Chapter Text
Donna lets herself into the apartment after her therapy appointment, grateful to get out of the biting December air. Her leg aches today, has been aching pretty consistently since the temperatures started to drop, but she knows Josh is good for a massage later tonight so she’s not too bothered by it.
After shucking her jacket and shoes at the door, she walks over to the couch, dropping down onto it with an audible sigh. She picks up her leg and sets it on the coffee table before letting her eyes drift closed for a moment.
She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knows the door is opening and Josh is stepping through it. Rolling her neck to look at him, she grins, happy to see him and a little sleepy still.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi,” Josh replies, dimples popping out.
As he comes over the couch, his excitement is palpable in the way he’s almost bouncing with each step. She notices he’s got a slim brown paper bag in hand, which looks suspiciously like a bottle from the liquor store around the corner. When he sets it down on the coffee table, there’s a dull thunk that sounds like glass. Before she can ask about it he leans down to kiss her, unable to stop smiling even when their lips are pressed together.
“You’re chipper tonight,” she observes.
“Donnatella,” he singsongs, only proving her point. “Guess what?”
“You finally worked out the secret plan to fight inflation?”
“No, even better,” Josh says, impervious to her teasing. He pauses in a clear attempt at building tension, before blurting, “I got him.”
She stares at him for a few seconds trying to figure out what he means because that’s a little cryptic, even for them. “You got…you got him!”
Josh nods. “He called this afternoon, he’s in.”
“I thought…I mean after you went to Houston I was sure…”
“Me too, but he said he’d had a change of heart.”
Donna laughs, excitement fizzing in her chest. “Holy mother of God, we got him!”
She reaches out a hand so Josh will pull her up from the couch and into his arms. Once she’s standing she immediately cups his face in her hands, kissing him so thoroughly that he’s flushed and breathless when they break apart. Chest heaving, he lifts her a couple inches off the ground and spins her around before gently setting her back down, mindful of her leg.
“Listen,” he says, a little more serious now. “I know we talked about you coming to work on the campaign, but I just wanna make it clear that it’s your call. I know you’ve got a good thing going with Abbey and if you wanna stay here, we’ll make it work.”
When Josh came home after his first meeting with Matt Santos, toying with the idea of asking him to run for president, Donna had been supportive. But the more she thought about it, and the more she looked into the bills Santos had sponsored, the more she started to consider that maybe this was the right move for her too. She loves her job with Abbey, but it’s got a definite expiration date and so she needs to start thinking about her future. Josh is a guaranteed part of that future whether she goes on the campaign with him or not, but she has her own reasons for wanting this, ones that run separate but parallel to his. Still, she appreciates him checking in, the regard he shows for her career.
“Are you kidding me?” she asks him as her hand moves to play with the curl at the nape of his neck. “Of course I’m coming with you. I know this whole thing was a ploy to shake me, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily, Lyman. I’m tenacious.”
“Among other things,” he murmurs before swiftly kissing her again. “We’re gonna run a campaign.”
“We’re gonna win a campaign,” she corrects.
He grins, pressing his lips to her cheek. “I bought us champagne. So we can celebrate.”
“Later,” she purrs, her other hand sliding down to rest on his ass. “Right now I have a better idea.”
“You do, do you?” he asks with a smirk. She nods, bottom lip caught between her teeth. “And what exactly would that be?”
In lieu of a verbal response she playfully squeezes his ass, satisfied at the soft groan it elicits from him. She thinks she has the upper hand, but before she has time to process the movement Josh has swept her off her feet and thrown her over his shoulder. Her surprised yelp turns into a laugh as he carries her down the hallway to their bed.
The first thing he’s aware of is Donna.
She’s draped over his bare chest, her head wedged in the crook of his neck and bumping against his chin. He doesn’t remember falling asleep this way, which means she must have curled herself around him in her sleep.
This is how most of his mornings begin now. His single night in Houston last week had felt close to unbearable, accustomed as he’s become to falling asleep beside her. They’d talked on the phone just before bed, both of them so reluctant to hang up that Donna ended up falling asleep on the line with him. He’d listened to her breath for far longer than he cares to admit, having just enough presence of mind to hang up the phone seconds before he fell asleep himself. It felt disgustingly codependent, but he doesn’t really care.
So now he savors this warm entanglement even more, stroking his palm all the way from the top of her spine down to her right leg where it’s hitched over his thighs. His hand easily finds the raised, toughened line of scar tissue that runs from the middle of her thigh down to just above her knee. He doesn’t have to look to know where it is; at this point her skin has become as familiar to him as his own. He strokes the scar with gentle fingers.
Donna must have already been on the verge of waking up, because the motion of his hand causes her to shift in his arms. She grunts, a sound so endearing it makes Josh’s chest ache. While she may appear to the world as a morning person once she’s up and ready for the day, he knows how much she fights the act of waking up. He savors the experience of it nearly every morning, loves that he gets this little piece of her to himself.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he murmurs.
She doesn’t respond verbally, instead lazily rubbing her hand across his bare chest, warm as it slides against his skin until she finds the scar that bisects his sternum, nearly identical to the one that runs between her breasts. Then her palm shifts until she reaches the round, dimpled scar the bullet left in his side, patting it gently.
It’s a little ritual they’ve formed, making new associations with the scars they’ve each struggled to make their peace with. It’s been deeply healing for him to have Donna touch his scars as if they were any other part of him, or even better, like they’re her favorite part of him.
They lie quietly, running their hands over one another for a few minutes until Donna props her chin on his chest so she can look at him.
“We have to quit our jobs today,” she says, voice gravelly from sleep in a way that drives Josh a little crazy.
“We do,” he agrees, and he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t make him uneasy. “Are you nervous?”
She thinks for a moment. “Not really, no. Abbey knows I’ve been thinking about getting back into campaign work and she said she’ll support me no matter what I choose. Are you?”
“Kinda,” he admits. “I’m not sure how I’m gonna tell the President. I feel…guilty, I guess, for leaving him. Especially now.”
Donna’s expression turns impossibly soft and his heart flutters. “Josh, you’ve given so much of your life to this administration. We both have.” She skates her nails along his ribs, soothing. “We’re allowed to want to do different things and it doesn’t have to be about us leaving anybody.”
Josh’s chest clenches with affection for this woman, the way it does about a hundred times a day. He wraps his arms tightly around her middle, scooting down slightly so that they’re face to face. “You’re very wise, you know that?”
“Oh, I know,” she replies, smiling sleepily. Josh can’t help but kiss her then, soft and slow as his hand moves to cradle her cheek. He keeps their faces close even after they come up for air, noses just inches apart while they hold each other’s gaze.
“We’re gonna run a campaign,” he murmurs into the space between them.
“We are,” she agrees, her hand rubbing up his back. “Together.”
He grins, thinking it’s the best word he’s ever heard. “Together.”