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It’s a Friday night, which means that Donna is getting home at the perfectly reasonable hour of six o’clock. Helen, for all the work she’d decided to do as First Lady, is adamant that Friday nights be for family. President Santos doesn’t get there as often as she does, but he manages more than he doesn’t, which means that Donna usually gets Josh on Friday nights as well.
Donna had stopped by on her way out of the office to check in, and Josh had promised to be home no later than seven-thirty. The President was on his way out at the same time that she was and Josh only had a few things to wrap up that couldn’t be taken home with him.
They’re doing well, all things considered. The administration survived the first one hundred days with only a few bumps and bruises, and now, almost nine months in, she thinks they’re settling into a comfortable rhythm.
Donna tosses her bag on the counter as soon as she gets through the door, kicking off her shoes as she does so before folding her blazer over the back of a chair.
The message light on the phone is blinking, so she presses the button to play them before wandering over to the fridge, trying to decide if she wants to cook or if tonight is a take-out night.
“It’s Abbey.” Donna turns to look at the phone, mildly surprised to hear the former First Lady on her answering machine. “I don’t know what the two of you have planned for Thanksgiving, if anything, I know how busy you are, but Jed and I are hosting dinner at the farm this year and we wanted to extend an invitation. I think CJ and Danny are going to come out and stay a few days, and Charlie and Zoey will be there. Give me a call back when you get the chance, we’d love to have you. Take care.”
Donna smiles, her heart warming at the message. She’s spoken to Abbey Bartlet plenty over the last year, but much of that was professional tutelage. Abbey’s been an incredible help in getting Helen’s agenda refined and has supported Donna through the shift in her career, but it’s odd to think that they’re friends.
Donna makes a mental note to bring it up to Josh when he gets home. They haven’t discussed Thanksgiving plans yet, but she’s not sure they’ll have enough time off to make it to Florida or Wisconsin this year. A night at the Bartlet Farm in New Hampshire could be doable, though.
The next message improves her good mood even more.
“Hello, you two. I hope you’re doing well, I miss you both dearly,” the voice of Rachel Lyman, Josh’s mom says. “I didn’t want to bother you at work, so I figured I’d leave a message at home. I was going through some of my old things and I found a bunch of pictures from the campaign in ‘98 when you guys did the rounds in Connecticut and I thought you might like to have them. I mailed them in an envelope a few days ago, they should be there by now. Call me when you can, I’d love to hear from you both. Oh, and Donna, I saw you on the news the other day. You were absolutely wonderful, I’m so proud of you. Love you both.”
Emotion wells in Donna’s chest at the message, an overwhelming fondness for Josh’s mother settling over her for a moment. She’s known Rachel for a long time now, but she’d been slightly worried that her relationship with Josh might change things. For the most part it’s done nothing but bring them closer. Donna smiles to herself as she grabs the mail key, rushing downstairs to check the box in the lobby.
Sure enough, there’s a large yellow envelope from Rachel waiting for her.
There’s about two dozen photos in the envelope, and Donna finds herself smiling softly at the nostalgia. The first few are from when they’d stopped at the Lyman house on the way to South Carolina, only her second day of working for Josh. Josh’s parents had offered them a home cooked meal before they returned to the fast food and rushed meals of the campaign trail and everyone had jumped at the chance.
The president, who at the time hadn’t even really remembered Josh’s name, had gone with them at the request of Leo, who had been excited for his oldest friend to meet his closest friend. There’s a picture of him laughing with Leo and Noah, Josh’s dad, that Rachel must have taken.
Another photo is of Josh, Rachel, and Sam. She’s situated between the two of them, shorter than them but grinning from ear to ear. Her boys , she’d called them before telling Donna and CJ every embarrassing story of them that she could manage to fit into the evening.
The next photo is of CJ and Sam making silly faces at each other, and Donna lets out a surprised laugh at the blurry image of Toby in the background, looking pained at the whole interaction.
Josh, sitting with Leo and Noah, deep in conversation about something and apparently unaware of the camera.
Donna and CJ next to a picture of thirteen year old Josh in a homemade Batman costume from the 60s.
The last one from that group is of the whole group sans Noah and Rachel, a campaign crew photo that Rachel had insisted on that the president had only minorly grumbled at.
The rest of the photos are from months later, after they’d won the nomination and the campaign had kicked into high gear.
Noah isn’t in any of these, having passed only a few months prior. The stress is more obvious in both Josh and Rachel’s eyes, but the pride they’d both felt is just as prominent.
There’s Rachel and Josh standing with the President, determined smiles on all three faces.
Donna laughing with CJ and Dr. Bartlet.
Donna grinning between Josh and Sam, both of them pressing a kiss to either one of her cheeks.
Josh gesturing wildly before a rally with Donna rolling eyes at him, the fondness on her face blatantly obvious now.
The whole group cheering off to the side, the President onstage post-speech.
The photos capture some of the best moments of their stop, moments that Donna hadn’t even remembered in the blur of the campaign.
Her favorites are the ones of her and Josh, however. There’s the two of them grinning at the camera, his arm tight around her shoulder. Then there’s one of both of them laughing at some joke Donna is sure was cheesy, and her heart squeezes at the way he’s looking at her, soft and fond and a little starstruck. They really were oblivious.
The best one, in her opinion, is from just after they’d gotten new polling. Josh had swept her up into his arms and spun her around, both of them laughing breathlessly at the notion that they might actually win. The photo itself is a little blurry since they’d been in motion, but perfectly in focus is her, her head thrown back in laughter with the brightest grin on her face, her arms around his shoulders. Josh is turned mostly away from the camera, but a hint of his matching grin can be seen, and it’s obvious that this was a moment of pure joy for the both of them.
Donna stares down at it for a minute, love and nostalgia and happiness settling around her like a blanket as she lets the memories play back through her mind.
Eventually, she shakes herself out of her reverie and sets aside that photo, as well as the one of Josh, Sam and his mom, the one of the president laughing with Leo and Noah, and the one of Leo, Josh, and Noah together. She’ll have to get those framed.
The rest, she decides, can go in her keepsake box so they don’t get lost in the shuffle of their lives. She’ll have to show them to Josh when he gets home, he’ll love them.
She gathers them back into the envelope and heads for the bedroom. She flicks on the lamp on the nightstand as she crosses over to the closet, sure that her keepsake box is on one of the shelves at the back.
She reaches blindly through Josh’s row of suits, trying not to wrinkle them in her search, when her elbow knocks against something in one of his jackets.
Curious, she pulls her arm out and thumbs through the jackets, searching for the mystery item. Her fingers knock against the object again, in the pocket of an old gray jacket she hasn’t seen him in since the Bartlet administration.
Her hand closes around what feels like a small velvet box. Carefully she pulls it out and nearly drops it.
It’s definitely a jewelry box, one small enough that either Josh has hidden a pair of earrings for her in an incredibly odd hiding spot, or–and she’s sure she’s going crazy–there's a ring in there.
Gingerly, as though terrified of what she’ll find, Donna opens the box. She drops the envelope of pictures in shock.
Inside sits a stunning diamond ring. It’s relatively simple, all things considered. A circle cut diamond on a silver band with smaller diamonds leading down the band from the larger stone, inlaid in intricate metalworking that makes them look almost like vines.
Donna staggers backwards, unable to stop staring at it. Her knees hit the bed and she collapses onto it, trying to remember how to breathe.
Josh isn’t–he hasn’t–is he going to propose?
They haven’t talked about marriage yet, although Donna’s been operating under the assumption that they’ll get married at some point. They’ve been living together basically as long as they’ve been together, thanks to an awkward but very earnest invitation from Josh on their trip to Hawai’i. It’s been almost a year, she supposes, and Josh has said before that he wants to be with her for the rest of their lives, but it’s almost always an offhand remark. They haven’t actually discussed marriage or kids or the future in any solid way, very happy living in the present.
Or so she thought.
He has a ring.
Donna feels tears start to well in her eyes, a million questions floating through her mind at once. How long has he had it? Why is it in a random suit jacket? Is it even for her?
“It was my Grandmother’s.”
Donna whips her head around so fast that her vision goes fuzzy.
Josh is standing in the doorway to their bedroom, his tie undone and the top few buttons on his shirt are unbuttoned. He’s got his hands in his pockets, looking almost casual as he leans against the door frame, but the look on his face is completely inscrutable. For the first time in a while, Donna has absolutely no clue what he’s thinking.
“Josh, I…” she trails off, wide eyed and completely frozen. She has no earthly idea where to even start with this conversation. She feels like she should apologize, but she can’t make the words form.
Josh just looks at her, a carefully blank expression firmly in place, which scares her even more than it would if he were nervous or angry. “The ring,” he continues, nodding at the box in her hands. “It was my grandmother’s. She snuck it out of Germany at the start of the war, before things got really bad.”
“Oh,” Donna whispers, glancing back down at the ring. It does look older, now that she thinks about it.
“My dad was just a kid, and she had family over here. She was lucky, she got out early. They had to leave in a hurry, so we don’t have much by way of family heirlooms, but she was never gonna give that up. She gave it to my mom when she got sick, just after Joanie died. She made her promise it would stay in the family.”
Donna nods absently, trying desperately to figure out what he’s thinking. He stares at her for another moment, the silence between them growing almost unbearable, before slowly stepping into the room. He shrugs off his tie and tosses it on the dresser as he comes to join her at the foot of the bed, sitting down with just enough space between them that they’re not touching.
“So,” Donna says finally, her voice shaking. “Your mom gave it to you.”
He nods, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he looks at the ring in her hands. “About six years ago,” he says slowly, his eyes flicking away.
Donna does the math in her head and takes a wild guess. “Before re-election? When you went down to see her for Thanksgiving and forgot she had moved?”
That, at least, draws out a small smile. “Yeah.”
“So, not for any particular reason?” she can’t help but ask. She couldn’t have been a factor in that decision, not unless Josh has been lying for a year about when he realized he had feelings for her, and even then, she can’t imagine he would have asked for the ring way back in 2001.
His cheeks flush a deep shade of pink and the line of his shoulders draws impossibly tighter. “No,” he says, tripping over the word slightly. “She, uh, she had a reason.”
Donna’s heart pounds as she stares at him. “She did?”
Josh’s foot taps anxiously against the floor as his eyes dart around the room, avoiding her face. “She said I might need it soon. I wasn’t seeing anyone then, this was before Amy,” he explains, his words careful. “I told her to keep it, that I would let her know if I needed it, but she insisted. She told me I would figure things out soon enough. She said she hoped I would stop being dumb about it.”
His jaw works as he stares determinedly at a spot on the far wall and Donna waits, her breath caught in her throat.
“She was talking about you,” he says finally, and the air rushes out of her lungs like she’s been punched.
“Me?” she whispers.
He nods jerkily, still not looking at her. “She always thought we had some sort of crush on one another, ever since she saw us together during the first campaign, but after Rosslyn–I don’t know. She was convinced we would end up together.”
Donna thinks back to that horrible time and the two weeks she spent with Josh’s mom, both of them scared out of their minds that something was going to go wrong with his recovery and leaning on each other through it. She can’t decide if she’s amused or horrified to know that Rachel Lyman had been able to read her so clearly all those years ago, had known so quickly that Donna was in love with her son.
She swallows the knot in her throat and looks back at the ring. “She gave you this… for me?” Josh nods again. “Six years ago,” she adds, her voice laced with disbelief.
“Yeah.”
Donna still has absolutely no idea what he’s feeling right now, and she's desperate to return to solid ground. “Why was it in a random jacket pocket?” she asks eventually.
Finally, Josh meets her gaze, and that alone is enough to help ground her. “So you wouldn’t find it and freak out,” he explains, the barest hint of amusement leaking into his tone. “Clearly, that worked well.”
Donna breathes out a soft laugh. “Right. So you weren’t planning to…?”
“Propose?” he finishes for her, reaching out and carefully tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I was working up the nerve.”
“Working up the nerve,” she echoes, and she can’t even begin to process that. She’s still stuck on his mom forcing the ring on him six years ago .
His mouth pulls into a lopsided smile, the one that usually comes with some sort of self-deprecating joke. “Trying to, anyway.”
“When?” she breathes out.
“When was I going to propose?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “When did you decide you wanted to?”
Josh shrugs and glances back down at the ring before finding her eyes again. “There wasn’t really one moment. I’ve known for a while that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, I was just trying to figure out, you know, when to ask. I wasn’t in any rush, I’m happy with how things are right now. I like us right now.”
“Yeah?” Donna asks, careful, even as she feels a surge of affection for him.
“I was going to bring up marriage eventually,” he hedges, "but I didn’t really have any plans.”
Donna looks down at the ring once more and nods slowly. “That’s… fair. I’m sorry I found it.”
Josh snorts softly and brings a hand up to brush against her cheek. “You don’t have to apologize. You’re not, like, freaking out?”
“A little,” she admits, cracking a smile. “But you’re not proposing, so it doesn’t really matter.”
“I can,” he says easily, and Donna nearly drops the ring once more.
“You can? ” she parrots back, her voice rising an octave.
He fixes her with an amused look. “I don’t really think I can just take back the ring and pretend you never saw it.”
“Well, it’s not like it’s my ring,” she starts, but Josh doesn’t let her finish.
“It is, though. Your ring, I mean.” His voice goes achingly soft as he looks at her. “It’s been yours for a long time, Donna. I was never going to give it to anyone else.”
Donna gapes at him breathlessly, her eyes darting between the ring in her hands and the soft, open look on his face. It’s strange, even after almost a year of being together, how he’s able to just say things like that without freaking himself out. “You haven’t actually given it to me, either,” she points out, at a complete loss as to how to respond to the rest of his statement.
His jaw ticks nervously and he swallows roughly as he glances away again. “I was going to do something romantic,” he explains, almost wistful. “Have Sam help me write a speech, maybe. There would have been flowers and wine and music.”
“Snowballs on my window,” she teases, and he almost grins.
“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” he muses, and Donna nearly laughs at the absurdity of this conversation.
“I’m not helping you plan the proposal.”
He flushes adorably. “Right.” He pauses and looks down at the ring before taking a deep breath. “Do you want to get married?”
Donna balks. “Are you proposing now? ”
“No,” he says carefully. “I’m just wondering.”
She eyes him curiously. “I do want to marry you, Josh,” she says softly, reaching out to cradle his cheek in her shaking hand. “You’re it for me.”
He closes his eyes briefly and leans into her touch. Some of the tension evaporates from both of them. “Do you like the ring?” he asks after a beat, and Donna hasn’t been able to predict a single part of this conversation, but that seems especially out of left field.
She holds the ring higher, truly looking at it for the first time since stumbling upon it. It’s a gorgeous ring. Not too flashy, it looks like it would be comfortable to wear, it’s unique without being gaudy, and in any other circumstance she could almost believe Josh had picked it specifically with her in mind. She’s kind of obsessed with it, to be honest.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispers. “Really, I love it, but you don’t–”
“It’s your size,” he says, cutting her off before she can protest further.
“How do you know my ring size?” she asks incredulously.
Josh smiles sheepishly. “You always wear that ruby ring from your mom on your ring finger on your right hand. I figured that was close enough.”
“You had it resized?” she breathes.
He shrugs. “I had to make sure it would fit,” he says, like this is incredibly obvious. Josh can pretend he didn’t have concrete plans all he wants, but Donna is believing him less and less. He got it resized. “You can put it on,” he adds softly, and she feels like she might faint.
“I really can’t,” she says, resisting the urge to shove the box into his hands.
He cocks his head to the side, confusion painting his features. “Why not?”
“Cause it’s an engagement ring, and you haven’t proposed,” she points out, almost hysterically.
Josh looks at her silently for a minute, and the look is one she knows well. It’s how he looks when he’s trying to figure out a problem, trying to figure out which decision is the right decision.
Suddenly, he swipes the ring from her, flashing a nervous smile as he does so..
“Close your eyes,” he says, vibrating with energy all of the sudden, and Donna’s sure that he’s actively trying to give her emotional whiplash.
“What?”
“Close your eyes,” he repeats, and so she does.
“Josh, what are you doing?” she asks when she feels him stand from the bed.
He doesn’t respond for a moment, and then he taps on her knee softly. “Open your eyes.”
She snaps her eyes open, and really almost does pass out, because Josh is on one knee in front of her, holding up the ring, still in its box. “Donnatella Moss, will you marry me?” he asks, his grin almost blinding.
“Josh,” she says slowly, trying to fight back the tears gathering in her eyes. “I don’t want you to do this just because I found the ring. Don’t ask me before you’re ready–”
He shakes his head, effectively shutting her up. “I wasn’t waiting because I’m not ready. I wasn’t in any rush, maybe, I don’t care if we get married tomorrow or never, as long as I get to be with you, but I’ve known I want to marry you for a long time. I want to marry you, and I really don’t want to hide the ring again while we both pretend it’s not there. If you want an official, romantic proposal, I can do that too, but I want you to have the ring. I’d like to marry you, if you want to marry me.”
It’s not the most eloquent proposal in the world, but it makes her cry anyway. She really, really loves him.
Slowly, she holds out her left hand. “Okay,” she says, as faux casual as she can manage when he’s looking at her with complete adoration while she cries, still in her clothes from work.
“Yeah?” he asks as hope floods his features.
She nods, and he doesn’t waste a second, pulling the ring out of the velvet cushion and sliding it carefully onto her finger.
He’d been right, it’s a perfect fit.
They both stare at her hand for a split second, and then Josh laughs, bright and happy, and tackles her back onto the mattress.
Donna can’t help her own laughter as he peppers kisses across every inch of her that he can reach, his arms coming to circle around her waist, holding her impossibly close.
“We’re engaged ,” she says breathlessly as he tucks his face into her neck, pressing light kisses to the skin there. It’s—unbelievable, incredible, phenomenal—there aren’t enough words to describe it. She’s going to marry him.
“Fiancé,” he murmurs against her neck, smiling widely into her skin. She’s not even sure he was even saying it to her, and she thinks that maybe this is just as surreal for him as it is for her.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she says, scratching her nails against his scalp.
Josh pulls back, propping himself up above her with a confused smile. “You asked me a question?”
“When did you decide you wanted to marry me?” she repeats. “You said that you’ve known for a while.”
His gaze softens and he tilts his head to the side, contemplating. “It wasn’t really a decision, more of a realization. I told you I realized I was in love with you just after re-election,” he starts, and Donna nods. She knows this story. “Well, I was looking for something on the day of the Inaugurals, and I found the ring. I hadn’t thought about it much, and I was having a lot of mixed feelings towards you that day, but I saw the ring and just thought ‘Oh, that’s Donna’s ring’ and then had a minor mental breakdown over it.”
Donna’s jaw drops weakly as she stares at him. “You’ve been carrying around a ring and thinking of it as mine for five years?”
He ducks his head to hide his flushed cheeks. “I wasn’t, like, carrying it around in my pocket. I just knew that if anyone was going to wear that ring, it would be you. It wasn’t—we had other things going on. I might not have realized I wanted to marry you as quickly as I did if my mom hadn’t already put the thought in my head, but once I figured out that I was in love with you, it was only a matter of time.”
“Josh,” she whispers, awestruck and so unbelievably in love with him. They’d made their peace with the missed chances and wrong choices a long time ago, but sometimes she couldn’t help but mourn for what might have been. They could have been doing this for years .
As if reading her thoughts, Josh shakes his head and leans down to press a lingering kiss against the corner of her mouth. “It doesn’t matter,” he murmurs. “We’re here now, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m so proud of what we have right now, in this moment.”
Donna can’t help the fresh tears that fall at his words, even as she tugs him down so she can press her lips against his once more.
“I love you,” she whispers between kisses, and Josh grins against her mouth.
“I love you, too.” He nips at her bottom lip before pulling back, his grin almost blinding. “You know what this means?”
Donna can’t help but grin back, even with the tears on her cheeks. “What?”
“We get to have engaged sex,” he says, looking ridiculously giddy with it.
She laughs brightly. “Is engaged sex somehow better than our regular sex?”
Josh’s gaze darkens ever so slightly. “Oh, I think you’ll find engaged sex to be much better.”
And really, Donna has no objections to that.
-
“Your mom sent some pictures she found from the first campaign,” Donna says in the afterglow. Josh is on his back, holding her close while she runs her left hand lazily across his chest, marveling at the way the ring catches the light.
“She did?”
Donna hums in confirmation. “They’re in the envelope on the floor. There’s four of them on the kitchen counter, I want to get them framed.”
“Why is the envelope on the floor?” he asks, craning his neck to try and spot it.
“I found an engagement ring and dropped it,” she replies, poking him in the ribs lightly. “The pictures weren’t really my top priority.”
He snorts and leans down to kiss her forehead. “Fair enough. Can I see them?”
“Sure, they’re really cute.” She pauses as a realization hits her and barely manages to smother her giggles. “Your mom is going to take credit for the engagement now. I only found the ring because I was looking for my keepsake box to put the pictures in.”
Josh rolls his eyes fondly. “Donna, she was going to take credit for the engagement no matter how it came about.”
Honestly, Donna figures Rachel’s earned that right anyway.
-
In the end, they have a very long engagement, first because they try to keep it quiet, then it’s because of the midterms, and through it all is the ongoing battle between the current and former Presidents of the United States over who gets to host the wedding.
Josh and Donna’s opinion on the subject doesn’t seem to matter much to either of them, which is endlessly entertaining, though it does make the idea of eloping seem more appealing, if only because it would drive everyone else in their lives to total insanity.
They don’t elope, however. Zoey Bartlet, in her infinite wisdom, finally comes up with a solution that should have been obvious to all of them from the start.
“Why don’t you just have two weddings?” she asks. “You’re going to have to invite a whole bunch of dignitaries and world leaders to the White House wedding, anyway. It’s probably going to feel like a political event, so you could hold a smaller wedding at the farm beforehand, call that your actual wedding, and then do the White House thing.”
“Now, hold on,” President Santos starts, and really there's something to be said about the leader of the free world taking an hour of his day to sit in one of the residence’s sitting rooms, hashing out wedding plans with the former first daughter.
They’ve got quite the crew gathered for this particular meeting. Josh and Donna are both present, though it’s mostly against their will, as are both the Bartlets plus Zoey, Helen Santos, and Ainsley Hayes, though they’re pretty sure she’s only there to report back to Sam, who is almost ridiculously invested in this wedding.
“No, that’s a good idea,” Donna says suddenly, and every eye in the room turns to stare at them. She realizes belatedly that they’d forgotten she and Josh were there.
“But everyone who would be at the farm wedding would also be at the White House wedding,” Abbey points out. “Isn’t that a bit redundant?”
Josh seems to mull it over. “There might be a handful of people we couldn’t invite to a White House wedding,” he says. “Lou would have a conniption over Toby’s presence, for one.”
“Toby’s coming,” Donna says a bit forcefully. “He’s been pardoned, and he’s our friend. We’re not getting married without him.”
Josh bites down on a grin. “I’m not saying we wouldn’t want him there.”
“Toby Ziegler can come,” Matt says, waving his hand absently. “The guest list for a White House wedding for the two Chiefs of Staff is going to be outrageous anyway.”
“Has anyone considered the optics of hosting a Jewish ceremony at the White House?” Ainsley asks suddenly, and everyone in the room turns to stare at her. She shrugs under their gaze. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it, I’m just saying, it might bring some loud anti-semites out of the woodwork. I don’t think you should have to deal with that when you’re supposed to be celebrating.”
Donna feels a familiar pang of stubbornness. “Our wedding is going to be high profile no matter how we try to go about it. If the people have a problem with the White House hosting a Jewish ceremony then they can fuck off.”
Josh wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side. “It’ll be fine,” he says, easy. “I don’t really give a damn if anyone has opinions on our wedding.”
President Santos nods. “They’ll get over it. Besides, I think people are probably going to be more focused on the guest list.”
“So, two weddings?” Abbey asks, pulling them back to the main issue. “The big one here, at the White House, and a more private ceremony and reception up at the farm?”
Donna looks up at Josh and finds him already smiling at her. “Yeah,” he says. “That sounds good to me.”
(It’s almost comical how into the wedding planning former President Bartlet gets. He and Zoey drive their hired planner absolutely batty, and that's just for the New Hampshire event.
It’s worth it in the end, Donna thinks. After all, very few people can say that the former President of the United States cried at their wedding.)