Surprisingly, both you and Donna are at the Capitol at the same time. Even more surprisingly, you both finish your meetings at the same time and, after a quick argument over the phone about what to get for lunch, you meet up with her at the South East tourist exit because, desperate for a pretzel covered in mustard, she convinces you that the best ones are available from Mohammad by Raeburn.

You decide not to bring up the fact that since she became pregnant her tastebuds have failed to distinguish between good and bad, but today she's in a strangely happy mood - very rare for the past month - so you order a pretzel slathered in mustard for her, a plain one with salt for you, and two bottles of water.

After the requisite Donna small talk which involves a ten minute discussion between her and Mohammad about his kid's school project, his two dogs, the leaking bathroom faucet, and the bunion surgery on his wife Muffy's big toe, Donna takes pity on your whining and tugging at her sleeve, and allows you to drag her down the hill towards the car waiting to ferry you back to the White House.

Halfway across the lawn, though, Donna stops beside a large shady tree. "Here!"

"Here what?"

She slithers awkwardly down onto the grass, leans back against the trunk of the tree, and crosses her legs at the ankles. "I want to eat here."

"You're kidding me, right?"

She squints up at you in the sunlight and then adjusts her sunglasses. "What's wrong with here? It's a beautiful Spring day. The squirrels are playing, the birds are singing-"

"The bees are buzzing?"

"Right! Come on, Josh, sit down and have a picnic with me."

"Apart from the fact that we're dead smack in the middle of the Capitol lawn, completely unprotected from-"

"Anyone who might be poised behind a tree, on the off chance that an impromptu picnic will allow him to take out a high ranking member of the White House. Sit down and stop arguing with me."

"It's not just that, Donna. I don't want you sitting out here when it's a hundred degrees and you're almost ready to blow."

"I wish you'd stop saying that," she huffs. "It's only May and it's only in the eighties. You and hyperbole, Josh..." she shakes her head and takes a huge bite out of her pretzel and then continues, "Sit down, Josh. I'm sure the guys," she gestures to the three Secret Service agents hovering protectively in flanking positions, "won't mind twenty minutes outside in the sun protecting us."

You're fairly certain that Pete, Alan and Jim can deal with anything, including your silly wife's outrageous ideas, and you'd normally argue with her a little more - partly because it's fun to watch her get annoyed and partly because you hate to give up without at least feeling like you've made a fair effort to win - but the last time you didn't let her get her own way, she spent half an hour crying in the bathroom and then made you sleep on the sofa.

So, with a sigh, you plop down next to her and shrug apologetically at the men who shrug back and continue scoping out the area.

"That wasn't so difficult, was it?" Donna grins. "You've been working too hard lately; a little fresh air will do all three of us good."

"Give me my pretzel," you mutter, pulling the bag from her hand. "I'm only agreeing to this because of your condition, you know."

"I know." She grins again and kicks off her flat sandals to wiggle her toes in the grass, then runs a bare foot over your trouser cuff. "Take your shoes off."

You swallow a mouthful of the surprisingly delicious pretzel and shake your head. "No."

"I'd do it for you only..." she gestures to her big belly, "there's someone in the way."

"Fine... how long are we going to be sitting here?" you ask as you untie your shoes and peel off your socks. The whiteness of your feet in the bright daylight nearly blinds you, even though you're wearing sunglasses.

"Well, I'm going to sit here and read a memo," she says, hauling what has to be a ten pound fully bound book from her shoulder bag. "And don't roll your eyes at me like that, Josh! I'm going to have to read it when I get back, why can't I sit here in the sun instead?"

"I have a meeting soon," you argue, fully knowing that the whine in your voice might snap her out of her good mood. "I can't spend all afternoon lolling about in the grass." Donna sighs and rests the book on the top of her bump, and you add, "Don't do that."

"You think the baby's going to get a concussion?"

"It might." You take the book from her belly and put it on the grass, and then lean down to kiss her bump. "I'm sorry that Mommy is such a crazy lady making us sit out here."

Donna laughs and then says, softly, "You know, it won't be long before we're never alone, and it's such a beautiful day... stay with me awhile, Josh."

You lean back on your palms, look at her hopeful face and immediately give in. "Okay."

"Sam can take your meeting. It's just Snyder after all. Sam can deal with him with his eyes closed and one hand tied behind his back."

"I really wish you wouldn't memorize my schedule."

Donna shrugs. "It's habit. And I only do it in case Margaret isn't around and you don't know what's next. I'm being helpful!"

You pull out your Blackberry and dial Sam's direct line. "I'm going to tell Margaret to stop giving you access to my diary."

"No, you won't." She unscrews the cap of her water bottle and takes a drink. "And even if you did, she wouldn't listen. Margaret's on my side."

"Why isn't anyone with Team Josh?" you wonder aloud and then hold up a finger to silence her answer as Sam picks up. You explain briefly that you've decided to have a picnic with your wife on the front lawn of the Capitol building and, after a few seconds of stunned silence, no doubt because you're passing off work to have picnic in the middle of a work day, he agrees to meet with Congressman Snyder.

"Thank you," Donna says quietly. "And Team Josh? That's who I play for."

"I think you're the captain of Team Josh," you reply. "And the manager, the cheering squad-"

With a shrug, she rests a hand on her huge bump. "What can I say? I love Team Josh. I want to help it win and I think this one will want to be part of Team Josh's success too."

She grins at you, bright and cheerful, stretched out on the green grass in a yellow sundress with her bare toes wiggling against yours. She's young and beautiful and sexy and she's yours and you can't help saying, "God, I love you so much."

"So you should." Her grin widens and you grin back, and lean over to kiss her softly on the lips. She kisses you back, reaching forward to wrap her arms around your neck, pressing herself to you as best she can with twenty pounds of baby in the way.

When you finish kissing her, a good couple minutes later, you add, "We should get t shirts made."

"Team Josh shirts?"

You lie back on the grass and she snuggles against you. "Mmm, or Team Lyman. Team... I don't know. Something cool."

"If I get you a t shirt that says Team Josh, I dare you to wear it to work."

You kiss her earlobe. "Never going to happen."

"Spoilsport," she mutters, then wriggles a little bit, trying to get comfortable. "God, I wish I could lie down without feeling like I'm being flattened like a pancake. She rolls onto her side to face you and sighs heavily. "I'd kind of like this baby to get out of here soon."

"I know."

"I can't get comfortable," she complains. "Sit up so I can lean against you." You oblige, scooting over to sit with your back against the tree trunk, and she rests her head on your thigh, curling her legs up behind her.

"Better?"

"Yeah." She takes a deep breath and sighs again. "I love this place this time of the year."

"Even with all the tourists?" You squint through your glasses at the long lines of people waiting to get into the Capitol building, cameras at the ready. "And all the insects, all the humidity-"

"I love it," she says firmly and then explains, "I used to come up here and eat lunch on the days you'd let me out of my cubicle. I'd sit under this tree and eat my sandwich and watch the people from all over the country - the world even - and I'd talk to them and-"

"Of course you talked to them." You stroke her bare arm lightly. "How many of them do you keep in contact with?"

Donna smiles sadly. "You know, it used to be a lot. A hundred? Maybe more; I never kept track. But- oh!" She breaks off and her smile changes, and she moves her hand to her bump. "Baby's kicking again."

You link your hand with hers to feel your baby's tiny little kicks. "Guess it wants to hear the rest of your story."

"Years ago there was one family, on vacation from Pacific, Wisconsin. George and Anna Kendall, and their daughter Fiona. I talked to them for two hours about Bartlet's education plan."

"I never gave you a two hour lunch break!" you exclaim.

Donna waves her hand idly and then scrunches up the empty pretzel papers and tucks them into her bag. "You were in California. I took a long lunch."

"How often did you take long lunches when I wasn't around?" you ask suspiciously. "I should get Payroll to dock your salary."

"You don't have that kind of power," she pffts. "And I only took them when there wasn't anything else for me to do because, you know, I'm so efficient at everything."

"Still-"

"Do you want to hear the rest of my story?" she interrupts.

"Please," you invite, "by all means tell me about the Kendalls from Pacific, Wisconsin."

She stares past you, through the branches of the trees, and sighs. "That was really all there was to it. But there were hundreds of other people I talked to over the years. Sometimes it was about politics, sometimes it wasn't. I once discussed television chefs with a woman from North Carolina, and why reading romance novels and drinking wine in the bath isn't a good way to spend a Friday night when you're a single girl."

You understand the point she's trying to make. "You miss your random conversations with total strangers."

"Sometimes." She takes a deep breath and looks back at you. "I realized last week that I was so busy I didn't talk to people I didn't know anymore unless it was part of my daily work. Josh, I'm busy being Chief of Staff, busy making sure you eat right, sleep enough, don't burn out-"

"You don't have to take care of me."

"I want to," she says firmly. "And I'm busy making sure the house is finished in time for July... I'm busy just being pregnant each day. Growing a baby isn't easy!"

"I think you're doing a fantastic job of it."

Donna smiles. "Thanks. But I used to talk to so many people, Josh. All the time. I knew people from all over the country, and some people from other countries as well. All tourists, all here to see the seat of American government."

"I sense this story doesn't have a happy ending."

"No... no, it's not that." Donna sighs. "I haven't been here in a couple years. Haven't sat under this tree and people watched and thought about how lucky I was to be where I was, doing what I was. Talking to anyone who smiled back at me and making friends that I used to talk with all the time and now... not so much."

"You've been busy."

"No, it wasn't that. I mean, yeah, after Zoey's thing I stopped coming for awhile and then I was here once, just after I was finally free of the crutches, and I talked to people for a few hours. Some of them knew me by sight, you know, from being in the news and it really helped me, Josh, with the stuff I was going through..."

You know what stuff she's talking about and you gently brush her hair with your hand. "I'm sorry."

Donna smiles. "Hey, it wasn't all your fault, and it's behind us now."

You nod because she's right about that. "This story doesn't have a happy ending does it?"

She thinks about it for a moment and then, "It was more of an abrupt realization," she finally says.

"About?" you prompt.

"I was here for three hours that afternoon and it was fantastic and then I met the Biershteins from Weekhawken. Marv and Greta Biershtein and their son Shlomo. Shlomo was disappointed there wasn't a McDonalds in the Mall."

You don't really understand. "Which mall?"

"That one!" Donna points down to the Mall, the tall white Washington Monument marking the halfway point. "I wanted to laugh at them but I knew they were serious. They actually thought it was going to be a mall with air-conditioning and shops."

You laugh. "I'm sure they were joking."

She shakes her head. "No, they were serious. Then we had an argument because they thought the Capitol building was the White House. Apparently it was white and it was the building they always saw on TV, so..." she trails off and sighs. "It would have driven you crazy talking to them. I can picture your face going bright red, steam practically coming out of your ears."

"Good thing I wasn't part of the conversation." The baby kicks in agreement and you rub the elbow or knee or whatever limb it is.

"I gave them a short history of the District and basic Politics 101 but I'm not sure they believed me. It made me realize that you could educate a person to death, but they would still form their own opinions and ideas, and if there was something they thought they were certain about, you could never sway them. Especially if TV gave them that information."

"But you always knew that."

"I wasn't in a good place in my life, Josh. In anything. I was disillusioned with everything, I had things I needed to figure out and no time to do it and I just... stopped coming here for lunch. And I think that was when I stopped talking to people in general, really getting to know the average, every day man, woman, child on the street."

She takes a deep breath and continues, "There were people out there who just didn't want to know. All they wanted was their safe little world they were familiar with, and damn if they were going to let anyone take that away from them. I didn't know how to make a difference anymore so I just focused on work, and the Vice President and... well, that's the story."

"You can't save everyone, Donna." You stroke her forehead gently. "All we can do is give people the best foundation we can, and let them run with it. People live their lives the best way they know how so all we have to do is get them started and hopefully they'll make the best of it."

She smiles and squeezes your hand that's still playing with her baby bump. "Kiss me." You oblige and lean down to kiss her and when it's over she says, "Sorry the picnic turned into a bummer."

"Best picnic I've ever been on."

She smiles again. "Tell me, how'd you get to be so wise about stuff?"

"Ah," you hold up a finger and wink at her. "It's no secret that Team Josh has excellent support from its members."

"Team Something Cool, you mean," she reminds you.

"How about Team Donna?" you offer. "I'm pretty sure Team Donna rocks life. Or we could combine our names? Team Dosh... uh... Jonna?"

"Don't ever say our names like that again," she says quickly with an annoyed frown. "I've never heard anything so ridiculous."

"Team Cool works though," you offer smugly. "I like to think that I'm a pretty cool guy."

"You're a crazy guy, Josh."

"You're a crazy woman, Donna," you throw back at her and she smiles.

"I never told you about my sixth grade field trip, did I?" she asks and, when you shake your head, continues, "It was the standard three day thing - we went into the Capitol and whispered dirty things to each other in the Whispering Gallery, took a White House tour, saw a couple of things in the museums... and then we did the Monuments."

"I did one of those trips. Wasn't so bad getting here from Connecticut, but from Wisconsin?"

"We raised money for airfare, hotels, you know the sort of stuff. Bake sales, door to door candy selling... anyway, point is: we visited the Monuments on the final day and Penny-Sue Scottson..." she trails off again, "God, I hated Penny-Sue Scottson. Queen Bee. Little Miss Perfect Teeth. I had braces for two years and Penny-Sue Scottson-"

"Penny-Sue Scottson is probably thirty pounds overweight and living in a trailer park with five kids."

Donna shakes her head. "Penny-Sue Scottson is now Penelope Scott and she's- no, you know what?" She doesn't wait for you to respond, but continues, "That's behind me now. Anyway, I somehow managed to convince Penny-Sue Scottson the addition on the Washington Monument was actually representative of Martha's appreciation for George's... you know."

You feign ignorance. "What?"

"You knooooow." She grins up at you. "I'm not going to mention by name one of the greatest Presidents... you know."

"Seriously," you start laughing, "Donna, tell me she didn't believe you!"

"For about five minutes, maybe." Donna rolls her eyes and scoffs."Then Julie Marks told her I was lying, and so then I said it was the high water mark."

"You know it's not, right?"

"I knew that, but Penny-Sue Scottson actually believed me second time around. I wonder if she still does." Donna thinks for a few seconds. "I should call her and find out. Little Miss Perf-"

"Yeah, I married a crazy lady," you sigh heavily, rolling your eyes. She pinches your thigh in retaliation. "Okay, sorry!" you apologize and then look down at the Monument and ponder. "Although if it was George's, uh... member, what scale do you think it was set at?"

"Forget the scale of the thing," she grimaces, "I'd be more worried about the sharp, pointed end of it."

As you laugh again she gestures towards a man and woman walking up the slope with two young boys in tow. "See them?"

"Yeah."

"I want to know who they are. Why they're here."

You squeeze her hand."Why don't we ask them?"

"Maybe." Donna stares at them a little more and then nods decisively. "Thanks."

"For?"

"Being you." She smiles at you and you help her sit up, brushing a few leaves from the back of her hair.

You smile back. "Anytime."