Title: Greetings From... Author: Christine Pairing: Josh/Donna Spoilers: Starts somewhere post-Cold but pre-Election Day and ends in the future not seen Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine. Alas. Feedback: Better than sitting on a beach at ck_hoch@yahoo.com Notes: Another fic started long ago and revived when Meg started linking me to all sorts of B&B sites. Caz and Yana have put up with more than any beta should have to, but they've also been wonderful at putting me back on track. THANK YOU. ~~~ "Explain to me - again - why we're here?" Josh said as they followed the Santos family down the cracked sidewalk of the tiny New York town. Speaking slowly, as if to a child, Donna recited the same line she'd been giving the press all week. "Because the candidate and his wife thought this trip would be a good opportunity for their family to have a bit of a vacation as well as connect with New York voters. You were there in the meeting, Josh." "I've been in a lot of meetings," he replied absently as he looked around them. "Just be thankful they didn't choose Niagara Falls or Six Flags as their destination. Can you imagine the security we'd need for either of those places?" she asked, pulling open the door to the white clapboard building in front of them. "Don't remind me," Josh groaned as he followed her inside. "That still doesn't explain what we're doing *here*." She smiled, knowing exactly where he was going with his line of questioning. "Here?" "This... this place," he complained, taking off his sunglasses and glancing around the dim interior of the building. "The Jell-O museum?" she asked, smirking at his expression of distaste and enjoying the fact that she could finally needle him again - about this or about *anything* - without any moments full of tense, awkward silence. He grimaced. "Yes." "It's a part of Americana, Josh." "It's a little hick museum in a little hick town, Donna!" "A little town with history.". "A very dubious history. And a lousy ad-hoc museum no one cares about." "I care about it." "Of course you do! I amend my statement - a lousy ad-hoc museum that no one but the Le Roy Historical Society and one Donnatella Moss care about," Josh said, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the Santos and the press were out of earshot. "New York isn't even in play! We should be in Illinois. Or North Carolina. Someplace where we still need to win." "We will be," she reminded him. "We're just taking a small break to soak up some local color first." "I'd prefer if it were somewhere with more nationally important color," he muttered. "Stop being so grumpy." "I am *not* grumpy." "Yes, you are. How can you be grumpy when we're at a Jell-O museum?" she asked, glancing around at the items for sale. "Precisely because I *am* - " He was cut off by a smothered laugh from Donna. "You should get these," she proclaimed as she held up a pair of white boxer shorts with neon words printed all over them. "'Watch it wiggle, see it jiggle'?" Josh read. "Why would I possibly want a pair of boxers that say that?" "Because they're cute," she said, shooting him a playful smile. "Besides, maybe they'd help make you less grumpy." "Or make me even more so," he grumbled. He shot a sideways glance at her. "Seriously, what makes you think I need boxers like that?" "Because everyone needs to own something frivolous like them at some point in their life." "Like pink panties with their name written in them?" he asked, his mood suddenly lightening. Her face flushed hotly. "That isn't fair! My suggestion that you buy these has nothing to do with that." "It absolutely is fair! I got a pair of panties with your name neatly printed in them mailed to me," he reminded her. "If you think that isn't something I'm going to men-" "They were leftovers from college!" she interjected. "Let me tell you, Donna, I went to college. I went to Harvard. I went to Yale. Not once -" "They were from my mother! She was worried I would lose them." She realized too late that her explanation would only serve to fuel Josh's mirth. "In the dorm's laundry!" He chortled gleefully. "Well, she wasn't completely wrong. She just missed the where and when by a few years." Before he could say anything more - and more importantly, before anyone else could get close enough to overhear their conversation - his cell phone rang. As he stepped away to take the call, she took the pair of the boxers she'd been holding to the cashier and bought them. Who knew when they'd come in handy? ~~~ "Hey," he said softly when she picked up the phone. "Hey." "Any chance you'd be able to get away for a few days, starting tonight?" he asked, plunging right to the heart of the matter before he lost his nerve. "It's the middle of transition," she said, sounding confused. "Yeah." He took a deep breath. "I know it's not the best time, but can you be packed and at the airport by nine o'clock?" "Josh, how can either of us just -" "I don't know," he said. And he didn't. This was the least opportune moment to be taking off for destinations unknown. But there was no other way. Not if he wanted to keep his job and not if he wanted to keep Donna. "If we have any chance in hell of talking this out... it's now or never, Donna." "Josh..." He could picture her nibbling her lip, weighing the pros and cons. There was a muffled conversation on her end and then she asked, "Where?" "Where are we going or -?" "Where should I meet you?" "Delta, flight 6593. Get a pen and I'll give you the reservation confirmation," he said, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "And Donna? Pack something for the beach." ~~~ "Donna!" Josh called out as he rummaged through his suitcase. "I can't find any clean boxers!" "Don't shout," she called from the adjoining bathroom. "I'm right here." He continued pulling things out willy-nilly, only pausing when he glanced up and noticed her standing in the doorway. She was leaning against the doorjamb, hand on her hip, and wearing nothing but a very tiny towel. "I see." "Stop ogling," she instructed, pushing away from the jam and stepping into the bedroom. He leered comically at her. "Why?" "Because we're in my brother's home," she said. "Do you really want to be late for dinner on our first night here because we've been having sex?" He took a minute to think about it. "It depends. Just how late would we be, and would your family realize why we were late?" "Too late and yes." He snorted and went back to pawing through the suitcase. "Fine. So back to my original question - where are all my clean boxers?" "I don't know. Where did you put them?" she asked, sidling up next to him and snagging a bra and a pair of her own underwear from the case. "Ha ha. If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you." She held up a pair with some neon lettering on them and waved them at him. "Aren't these clean?" "Those aren't - wait, I remember those. They're from that place we went to during the campaign last year." "Le Roy, New York." "Yeah." His brow crinkled in confusion. "I didn't buy those." "I did," she admitted, ducking her head to hide the small blush suddenly creeping up her neck. He stared at her dumbly for a moment before a slow smirk started to form. "Why Donna, did you buy those for me?" "No. I bought them for *me*," she said, tossing the boxers at him and dropping her towel to don her own undergarments. He thought about it for a moment. The trip to New York had been *after* their first kiss and *after* the botched key exchange. There was no way her purchase had been made entirely for herself. His smirk got bigger. "For you? Really?" "They were cute boxers. That's all," she demurred. "Uh huh." He dropped the boxers back into the suitcase and then shoved the whole thing onto the floor. With a predatory look in his eyes, he gently pushed her down onto the bed. "Josh... we can't." "Can't?" he asked, following her down and kissing her shoulder. "Shouldn't," she corrected, though he could tell her heart wasn't in it. "We'll be late." He kissed a path up her creamy neck, then lifted his head to look at her. "Donna? I hate to tell you this, but I don't care. We're going to be late." ~~~ "It was really sweet of the First Lady to insist we stay here," Donna commented as they ascended the creaky staircase of the bed and breakfast. "Yeah, really sweet," Josh muttered. She glanced over her shoulder at him. "You don't like the idea of a romantic getaway?" "Of course I like the idea of a romantic getaway! But that's not what this is. This is the President and the First Lady trying to buy us off for calling short our weekend trip." Donna shrugged. "Probably. But I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth." "And there it is." She stopped in the middle of the hallway and shot him a disgruntled look. "Would you rather we stayed at the Santos' house?" He stopped mere inches from her and contemplated his answer. "Maybe?" "We're not that far," Donna said. "We can be there in minutes if there's an emergency. Meanwhile, staying here gives us some privacy and time to ourselves." "I'm not complaining about that," Josh countered as he moved around her and tried to unlock the door to their room. "I *want* time alone with you. That's what the whole trip to Virginia was supposed to be." "Then why are you complaining?" "I'm complaining because if this thing with China is critical enough to cancel our trip, then it's critical enough that I should be in constant contact with the President and not fifteen minutes away." He stopped and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I can't get the key." With a small huff of impatience, she grabbed the ordinary brass key from him and inserted it in the lock. "Honestly, Josh there's nothing difficult about this sort of key. Insert, turn, open. See?" He kept on talking, ignoring her demonstration. "What if they decide to escalate things in the middle of the night? Wouldn't it make more sense -" He stopped suddenly when she slammed the door, locking them out of their room once again. "Oh my God," she breathed. "What?" Josh demanded. "If there's some Chinese Ambassador lying in wait in there, I'm leaving." "No, it's not a Chinese Ambassador," she said, smothering a laugh. "It's worse." "Worse?" "Much worse," she said, unable to keep a straight face. "C'mon, Donna, let me see," he whined. "Okay, but you asked for it," she said, moving away and letting him open the door on his own. "Oh, my God." Josh echoed her earlier statement as he swung the door wide and took in the vast amount of lace and other... girly stuff... that decorated the room. "I warned you! Don't say I didn't warn you." "Yeah, but... wow... this is just... " "Every six-year-old girl's fantasy?" Donna suggested, chuckling as she pushed past him into the room. "I was going to say every grown man's hell, but sure, let's go with yours." He snorted as he stepped inside and took in the full effect. "Seriously, six rooms in this place, and we get the one that belonged to Ken and Barbie?" "Which would you have preferred? The Cupid's Boudoir?" "Nooo. No, no, no, no." He cocked his head. "There's one called the Cupid's Boudoir?" "Also an angelically themed one and one named for a US Senator," Donna noted, scanning the brochure the woman downstairs had given them. "A senator? We couldn't have gotten that one?" "Don't get your hopes up. If this picture is anything to go by, it's nearly as bad." He looked over her shoulder at the brochure. "Which senator was it named for? "Senator Mayfield?" Josh nodded, recognizing the name. "Senator from the 40's. Not very popular with the party or in his state, but still, any room named for him has to be better than this," Josh said, flopping down on the overstuffed, overly feminine bed. Donna looked over at him and giggled. He scowled. "What?" "Just... You. With the ruffles and the pink," she snickered. "Laugh now, Strawberry Shortcake, but you're going to have to sleep here too," he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her down next to him. ~~~ "Do you realize where we are, Donna?" Josh asked as they gazed at the roaring water below them. "Not Fiji, that's for sure." He pulled his gaze away from the falls and scowled at her. "It's not like I made you go to Florida." "Only because you knew I'd never go to see the Mets play in an exhibition game that doesn't even count." "I never said I'd make you go see the Mets with me if we'd gone to Florida," he protested. "Yes, you did," she pointed out. His brows shot together. "When?" "Last month. When I first brought up the idea of getting away for a few days." "Fine. Whatever. That was last month. This is this month," he said, turning to lounge against the rail. "Yes." "And we're vacation." "Yes." "Away from Washington." "Yes." "Just like you wanted." "Yes." "You make it sound like I dragged you to Timbuktu," he complained. "Where would you have preferred we go instead?" She didn't even take a second to think about it. "Fiji." "Fiji? What? No! Besides, I only managed to convince Sam to cover things at the White House for three days." "We could have gone to New York City," she reminded him. "The MET, Central Park, the Museum of Modern Art -" "Haven't we both been to New York about a gazillion times already?" he asked, interrupting her. "I wanted to go someplace that neither of us had been before." "I've never been to Fiji. And I'm pretty sure you haven't either." "Where's your sense of adventure?" "On a beach in Fiji where I'll never get a chance to see it," she said with a small pout. "Will you stop with the Fiji thing? We went to Bermuda on our very first vacation together!" "Bermuda isn't Fiji." "C'mon, Donna! Show some enthusiasm. We're at Niagara Falls! Honeymoon capital of the world," he exclaimed. "Also the largest producer of electrical power in the northeast, the inspiration for the name of an asteroid, and the site of New York's first state park," she added, her smile getting wider with each fact she spouted. He narrowed his eyes at her. "You've been playing with me about the Fiji thing, haven't you?" "Maybe just a little bit," she admitted. "Donna!" "Honestly, Josh, I know how hard it was for you to get away," she said, taking off her sunglasses and looking him directly in the eye. "If we'd gone to Fiji we would have spent 3 days on a plane and about an hour on the beach. This is better." "It is better," he said, smiling smugly. "So much better that I think we should take advantage of it." She looked at him, puzzled. "What? The fact that they're the largest producer of electrical power?" "No, the fact that we're at the Honeymoon Capital of the World." "Don't you have to have a wedding before you have a honeymoon?" she asked, smiling at his ridiculousness. Grinning, he folded his arms across his chest. "Exactly." Her face fell. "Josh... we've talked about this." "Exactly! We keep talking about it," he said, pushing away from the rail to pace around while he made his point. "We've been talking about it for months. All we do is talk about it. We're too busy, we're afraid we'll take each other for granted, we're afraid we won't have enough time to devote to actually working on a marriage." "Those are all still really valid reasons." Josh shook his head. "No, they're not. They're excuses." "Valid excuses," she amended. "None of those things change, just because we're here." "No, they don't, but Donna... none of those things is going to change. Including us. We make the time for each other *now*. We work at making this work *now*. So why keep putting it off? Why not actually do something about it? Let's get married!" She offered him an uncertain smile. "Here? Really?" "Yes." "And you're not worried? About any of those things?" "Of course I'm worried! But I know us, Donna. We can do this. We *do* do this. Getting married just gives us a legal document that says our government sanctions our relationship." She nibbled her lips, still clearly hesitant. "And you're not worried how it will look in the press?" "How will it look? We've been together for two years now - eleven if you count all the time we wasted. If Annabeth can't spin this as the most romantic thing ever, you need a new press secretary." Her smile widened, spreading across her entire face. "Then yes, let's get married." ~~~ The security guard greeted them with a smile as usual on Monday morning. "Good morning, Mr. Lyman, Ms. Moss." "Not anymore, it isn't," Josh said with a smirk as he stopped to sign in. The guard looked at him in confusion. "I'm sorry?" "What my *husband* is trying to say, in a clumsy and fairly inaccurate way," Donna replied with a grin as she flashed her left hand at him, "Is that it's no longer just Ms. Moss." Confusion gave way to understanding and the guard smiled widely. "Congratulations!" "Thanks, Fred," Josh said, waiting impatiently for Donna to sign in as well. She signed her name with a flourish and then glanced at the guard. "We haven't broken the news to anyone else yet, so if you don't mind keeping it under wraps for a while...?" Fred nodded. "Certainly, ma'am." "Thanks, Fred." She turned to Josh, who was nearly jumping out of his skin in anticipation. "Ready?" he asked. "Ready." "Good! Now let's go surprise the hell out of our staffs!" ~The End~ visit the rest of my fics at http://www.geocities.com/choch07675