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She cannot believe her luck.
Of all the hotels and all the rooms in this particular hotel, why in the world did she get assigned to the one directly across from Josh? It’s been hard enough just knowing he’s now on his own campaign trail and not safe and sound (not to mention far away) in DC, let alone seeing him and running into him on the elevator. It hurts and feels so strange to be so close to him while also being the furthest they’ve ever been from each other. She hates it. She hates that they’re not talking and she hates that he made her leave the way she did and she hates that he’s right across the hall and she’s not with him, bugging him and eating Twizzlers while he prattles on about media buys like she should be.
Instead, she’s cold and tired and alone as she changes into her pajamas before opening her hotel door for her schedule that was dropped off earlier. She closes her door quickly, but looks out the peephole to see Josh himself as he stands in front of his door, her heart starting to beat faster the longer he stays there. She knows he’s contemplating knocking on her own door and something inside her brain snaps and before he can do anything, she’s opening hers, walking across the hallway and snagging him by his sleeve with a quiet “come here” before pulling him into her room.
He’s somewhat frozen as the door shuts and silence envelopes them. Donna walks over to turn on her bedside lamp and Josh slowly follows her, completely unsure of what to do, but he fights every instinct in his body telling him to flee and he bites his cheek when she turns to face him.
“Hi,” she says, smiling at him softly and he can’t help but mirror her.
“Hi.”
“How are you?” she asks, looking at him thoroughly. “Really?”
He scuffs his foot against the carpet and shrugs. “I’m fine.”
“Josh.”
“Donna, really. I– I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” she says pointedly and turns around to make some tea from the pot on the counter in the bathroom. Josh drops his coat and bag.
“Thanks?” he says, chuckling a little nervously, still unsure of what he’s doing here. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Look, I should probably—“
“Drink this,” she orders, handing him a steaming cup of tea. “I know you like earl grey better, but I finished those off yesterday.”
He takes it from her and she looks at him expectantly and apparently old habits die hard because he drinks the tea, grimacing only a little as the bitter taste hits his tongue.
“Your immune system will thank me later,” she murmurs and sits on the edge of her bed.
Josh frowns a little and still avoids looking at her directly, so he looks around her hotel room. Her suitcase is lying open by the closet and if he were to look inside the bathroom, he knows he’d find her green and silver travel bag sitting on the counter. He sees her watch and chapstick on the bedside table and there’s something red by her pillow. His breath gets stuck in his lungs when he realizes it’s a sweatshirt of his that she must have pilfered before she left. He looks away quickly and schools his features before finally looking at her. She, too, is avoiding his gaze; more interested in a hole in her comforter, and he sighs. What the hell happened to them?
“I should—“ he points behind him to the door. “You’re probably tired and need to sleep… so. I should go.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she whispers and he freezes.
“What did you just say?”
She looks up, her blue eyes peering at him sadly. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” she repeats, louder this time so he has no doubt. “And I know I probably shouldn’t tell you that, but seeing you right across the hall, I just— I can’t not tell you anymore.”
“Uh,” he says elegantly and he brings his hand up to run through his hair and over his face. “Look, I have a meeting in the morning, so I should—“
“Josh,” she pleads and he makes the mistake of looking at her again. “Please.”
“Please what?” he asks, getting worked up. “I can’t— I don’t know who you— You left! You left and now you’re telling me you can’t stop thinking about me? What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
“Josh, just—“
“No, you don’t get to tell me to calm down,” he interrupts, knowing the tone of voice she’s using. “You really wanna do this now?”
“I don’t want to fight,” she says and stands up so she’s eye level. “And I know you miss me, too. I saw you in the hallway. You wanted to knock.”
He refuses to acknowledge that. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
She reaches for him, but thinks better of it, and her hand falls back to her side. “Can you just hear me out? Please?”
He internally groans when she throws in the pout. He’s always been completely helpless when she gives him that look and even though he’s mad at her, he caves. “Fine. I only have five minutes.”
“I know you’re mad at me and I know you think I left you—"
“You did.”
“But that’s the whole point, Josh. We were too personal. I didn’t leave you.”
He scrunches his face in confusion. “How do you figure?”
“I mean,” she starts and hesitates for a second, but grows determined. “Would you have had the same reaction if one of your deputies quit? Or what about CJ? You threw a party for Sam when he left.”
“Sam left for a different job,” he argues. “It’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it?!” she cries, needing him to understand. “So did I!”
“Donna—"
“What did Leo say when you told him I was gone?”
His mouth creases in frustration and she has to bite her lip to stop her smile at the familiarity. “He asked if I pissed you off.”
“What else?”
Josh flops down in a chair. “He said ‘good for her’.”
“And what about CJ or Toby?”
“Why do they matter?”
She gives him a look that screams ‘why aren’t you catching on yet’ and he frowns. “It matters because everyone else was happy for me. They were sad to see me go, but they knew I wasn’t leaving them, that we would still be friends. Just like when Sam left to run his campaign, you knew he wasn’t leaving you. I left a job, Josh. I left a desk that was taking me nowhere. I wanted more and my boss wasn’t listening to me when I needed him to,” she says pointedly. “I told him and told him I wanted more, but he kept shoving me aside, so I quit.”
“Donna—"
“I almost died,” she says softly and his eyes fly up to hers. “It changed my perspective, it made me want more for myself. I wanted to keep working with you, but you wouldn’t let me. You didn’t want me to be great. You wanted me to help you be great.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not!” he shouts. “How can you even say that? After everything — after Gaza — how can you think so little of me?”
“What did you expect?” she asks incredulously. “You were keeping me chained to that damn desk to- to what? Run your files and type your damn memos and-"
“Keep you safe,” he finishes and she cuts off. “You just said it yourself, Donna. You almost died. And it would’ve been my fault. I couldn’t stomach the thought of you—" he runs his hand through his hair again. “I wanted you close. I’d already lost so many people, I couldn’t lose you, too.”
Silence falls over them at his words, the only noise is Josh’s heavy exhale, and he thinks maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut because she’s looking at him like he holds her heart in his hands and he can’t handle it. He can’t handle that look, but she says his name quietly and he hears the hitch in it, so when he looks up again to find tears pooling in her eyes, he doesn’t hesitate as he stands up and pulls her to him.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “You mean so much to me, Josh. I never wanted it to be like this.”
“I know,” he murmurs and holds her tighter. “I’m sorry, too.”
She sniffs and fists his shirt under his suit jacket as they embrace each other. He feels a little ball of tension start to fizzle out in his chest the longer he holds her. He hasn't felt like this in months, like he's home and he doesn't want her to pull away, but she takes a deep breath and leans back to look at him and his heart thumps a little harder when he sees one of his favorite smiles trying to peek out on her face. She squeezes his shoulders before pulling away completely to grab a kleenex from the bathroom. Josh catches sight of the red sweatshirt again and walks over to it.
“When did you steal this?” he asks, genuinely curious.
She looks at him a little shyly as she steps back into the room. “I didn’t steal it,” she clarifies. “You left it at my apartment.”
“When?”
“You brought me some work one morning when I was still doing half days. CNN got you fired up about something and you got too hot, so you threw it on my couch and left it.”
He smiles. “And you didn’t think I’d want it back?”
“Squatter’s rights,” she shrugs.
Josh laughs openly at that and he feels more of that tension dissolve. He lets the sweatshirt drop back onto the bed and shucks off his coat before sitting down next to her on the edge, their shoulders touching. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but something she said is still niggling in the back of his mind.
“What did you mean when you said we were too personal?” She gives him a look like she can’t believe he doesn’t know and it makes him grow defensive. “What?”
She chuckles and drops her face in her hands before sighing loudly. “Maybe it was only me, then,” she says, mostly to herself, but it makes him frown.
“What are you talking about?”
She brings one of her knees up and turns to face him. “I’m talking about this,” she says and gestures between them. “You and me.”
“What about you and me?”
“Josh, please don’t make me spell it out.”
“Spell what out?” he asks, truly unknowing of what she’s trying to say. “I don’t know what—“
“Do you have feelings for me?” she asks matter-of-factly and his brain short circuits. “Because CJ could tell that I had them for you and she called me out on it before Gaza.”
“Had?” he asks, his voice shooting up a couple octaves, but all he can focus on is the past tense. “You had feelings for me?”
She smiles and reaches forward to play with a loose button on his shirt sleeve. “Maybe.”
“Donna, don’t mess around right now,” he says, slightly breathless. “Spell it out for me.”
The air shifts around them and he fists the comforter beneath his hands to stop himself from touching her. They’ve been here before — many times. And it never ends the way he thinks it will. He has to be sure.
“You already know, Josh.”
“I don’t know anything,” he says honestly. “Because one second, I thought everything was fine, and the next, you're walking out the door, so clearly I...“
He trails off when she leans forward and draws his chin over so they’re face to face. Her eyes are kind and not at all condescending as she looks at him with calm patience. He’s kind of stopped breathing at this point, too scared to make a wrong move, and she rubs his skin softly. She looks up into his eyes and he knows she probably sees fear and deer-in-headlights, but she keeps moving closer and closer until she’s only a breath away from him and he can’t take it anymore so he leans the rest of the way in and kisses her.
He feels her smile against his lips and it spurs him on. He releases his death grip on the comforter and moves his fingers to tangle in her ponytail and pull her closer. He doesn’t feel her hand on his chest, too focused on the way her lips open for him and the feel of her tongue against his, and he barely registers the feeling of being pushed until she does it harder and oxygen finally re-enters his brain when they separate.
“I told you you already knew,” she whispers, a soft grin on her face as she braces herself on his bicep.
“I think I know less now than I did earlier.”
Donna laughs at him and leans forward to rest against him, still shaking slightly with mirth. “Come here,” she murmurs and brings her hand to his cheek to pull him in again. Josh follows happily and is pleased when she kicks her leg across his thighs so she can get closer.
“Does this mean you have feelings for me?” he asks quietly and she leans back again with a clever grin.
“Y-E-S.”
Josh bites his lip. “You’re a smart ass, you know that?”
“You said to spell it out.”
He hums and pulls her other leg across his lap. “Why couldn’t you have done that a few months ago? I feel like it would’ve saved some time.”
“I think we needed the space,” she says and he frowns.
“Why?”
She shrugs and lays her head on his shoulder. “If I had stayed, I would’ve started hating you,” she says quietly. “I was so angry after Gaza and you weren’t making it any easier on me. To no real fault of your own —“ she interjects when he starts to grow defensive again. “You weren’t the reason I was angry, Josh. I was mad at myself, it had nothing to do with you, but I had to leave the White House. Mainly to prove to myself that I was good enough to do it on my own, but I also wanted to show everyone, especially CJ, that my life and reason for being didn’t revolve around you.”
“Okay, what the hell did CJ say to you?” he asks. “Because it sounds to me that whatever it is she said was the catalyst to you being mad at me and I don’t like that.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Humor me.”
She sighs and moves her legs off him so she can stand up completely. “Don’t get mad at her, okay? She meant well.”
“Spit it out, Moss.”
“She said you sold me a bill of goods with the Gaza trip and she asked me why I chose to go back to the office instead of grabbing a drink with a guy who asked me out during the event we were at that night and…”
“And what?” he asks and she can see the set of his jaw as he tries to keep it together.
“And that I should do — and I quote — ‘anything that doesn’t have to do with Josh Lyman’.”
He blows out a long breath and stares at the floor for a moment. “So you were already cooking before you left for Gaza.”
“Yeah.”
“And Colin was—"
“Reactionary. Yes. Proof that I could have a one night stand.”
Josh lets out another breath before looking up at her. She looks nervous as she bites her lip and he reaches out for her. “Okay,” he says and pulls her to sit next to him again. “I really wish you would’ve said something.”
“What was I supposed to say? ‘CJ thinks I’m in love with you so I have to quit’?”
Well… yeah,” he says and she bites her lip to hide her smile when his voice goes high.
“And you would’ve responded well to that?” she asks. “Because I think if I said something like that to you, there would’ve been a Josh-sized hole in the door from your escape.”
“Give me a little credit, Donna. I’m not a total spaz.”
“You’re always a spaz.”
“I wouldn’t have been.”
“Why are you so sure?” she asks skeptically.
Now he’s the one to give her the ‘why aren’t you getting this yet?’ look. “Because the only reason I didn’t tell you I love you in that hospital room is because I thought you were spoken for.” Donna freezes and he reaches out to tug on the long sleeve of her shirt.
Donna stares down at a spot on the carpet as his words replay in her ears. “You loved me in Germany?”
One of his fingers slips inside the sleeve to scratch lightly at her wrist, but she keeps her gaze on the floor. He murmurs her name so she’ll turn to look at him. “I did,” he says, a grin ticking his mouth upward. “Kinda carried over to present day, too.”
“So you… love me. Currently.”
“Maybe,” he says, mimicking her shy nature from earlier.
“Josh, what are you telling me right now?”
He keeps running his pointer finger over her wrist. “It wasn’t just you,” he murmurs.
Donna sits there in silence as his words seep in. She always knew Josh cared about her and that they had crushes that developed into something real for her, but she had no idea that they’ve both been sitting on that limb together just waiting for the other to jump first.
“So what does this mean?” she asks, finally looking at him. “We’ve both just been idiotic and unhappy for no reason?”
“Technically, yes, but I think you’re right about us needing space. We were on top of each other for 7 years, I’m honestly surprised we lasted that long without killing each other.” He moves to hold her hand completely in his; the pads of his fingers moving over the dips of her knuckles. “I know the space made me appreciate you more,” he says. “I have something that I’m not willing to lose again.”
“But we’re on opposite campaigns that aren’t even to the Iowa caucus yet,” she whines. “Who knows when we’ll be in the same city again.”
“I can wait,” he says quietly and she flips her hand in his so she’s holding it. “If that’s what we have to do for now, I’ll wait.”
Donna brings her free hand on top of his, encasing it in her grasp, and she sighs. “But what if I don’t want to wait anymore?”
“Donna…”
“Why can’t we just be together now,” she says and looks up at him with bright eyes.
“Because we have some things to do first,” he says only a little sadly. “I have my guy and you have yours and we’re gonna be full steam ahead for the next 6 months and I don’t wanna half-ass this, Donna. Either the election or this.” He squeezes her hand. “You deserve my undivided attention and, for the time being, Matt Santos has it.”
“What happens when one of us wins?”
“If you win, then you get another term or two in the White House and I find a job elsewhere.”
“And if you win,” she parrots, “you get another term or two in the White House and I find a job elsewhere.”
“See, it’s not complicated.”
“Yes, it is,” she laughs. “Maybe not if I win — I can go home at a decent hour — but if you win… that’s Chief of Staff, Josh.”
“I haven’t talked about that with the Congressman yet,” he says, suddenly shy. ”I don’t know if I’ll even take a role in the administration if we pull this off. It’s all very preliminary.”
She smiles at his modesty. “That job is yours. You were born to do it.”
“I can’t even see that far down the road,” he says. “I can barely see tomorrow.”
She knows he has about a million things bouncing around his head right now and she shouldn’t add to the chaos. She should let him take the out for now and keep this thing between them on the back burner, but she can’t help it. Now that she knows what it feels like to kiss him, she can’t go back. She wants more.
“Can you see me tomorrow?”
He pulls a little on her hand so she’ll swing her legs over his lap again. “Is that an invitation?” he says, his voice gravely as he traces the pattern on her pajama pants.
“To breakfast, yes,” she replies, sliding her hand behind his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve only been eating pre-packaged donuts and bad coffee. You're due for some nutrition.”
“I’ve switched to Red Bull, actually. Coffee doesn’t do it for me anymore.”
“Josh,” she admonishes. “You’re literally drinking rat poison. You need to eat better.”
He grins. “Is that where breakfast with you comes in?”
“Yes and you’re eating a fruit cup instead of extra hash browns.”
Donna looks at him, their faces close as he continues to trace up and down her thigh. He looks tired and she chances a peek at the clock and internally groans when she sees it’s past 11, but she doesn’t move.
“Is this forceful fruit cup attack also considered a date?”
She shrugs. “You’re buying either way.”
He chuckles and rests his head in the crook of her neck, hugging her sideways. He feels a huge weight fall off his chest as she wraps her arms around him and suddenly everything seems so much easier. Why is he still trying to put this off?
“You know what… screw it.” He lifts his head. “Screw the campaign and the optics. You’re right. I don’t want to wait anymore either.”
“What happened to me deserving your undivided attention?”
“You’ll get it,” he promises and tucks some escaped hair back behind her ear. “Just in smaller increments for the next few months.”
“So, we’re together but only sometimes?”
“We’re together always,” he emphasizes. “I’m laying down that law right now. It’s just gonna have to consist of little bits and pieces here and there. It’ll be clandestine and spontaneous.”
“Does that make me a real politician then?” she asks. “A covert affair with my ex-boss slash nemesis campaign manager?”
“That’s kinda hot,” he murmurs and leans in slowly, still unsure if he’s really allowed to do this, but she smiles and closes the distance. He deepens the kiss and squeezes her thigh when she rolls toward him, her hip brushing his groin, and moans. “God, so is that.”
Donna chuckles and moves to kiss him again, but he swiftly swings her legs off of him and stands her up so he can stand too. “What are you doing?” she asks when he reaches for his coat on the floor. He grabs her hand and pulls her to the door.
“I’m going to my room,” he says and she tugs on his arm.
“What do you mean? Stay here.”
He grins. “Not tonight.”
Donna laces their fingers together and gives him a solid pout. “Why not?”
He groans and falls sideways a little to rest against the wall. “Don't do that to me, Donna. I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
“Please?”
“I want the first date breakfast to come before the first sexy sleepover, alright?”
She rolls her lips together in amusement. “That is so… virtuous.”
“Call me old-fashioned, doll face. We’re having a date first.”
Donna steps closer to him. “Are you sure? Because then the sexy sleepover would be the second date. And we both know how second dates tend to go for you.”
“That is completely untrue.”
“The wheels will fall off and, thus, affect your performance.”
Josh looks at her with a smirk on his face. “Your manipulation skills need a little work.”
“Worth a shot,” she says, throwing another pout his way, but he covers her mouth with his hand.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he murmurs and moves another lock of hair behind her ear. “Goodnight.”
She grins up at him and leans back onto the door, pulling him with her. “Goodnight,” she whispers and tugs him close, their foreheads bumping.
Josh brings one of his arms up to brace against the door above her head, the other moving around her back. He leans in, a smirk still on his face, and he stops right before they meet. “Do the pout one more time.”
She falls right back into it; widening her eyes and puckering her bottom lip almost comically, and something flashes in Josh’s face. His grin grows and he pushes her fully up against the door as he locks his lips with hers. She sighs and melts into him, completely surrendering under his touch.
“Josh,” she whispers and moves to unbutton his shirt. “Stay.”
“Donna, come on,” he whines. “You’re killing me.”
“Just stay,” she says again, pulling him back to her by his shirt. “What’s the difference between here and 50 feet from here?”
He kisses her again, his hands stopping hers from wandering too far. “I wanna do this right,” he whispers. “Let me buy you some crappy waffles first.”
Donna stares at him for a moment, still restless and itching for him, but she knows he’s being serious by the look on his face.
“Fine,” she relents. “But I want pancakes.”
Josh smiles and grabs the door handle, looking at her before turning it. “Goodnight,” he murmurs again and he leans in to kiss the apple of her cheek. “I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
“You mean walk the 7 steps to my door?”
“Whatever. Just let me come to you.”
She grins at him as he steps into the hallway. “Okay.”
He looks around once before stealing one more kiss and moving to his own doorway. She watches, amused, when it only takes him 4 tries to get the door open this time. He turns around and they stare at each other from across the hall and she can’t believe how much lighter she feels. The last hour has changed everything; it’s re-energized her and got some adrenaline pumping through her veins, and a swooping fluttery feeling twists it’s way through her belly when she looks over at Josh. She’s determined to make this work.
“Are you gonna go to bed or just keep staring over here all night,” she teases and he looks down bashfully.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
She nods. “You’ll see me tomorrow.”
“Okay,” he breathes, almost like he’s reassuring himself. “Goodnight, Donna.”
“Goodnight, Josh,” she whispers and they both shut their respective doors.
Donna stands with her forehead pressed to the door for a moment, a stupid grin on her face, and she looks back out the peephole. Her smile grows when she sees Josh open his door again and start towards her room, but thinks better of it and turns around. She snorts when he turns again and walks all the way over this time, his hand resting on the door frame, and he drums his fingers once. She watches as he closes his eyes and laughs to himself before spinning on his heel and hightailing it all the way back into his room. She waits another moment and when he doesn’t emerge, she latches the deadbolt and makes her way back to her bed, smiling like a lovesick teenager as she throws on the red sweatshirt he’d dropped on her pillow.
Her eyes close instantly, the exhaustion still overpowering her air of giddiness, and she replays the last hour in her head as she slowly falls asleep.
Maybe they can get opposing rooms at the next hotel, too. It’s not so bad, after all.