"DONNA!"

The minute I see him striding towards me, hands clenched stiffly by his sides, eyes murderously daring anyone to get in his way, I know he's got a problem.

"DONNA MOSS!" he screams again and despite a sudden urge to whip out my cell phone and pretend I'm busy, I plaster a genial smile on my face and wait for him to catch up.

"Josh! What can I do for you?"

He glares at me. "Why does Will think they entire world will fall apart if Bingo Bob isn't there to save it?"

"Could you keep your voice down?"

"Come on, Donna: 'As only a Vice President can do'? That was Will's way of saying my boy can piss higher than yours."

"Oh my God," I grab his arm, drag him around the corner to a relatively empty corridor and shove him against the wall. "What exactly is your problem here?"

"I have no problem," he spits.

I try to keep cheerful. "Come on, Josh, I know you. You're having a big problem."

"It's nothing okay? And if it were something, well, come on, do you really think I'd admit it to the opposition."

"Josh." The smile slips from my face.

"Sorry, I don't mean that. God. Sorry."

"You don't have to be mean. I'm only asking if you're okay and if I can help."

"Why do you want to help? Is it so you can learn all our secrets?" He glares at me again but almost immediately his face droops gloomily. "Sorry, that wasn't fair."

I shake my head, "No, it wasn't fair but I understand. Will would have a heart attack if I told you our problems."

His eyebrows raise, "Oh?"

"Okay maybe you should forget I said anything."

"You guys have problems?" he asks, intrigued.

"It's not nice to gossip." I change the topic quickly, "You did good in the Southwest."

He stares at me for a beat then shoves a hand through his hair, "We could have done better."

"You're still in the race," I say encouragingly. "And Will didn't mean anything with his comment."

"Yeah he did," Josh frowns thoughtfully, "and you know he did."

"I'm not going to fight with you over this because this isn't the problem."

"You want to know what my problem is?"

I try to keep my voice level. "If you want to tell me. But first, you need to calm down."

"My life is a peaceful calm ocean," Josh splutters. "Oh except, of course, for the big rock that is the smugness of your campaign manager thrown right in the middle."

"Are you kidding me here?" It's my turn to glare at him, and I give it my best.

"What happened to the guy that made it rain?"

"Josh, this isn't about Will. You're having other issues."

"It never rains, it pours," he quotes, and I frown.

"What's with all the water metaphors?"

A brief smile flashes across his face before he shrugs, "I'm trying the water is Zen approach."

I wrinkle my nose in confusion. "Um, okay then. Does it work?"

"Water is Zen only makes me wanna use the bathroom way too much."

"Only in your world does water equal Zen equal excessive bathroom breaks." He shrugs almost boyishly and, disloyally, my heart starts to beat faster.

I refuse to let him charm me so I take a deep breath and smile brightly. "Are you going to tell me why you're talking your anger out on me?"

Josh blinks in surprise. "I'm not."

"You're yelling at me. Or rather, you were."

"I wanted to get your attention."

"By screaming my name in the Halls of Congress?" I ask incredulously.

He pauses, and his eyebrows knit together in contemplation. "I'm... sorry. You deserve better."

"Yeah. I do."

He stares at me again; carefully, searchingly. "Donna."

"Josh, is this about the vote? Don't lie; I know you too well." I lay a hand on his arm and plead softly, "Talk to me." I don't want to beg him but he looks so lost. "Please. I want to help."

He sighs in acquiescence and shrugs, "I just... there's less than a year left you know. This is important for him."

I'm confused, but only for a moment. "Oh. The President."

Josh nods slowly. "I feel, I don't know... like... I have to do this for him."

"You didn't abandon him, Josh," I say quietly and although his eyes flicker with hidden sadness his body is still stiff with tension. He looks so tired; I wonder when he last had a full nights sleep.

"I know that, Donna," he exhales loudly. "I just feel as though... well, like I'm all alone. Lone Ranger. I don't even have my Kemosabe anymore."

I raise my eyebrows in amusement. "Kemosabe?"

"I was trying to give you a nice little nickname there."

"And you were unsuccessful."

Josh smiles. "What would you prefer?"

"How about Donna," I say firmly.

"That's no fun."

"Take it or leave it."

He stares at me again, the smile vanishing from his face. "Donna... I miss... you."

"I know." I want to hug him; I want to comfort him but the best I can do is settle my hand on his shoulder.

He looks down at it and grins teasingly, "Are you trying to start something?"

"Josh," my hand drops from his shoulder and I sigh. "Why do you do this?"

"Do what?"

"Don't go backwards."

"I'm trying to go forwards," he argues.

"Not like this."

"How then?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Maybe you can start by calling me sometime."

"What would we talk about?"

"Nothing, anything. It doesn't matter. You and I are not enemies, Josh. When you run into me on the campaign trail, I won't ignore you if you offer to buy me a drink."

"There are things..." Josh says slowly. "Things I need to say; things I don't know how to say."

"Like?" I prompt.

"Donna, I..." he trails off and I can read it all over his face because I know it's reflected in mine. What he feels for me; what I feel for him. What we both feel for each other. "We need to talk about us."

I stare at the lines creasing his forehead; the worry haunting his dark eyes. Although I know exactly what he means, to make things perfectly clear I say firmly, "I'm not working for you again."

He shakes his head violently. "No! I mean us us."

"Us us?" I want him to say it. I need him to say it; he has to make the first move.

"You and I. Us. Two people who should be more than what they are but can't because they're too stupid and stubborn."

"Oh," I smile shyly. "That us."

Josh looks at me hopefully. "Sooooo."

"So."

"Okay this is a little more difficult than I thought," he grumbles.

"Why should it be difficult?"

"Because instead of talking I kind of want to push you against this wall and..."

I smile softly. "Oh."

"But I won't."

"Yes," I murmur, "of course you won't."

I can't stand this; every time we meet up the coldness between us is so painful and the gulf so wide that I'm afraid I'll lose him forever. We seem to always be on the edge, one step this way and it's eternity, one step the other way and it's farewell.

He looks at me sadly, the corners of his mouth dropping. "It's too public."

"I know," I agree miserably.

"Well I have to go," he mutters. "Stuff to do you know."

"Yeah. Me too."

"Well," Josh nods his head and nervously looks around. "Okay. I don't care."

"About wh-" Before I can finish speaking, his hand grabs the back of my neck, firm and forceful and he's pulling me flush against him. I can feel every muscle in his body; the warmth of his hands prickle my bare skin as he stares at me.

"Donna... I don't want to be all cavemanish here so I'm wondering if possibly..." he growls softly.

"If you want," I whisper.

"I want." He rests his forehead against mine and I can feel the rush of his breath on my face; it smells like coffee and mint and he's so close and yet so far.

"I miss you, Donna. I miss talking to you. I miss sharing a beer with you. I miss how well we used to work together."

I can't resist another jibe. "You miss how well I used to work for you."

"You know that's not true," he rebuffs. "I don't want to play this game anymore. I don't want to be the guy who makes jokes when he should be serious."

"Don't be then."

"I... don't know what to say."

"How about... I'll call you later," I offer hopefully.

"I want to say a lot more than that."

"Then say it!"

He sighs. "Toby's the poet; I'm the guy that can't...."

"What?"

"I'm the guy that doesn't know what to say when he's around you because he's afraid."

"Of?" I push.

He sighs again, the softness of his breath warming my skin. "Donna."

"Planning on waiting a full decade?" I whisper.

"I don't want to."

I can feel tears building behind my eyes; my chest is tight. "I don't want you to either." I will not cry in the Halls of Congress.

"What I want to do most of all right now, I can't," he chokes out.

"I know."

"I have to go. Things to do, Congressmen to get elected."

I pull away from him and his hands slip off my neck and fall limply by his sides. The emptiness bears down and I step back and clutch my bag tightly to stop the shakiness about to envelop me.

"Well then."

"Well," I agree. "I've got to tidy up some stuff in the VP's office. I uh... guess I'll see you around?"

"I'm going to Atlanta. Grease the wheels."

"Oh of course, yes." I take another step back and hook my bag over my shoulder.

Josh pauses momentarily before flashing me a quick smile. "Bye then."

"Bye," I whisper.

He raises his hand in farewell and I turn in the opposite direction; as he walks away I hear his shoes echoing on the marble floor. Quick rapid steps, fading away.

It'll change someday.

Right?

~~

Hours later in a dark room in the middle of the night, she secretly watches the Congressman speak from the heart. She admires him for being brave enough to say what he feels without thought or worry of consequence.

As she shuts the door behind her she wonders why she's unable to do the same with the man she loves. And why he's unable to do the same with her.

She tells herself it'll change someday. One day he will call her.

Maybe.