't go back to his place.

"You knew where this conversation would lead, Josh.  Why are you out
here?"  I feel the sting of tears in my eyes.

He gulps.  "Because it's as uncomfortable as hell in there."

I lift my head high and try not to blink.  "I'm not going to apologize
for my relationship with Austin."

Josh takes my hand in his.  I notice his glassy eyes.  "I don't want
you to apologize, Donna," he whispers.  "Just know that I waited."
With a final squeeze of my hand, he walks inside.

I'm stuck alone on the patio with tear-stained cheeks and an
incredibly strong ache in the pit of my stomach.

How dare Josh insinuate that he waited nine years to be with me?  He
dated several people during our time in office.  He didn't wait.  It
just so happens that he's not involved right now.  I wonder if he'd
feel the same if Amy was around.  She tends to make him forget about
the waiting.

I step inside without being seen to get my purse.  I find a Kleenex
and blow my nose until it's nearly raw.  Taking a deep breath, I open
my wallet and pull out a tattered piece of paper and read the words to
myself:

Three more years, Donnatella.

Love,
Joshua

It was the first and only time he used the word "love".  I wonder if
he meant it.

My thoughts drift to Austin, who's probably wondering where I am.  I'm
sure he's listening to CJ tell stories about her first year as press
secretary; stories she enjoys sharing when she's had a few to drink.
One of the things I like most about Austin is he doesn't need to be
the center of attention.  He likes listening.  When he has opinions,
he expresses them, but he's willing to hear both sides of any story.

"Donna?"

"I need to be alone right now, Austin."  I quickly shove the paper
back in my purse.

"I'm convinced things would've worked out differently for me if I was
tall, blond and wealthy."

I quickly turn around to see Toby standing in the doorway.  "Toby."  I
lower my head, embarrassed by my tears and red nose.

"I didn't think you could do it," he says, shoving one hand in his pocket.

"Do what?"

He grins.  "We've come a long way since shooting tequila in a rural
bed & breakfast."

I blush.

I've never forgotten the moment Toby walked into the bar at the Stone
Creek Inn.  Josh and I couldn't keep our hands off each other.  I
remember my body feeling alive.  For about ten minutes, I didn't care
where I was.  Then Toby walked in, and I had to care.  It was one of
the saddest, most humiliating days of my life.  In all our years
working together, Toby never brought it up - until today.

"That was a long time ago."  I feel weak, so I sit in the closest chair.

"It was."  He hands me the eggnog I'd forgotten on the ledge.  "Five
years ago, Andi asked me to go to counseling.  I thought she was
crazy."  He huffs, then takes a sip of whiskey.  "She asked me again a
few weeks later, and again a few weeks after that.  I told her we
didn't need a shrink to tell us how to be a successful couple.  She
suggested we make New Year's resolutions.  Mine was to be a better
husband.  Hers was to stop complaining that I was flawed."

Toby sits on the edge of the chair next to me and stares into the
distance.  "Two years after that, Andi was pregnant.  I told her I'd
go to counseling.  Then I bought her dream house."  He swirls the
amber liquid in his glass.  "She didn't want any of it."

"I'm sorry, Toby."  I touch his arm.

"It's not too late for you, Donna."

We sit in silence for a few minutes.

Although Toby is usually hard to read, I can see regret on his face.
He stands, offering me his hand.  "CJ's about to do 'The Jackal.'  I
figured you wouldn't want to miss it."

For the first time all night, I smile genuinely.  "I haven't seen her
do that in years."

"Considering her state of inebriation, I'm sure it'll be a crowd
pleaser."  Toby gives me a half-smile.

I take his hand and walk inside.  "Just give me a minute.  I need to
freshen up a bit."

Toby nods, and I make my way to the bathroom.

Just before I step inside, Charlie stops me.  "Hey.  Have you seen Josh?"

I lower my head.  "No."

"That's strange."  Charlie scratches his head.  "We were in a
conversation, he went to get another beer and I haven't seen him
since."

"Sorry, Charlie."  I step into the bathroom and shut the door.

I splash cold water on my face to try reducing the swelling around my
eyes.  Looking at myself in the mirror, I realize I should not be in
public right now.

"Donna?"  I hear a knock.  "Are you in there?"

I open the door, and Austin is standing there with a look of concern
on his face.  "Hi."

"Are you ok?  Charlie said you looked upset."  He touches my cheek.

"Just take me home, Austin."

He puts his arm around my shoulders and ushers me into the living
room.  I watch him talk briefly with CJ, then hug her.  He shakes Toby
and Charlie's hands, grabs our coats and meets me at the front door.
"Let's get out of here."

The drive home is mostly quiet.  Austin asks me what's wrong, but I
refuse to answer.  He tells me stories about CJ's drunkenness and
Margaret's strange ability to recite "The Night Before Christmas"
backwards.  I appreciate his attempts to make me laugh, but all I can
muster is a half-smile.

I've had only one thought on the ride home: Josh.  After our
conversation tonight, I'm not sure if I can even work with him for the
remaining month. I sigh with a bit of relief, knowing he won't be at
work on Monday.

When we get inside, Austin draws a bath for me in his jacuzzi tub.  A
Vivaldi concerto pipes through the bathroom speakers, and Austin
offers me iced water with lemon.  He lets me soak for a few minutes
before knocking.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah."  My voice is weak.

Austin is wearing navy silk pajamas and his hair is wet.  He must've
showered in the spare bathroom.

"Feeling better?" he asks.

"Yes, thank you."

He dabs a cold washcloth on my forehead, and I close my eyes.

"Do you need anything?"

I sit up in the tub and open my eyes.  Taking his hand in mine, I
reply, "Just you."

Austin leans in and kisses me.  I release him so I can get out of the
tub.  He helps me dry off, then takes me into the bedroom.  I don't
bother putting pajamas on; rather, I crawl into his bed, waiting for
him to join me.

My attempts at putting Josh out of my mind are futile.  I close my
eyes and feel the familiar weight on top of me.  I lift my hand to his
chest, hoping to feel that scar.  When I feel smooth skin, I open my
eyes.  I see a man staring back at me with intense adoration.

"I love you," he whispers.

Austin has never uttered those words until this moment, but I've known
for months.  Still, it doesn't ease the shock.  I give him my best
smile, then pull him closer.

"I love you too."  I shut my eyes and see only one face.

It's not the man in this bed.

For the first time, I admit to myself that I'm lost.

End Part 3

Next:
"I mean, the feelings you had for Josh when you were, what 25, are
probably not the feelings you have for him now."

I haven't touched my soup.  "Right."

"You're with Austin now.  Josh knows that."  She stabs a piece of
lettuce and ham with her fork.  "He might whine about it, but he's in
no position to hold some verbal agreement you made ages ago over your
head."

Will write for love:  mdrgrl1@aol.com

***
Previously:
My attempts at putting Josh out of my mind are futile.  I close my
eyes and feel the familiar weight on top of me.  I lift my hand to his
chest, hoping to feel that scar.  When I feel smooth skin, I open my
eyes.  I see a man staring back at me with intense adoration.

Limerance: Part 4

It's been a long time since CJ and I spent quality time together.  We
used to have a standing spa date just before the holidays.  This year,
we had to cancel.  Instead, we've decided to go to lunch together as
often as possible.  Since her promotion, that's been once.

"My 12 o'clock just canceled," CJ says, walking toward my desk.  "Do
you want to grab something?  I'm dying for a Cobb salad from that
place down the street."

I turn my chair to face her.  "That sounds good."

"Meet me at my office at noon."

My phone rings.

"See you then," I say before picking it up.

"Josh Lyman's office."

"It's me," Josh says.

This is the first time we've spoken since CJ's party Saturday night.
I feel a familiar pull in my chest, but I don't let Josh sense it.

"Do you need something?" My tone is sharp.

"I'm at the airport.  The Congressman and I flew to Houston yesterday
morning and I'm on my way back."

"Short trip," I comment, tapping the tip of a pencil against my desk.

"He's got a shitload to do here, but I have to get back to DC today."
In the background I hear someone asking passengers to turn off their
cell phones.

"I've farmed everything out, Josh.  There's really no need for you to
rush back."

"There is," he states.  "Hang on."  I hear him pull the phone away
from his mouth.  "I'll just be another minute."  His voice returns to
the line.  "You there?"

"Yes.  As I was saying --"

"I need to see you, Donna."

My heart sinks.  "You'll see me tomorrow."

"I can't wait that long."

I don't know what to say, so I remain silent.  I put my head in my
hand and lean against my desk, hoping no one notices the blush
crawling from my chest to my face.

"Come to my place at seven.  I gotta go. The flight attendant looks
like she's going to hurt me."

With that, the line goes dead.

I try to compose myself, rubbing my hands down my skirt and fixing my hair.

I know what Josh is going to do.  Or what he thinks he's going to do.
In his own way, he's going to apologize for his comments Saturday
night.  He's going to remind me about his sensitive system and blame
everything on the alcohol.  The guilt is eating him up inside, so he
thinks he'll win me over with a flash of his dimples and a few kind
words.

His charm won't work this time.

***
CJ and I find a booth by the window in the small deli around the
corner from work.

Coming here reminds me of my second year at the White House.
Immediately after Josh returned to work after Rosslyn, I'd come here
at least twice a week to get him soup or salad.  He'd complain about
"eating like a vegan" until I explained what vegan's ate.  Then he
settled for "eating like a vegetarian" until I proved there was
actually chicken in the chicken noodle soup.  I'll admit I replaced
the chicken with tofu on a few of his sandwiches, but he never knew.

"CJ, I have a problem," I say after ordering lemonade.

"Is it a big problem like tax evasion, or are we talking about not
having the right shoes to match a dress sort of problem?"

"Something in between."  I smile at her.  "It's Josh."

CJ looks up from the menu.  "This can't be good."

"Hence the word 'problem'."

She takes a big sip of Diet Coke before proceeding.  "Go on."

"We're here as friends, right?  I mean, in less than a month, we won't
work together," I say.

"That's kind of depressing."  CJ tilts her head.

"It is."  I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

She reaches across the table and touches my hand.  "We're here as
friends, Donna.  No matter what you tell me, I'll hold you in the
highest regard."

Does CJ think Josh and me did something inappropriate during our time
in the White House?  I give her a quizzical look.  "Ok."  I hope she
hears the worry and hesitation in my voice.

"You should start from the beginning," she says.

I look at my watch.  "I don't think we have enough time."

She chuckles.  "Give me the abridged version."

I take a deep breath.  "When we were campaigning, Josh and I...slept together."

CJ's eyes look like they're going to pop out of her head.

"If this is uncomfortable or inappropriate, I can-"

"No, it's fine.  I just didn't expect you to get it out that quickly."

"You knew?"  My eyebrows shoot up.

She shrugs.  "I suspected.  You both did a good job of hiding it, but
it's hard to conceal those kinds of feelings from people you're with
24/7."

I look her in the eyes.  "It was only that one time, CJ."

"I believe you."  She gives me a tight-lipped smile.

"We agreed not to...you know...until the end of the administration."
I wipe my sweaty palms with the napkin on my lap.  "But every year, on
the date we did...that, Josh would do something special for me.  He
never forgot."

"Josh can be a dolt sometimes, but I always knew he had a sensitive side."

"He'd kill me if he knew I showed this to you."  I open my wallet and
pull out the note Josh wrote in 2003.

"Hey, that's a page from my day planner!"

I grin.  "I forgot about that part."

CJ reads the note silently, then hands it back to me.  "Wow."

"Yeah."

"Well," she says.

"Not something you'd expect from Josh," I say.

"I guess those three years are up."  She folds her hands on the table.

"That's the problem."  I sigh.  "The other night at your party, Josh
confronted me about the note."

Her eyebrows shoot up.

I look at my hands and realize I'm twisting my fingers.  I place my
palms flat on my lap.  "He made some valid points.  We had an
agreement, CJ.  But now I'm with Austin so -"

"You can't hold up your end of the bargain," she states, nodding her head.

"Exactly."

She swallows a mouthful of salad.  "Just because you made a pact eight
or nine years ago doesn't mean you feel the same.  A lot has changed
since then."

I lower my head.  "That's true."

"I mean, the feelings you had for Josh when you were, what 25, are
probably not the feelings you have for him now."

I haven't touched my soup.  "Right."

"You're with Austin now.  Josh knows that."  She stabs a piece of
lettuce and ham with her fork.  "He might whine about it, but he's in
no position to hold some verbal agreement you made ages ago over your
head."

"CJ, I'm in love with Josh."

And there it is.  For the first time in my life, I admit my feelings
out loud in a crowded deli to the Chief of Staff for the President of
the United States.

I feel like I've been holding my breath underwater for hours, and I'm
finally allowed to come up for air.  My cheeks burn and my body is
clammy.  I feel sweat beading above my lip.  I try concentrating on
the sounds of glasses clanking and plates being set down on the wooden
tables.  I'm about to faint.

CJ reaches an arm out to steady me.  "Donna?  Are you all right?"

I put my elbows on the table and cradle my head in my hands.  After
taking a few deep breaths, the dizziness subsides.  "I've never said
that out loud."

When I'm able to look up, CJ's face looks more like Gail than any
human expression.

"I'm used to zingers coming my way, especially when I was press
secretary, but I don't know how to react to that."

"Neither do I."  I bury my face in my hands again.

"That took a lot of guts."

I don't respond.

"Donna?  Sweetie?"  CJ wraps her hand around my wrist until I uncover
my face.  "I've known it for a long, long time."  She smiles.  "I just
thought when Austin came along, you, I don't know, changed your mind."

I huff.  "I wish it were that easy."

"Does he know?"

I shake my head.  "On Saturday night, Josh told me he waited.  He made
me feel like crap because I was the one who would prevent us from
being together."

"First of all," CJ begins.  "Forget about the pact.  It was cute, but
it's unrealistic."

"I know it was a long time ago, but-"

She holds up her hand.  "If you want to be with Josh, be with him
because you're in love, not because you said you would after having
sex with him nine years ago."  She cocks an eyebrow.  "He must've been
damn good."

I grin.

"I have no idea how he feels about me."

"Are you kidding?"  She bangs her hand on the table, making the salt
and pepper shakers jump.  "The man is pathetically, hopelessly,
nauseatingly in love with you!"

I blush.  "I don't think so, CJ."

"You're too blind to see it.  Ask Toby.  Ask Margaret or Carol or
hell, even Leo."

"They all know?"

She shrugs.  "He flew to Germany to be by your side.  He didn't sleep
for nearly three days."  She grabs my hand.  "I've never seen a man
more in love than Josh was during that time."

I squeeze her hand.  "We've never discussed it."

"That doesn't surprise me," she sighs.  "Josh is a master of avoiding issues."

I drain my glass of lemonade.  "What about Austin?"

"You thought that getting involved with Austin would change the way
you feel about Josh."  CJ puts her credit card over the bill and asks
the waiter for my soup to go.  "I read this quote once: 'The worst sin
passion can commit is to be joyless.'  You tried, Donna."

"I can't do this to him."

CJ looks me in the eyes.  "Donna, you can't do this to yourself."

I let out a long breath.  "I don't know if I can go back to work today."

"I'm demanding that you take the afternoon off.  Go to a spa.  Relax.
Besides, Josh isn't at work today."

"That reminds me," I say.  "Josh called right before lunch and asked
me to come over tonight.  He said it was important."

CJ stands.  "Are you going to go?"

"I don't know."  I put on my coat.

She rubs her hand down my back.  "That jackass has no idea how lucky he is."

End Part 4

Next:
Josh faces his palms up and shrugs.  "We've been spinning our wheels
for the last nine years, hoping we'd stumble into someone who was half
as fascinating as we are to each other."

If you're ready for the delivery, e-mail me:  Mdrgrl1@aol.com

***
Previously:
"CJ, I'm in love with Josh."

And there it is.  For the first time in my life, I admit my feelings
out loud in a crowded deli to the Chief of Staff for the President of
the United States.

Limerance: Part 5

It's 7 p.m., and I'm staring at the antique clock my grandmother gave
me before she died.  There's something soothing about watching the
long hand move.

I'm supposed to be at Josh's condo right now.  After such a strenuous
day, I'm strongly considering staying home.  I left a message for
Austin about an hour ago, but he has yet to return my call.  Before I
do anything, I need to speak with him.

When the phone rings, I'm afraid it's Josh, wondering where I am.

"Hello?"

"How was your day?"

I sigh.  "Emotionally draining."

"That bad?" he asks.

I twist the phone cord around my finger.  "Austin, I need to talk to you."

He hesitates before speaking.  "Can we discuss it over the phone?"

"I'd prefer to talk to you in person."

"Is everything all right?"  I hear the concern in his voice.

"Yeah.  It's just..."  I pause.  "Can I come by tomorrow night?"

"It sounds important, Donna.  Maybe I should come over now," he says.

"No," I quickly reply.  "I'd rather talk with you when I'm more, I
don't know, mentally aware.  I'll stop by your house around eight
tomorrow night."

"Are you sure you're ok?"

I rub my head and sigh.  "I'm just tired.  I'll see you tomorrow."

I hang up feeling incredibly guilty.  Here's this man who would do
anything for me.  He's treated me like a queen since the moment I met
him, and he has no idea I'm about to break up with him.  I don't want
words flying out of my mouth without first having carefully thought
about what I'm going to say.  My stomach hurts just thinking about it.

I look at the clock again:  7:10 p.m.  I wonder if Josh thinks I'm not
coming over.  Hell, I haven't convinced myself.  After the day I've
had and the things I admitted, it's probably wise for me to stay put.

I stand and stretch.  I didn't realize how twisted my back was until I
hear it pop twice.  I take a couple of laps around my apartment,
trying to distract myself.  I flip through a magazine; put a glass in
the dishwasher; hang up my jacket; then walk into my bedroom.  I look
at my reflection in the mirror.  I don't have any makeup on, my hair
is in a ponytail and I'm wearing old gray sweats with a white t-shirt.
 I look like hell.

I walk back into the living room and get my keys to check my mailbox.

Somehow I end up in my car, and before I know it, I'm standing in
front of Josh's building.  I take my time walking up the steps,
thinking about the many times we sat here when he was recovering.  A
small smile spreads across my face.

When I knock on his door, I realize I'm an hour late.

"And you say my watch sucks?" Josh asks with a grin.

He's wearing black Nike sweat pants and a red short-sleeved wrinkled
t-shirt.  If it weren't for his receding hairline and the small lines
at the corner of his eyes, I'd assume he was a teenage boy.

"It does."

The fact that Josh doesn't touch me when ushering me into his condo is telling.

"Can I get you a something to drink?"  He rubs his hands on the side
of his pants.

"No."  I stand next to the sofa, waiting for Josh to sit first.

Once he does, I sit as far away from him as possible.  Being
physically close to Josh tends to make me nervous.

"Before you start, Josh, I want to explain why I'm here."  I brush a
piece of hair behind my ear.

He looks tentative.

"You said some things Saturday night I'm sure you didn't mean.  You
can't take those words back --"

"Wait," he interrupts.  "You think I asked you here so I could apologize?"

"Didn't you?"  My eyebrows are probably touching my hairline.

He smirks.  "Yeah, I did.  I just wanted to see your reaction."

"Josh!"  I hit him on the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"This isn't funny."  I pout.

He raises his hands in the air.  "Ok, I'm sorry.  I was joking."

I fold my arms.

"Donna."  Dammit, there's that soft voice that gets me every time.

Josh scoots closer to me and puts his hand on my arm.  Electricity
shoots through my body.  Even when Austin and I had sex, he never made
me feel the way Josh does with one innocent touch.

"This better be good," I say, focusing on his face.

Josh moves to the edge of the sofa like he's gearing up for a speech.
His posture is perfect, and his hands are already in motion.

"Saturday night, I came home and drank half a bottle of Johnnie Walker
Gold that I'd planned to give to Toby on our last day in office."

"Josh!"  He can't handle three beers, much less half a bottle of whiskey.

He walks into the kitchen.  When he returns, he holds up the empty
bottle, then puts it on the coffee table in front of us.

"You said you drank half a bottle," I say, tilting it.

"I called Toby that night."  He pauses.  "He drank the rest."

"You both could've died from alcohol poisoning!"  I turn my body away from his.

"We didn't drink *that* much," he chuckles.  He takes the bottle out
of my hand, and places it back on the coffee table.

I raise my voice.  "Sixteen ounces of whiskey isn't too much?"

"I was miserable," he says, fingering the label.  "I dialed your
number at least five times, but I couldn't go through with it."

I lower my head.

"I said some things..." he begins.

When I look at Josh, he catches my eye.  His face is incredibly serious.

"I said things I shouldn't have.  I don't blame you for moving on."

"Good," I respond.

As CJ said, Josh is a jackass.  He doesn't need to know I'm in love with him.

"I don't think either of us really expected when the administration
ended we'd be together," I lie.

His face turns white and he raises his eyebrows.

"Josh?"

"Yeah.  No, you're right."  His expression leads me to believe otherwise.

"So we're ok then?" I ask.

"What?  Oh, we're fine."  He gulps.

An awkward silence passes.  It's almost amusing the way I can see
Josh's mind trying to process this information.  I stand.

"I had lunch with CJ today." I use my best casual tone.

When Josh doesn't respond, I look at him.  His eyes are open, but he's
not focused on anything.

"I told her about us," I continue.

His head whips around.  "What?"

I shrug.  "Didn't you tell Toby?"

His posture straightens.  "Toby already knew."

"Hmm.  I suppose that's true."  I put a finger on my lips, reflecting.

"You told CJ?"  Josh stands and faces me.

I don't back down.  "Yes.  Do you have a problem with that?"

"Hell yes I have a problem with that!"  He starts pacing.  "She's the
Chief of Staff, Donna.  I don't want her to think we had some kind
of...thing...while we were in office.  If she thinks we were having an
affair, and we actually *didn't* to protect the administration -"

"Josh, calm down."

He puts his hands on his hips.  "What did you tell her?"

"I'm not talking to you when you're like this."  I turn to leave.

Josh sidesteps so he is between me and the door.  "No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?"  I huff.  "You think you can force me to stay?"

He takes a deep breath.  "Please don't leave."

I slowly walk toward him until the tips of my shoes touch his bare
feet.  "Give me one good reason."

He swallows hard.  "I have a $42 bottle of wine?"

I push him out of the way and reach for the door knob.

"Wait!"  He puts his hand over mine.

"I know how you feel," he whispers.

I loosen my grip on the door knob, and Josh removes his hand.

I glare at him.  "This is it, Josh."

I retreat to the sofa, and Josh sits directly across from me on the
coffee table.

"I know what it feels like to have this other person telling you
beautiful things about yourself.  To have them kiss you and hold you,
reminding you what it feels like to be wanted."

I look away.  Josh grabs both my hands.

"They do all these little things to make you happy.  And you smile.
You smile because they *do* make you happy for a minute or an hour or
a day."  He squeezes my hands.

I continue to avoid his gaze.

"I know what it feels like to make love to a person," he says with a
shaky voice.  "Wishing they were someone else."

When I look at him, he clenches his jaw and leans into me.

"Stop this, Josh."

He scoots to the edge of the table.  "You know it's true, Donna."

I can't take it anymore.  I stand.  "Damn it Josh!  You don't know how
it feels to have this man completely in love with you, doing
everything he can to win your heart."

"I don't know how it feels?"  He stands in front of me and his voice
gets really high.  "What the hell do you think I've been through for
the last nine years?"

My refusal to let tears fall is futile.  "You've hoarded my love for
nearly a decade!  You've sabotaged every relationship I've been in-"

"Because none of them deserved you, Donna!  Not one of them knew who
you are."  He points a finger at me.

"That's because you never gave them a chance!"

"It wasn't my place to give them anything!"  He slashes his hands in
the air.  "You were the one in charge.  You had the power to make it
last."

"And you didn't have that chance with your relationships?"

"Sure, I did.  But I didn't take it."  Josh puts his hands on his hips.

I step closer to him, my head held high.  "What happened with Amy?"

He looks down.  "I don't want to talk about it."

"That's it?  You don't want to talk about it, so we drop it?"  I let
out an incredulous chuckle.

"I'll tell you what happened with Amy."  He puts his feet together and
stands perfectly straight like he's gearing up to list ten reasons why
a bill can't pass.  "She never tried to get a Presidential
Proclamation for her twelfth grade English teacher.  She never
inspired me with her parents' cats to get a woman appointed to the
Supreme Court.  She never thought of words that should be Yiddish in
her spare time.  And she never rendered me speechless simply by
sleeping next to me."

My mouth hangs open.  I feel my chest heating up, and it spreads to my cheeks.

Josh faces his palms up and shrugs.  "We've been spinning our wheels
for the last nine years, hoping we'd stumble into someone who was half
as fascinating as we are to each other."

I rub my chest, hoping to make the redness disappear.

He stills my hand.  "I'm done searching for something I'll never
find."  He clenches his jaw.  "I'm ready for this, Donna."

It is, I discover, impossible for me not to love Josh Lyman.  I pull
him to me and hug him tightly.  I feel Josh sigh against my shoulder.

When he pulls back, his arms remain around my waist.  He puts his
forehead against mine and closes his eyes.

"It took you, Toby and a bottle of whiskey to discover that?" I ask,
trying to hide my grin.

He opens his eyes and half-laughs.  "It sure as hell beats a session
with Stanley."

I have the strongest desire to kiss him, which becomes even more
difficult to resist when he licks his lips.  I pull away just in time.

"I should leave."

He rubs my back.  "Really?  After all that?"

I smile.  "Thank you for tonight."

Josh hasn't stopped touching me, and I want to give him permission to
run his hands all over my body.  Instead, I steady his hand with shaky
fingers.  When I get to the door, he places a gentle kiss on the side
of my mouth.  It takes all my strength not to move slightly to the
right for a proper kiss.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he whispers.

"Ok."

I can feel him watching me as I exit the building.  A smile dances
across my face.  I know it's only a matter of time before I can
finally be with that insufferable, yet adorable, magnificent man.

End Part 5

Are you happy?   Mdrgrl1@aol.com

Next:
When I turn around, I see Josh leaning against his door frame.  He's
holding the piece of paper I put in the file.  It's the note he wrote
on one of the pages of CJ's day planner three years ago: Three more
years, Donnatella.  Love, Josh.  He smirks as he swaggers toward me.

"I thought this was the note you 'vaguely' remembered?"

I grin.  "I lied."

***
Limerance: Part 6

As I drive to work this morning, I can't stop the grin from spreading
across my face.  I think of Josh's words last night:  He's ready.  A
small laugh escapes as I think of his expression when he delivered
that line.  When Josh smiles even a little, his dimples surface, but
when his smile stretches nearly from ear to ear, they're like little
craters on his cheeks.  Knowing I am the reason for his glorious smile
makes me blush.

Austin is in my thoughts as well.  Breaking up with him won't be easy.
 Only days ago he admitted he's in love with me.  I lied and said I
loved him too.  I bite my bottom lip and shake my head at the thought
of toying with his emotions.

I purposely arrive at work before Josh.  I pull a file he'll need for
his senior staff meeting this morning at 8 a.m. and take it into his
office.  Reaching into my purse, I find the piece of paper I'm looking
for.  I stuff it in the front of the file, place the file on his desk
and turn to leave.

"Morning."

My head shoots up.

Josh stops in the doorway.  He's wearing my favorite tie.

I smile.  "Good morning."

He hangs his suit jacket up, then walks toward me.

"What are you doing?"

I love MorningJosh.  He's bright-eyed and nearly bouncing.  He smells
like soap and mint toothpaste.  His freshly-shaved cheeks are pink
from the cold outside.

"Just getting the files you'll need for senior staff," I say.

He brushes against me as he walks behind his desk, letting his hand
trail against my lower back.  "Did you sleep well?"

I smile.  "For the most part.  You?"

"I did."

He sits in his leather chair.  "You wanna grab lunch later?"

"Sure."  I brush a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Hey guys."  Charlie walks in.  "Have either of you seen a green
binder with my notes on tax cap hikes for Social Security?"

"CJ gave it to me yesterday," I reply.  "She wanted Josh to have a
copy of Section B."

"I thought I'd lost it," Charlie says, wiping his brow in relief.

I turn to Josh before walking out.  "You have senior staff in five."

"Thanks."

Charlie and I walk to my desk to retrieve the binder.  "Here it is."

"Thanks, Donna.  You made the copies you needed?"

"Yep.  Last night."

"Ok.  I'll see you later."

When I turn around, I see Josh leaning against his door frame.  He's
holding the piece of paper I put in the file.  It's the note he wrote
on one of the pages of CJ's day planner three years ago: Three more
years, Donnatella.  Love, Josh.  He smirks as he swaggers toward me.

"I thought this was the note you 'vaguely' remembered?"

I grin.  "I lied."

Toby breezes by, interrupting the evil thoughts I have about what I'd
like to do with that top button on my boss' shirt.  "We're late," he
says.

Josh inhales deeply.  "Lunch, Donnatella.  My treat."

"You're taking me some place expensive," I yell as I watch him strut
down the hallway.

*
Not surprisingly, our lunch date is delayed nearly an hour as the
President requested a meeting with Josh.  I've made a reservation at
my favorite Italian restaurant, Reginelli's.  Josh took me to
Reginelli's when we first moved into the White House.  I've been many
times since then, but never again with Josh.

As we drive to the restaurant, Josh looks smug.  When I can't take the
small talk and his smirk any longer, I ask why he's in such a mood.

"We're going *out*, Donna.  How many times have we actually left the
building for lunch?" he asks.

I think for a second.  "Once.  Maybe twice."

"Exactly."  He grips the steering wheel, then looks at me.

There's a twinkle in his eye that makes me wonder if there's more to
our little lunch date than he's admitting.

The radio volume is low, but a familiar song is on.  Josh sings the
words he knows, which are probably not the correct lyrics.  When it
comes to the line, "I can't sleep anymore, baby.  Oh no," he sings at
the top of his lungs.

"I didn't know you had such a lovely voice," I tease.

"I'm turning on the charm."  He grins, then puts his right hand on my leg.

My heart flutters.  I decide that it wouldn't hurt anything to, you
know, put my hand over his and maybe even hold hands like a couple of
grade school lovers.  When I grab his hand, Josh looks at my lap.

"My charm has never worked this fast," he says, squeezing my hand.

"I'm holding your hand despite what you consider charm, Joshua."

*
I'm surprised to find Reginelli's empty.  Granted, it's not THE place
to lunch in DC, but every time I've been here, there's been at least a
ten minute wait.  The hostess approaches us and greets us by name.
She takes us to a booth in the far corner.

"I was beginning to think you stood me up."

My mouth hangs open as the President scoots out of the booth to greet us.

"Mr. President, I didn't expect you to be here."  I brush my hair back.

"You didn't tell Donna I'd be joining you?"

Josh looks panicked.  "No sir.  I thought it was supposed to be a surprise."

"I'm kidding, Joshua.  Please, sit."  He holds his hand out for me to
take a seat.

I squeeze into the booth first, and Josh sits next to me.  Now I
understand why he was mysteriously chipper in the car.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, sir?" I ask.

"I have this correspondence I thought I'd share with you."  He pulls
an envelope from his breast pocket.  "My damn glasses should be in
here too...Ah, here they are."  He places the glasses on the tip of
his nose, then looks at me over the top of them.  "Never get old,
Donnatella."

I smile.

The President clears his throat, then reads:

Dear Mr. President,

In the unlikely event that this letter finds its way into your hands,
I'd like to share my most sincere praise of one of your staffers and
my students, Donna Moss.  In your letter of recommendation for Ms.
Moss, you stated that she was "one of the most compassionate,
competent and considerate" young women you've had the privilege of
knowing.  Forgive me for thinking surely you must've exaggerated, Mr.
President.  I couldn't have been more wrong.

In my 19 years at Georgetown, I've never come across a student as
able, open and insightful as Ms. Moss.  While she has only been at
Georgetown for a semester, her popularity among both the students and
faculty, brought on by her unique and thoughtful contributions to
class discussions, has made her a leader in this department already.
Her Economic Reform professor told me recently, "Donna Moss is a
political savant.  Her paper on the transition from communism to a
market economy was the best I've ever read."  Indeed, high praise from
one of the most respected women in political education.

It will be an honor and a privilege to work closely with Ms. Moss over
the next year as she takes on the role of head research assistant for
the Political Economy Department.  Thank you, sir, for trusting her
education to me and my fellow laureates at Georgetown University.
Donna Moss is sure to make you proud.

Sincerely,
Warren Hewlitt, Ph.D.

It takes a few seconds for the tears to fully form in my eyes.  To say
that I'm shocked would be an understatement.  It's only when I feel
Josh's hand on my knee that I snap back to reality.

"I don't know what to say."  I blink rapidly, trying to keep my tears in check.

"That last line is meaningless, Donna.  You've already made me proud,"
the President says.  He puts a hand on mine.  "Congratulations on your
success."

"Thank you, sir."

He releases my hand, and I quickly grab a napkin to dab my eyes.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have 21 days left to run this country.
You better believe I'm gonna use every last second."  The President
stands.

Josh stands as well and shakes his hand.  "Thanks for stopping by, sir."

"Treat her right, Joshua."  He pats Josh on the back.  "Curtis?" he
calls.  The President turns back to face us.  "You think you'd be able
to spot a 300-pound linebacker in such a small restaurant."

"Yes sir?" Curtis asks, approaching the table.

"Let's go."

When he leaves, I regain my composure.  "You knew about this?"

"The President showed me the letter this morning."  Josh sits across
from me.  "Not a bad endorsement of my superior tutelage."  He smirks.

"Are you suggesting I owe this recognition to you?" I ask with raised eyebrows.

"I am, after all, the political genius who hired you, despite your
being a vagrant."  His dimples are out in full-force.

If Josh knew how hot his cockiness was, he'd be intolerable.

I sigh.  "I hired myself, Joshua."

"Well, yeah, but, you know, I let you."

I lick my lips and lean toward him.  "How will I ever thank you?"

He gulps.  "I can think of a couple ways."

Our lunch is somewhat rushed because Josh has a meeting on the Hill at
2:30.  I drop him off and take his car back to work.  As I drive, I
can't stop smiling.

My cell phone rings.  It's Austin.  Suddenly, I'm not feeling so cheerful.

I confirm that I'm still going to his house tonight at 8 p.m., and he
once again inquires about "the issue".  I apologize for not wanting to
discuss it over the phone.  When I hang up, my mood shifts to one of
dread.

***
As soon as I get in my car to drive to Austin's house, I turn off the
radio and rehearse my speech out loud.  I think if I can just get the
first sentence out, everything will be all right.  It'll hurt like
hell to watch Austin crumble, but in a matter of minutes, the worst of
the pain will be over.

Just before 8 p.m. I knock on his door.

"Hi," I say.

"Come in."  Austin puts his hand on my shoulder and leads me to the
couch.  "Are you hungry?  I made stir-fry."

"No, thanks."  I sit next to him.

"How was your day?"  His hands are shaking.

I remain silent for a moment, willing myself the strength to speak.
"I don't know how to do this."  My words come out in a trembling
whisper.

I hear him inhale sharply.

"I lied to you, Austin."  I purse my lips together, repressing a sob.
"I'm not in love with you."

Austin looks down.  I watch him clutch his hands together so tightly
his knuckles turn white.

"Austin?"  I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to keep my tears at bay.

Finally, he exhales.  "I know."

I shake my head in confusion.  "I'm so sorry.  I should've never--"

"I was in as much denial as you," he interrupts.  I watch a tear stain
his khaki pants.  "I've known for a long time."

"I don't understand."

"Sometimes I'd watch you, Donna."  He hooks his hand around my knee.
"In a restaurant, at a party or even in the car.  You looked...sad.
It killed me, knowing you weren't always happy with me."  A few more
tears fall.

"I *was* happy with you, Austin."  I put my hand over his.

"When we made love, even the first time, you held something back."  He
shakes his head.  "I was selfish," he says in a trembling voice.

"You weren't the selfish one."

He holds his arms out to me and, for one last time, I hug him.  We cry
on each other's shoulder.  I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping the hurt
subsides.

After a couple of minutes, he pulls back and looks into my eyes.
"It's him, isn't it?"

I stop in the middle of wiping my tears with my sleeve.  My eyebrows rise.

"It's Josh," he whispers.

"Austin."  I reach for him, but he scoots away.

He takes a deep breath and puts his head in his hands.  "God this hurts."

I lower my head as I start to cry again.  "Part of me wishes things
were different."

"Me too."  Austin keeps his head down.

We sit in silence.  For a brief moment, I wonder if I'm making a
mistake.  I wonder if Austin's goodness and love is really all I need
to be happy.

Then I think about Josh.  I think of the way my heart jumps to my
throat when I see him in the morning; the way he uses this soft voice
when he talks to me; the way he smirks when he thinks he's made a
brilliant discovery; and the way a simple touch sends chills
throughout my body.

Austin's voice snaps me out of the fog.  "You should probably go."

"I don't want to leave you like this," I say.

He looks up.  "There's nothing you can do, Donna."

I put my hand on his back and slowly stand.  "I can't begin to tell
you how sorry I am."

"I believe you.  I'm sorry too."

I try smiling, but it probably looks as forced as it feels.  I grab my
keys off the coffee table and leave.  When I get in my car, I start to
sob again.  It takes quite some time to collect myself enough to
drive.

The desire to call Josh is overwhelming, but I don't feel right about
going from one man's arms to another in a matter of minutes.  On the
drive home, I think of Austin's words: He knew.  I berate myself for
being so transparent.

When I get home, I pour a shot of mandarin vodka, the only strong
alcohol I own.  I take two shots, then decide it's enough.  It won't
be long before I feel the effects.

I search for the large envelope that contains pictures of Austin and
me.  I don't have many, but some of them are lovely.  Austin and I
made a beautiful couple.  When I find the envelope and empy its
contents, I stare at each one with affection; however, I'm looking for
something specific.  Austin said I often looked sad when I was with
him.  I find two that clearly show he was right.

The first one was taken at Charlie's birthday party.  I'm sitting at a
table with my chin in my palm, while Austin stands behind me with his
hand on my shoulder.  He's smiling widely, while I'm almost frowning.
I recall the events of that night.  Austin and I weren't fighting.
We'd eaten sushi before going to the party, and I remember laughing a
lot.  When we arrived, I'd spotted Josh talking to a woman I didn't
recognize.  From that moment on, I wasn't in the mood to party.

I put the picture back in the envelope and sigh.

The second photograph was taken at a victory party after Matt Santos
won the election.  Balloons and streamers crowded the background.
Austin had picked me up and twirled me.  The picture captured my
expression.  My eyes aren't on Austin; they're looking over his
shoulder.  Josh is visible just at the edge of the photo and directly
in my line of sight.

I feel awful for not being able to give Austin the joy he deserves.

I climb into bed with a box of Kleenex at 11:30 p.m.  At first, I try
putting thoughts of Josh out of my head.  I should grieve over my
breakup with Austin.  But as I fall asleep, I can think of nothing but
Josh.

I'm too tired to feel the guilt I know I'll feel in the morning.
Instead, I picture Josh in bed with me.  He's holding me, caressing my
body.  I turn to him, and we can't stop smiling.  I get that
butterfly-in-the-stomach feeling of being in love - limerance.

Before drifting off to sleep, I wonder how long I'll have to wait for
that little slice of contentment.

End Part 6

***
Listening to Joni Mitchell after recently breaking up with my
boyfriend is not the wisest thing I've ever done.  Nevertheless, as I
read my Con Law textbook, I find myself singing along:

I wish I had a river
I could skate away on

My friend, Stephanie, made this tape for me 12 years ago after we
spent a drunken night, lamenting over the same stupid man.  On the
cassette insert, she wrote the names of the songs and the title of the
tape, "Break Up Music (or songs that make me really depressed)" with
colored pens.

I smile and think about calling Stephanie this weekend.  Instead, I
call the woman who knows Josh and me equally well.

I knew breaking up with Austin would hurt, but I had no idea I'd feel
this bad.  The morning after, I'd told CJ in passing about the
breakup, but I wasn't emotionally prepared to have a heart-to-heart
conversation.  She'd told me she'd happily listen when I was ready.
Six days go by before I'm finally prepared to discuss it.

"Hi, CJ."

"Donna?  How's it going?"  I hear what sounds like a Frank Sinatra CD
in the background.

"Are you hosting ballroom dancing lessons and forgot to invite me?"  I ask.

The volume lowers.  "I was just cleaning my house, and I turned my
stereo louder so I could hear it over the vacuuming.  But the ballroom
dancing thing sounds like a good idea."

"Is this a bad time?"  I turn the volume down on my stereo as well.

"Not at all," CJ says.  "How are you?"

"I've felt sick all week." I take a deep breath.  "It's kind of like
having the flu - I feel like I should be quarantined."

"Quarantined?"

"Maybe that's not the best analogy.  It's just...I need time to let
go.  Does that make sense?"  My finger traces the lip of my wine
glass.

"It's going to take time, Donna.  Has Josh been pressuring you?"  I
picture CJ leaning forward like a lioness ready to pounce.

"No!"  I stand and pace.  "He asked me to go to his place two days
ago, but I refused.  Since then, he's been kind of distant."

"I think it bothers him that he can't help you," CJ says.  "You know
Josh: the compulsive fixer."

I sigh.  "Sometimes I'll catch him looking at me.  I'll smile, but his
expression doesn't change.  It's like he's looking straight through
me."

"I'm sure he's dying to talk to you, to tell you that being with him
isn't going to be like being with Austin."

"Do you believe that?" I ask.

"I don't want to jinx anything, Donna."  I imagine a small smile
spreading across CJ's face.  "But with you and Josh, I think you're in
it for the long haul."

I blush. "Really?"

"If it isn't you, God knows that poor boy will be traumatizing women
for the rest of his life."

I smile.

We make small talk for the next five minutes, then I hang up, feeling
like I'm almost ready.  For now, I need to listen to Joni Mitchell and
drink plenty of wine.

***
We have two weeks left in office, and the mood swings at work are like
a woman going through menopause.  One minute, people are dancing in
the hallways; the next, they're sitting alone in their offices with
their heads in their hands.

Josh has been working more closely with Santos.  In fact, he's only in
the White House five or six hours a day, and he still doesn't come in
on Mondays.

I've been packing boxes and finishing some last minute memos at work,
but most of my time is spent at Georgetown.  I'm taking three classes
on Tuesdays and Thursdays and one evening class on Wednesdays.  It's
difficult balancing work and school, but I can handle the stress of
16-hour days for two more weeks.

As I wrap tape across another box of files, a courier approaches my desk.

"Hey, Donna."

"Hey, Harold.  I haven't seen you in a while," I reply.

He punches some buttons on his package delivery device.  "You guys
counting down the days?"

"Yeah.  It's kind of sad."  I take the brown envelope from him.
There's no name on the front.  "Is this for Josh?"

"Nope.  This one's for you."

I turn the package over in my hands.  "Thanks, Harold.  Have a good one."

"You too."

When the courier is gone, I sit at my desk and open the envelope.  A
menu from Gyu-Kaku falls out.  There's a note paperclipped to the top:

I won't take no for an answer.

7:30 tonight.

- Josh

I hold the note against my chest and smile.  I'm finally ready.

***
Gyu-Kaku is a Japanese barbeque restaurant where you grill your own
food in a charcoal pit in the middle of the table.  It's the only one
like it in the tri-state area, and it's all the rage in DC.  I've
never been to a similar restaurant.  Fancy French bistros aren't
Josh's style.  And, I'm happy to say, they're not mine either.

When I arrive at the restaurant, I see Josh pacing inside.  I make my
way through the crowded waiting area.

"I thought you were going to make me order take-out," I say, referring
to the menu he had delivered to me.

He whips around.  "Not unless you want to set up a barbeque pit in
your living room."

I'm amazed at what Josh's smile does to me.  I feel my chest and cheeks heat up.

"They're getting our table ready," he says, putting his hands in his pockets.

A few days ago, hell, even this morning, I wanted to avoid Josh's
touch.  Now, I wish he would just touch my arm.

"Right this way," the hostess says.

My wish comes true as Josh guides me to our table with his hand at my
lower back.  It's like aloe vera on a sunburn.  I'm glad he's behind
me so he can't see the grin spreading across my face.

"I didn't know if you'd come," Josh says as we take our seats.

I put my napkin on my lap.  "I'm using you for a chance to eat here, Joshua."

"I'll take what I can get." He smirks.

The waitress hands us menus and explains the yakiniku style of dining.
 I find it hard to pay attention to her as I stare at Josh.

He's wearing a light blue dress shirt, minus the tie he had on earlier
today.  The top two buttons are undone, and his sleeves are rolled up.
 Maybe it's the lighting in here, but Josh looks even more handsome
than usual.

"I'm just gonna have her cook mine," he says, nodding at me.

I might've missed everything the waitress said, but I caught that
line.  I don't respond as Josh's dimples take over my ability to
speak.

It occurs to me I never told Josh that I broke up with Austin.

"I broke up with Ausitn."  Well, that just came flying out.

"I heard."  His face turns serious.

"From whom?"

He shrugs.  "People."

I lower my head.  It's not easy to talk about my break up, but I have
a feeling that once I clear the air with Josh, I'll feel...free.

The waitress delivers our Kirin beers.

"I know I've been distant this past week," I say, fiddling with my napkin.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asks.

Judging from the look on his face, I don't think he really wants details.

I shake my head.  "It just takes time."

He leans forward.  "A week's about all I can do."

I smile and raise my beer for a toast.  "To patience."

He taps the neck of his beer bottle against mine.  "Impatience, Donnatella."

I sip my beer and feel Josh's foot nudge mine.  I nestle it between my feet.

It takes us nearly three hours to eat our meal, but it's well worth
it.  Josh has major trouble cooking the chicken and, well, everything
else.  I laugh at his inability to grill, but I help him with the
skewers.  Our hands touch throughout the night, and I catch Josh
looking at me several times.  One time, he nearly burns his fingers.

When it comes time for dessert, we order S'mores.  The difficulty in
melting marshmallows and chocolate is not lost on Josh.  His hands are
covered with graham cracker crumbs and chocolate.

"How the hell are you still clean?" he asks, holding his hands out to
show me the mess.

I lick my fingers.  "You're holding the S'mores over the heat too
long, Josh.  It's not like cooking the beef."

"You saw how good I was at that," he responds, trying to wipe the
sticky mess off his hands with a napkin.

"Here."  I stand and walk to the other side of the table, sitting next
to Josh.  "First, you have to get the graham cracker closer.  Trying
to carry a melting marshmallow to your plate a foot away isn't going
to work."

He gulps.

I stay focused on the food; otherwise, I'd jump him right here.  I put
my hand over his.  "There.  Like that."

Sliding the concoction off the skewer, I get a tiny bit of chocolate
on my fingers.  Josh pulls my hand to his mouth and licks my
forefinger.

Not for the first time, I find it difficult to breathe.  I want to
pull Josh's hand to my mouth and do the same, but I'm afraid I'd
ravage him.

The waitress approaches the table.  "How was everything?"

I can't speak, so I'm glad that Josh answers.  "Do you guys, you know,
cook anything in the kitchen?"

I didn't say I would be pleased with his response.

"No, sir.  You do it all here.  Looks like you had some trouble."  She
nods at Josh's dirty hands and napkin.

He blushes.  "Yeah."

"Don't mind him.  This was a fabulous experience."

"Thank you.  There's a saying in Japan,"  A long series of words come
out of her mouth in Japanese, then she translates.  "People who eat
together from the same pot of rice develop and enjoy stronger,
meaningful and long lasting relationships."

When I look at Josh, he's staring at me with a twinkle in his eye.

"Was rice part of this meal?"

Only Josh can break the mood with six words.

I roll my eyes, then excuse myself.  We both need to wash our hands.

When I'm done, Josh is waiting for me outside.  "This was lovely, Josh."

He steps closer to me and grins.  "Admit it, you just enjoyed watching
me struggle."

"That was a bonus."  I nod.

It's very cold outside, so I pull my coat tightly around my body.
Josh's coat is still unbuttoned.

"Nice spot," I say, noticing his car parked right in front of the
restaurant.  "I parked two blocks away."

He unlocks the doors with his remote, then opens the passenger door
for me.  "I'll give you a ride."

I can't help thinking about the time nine years ago when Josh and I
rode in his car after spending the night in a bar watching the returns
of the South Dakota primary.  It was snowing that night, and Josh had
forgotten his gloves.  When we got in his car, I'd helped him warm his
hands.  I remember the nervous excitement I'd felt as we fogged up the
windows.

Josh kissed me for the first time that night.  He'd convinced me to
stay in his hotel room instead of sleeping on the cot in the
Manchester office.  We'd woken up at some ungodly hour, tangled in
each other's arms and legs.  He'd kissed my neck and let his hands run
across my back and stomach; however, he never kissed my lips.  I
remember him saying, "If that's what being with you is like and we
haven't even kissed, I think I'll die if we ever have sex."

"Donna?"  His voice snaps me out of my reverie.

I lower my head, hiding my blush.  "I was thinking about that night in
Manchester."

He grins.  "When you seduced me in my hotel room?"

My head shoots up.  "I seduced you?"

"I was fine sleeping on the floor!  You literally dragged me into bed."

Josh parks just behind my car, then turns to face me.

"You kissed me."

"I remember," he whispers.

I sigh.  "It was a long time ago."

He takes my hand and rubs his thumb across my knuckles.  "Feels like yesterday."

It's been a long time since I've kissed Josh, but I'll never forget
how his lips feel against mine.

"Was I that good?" I ask with a grin.

He raises his eyebrows.  "That's usually my line."

I let go of his hand and place my hand flat against his thigh.  "I
remember the danger and excitement."

Josh rubs his hand as far as he can under my coat sleeve.  "There's no
more danger."

I look in his eyes.  "What about excitement?"

He smirks.  "There might be some of that left."

I'm not sure who makes the first move, but before I know it, our lips
are pressed hard against each other.  Josh's moan only makes me lean
into him more.  I suck his bottom lip as his tongue begs for entrance
into my mouth.  He tastes like chocolate and marshmallows.  His hands
are in my hair, and mine are crawling up his thighs.  I adjust my body
to gain better access to Josh, but the damn arm rest is in the way.

"A little trouble there, Donnatella?"

I look down, noticing I've climbed onto my seat.  I slowly lower my
body, but I don't take my eyes or hands off Josh.

"What part of your brain tells you to say things out loud?"

Josh's hands fall back to his lap as I adjust in my seat.  The look on
his face leads me to believe he's realized his error.

"The part that needs to shut up?"  He guesses.

I kiss him gently on the lips.  "Yes."

He deepens the kiss.  While I'm not in the most comfortable position,
the only thing I feel is Josh's hands and lips on my face.  I love the
way his breath sounds between kisses; the way little sounds escape his
mouth; and the way his stubble feels against my cheeks.  Josh's hair
is much softer than it looks.  I love running my hands through it.

He cups my cheeks and pulls back only slightly.  "Come home with me."

I swallow hard.  Resisting Josh has never been one of my strong points.

"Drive fast."

***
On the ride home, Josh and I don't stop touching.  His hand rests on
my leg, and both of mine cover his.  Then he brings my hand to his
mouth, kissing it from my fingers down to my wrist.  I wonder how much
longer I can resist crawling into his lap.

He parks the car in front of his condo and is halfway up the steps
before he stops and looks back.

"Forgetting something?" I ask, shutting the car door and folding my arms.

Josh jogs back down the steps, grabs my hand and literally pulls me
upstairs.  Once we're inside, he throws his keys on a table and steps
closer to me.

"I couldn't wait to get out of that restaurant."  He takes off my
coat, then runs his hand from my cheek to my neck.

"I'm sure our waitress felt the same," I say, wondering if sucking on
his Adam's apple would be acceptable right now.

Josh's eyes trail down my body.  "I'm not a fan of paying to cook my own food."

"Considering there's probably a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of
moldy bread in your cupboard, I'd pretty much say that you should
stick with paying others to cook for you."  I shove my hands under
Josh's coat and rub his stomach and chest.

Josh unhooks two buttons on my sweater, revealing my pink silk
camisole.  "This is nice."

His fingertips tracing the lace on my camisole distract me for a moment.

"I got it on sale."

"I would've paid full price."  He unhooks the last two buttons and
spreads my sweater open.

I close my eyes as I feel Josh's hands run over my breasts, then to my waist.

"You don't pay me enough."  I place my hands on his forearms.

He leans in and kisses my chest.  "I'll give you a raise."

"That would help me out, you know, with the two weeks left."  My back
is now against the door.

Josh's mouth moves very slowly up the silk strap of my camisole.  When
his lips reach my shoulder, he  tucks his fingers underneath my
sweater and pushes the sleeve down my arm.  He does the same to the
other arm until my sweater falls to the ground.  He trails his
fingertips back up my arms while kissing the base of my neck.

I run my hands through his hair and tilt my head, giving him better
access to my neck.

Josh sucks several spots on my neck, and I've nearly lost the ability
to think.  By the time he wraps his lips around my earlobe, I find it
hard to stand.

"If you give me a hickey, I'll kick your ass."

I can't see his face, but I'm sure he's smirking.  "What if it's in a
spot where no one will see it?"

I can't take it any more.  I turn my head and capture Josh's lips.  My
hands fly to his face and I pull him closer to me.  He steps to his
right a bit so we're perfectly even, then presses his body against
mine.

"I might be ok with that," I reply with ragged breath.

His hands slide down my back and onto my butt.  "As much as I admire
this silk thing, it's gotta go."

"It's called a camisole."

"Whatever the hell it's called, take it off."  Although Josh instructs
me to remove the garment, he's not a  patient man.  He pulls the
camisole over my head, almost before he's done speaking, dropping it
next to my sweater on the floor.  He returns his mouth to mine, and
his hands glide down my bare chest, settling on my zipper.  He slowly
unzips my pants but doesn't remove them.  His hands return to my butt,
this time, inside my pants.  "Donna, are you..."

I continue kissing him, but Josh's lips have stopped moving.  "Not
wearing any underwear?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

Josh gulps.

This kiss is filled with more passion than the last few.  Our tongues
race around each other's mouth, yet they never collide.  It feels like
I've kissed him a million times.  Josh's hands squeeze my butt as he
grinds into me.  His erection presses firmly against my stomach.

"I've made an art out of wanting you," he whispers.

"Josh," I moan.  I kick off my shoes, which makes me a couple of
inches shorter than him.  I think Josh likes when he can look down at
me.

He takes a step back and stares.  When he looks at my face, his eyes are watery.

"Josh?"  I reach out for him.

He steps closer to me again and lifts my hand to his mouth.  "I read
this quote once," he says, kissing my knuckles.  "'Too much
unhappiness has been caused in the world by things left unsaid.'"

I blink back tears.

Josh lowers my hand, but doesn't let go.  He grabs the other one and
presses against me again, capturing my lips in a soft kiss.

"I'm saying it," he whispers.

I kiss him on the side of the mouth, then look him in the eye.  "Me too."

His smile lights up the room.

"I applaud the sentiment, Joshua, but making love to you while you're
still wearing a coat isn't in any of my fantasies."

Josh quickly sheds his coat, shirt and undershirt in a swift movement.
 I help him with his belt as we walk toward his bedroom.

"You have fantasies?"  He smirks.

"Yes," I reply, struggling with his zipper as he walks backwards rapidly.

"Care to share?"  He stops abruptly.

I nearly run into him, which isn't a bad thing considering my hands
land on his chest.  I move my hands to Josh's sides.  I love the soft
skin just below his armpit.  "Not really."

"C'mon, Donna.  One fantasy."  He unzips his pants, letting them fall
to the floor.

My eyes are drawn to his red boxer briefs.  "You changed your underwear?"

He grins.  "I might still be a bachelor, but I occasionally do laundry."

"That's not what I meant," I say, kissing his collarbone.  "You used
to wear boxers."

"I still do.  I just grabbed these this morning."  He looks down.
"You don't like them?"

I run my hand down his stomach, then slip a finger in the elastic
waistband.  "I like them."  I kiss him soundly.  "Just not on."

Josh stumbles backwards into the bedroom while I push his boxer briefs
off his hips.  He shimmies out of them, then spins me around.  "You're
distracting me."

"If this isn't an occasion worthy of distraction, I don't know what
is," I reply, kissing his arm.

"Fantasies," he says, rubbing my back.  The rubbing makes his bicep
contract, and I find it difficult not to leave a hickey right here.

"What about them?"

"You said you had fantasies about me.  Spill it, Donnatella."  He
pulls me on top of him and brushes my hair back.

"Only if you make it come true."  I trail my hand down the length of his body.

"Deal."

I takes me twice as long to think, what with the way Josh's hands run
up and down my back.  "Well, there's one where you talk about
politics."

He laughs.  "Seriously?"

I nod.  "You bring the hot when it comes to politics."

He's still smiling.  "I bring the hot?"

"You do."  I feel his hands on my butt.  He pulls me up enough for his
penis to lie beneath my center.  I love the way his hard body feels
below me.

"There's going to be a major buyout in the telecommunications
industry," he says, kissing my neck.  "But shareholders are pissed
because they stuck with the company even after it filed for
bankruptcy, and now the CEO wants to sell."

I stop kissing his neck.  "Ok, that fantasy may have been a mistake."

His hands stop moving.  "What?  I didn't bring the hot?"

I trail my hand down his stomach, past his navel.  "There are many
ways to bring the hot, Joshua.  Tonight, politics is not one of them."

He rolls over, and I end up beneath him.  "But that's what I love," he says.

I should've never mentioned politics.  My lips work their way from his
neck to his lips.  "Can you think of something you might love more
than politics?"

I pull his nipple between my teeth.

Josh gulps.  "I might be able to come up with something."

Josh moans as his penis comes into contact with my center.  I run it
up and down my wetness a few times before he slowly enters me.

"God, Donna.  I can't believe I let this end," he whispers.

I lie beneath him still adjusting to the sensation.  "We didn't have a choice."

"I had a choice - doing this with you for quite possibly the rest of
my life, or nine long years without you."  He pushes my hair back and
kisses me.

I close my eyes, trying to concentrate on the way this feels.  "You
weren't truly without me."

"Being with you like this..." he pauses and caresses my cheek.  "Makes
me realize I made a mistake."

He reaches a hand between us.  One touch makes me moan.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," he kisses me.  "If I had to do it all over again, I'd choose you."

I move up, causing Josh to move his hand.  His penis hits me in all
the right places.  With the small part of my brain that's still
allowing me to think, I reflect on Josh's statement.  He'd choose me
over politics.

"You don't have to make that choice this time around."  I touch his
lips with my thumb before kissing him again.

Three more pumps, and I'm lost.  I whisper Josh's name over and over
and grip his shoulders as I ride out the most intense orgasm I've had
in nine years.  Josh isn't far behind.  He squeezes his eyes shut at
first, then looks at me with what could only be described as
amazement.

Josh collapses on my side.  Both of us breathe heavily.

"It's hard to believe that was only our second time," he says, kissing
my forehead.

I snuggle closer to him.  "Mmm hmm."

"I guess I still have it."

I look up to confirm he's grinning.  "If by 'it' you mean a giant ego
and very little rhythm, then yes.  You certainly do."

"Hey!"  He scoots away, but still has both hands on me.  "I have rhythm."

"Fine, you have rhythm," I sigh.  I'd never admit it to him, but Josh
is unbelievably skilled in bed.  "But I'm going to have to do
something about your ego."

"What did you have in mind?" He smirks.

I bend down and suck his nipple into my mouth.

Josh moans.

"If you want more of that, you're going to have to learn to compliment
yourself less and me more."

He pulls my head up and kisses me soundly on the lips.  "You were as
spectacular as I was."

I turn away from him, pretending to get out of bed.  Josh stops me
with his hand on my waist.  I put my hand on his upper arm, and he
pulls me back next to him.  I feel his muscle contract under my hand.
I could spend all day staring at and kissing this man's arms.

"Ok, Ok!  I'll pay you a compliment."  He looks me in the eye and rubs
my cheek.  "Every time you look at me, every time you talk to me, and
every time you touch me, I feel...alive."

My breath catches in my throat.  "Then here's to living."  I kiss Josh
gently at first, then more passionately as I feel his hands trail down
my arms.

I wonder how I could've lived without this for so damn long.  I'm
thankful that I won't have to worry about that ever again.

End Part 7

***
Part 8

The alarm clock beeps loudly at 6:30 a.m.  I reach out to turn the
sleeper mode on, but I come into contact with a body rather than a
clock.

"Ow!"

My breath catches in my throat.  I exhale, remembering I'm in bed with Josh.

"We sleep together one night and already you're hitting me?"

I sit up.  "Sorry."

He pulls me back down, then reaches his left hand to turn off the alarm.

"Good morning," I say, nuzzling against his neck.

"Morning."  Josh wraps his arms around me and kisses my head.

"I like this better than our first time."  I sigh against his neck.
"We don't have to worry about who'll find out."

He pulls back until our faces are almost even.  "Is it bad that I want
to call everyone I know?"

I kiss him and close my eyes.  When we break the kiss, I rest my
forehead against Josh's and concentrate on the small circles he's
making on my back.

"Technically, you're still my boss, so I wouldn't call anyone just yet."

He sighs.  "Not even CJ and Toby?"

I can't help the smile that spreads across my face.  "We can tell them."

Josh looks happier and more peaceful than I've seen him in a very long
time.  He sits up, resting his back against the headboard and cradles
my head against his chest.

"I have Con Law at 8," I say with disappointment.  I gaze up at him.

"I could teach that class."  He smirks and puts his hands behind his
head.  The sheets cover his body just below his hipbones.

It's hard for me not to stare at his bare chest.  Plus, with his arms
in that position, his biceps are nearly irresistible.  If I thought I
had a minute to spare, I'd be nibbling on his arm by now.

"If the boss/assistant thing isn't enough, I'm sure the
professor/student thing would surely make the news."  I kiss Josh's
shoulder before crawling out of bed.

"I guess this blows the whole 'morning after' thing."  Josh sighs.

I smile at him while searching for my clothes.  "The 'morning after' thing?"

"Yeah," He stands and puts on a pair of blue boxer shorts.  "You know,
lying in bed, having morning sex, taking a shower together."  He
kisses my ear.

"You've thought about this?"  I lean into his touch.

"Many, many times, Donnatella."  He spins me around and captures my
lips with his for a quick but deep kiss.  "It's almost always followed
by a cold shower."

"You won't have to take a cold shower this time," I say.

Josh looks hopeful.

"Take a hot one instead."  I smile and pull away from him, continuing
to look for my clothes.

His look of dejection fades and is replaced by a grin.  "You're good
with the teasing."

Josh is just as skilled at teasing me without even knowing it.  His
just standing there shirtless in a pair of boxers is enough to send me
over the edge.

"Your clothes are in the living room," he says.

I really want to kiss the grin off his face.  Instead I brush by him,
making sure to touch the bulge in his boxers with the back of my hand.
 Looking back, I see Josh gulp.

I walk into the other room, put on yesterday's clothes, go into the
bathroom in search of mouthwash, and put my hair up in a bun at the
base of my neck.

After I spit the mouthwash out, I look up to see Josh's reflection in
the mirror.  He's got this glow about him.  Before I can speak, his
hands are on my hips.

"I have eggs," he says, kissing the back of my neck.

"I realize biology wasn't your strongest subject, but women have eggs.
 Men have sperm."  I tilt my head and smile.

Josh laughs quietly.  "In the refrigerator.  I have eggs in the
refrigerator."   He takes my earlobe into his mouth.

"And you want me to cook them?"  I try not to moan, but it's difficult
when Josh's tongue is exploring my ear like this.

"That would be nice," he whispers.

I spin around, and our lips lock.  I run my hands up and down his
chest, and he holds my face in his hands.  My body tingles.

I break the kiss abruptly, realizing my car is still near the
restaurant.  "My car."

"What about it?"  He goes back to kissing my neck.

"You have to drive me to it."

It's almost painful to resist Josh's touch.

So I don't.  I lower my head and trail kisses down his chest.  When I
reach his left nipple, Josh sighs.

"I really don't want to leave," I whisper.

"Don't."  Josh has found a way to maneuver his hands underneath my
sweater and camisole.

I lift my head and kiss him.  It doesn't take long before our tongues
make their way into each other's mouths. He tastes delicious.

He pushes me back until my butt hits the counter.  I raise myself up
on my toes, and Josh puts his hands on my hips to help me sit.  Our
mouths never separate.

"Josh?"  I mumble against his mouth.

"Hmm?"

"I really, really don't want to do this, but I have to go."

He stops kissing me.  "Skip class."

"I've missed three classes already, and it's only the third week of
school."  I lower my head.  "I can't, Josh."

He exhales.  "So no breakfast?"

I smile.  "Not this morning."  I hop off the counter and kiss him on
the nose.  I have to leave this room before I say to hell with class.
I'd definitely rather have morning sex with Josh than sit in class for
four hours.

I find my shoes and purse, straighten my blouse and call for him.  He
comes out of the bedroom halfway dressed in a suit.  I don't vocalize
what I'm going to do with his tie later.

"Last chance," he says, smirking.

I hand him his keys and sigh.  "Let's go."

***
For the life of me, I can't concentrate in class.  Dr. Hewlitt calls
on me twice, and I give half-ass answers.  All I can think about is
Josh.  This is it: we've come to the end of the road, and it looks
like we're going in the same direction.

After two classes, I drive to work.  I'm thankful I changed clothes
before dinner last night so I don't have to show up in the same outfit
I wore yesterday.

It never occurred to me that things might be weird between Josh and me
on our first day at work as a semi-couple.  I didn't think about how
we'd act around our friends; if we'd keep what happened between us
last night a secret.

"Bonjour, Donnatella."

"First it was Chinese, now it's French?"  I walk around the corner
toward the copy machine, hiding my grin behind a file.  I feel like a
teenager with a crush on an upperclassman.

Josh catches up with me.  "Do you know why I'm speaking French this morning?"

"No, but why are you skipping?"

He looks at his feet.  "I'm not skipping.  This is my normal walk."

I continue walking, but I step to the side to check out Josh's stride.
 "If that was your normal walk, the rumors wouldn't be about me and
you.  They'd be about you and Matt Skinner."

Josh ignores most of my statement.  "Speaking of you and me..."  He wags
his eyebrows.

"You're back to the French thing?"  I stop at the copy machine.

"Do you know why I greeted you in French?"  He leans against the
copier, dimples in full-force.

"Because you're taking me to Paris?"  I press a few buttons on the
machine, doing my best to ignore Josh.  It's not easy when his hair is
out of control, and he still smells like Dial soap.

"No."

"Then I'm really not interested."  I make ten copies, then walk back
to my desk with Josh still on my heels.

"Donna!"

I look at the clock on my desk.  "You're with CJ in five minutes."

He raises his eyebrows and bounces on his toes.  "You're not even the
slightest bit curious?"

I sigh.  "I know why, Joshua, and it's kind of lame."

"If by 'lame' you mean 'cute,' I'm ok with that."  He tilts his head.

"Go away from me."  He really can't stand this close to me, or I'll be
responsible for a very public display of affection.

"French kissing, Donna!"  He yells.

A few people turn their heads.

I grab Josh by the arm and drag him into his office, shutting the door
behind me.

"What did I do?"  He really seems to have no clue.

"Josh, you can't yell things like that in the middle of the bullpen!"

"Can I say them quietly in here?"  He steps into my personal space.
"Or better yet, can I *do* them in here?"  He leans in to kiss me, but
I step away.

"You most certainly cannot!"  I brush my hair behind my ears and stand
as far away from Josh as possible.

"Isn't that what people do after making love all night?"  He
approaches me again.

The man is irresistible.  He brushes my hair over my shoulder and
trails one hand down my arm.

My breathing increases.  "First of all, we did not make love all
night.  Second, as much as I'd love to, you know, make out in your
office, it's probably not the smartest idea."

"One kiss," he whispers.

I don't think it matters to Josh what my answer is because his lips
are two inches from mine before I can speak.  When they meet, it's
soft and sweet.  He kisses me again, opening his mouth just a little,
but it's the same gentleness as the first one.  I could spend the rest
of the day accepting these baby kisses from Josh.

He pulls back.  "Was that so bad?"

I open my mouth to speak but am surprised when nothing comes out.

"What's the matter, Donna?  Cat got your tongue?"  He smirks.

Well, he just blew that one.  "I'll tell you who's not getting any tongue."

I walk to the door, straightening my blouse.  "You're late for your meeting."

Josh is left standing in his office with a semi-erection.  I grin at
him before going back to my desk.

This is going to be fun.

***
There are worse things in the world than watching Josh strut around
the office all afternoon.  But his swagger is downright nauseating to
CJ.

"I read The Post and The Times and watched the news all day, but I
still can't figure out what has Josh strutting more obnoxiously than
usual," CJ says, leaning against my filing cabinet.

I blush.  "I don't think it has anything to do with politics."

She folds her arms and stands straight.  "Donna Moss!  Do you have
something you'd like to share with the class?"

"Can you keep a secret?"  I beckon her closer.

CJ nods and stands in front of me.  "I think I've proven I can."

"I might have a little something to do with his...walk."

"You call that walking?"  CJ snorts.

"Shhh!"  I look around to make sure no one is paying attention to us.
"I went to dinner with Josh last night."

She leans closer to me.  "I don't care if you had filet mignon, it's
not the reason for that damn swagger."

I smile.  "We went back to his place afterwards."

CJ holds her hand up.  "Just tell me this: Did you wake up alone?"

I bite my lower lip and feel my cheeks turning pink.  "Not exactly."

"Wow."  CJ shakes her head, then pulls me into a hug.  "We're going to
have to have a chat about the fine mess your previous relationship
must now be in, but for the moment, I must say I'm thrilled for both
of you."

"Thank you, CJ."  I pull back.  "I'm not sure how official we'd like
to make it at this point, so if you could--"

"Relax," she says.  "I won't tell a soul, but you might want to tell
your boyfriend to tone down the strutting."

"I'll take care of it," I say.  In fact, it will be my pleasure to
tell Josh to stop with the swagger.  He looks like a barnyard animal
sometimes.

"Congratulations, Donna."  She pats my arm and turns to walk away.  "I
almost forgot why I came here.  Tell your idiot boss to bring me the
five files I asked for by 6 o'clock today."

"Ok."

*
I walk into Josh's office, prepared to see his thousand watt smile.
Instead, he's holding his head in his hand, sulking.

"Josh?"  I feel my brow crease in concern.

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong?"  I step closer to his desk.

"I forgot about dinner with the Santos staff tonight."

My shoulders slump, but I try to keep the disappointment out of my
voice.  "What's the big deal?"

"Close the door."

I do as instructed, and when I turn around, Josh is standing two feet away.

He grabs my hand.  "I wanted to do the morning after thing."

How in the hell am I supposed to admonish him for the strutting when
he says something like that?

"There will be plenty of mornings, Josh."  I brush my hair behind my ear.

"Yeah, but our first one was a bust."  He puts his hand on the small
of my back and pulls me closer.  "So I thought we'd have a make-up
morning tomorrow."

"First of all, I don't consider this morning a bust."  I shrug.  "You
could come over after dinner."

"Really?"  He looks like a child who just found the dollar that the
tooth fairy left under his pillow.

"I mean, only if you want to," I say, hiding my grin in the crook of his neck.

He puts his hands on my face and brings it close to his.  "I want to."

Josh licks his lips before kissing me.

The door swings open.  "Tell me you haven't packed the box with the
Credit Lyonnaise--"

I stop kissing Josh at the same time Toby looks up from whatever he was reading.

"D‚j… vu is a bitch."  He sighs.

"Shut the door, Toby."  Josh says, clenching his jaw.

He closes the door slowly until there's a soft click.  Josh never lets
go of my hand.  He sits on the front of his desk.

I look at him, expecting to see apprehension on his face.  Instead,
Josh is grinning from ear to ear.  "She's mine."

"Josh!"  I hit his arm, then look at Toby.  "Forgive him, Toby.  He's
on medication."

"It's not your fault, Donna," Toby sighs.  "The walk pretty much gave it away."

Josh stands.  "I'm not on medication."

"You're going to be if you don't keep your mouth shut," I say through
gritted teeth.

"I have an idea," Toby says, scratching his head.  "If I'm within 500
feet of you at any time, try keeping your hands to yourselves."

I blush.  "Sorry about this, Toby -"

He holds up his hand.  "Don't worry about it.  As for why you chose
*him*, I'll never comprehend."

"There are mysteries in this life none of us will understand," I say.

"Hey!" Josh yells.

"I'll let you two take care of business."  I walk toward the door.

"Oh, and Josh?"  I put my hand on the door knob, then turn to face my
boss.  "I am not yours.  You don't posses me."

"I sure as hell possessed you last night."  He smirks.

"Tonight, Joshua, you won't possess anything except your remote control."

Toby clears his throat.  I take that as my cue to leave.

***
Since I missed the first five hours of the day, I end up staying at
work much later than planned.  In fact, I'm the last person to leave
the West Wing at 9:45 p.m.

I get home at 10:15 p.m., kick off my shoes and draw a hot bath.  I'm
not sure if Josh took me seriously when I told him that he'd only
posses the remote control tonight.  Because he could, you know, posses
me several times tonight.

Just as I'm about to step into the tub, I hear a knock at my door.
Make that *pounding* on my door.

"Donna?"

I hastily wrap my robe around my body then answer the door.  "You
sound like a madman out here."

Josh steps inside and slams the door.  He pulls me into his chest.
"Would you think I was a lesser man if I told you I couldn't stop
thinking about you at dinner tonight?"

I scratch my head.  "Um, yes?"

He captures my lips with his and squeezes me so tightly I can hardly breathe.

"Then I guess I'm a lesser man."  He grins.

I stand on my tiptoes so I can access his mouth easier, then I run my
hands through his disheveled hair.  "I'm ok with a lesser man."

Josh pulls me to the sofa.

"What's in the box?"  I ask, eyeing the styrofoam container in his hand.

"Cake."  He puts his arm around my shoulders.

"For me?"

"Yeah."  His response doesn't sound genuine.

I open the container and find a piece of tiramisu.  "Josh?"

"Yes?"  He gulps.

"I don't like tiramisu."

"I know."  His body visibly tenses.  "Ronna ordered a huge cake for
dessert.  I took my piece to go."

"You took your dessert home, but you didn't order something for me?"
I fold my arms.

He puts his hands in his lap.  "What was I supposed to say?
'Congressman, would you mind if I ordered a piece of key lime pie to
take home to my girlfriend?'"

I eye him.  "I don't like key lime pie either, Joshua."

He shrugs.  "That's beside the point."

I'm still reeling from him referring to me as his girlfriend, even
though the reference probably flew right past him.  I scoot closer to
Josh, placing one hand on his thigh, the other around his neck.  I
kiss him just below his ear.  "You took your dessert to go?"

"You're just getting that part?"

I trail small kisses down his neck.  "I got to that part about five
minutes ago.  I just like to see you suffer a little."

He brings my hand to his lips.  "What's your favorite dessert?"

I crease my eyebrows.

"What is it?"  He kisses the palm of my hand.

I shrug.  "I don't know.  I like chocolate chip cookies, brownies with
walnuts, red velvet cake, coconut cream pie -"

"Favorite usually means one," he interrupts.

I sigh.  "You."

His dimples are better than any cupcake.  I kiss one, then move to the
other.  I work my way down to his lips.

We make out on the sofa for half an hour.  When we're finally aware of
anything besides each other, I realize that my robe is completely off,
and Josh is completely dressed.

"I was going to take a bath," I say, pushing away from him a bit with
my hand on his chest.

"Don't let me stop you."  He rubs my bare back.

"You stopped me from the minute you walked in the door."  I loosen the
knot in his tie.

"Is it my fault I'm irresistible?"

Damn those dimples!  I push myself into a sitting position.  "It's
your fault this little make out session is over."  I stand up,
wrapping my robe around my body.

"Don-na," he whines.  "Where are you going?"

"To soak in a lukewarm tub of water," I reply.

"After that?" he asks, standing in front of me.  He puts his arms
around my waist.

"After that, Joshua, I'm going to bed."

He smirks and kisses me on the forehead.  "Good."

***
Fifteen minutes later, I peek into my bedroom and see Josh with his
back against the headboard, reading a book.  Only the lamp beside my
bed is on, and the dim light casts golden shadows across his bare
chest.  Although his lower body is covered with the white sheets, I
can tell Josh's legs are crossed at his ankles.

I step into the bedroom, and the wooden floor creaks.

Josh looks up.  "How was your bath?"

"Cold.  I took a shower instead."  I don't know why, but I'm nervous.
I wipe my palms on my robe.

He smiles.  "You smell nice."

"It's angel food cake."  I return the smile and walk to the edge of the bed.

"They make soap that smells like dessert?"  He creases his brow and
puts the book on his lap.

"It's sugar scrub and body lotion."  I put one knee on the mattress
and fiddle with my robe's cloth belt.  "There are all kinds of
flavors: crŠme brul‚e, vanilla, coconut, chocolate fondue, lemon
meringue."

"A veritable pastry shop."  He smirks.  "Is any of it edible?"

"Not that I'm aware," I reply.

Josh holds his hand out to me, and my heart flips in my chest.  My
nerves are still swimming in my stomach, but they're morphing into
excitement and anticipation.

I sit next to him on the bed, and Josh takes a big whiff.  "You're
making me hungry."

"You could eat your tiramisu."

Josh leans over and kisses me.  "I'm not getting out of this bed."  He
puts one hand on my cheek, the other on my shoulder.  He kisses my
chin, then my neck.  He opens my robe just a bit and places an
open-mouth kiss on my chest.  "You're right, it's not edible."  He
looks up and licks his lips.

"I'm sure you can buy edible body lotion.  In fact, I think Margaret
had some the other day."  I adjust against his side.

"The last thing I want think of is Margaret and edible body lotion."
He rubs his thumb across the top of my hand.

I turn my hand over, and Josh traces little patterns on my palm.  It
tickles, but it's kind of turning me on.

"What were you reading?"

With his free hand, he turns the book on his lap over.  "The President
handed it to me today."

"The DaVinci Code?  This book has been out for years."

"I haven't read a novel for pleasure in years."  He grins.  "I can't
stop reading it."

I take the book from him, noticing he's on page 14.  "You're either a
slow reader or you're lying."

"I read 13 pages earlier today."  He gazes at me.  "How am I supposed
to concentrate when you're all wet and naked, 30 feet away?"

"You could've joined me," I whisper, leaning in to kiss his shoulder.

"Now you tell me?"  He lifts my chin and kisses my lips.  "We're going
to have to work on the communication."

"I always thought we did a good job in that department."  I shrug.

Josh lies flat on his back and pulls me on top of him.  "Yes, but this
is a different type of communicating."

"How so?"  I run my fingertips down his arm.  He gets goose bumps.

"I'm always going to want sex, Donna.  You're going to have to tell me
when I can get it."  He smirks.

I laugh at him.  "I have to tell you?"

He nods.

"I know we're in the very early stages of this, Josh, but I can't
imagine not wanting to have sex with you as often as you want to have
sex with me."  I give him a slow, wet kiss.  "In fact, I might want it
more."

"That's highly unlikely."  Josh flips me over and pins me to the mattress.

It doesn't take long for my first orgasm to hit, and it takes a
surprisingly short time for me to fall over the edge a second time.
It isn't until after midnight when Josh finally lets himself go.

Tonight was mostly about me.  Tomorrow morning, I'll repay Josh with interest.

End Part 8

***
Previously:
"I know we're in the very early stages of this, Josh, but I can't
imagine not wanting to have sex with you as often as you want to have
sex with me."  I give him a slow, wet kiss.  "In fact, I might want it
more."

"That's highly unlikely."  Josh flips me over and pins me to the mattress.

Limerance: Part 9

***
The week before we turn the reins over to President-elect Matt Santos,
there are over 30 farewell parties in greater D.C.  The staff pulls
straws to determine who goes where, but there's one party none of us
will miss - the party in the Residence.  It's not really a party, per
se; it's more like a gathering of friends, hosted by the President and
his wife.

Josh and I haven't attended any of the festivities together.  We'd
just as soon avoid publicity about our relationship for as long as
possible.  We've had several conversations about this, and agreed that
keeping our relationship relatively private for a while longer is for
the best.  This isn't to say we won't go out for a night on the town.
We will - just not yet.

We are, however, going to the Residence together.  Of course, it's
just a few hundred feet from our office, but we're walking there hand
in hand.

"You're shaking," Josh says, squeezing my hand.

"I'm cold," I lie.

He releases my hand and puts his arm around my shoulder.

Despite this being a small private gathering, the President insisted
upon formal attire.  I bought a new long black dress for this
occasion.  The top is a paisley design with small holes all over, and
there's only one strap across my left shoulder.  The slit up the right
side goes nearly to my hip.  I had to bribe Josh with the promise of
three alcoholic beverages if he'd stop staring at me like a
Neanderthal.

Josh, for his part, looks incredible.  I've always admired him in a
tux, but the white tie is my favorite.  Helping him with the bowtie
took longer than usual because he distracted me with his hands and
lips.

"You're nervous," he states.

I glance up at him.  "Why would I be nervous?"

He rubs my arm.  "Because we're about to walk into a room full of
friends who have yet to see us together like this."

I stop walking and sigh.  "Maybe we should enter separately."

"You don't want to be seen with me?"  Josh keeps his voice down, but
his eyebrows rise.

"Don't be ridiculous."  I brush my hair behind my ear.  "It's just...I
feel like if we walk in there hand in hand, all of the attention will
be focused on us instead of the President."

He lowers his head, then puts his hands in his pockets.  "CJ should be
out here any minute.  You'll wait for her?"

I nod, but I know my face reflects the worry and nervousness I feel right now.

Josh looks in both directions, then kisses me soundly on the lips.
"I'll see you inside."

When he walks away, I take a deep breath.  I place my hand on my chest
and feel my heart beating fast.

"I've never been a fan of formal attire, especially for a party with
less than 20 people."

I turn around to see Toby walking toward me, fastening his cufflinks.

"Toby."

He grins.

"I guess this is it."

He exhales.  "Yeah."

"When do you leave for New York?"  I rub my hands together, trying to keep warm.

"Loose ends will keep me around for another month or so."  He finishes
fastening one cufflink and moves to the next.  "Is Josh already
inside?"

I nod.

Toby lets out a half-laugh.  "He left you out here in the cold?"

"You know Josh and his chivalry," I say, rolling my eyes.  "Actually,
I asked him to go in before me.  I'm waiting for CJ."

"Ah."  Toby turns around.  "She was behind me a minute ago."

"I'll wait."  I smile.

He eyes me from head to toe.  "If I were Josh, I'd never let you out
of my sight," he whispers.

"Toby."  I blush.

"Where the hell did you go, Tobias?  I thought you were in the men's
room this whole time?"  CJ's hurrying along the walkway as fast as she
can in her heels.

"That was 15 minutes ago, Claudia Jean.  Did you think I was taking a
shower in there?"  He grins.

Ignoring him, CJ looks at me.  "That dress is gorgeous!"

"Thank you," I reply.  "So is yours."

Toby, CJ and I walk into the Residence together.  The two of them head
off in search of alcohol, but I take my time surveying the room.

Nancy McNally, who has aged incredibly gracefully, appears to be in a
serious discussion with Miles Hutchison.  Kate is sitting on the sofa,
laughing with Leo.  Those two seem to have hit it off.  I don't want
to explore that thought any further.  Ed and Larry are talking to
Annabeth, who looks gorgeous in a sparkly red dress.  I wonder, not
for the first time, if Ed and Larry would share the same woman.  The
President and Mrs. Bartlet are walking around the room, greeting
everyone.  Mrs. Bartlet is doing most of the talking.  The President
seems...reflective.  I spot Josh talking to Charlie near the makeshift
bar in the back of the room.  Josh is all confidence and dimples.
Charlie looks like a distinguished gentleman in his tuxedo.

Josh catches my eye and raises his glass.  I walk toward him, saying
hello to the President and Mrs. Bartlet along the way.  Charlie is
talking to him, but Josh never takes his eyes off me.  His face is
serious, but there's a hint of a smile he's not ready to share.  His
eyes are wide and his jaw is set.  It's a look no one else is meant to
recognize, but I know it.  He looked at me like this last night.

"Hey," he says when I finally reach him.  One hand holds a champagne
flute, the other is in his pocket.

I hesitate briefly before I kiss Josh on the side of the mouth.

When I pull back, he's grinning.

"Hey, Donna," Charlie says.  "Can I get you something to drink?"

Charlie seems unfazed by me kissing Josh.

"You look handsome."  I put my hand on his arm.  "What are you drinking?"

"Rum and Coke.  Would you like the same?"  Charlie asks.

Josh hands me a glass of champagne.

"I guess I'm drinking champagne," I say, raising it to toast both men.

I spend most of the evening, sharing memories with the people who
watched me grow from Midwestern college dropout campaign volunteer to
a valuable member of the Bartlet administration.  Toby makes me laugh,
and Leo nearly makes me cry.  Through it all, Josh is by my side.

Every once in a while, I feel his hand on my arm or at the small of my
back.  Sometimes it's me touching him.  The way we move together is
like a well-choreographed dance: the rhythm flows no matter where we
are.  I realize how naturally I gravitate toward Josh.  I find myself
smiling at him without provocation.

The President stands in the middle of the room, gently hitting his
champagne flute with the tines of a fork.  "Well, people, it's come
down to this."

Everyone gathers closer, and silence falls upon the room.

"In my wildest dreams, I never imagined serving one term as President
of the United States, much less two."  He looks around the room.  "And
I wouldn't be here tonight if any of you weren't by my side through it
all."

I notice CJ, taking Kleenex out of her purse.  I smile.

"Charlie Young," The President begins.  "From the moment I met you, I
knew you were a remarkable young man."

Charlie lowers his head, and Josh puts an arm around his shoulders.

"It must've been a nightmare, making those 6 a.m. wake up calls when
I'd just gone to sleep three hours earlier."  He smiles.  "You've made
a name for yourself here, Charlie.  You didn't make waves and never
once complained about your responsibilities, as small or large as they
were."  The President walks over to him.  "Knowing you makes me proud.
 And not that you need it or necessarily want it, but you've always
had my blessing concerning my youngest daughter."

I blink back tears as the President embraces Charlie.

"While I consider myself incredibly wise, I'm sure you all agree Plato
was even wiser."  The President walks back and stands next to his
wife.  "In his Symposium, Plato said 'each of us is always seeking the
other half.'"  He faces Abbey.  "I don't have to tell you, Abigail,
you are my other half. You've held me together through unthinkable
situations, and for that and so much more, I love you dearly."  He
kisses her on the lips.

I dab the corner of my eye.  I wonder how many people in the world
share a love like this.  With everything they've had to endure, the
President and Mrs. Bartlet have proven that love finds a way.

After a moment, the President steps back to the center of the room.
"I am a better man because of your tenacity, Toby; your determination,
Josh; your ethical barometer; Claudia Jean and your unwavering,
brotherly support, Leo."

The President says a few sentences about everyone, and I can tell some
people are finding it difficult not to let their emotions show.

"Debbie, Margaret, Carol, Ginger, Bonnie - you are all incredibly
capable, intelligent women.  No one on my staff would be half as
successful as they are without you."  He grins at me.  "Ah,
Donnatella."

I lower my head and feel Josh behind me.  He puts his hand on my lower
back where no one can see.

The President looks at Josh, which means all eyes are on both of us.
"Josh, you have a brilliant mind.  You're a political powerhouse in
your own right.  I owe many of my victories to your wrangling of
Congressmen."

A few people chuckle.  I'm sure Josh is grinning.  His leg is bouncing
against the back of mine.

"I hope I don't offend you by saying this, Joshua, but you're only
half a man without that woman beside you."  The President lifts his
glass toward me.

I know my cheeks are pink.

"If only everyone was so blessed."  The President smiles.  Abbey hooks
her arm through his.

I bite my lip and feel Josh's hand snake around my waist.  His palm
lays flat against my stomach, and he pulls me until my back rests
against his chest.  I raise my left hand to cover Josh's.

"I'm not sure what your plans are tomorrow or next week or a month
from now." The President walks toward us.  "But you'd be fools not to
make those plans together."  He looks at me.  "You deserve it all,
Donna."  Then he looks at Josh.  "If this bumbling idiot makes you
happy, then God bless."

I smile.

Josh shakes the President's hand.  "I won't let you down, sir."

"You never have."  He pats Josh on the shoulder, then joins Abbey in
the center of the room.

Josh kisses the top of my head.

Everyone in this room knows about the shift in our relationship, but
no one (except Toby) has seen any indication that we're more than
friends.

I don't care who's watching us.  To be honest, I highly doubt anyone's
really interested.  They all seem engrossed in their own
conversations.  I lift my head and kiss Josh on the lips.  By no means
is it a passionate kiss, but it lingers longer than a platonic one.

Josh puts his arms around my waist and folds his hands at my lower
back.  "What the President said is true, Donna."

I lay my hands on his chest.  "The part about you being a bumbling idiot?"

He smiles.  "I'm half a man without you."

"Josh."  I blush.

"This looks like an opportunity for a group hug," CJ says, arms spread
wide.  She's got an impressive wingspan.  She pulls both of us into
her chest and squeezes.  "We're never losing touch, you know."

"Who said anything about losing touch?"  I ask.  "You're working five
miles from here, Josh isn't leaving the building, and I'm at
Georgetown for the next year."

"But Toby -"

"Toby will be in town at least once a month," I interrupt.  "His kids
are here.  His friends are here."

"What friends?"  Josh asks.

I elbow him in the ribs.

"Ow!"

Toby approaches from behind.  "Whatever that was for, Donna, I'm sure
it was well deserved."

"We should take a picture.  The four of us,"  CJ announces.

"Let me just call Annie Lebovitz," Toby says, looking around like he's
trying to find the famous photographer.

"Annabeth has a camera," she says.

Josh finds Annabeth and asks her to take our picture.  She tells us to
squish together so we'll all fit in the frame.  Josh is on my right,
holding my hand where we think the camera can't see; Toby's on my left
with his arm over my shoulders; CJ is next to Toby, her right arm
hooked in his.

"Smile!"

We find out later that Annabeth snapped another shot of all of us
immediately after the posed photo.  In this one, Josh is kissing me on
the cheek, and we both look incredibly happy.  CJ and Toby are locked
in a deep embrace.  Toby's eyes are closed as he rests his chin on
CJ's shoulder.  CJ looks like she's choking back tears.

By 10 p.m., everyone begins to disperse.  Ed and Larry are the first
to leave, followed by Miles Hutchison and Kate.  Annabeth and Leo
appear to be in an intense conversation.  The President has cornered
Nancy McNally, and it looks like Mrs. Bartlet is trying to rescue her.

"Marc Broussard's playing at Iota tonight."  Toby says while chewing
on a cocktail straw.

"The guy from Louisiana?"  CJ asks.  "I love him."

Toby turns to her.  "Are you speculating he's from Louisiana based on
his last name, or do you actually, you know, like his music?"

She swats him on the arm.  "I downloaded one of his songs the other day."

"You know how to download music?"  Josh asks.

Toby takes the straw out of his mouth.  "Any phone calls from the
Napster legal department yet?"

"It's legal, Tobias.  Haven't you heard of iTunes?"  CJ takes a sip of
champagne.

"You know how to download music?"  Josh asks again, scratching his head.

"Josh?"

He looks at me.

"You're past your limit."  I remove the glass from his hand.

He reaches for it.  "You said I could have three drinks tonight."

"That's, like, six," I respond, placing the glass on the mantle.

He raises his palms in the air.  "It's champagne, Donna!"

Like that makes it better.  "Oh, how silly of me.  I forgot champagne
is non-alcoholic."  I roll my eyes.

"Are we going or not?"  Toby's bouncing on his toes.

"Hell, yeah," Josh says.

I look at CJ, and an understanding passes between us.  We're going to
be taking care of these morons tonight.

***
We're lucky to get a table at Iota.  Josh snags one in the corner and
fends off the brooding man who claims to have been waiting for it for
an hour.  Once we're seated, I realize we haven't been together like
this in years.

"What's everyone drinking?"  Toby asks.

"I'll have a Madras."  CJ removes her coat with a little help from Josh.

"Mmm, that sounds good," I say.  "I'll have the same."

"Josh?"  Toby looks at him.

Josh is staring at me.  His expression is nondescript, but he's
oblivious as to what's going on around him.

"Josh!"  Toby yells in his ear.

He jumps.  "Yes!  I'll have whatever you're having."

"Two girly drinks and two whiskeys."  Toby leaves.

"You're right, CJ.  This guy's good," I say as Marc Broussard sings
about sleeping late on a Saturday.

Sitting next to Josh is kind of awkward.  Maybe awkward isn't the best
word.  We've gone out together hundreds of times, and we've always
been comfortable.  Now, however, I have butterflies in my stomach.  I
berate myself for not knowing how to act or what to do with Josh "my
lover" rather than Josh "my friend".  I hope he doesn't notice I'm
fidgeting in my seat.

Toby comes back with the four drinks, which he's spilled all over his hands.

"If things don't work out for you in New York, Toby, waiting tables is
not an option," CJ comments, wiping the liquor from the table.

"Damn, I had an interview lined up at Tavern on the Green," he deadpans.

When she's done cleaning the mess, CJ lifts her glass.  "To old friends."

"And new beginnings," Josh says, tapping my glass with his.

Toby smiles genuinely at me, then CJ.

Josh has yet to touch me.  He's alternating between looking at me and
the guy on the small stage.

When I think it's safe to glance at him, I notice his concerned
expression.  I wonder if he's as nervous as I am.  I *know* he wants
to touch my arm or hold my hand - some kind of physical contact.
Doesn't he know I want that too?  Maybe he's worried about making CJ
and Toby uncomfortable.  On second thought, when has Josh ever cared
about what others think?

I twist my hands in my lap and try concentrating on the music.

Marc Broussard is singing a soulful song about a man sitting in a
French caf‚.  Toby and CJ are bickering about which is the best
Italian restaurant in greater DC.  Josh downs the rest of the amber
liquid in his glass, then looks at me.  There's a hint of a smile,
playing at the corners of his mouth.

I feel his hand on my leg, and my heart rises to my throat.  The one
touch makes my body tingle.  My blush rises from my chest to my face.

I feel Josh's hand turn over on my thigh, so I entwine my fingers with
his.  He squeezes it and gulps.  I wonder if he sees me exahale.

It really wasn't awkwardness I was feeling; it was wondering who would
make the first move.  Simply holding Josh's hand is like taking the
first sip of a vintage port - it's warm, smooth and comforting.

I lick my lips.

Josh leans over and kisses my bare shoulder.  When he looks at me,
desire is painted all over his face.  I hope CJ and Toby don't notice
it.

CJ grabs my arm.  "Oh my goodness."  Her eyes are open wide.

I turn to her.  "What's wrong, CJ?"

She points toward the bar.  Standing no more than 30 feet in front of
me is Austin Wainwright.

I let go of Josh's hand, and I feel the blood rush out of my face.
I'm sure the skin that was just perfectly pink is now the shade of
loose-leaf paper.

End Part 9

Next:  Here I am with the man I'm sleeping with on my right and my two
dear friends on my left, staring at the man I *used* to sleep with and
his two friends 30 feet away.  I'm too stunned to move.

One more part!  Thanks for reading.  Mdrgrl1@aol.com

***
Limerance: Part 10

Very few people have surprised me in my life.  My parents threw a
surprise birthday party for me when I turned 16.  After high school
graduation, two friends kidnapped me and took me camping on Lake
Mendota for the weekend.  And eight years ago, Josh gave me my most
treasured Christmas gift: The Art and Artistry of Alpine Skiing.

Here I am with the man I'm sleeping with on my right and my two dear
friends on my left, staring at the man I *used* to sleep with and his
two friends 30 feet away.  I'm too stunned to move.

"You should go over there," CJ whispers.

Toby cranes his neck around to see who we're staring at.  "Isn't that
your ex-boyfriend?"

CJ glares at him.  "Thanks for pointing that out."

Josh is in a defensive position: his back is straight and his jaw is
set.  He doesn't say a word.

I blink my eyes a few times, hoping I'll wake from this nightmare.
The landscape in front of me doesn't change, so I stand on shaky legs.

"I'll be right back."  I brush my hand down Josh's arm before I walk away.

When I approach Austin, he looks shocked.  Because of the lighting, he
doesn't have a good view of our table, so I'm assuming he didn't
notice me earlier.

"Hi, Austin."

"Donna?"  He stands.  Austin was always a gentleman.  "Hi!  What are
you doing here?"

I brush my hair behind my ear.  "CJ and Toby wanted to come hear this guy."

Austin shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at the stage.  "Yeah.
 He's really talented."

"I'd never heard of him before, but I'd have to agree."  I give him my
best smile, which probably isn't much.

"You remember Blake and Theo," he says.

I'd met Austin's friends on several occasions while we were dating.
Blake works with Austin, and Theo was his college roommate.

I nod and shake their hands.  "Nice to see you."

"Likewise," Theo says.  He turns to Austin.  "We're going to grab that table."

Austin nods, then steps closer to me.  "How've you been?"

"Fine.  You?"  I fiddle with the straw in my glass.

"Busy."  Austin smiles.  "God, it's good to see you."

I glance at Josh, but I can't see him well enough to judge his
expression.  If he's watching this interaction, I know he's not
pleased.

Austin touches my arm.  "You look terrific."

I pull away from him and look at my feet.  "Thank you."

"Can I buy you a drink?"  He looks at my nearly empty glass.  "Let me
guess, a Madras?"

"Yes."  I smile.

Austin raises his hand to get the bartender's attention.

"No!"  I quickly pull it down.  "I meant, 'Yes, this is a Madras.'
But you don't have to buy me a drink."

He looks into my eyes.  "I want to."

"You really shouldn't, Austin."  I take a deep breath.  "I'm here
with...some friends."

I'm not trying to cover up the fact that I'm with Josh tonight.  I
just don't want Austin to think I've moved on this quickly.

"I get it."  He forces a smile.

"I don't want there to be any hard feelings between us."  I sigh.
"You deserve better."

"Is there such a thing?"  He huffs.

"You know what I mean."  I put my glass on the bar.

"No, I don't," he says.  "Define 'better.'"  There's no harshness to
his voice; he seems truly interested in my answer.

"A woman who can devote all of herself to you."  I shrug.  "I'm not her."

"I can't imagine being with someone better than you, Donna." He smiles
a sad smile.  "But I agree:  You can't be devoted to me when you've
loved someone else for nearly a decade."

I touch his hand.  "I'm so sorry."

"You apologized two weeks ago."  He squeezes my hand.  "We'll move past it."

"Hopefully as friends," I say.

"It's going to take a little more time on my end, but, yes.  I'd like
to remain friends."

If I had a single girlfriend, I'd definitely set her up with Austin
once enough time passed.

"Make way, make way," CJ says as she maneuvers through the crowd
carrying three empty glasses.  "My companions are part camel."  She
sets the glasses down on the bar.

"Looks like it," Austin comments.

"How are you, Austin?"  CJ hugs him.

"Hanging in there," he says against her shoulder.  "How about you?"

When they pull away from each other, CJ straightens her dress.
"Feeling a bit nostalgic tonight.  Otherwise, I'm doing well."

"Have you been using your nine iron?"  Austin makes a swinging motion
like he's holding a golf club.

"I have, actually."  CJ orders four more drinks.  "I went to the
driving range last Sunday."

"Really?"  Austin and I ask simultaneously.

I knew CJ played golf on rare occasions, but I had no idea she'd gone
to the driving range last weekend.

"It was a beautiful, unseasonably warm day."  She shrugs.  "I wanted
to be outdoors, so I figured I'd hit some balls."

CJ thanks Cynthia for the cocktails and tells her to put the drinks on
Toby's tab.

"You should call me next time," Austin says.  "I can get a couple of
free hours."

"I'll do that."  CJ smiles at him, then turns to me.  "Donna, will you
help me carry these drinks back to the table?"

I pick up two glasses.  "It was good to see you, Austin."

"You too, Donna."  He leans in to kiss my cheek.  "Take care."

I'm still a bit shocked by what just happened here.  CJ golfs on
weekends?  Austin wants her to call him next time she hits the driving
range?

"I think I just sold my soul to Josh to get him to stay seated," she
says once we're out of earshot.

I glance at her.  "What do you mean?"

"Are you kidding?  If you haven't noticed, your boyfriend is a jealous
and protective man."  She steps down the two steps close to our table.
 "He tried coming to rescue you at least five times."

While I'm not a fan of jealousy under normal circumstances, I
appreciate the significance behind Josh's actions.  Even more, I'm
glad he restrained himself.

I set the drinks down on the table, then sit next to Josh.

"You have some slobber on your cheek," he says, clenching his jaw.

"Josh."  I warn.

He shifts in his seat.  "I'll split a cab with CJ and Toby if you want
to stay here with your ex-boyfriend."

"That's our cue."  Toby stands.  "CJ?"

She takes her drink in one hand and Toby's arm in the other.  CJ gives
me a "good luck" look, then walks away.

Josh tugs at his bowtie.  "Why is it that every time I come here,
something bad happens?"

"Don't do this."  I lower my head.

"No, seriously.  First it was you, Jack Reese and the quote in The
Post.  Now it's your ex-boyfriend *kissing* you right in front of me."

"He didn't kiss me," I say, raising my eyebrows.

"I saw him, Donna."  Josh's struggle with the bowtie ends.  He lets it
hang around his neck and unhooks two buttons on his shirt.  "This
place is cursed."

"Austin kissed me on the cheek."  I huff.  "It's not like we made out."

Josh looks at me with a pained expression.  "His hands were on you."

"We had a conversation, for God's sake!"  I raise my voice.  "Austin
knows I can't be with him."

"Why not?" Josh's voice is barely above a whisper.

"Because I'm in love with you!"  I announce in a loud voice as if it's
the most natural explanation in the world.

Now that I think about it, I may have overstated my case.

Josh is all dimples and smugness.

"With me?" he asks, pointing to his chest.

"You feel the need to clarify?"  I put my hand on his thigh.

"I feel the need to strip you out of that dress and drag you to the
nearest booth."  He leans closer to me.

He smells like whiskey and a trace of cologne.

"You're not Superman, Joshua."  I whisper in his ear.

He brings one hand to the side of my head, and lodges his fingers in
my hair.  "Wasn't he fond of telephone booths?  Cause right now, any
booth would do."

"Who needs a booth?"  I close the distance and kiss Josh for all I'm
worth.  It's not an innocent kiss.  In fact, it's not the kind of kiss
that should be displayed in public.

Josh brings his other hand to my upper arm and pulls me to him.  If I
were any closer, I'd be on his lap.  His lips are soft, but his chin
and cheeks are stubbly.

Josh breaks the kiss, and we're both panting.  He puts his forehead
against mine and rubs my cheek.  "I'm a jealous man, Donnatella."

"Really?"  I rub his neck and let my hand trail down his chest.  "I
never would've guessed."

He chuckles.  "And you still want to be with me?"

"I still *need* to be with you," I say before kissing him softly.

"If I wanted to see a makeout session, I would've gone home and
watched Cinemax."

I look up to see Toby, taking his seat.  CJ is right behind him.

"Everything ok over here?" she asks.

Josh releases me but grabs my hand under the table.  "Where the hell
did you two go?"

"A quickie in the parking lot," Toby says.

"You wish."  CJ slaps his arm.

I knew if Josh and I ended up together, the hardest part would be
admitting how we feel.  Tonight, I think we both learned a lesson.
Josh needs to trust my feelings for him.  I need to understand how
protective and jealous he can be.

We worked together for nine years, spent more waking hours together
than is conventionally reasonable, and shared so much of ourselves
with each other.  Despite all this, it appears there is still new
territory to explore, new aspects of each other we need to learn.
After all, isn't that half the challenge of being in love?

The End

Notes: A final thanks to Ro and JP for their beta skills. Ro, you made
this story come alive.

For over four months, I've had ideas on how this story should end.
This isn't it.  A sequel is dancing in my head, but my muse has left
the building.  When she comes back, there's a chance I'll pick up
"Limerance" again.  If you'd like to read more in this world, e-mail
me at mdrgrl1@aol.com.  Thank you for reading and supporting me
through feedback.

For all of my stories, visit http://hometown.aol.com/mdrgrl1/.  It
needs some serious maintenance or another host, so I'm not sure if
I'll be able to post "Limerance" on this AOL website.