She pauses in the doorway and watches him for a moment. Well, who can blame her? Him standing on that chair with his back to her. . . . It's a really spectacular view. He DOES have the cutest butt in politics.

She can almost count down to the moment the inevitable happens, and the binders go flying to the floor.

"We keep them on computer, you know." She's trying to keep this light, keep some semblance of playful banter as she helps him clean up his mess. But her tone is off a little, and of course he picks up on it.

"What the hell is happening now?"

She takes a breath and launches into the speech she'd practiced earlier. For whatever reason, she'd decided that today was the day to tell him. She just hopes she can get through it.

"You feel, I believe, because you're quite addle-minded, that this job was my second choice."

"Hey, I'm just grateful we were your last choice."

"I'm gonna give you a little gift right now, which you don't deserve."

Even though she says that, she doesn't really believe that he doesn't deserve it. He does. He's given her everything, taking her back after her little trip back to crazy land. Maybe someday he'll know the full extent of what it meant to her when he let her back into his world, but this should do for now. A way to let him know how important it was.

"Donna, if you've got your old Catholic-school uniform on under there, don't get me wrong, I applaud the thought, but..."

Ugh. When he says stuff like this it's so hard for her to remind herself that's he's just joking. He doesn't really want to have sex with her. And the flowers . . . those are even harder. Part jest, part friendship. It gets so confusing! And the way he's looking at her right now. He's really cute, even though sometimes he pushes the boundary just enough to annoy her. Especially right now, when she's trying to tell him something important.

"Okay, what I need is for you to stop being like, you, for a second."

"Okay." He immediately straightens up. For all his goofiness, he does recognize when playtime is over.

"When I came back, you remember I had a bandage on my ankle?"

His eyes go dark. "Yeah."

"I told you I slipped on the ice on the front walk?"

"Yeah. You know why? 'Cause you didn't put down the kitty litter."

"I was actually in a car accident."

"You were in a car accident?" He sounds incredulous.

"It was... "

"Seriously, you were in an accident?"

He still sounds like he doesn't quite believe her. And with good reason. After all, she lied to him about this before. And actually, she's lying to him about it right now.

"It was no big deal."

That's part of the lie. It really was a big deal, but one of the ways she copes is by telling herself that it wasn't.

"You told me it was a late thaw."

His tone is accusatory, but not angry, even though he just realized that she lied to him before.

Donna smiles weirdly and hurries on with her story, hoping he won't get around to asking why she'd lied about it. She hasn't thought of a good answer to that possible question. Maybe this wasn't the best way to make the point she wanted to make.

"Yes. I did. Anyway, they took me to the hospital and I called him and he came to get me,"

She keeps her eyes shut for most of this part, unable to look him in the eye while she's lying. But as she gets to closer to the truth, she summons her strength and makes eye contact.

"and on the way he stopped and met some friends of his for a beer."

"He stopped on the way to the hospital for a beer?"

"Yes. And that's why I left him. Which was the point of my telling you this. I left him."

This is what she needs Josh to know. She left Paul. She didn't come crawling back because she got dumped. She left. It had been the single most important thing she'd ever done. She'd left.

"So stop remembering that. What I remember is that you took me back when you had absolutely no reason to trust me again, and you didn't make fun of me or him, and you had every reason to."

Leaving the campaign to go back Wisconsin had been a mistake, but at least she'd finally been able to break free from Paul for good, and a big part of the reason why was because Josh had believed in her. She had started to feel valuable. She'd started to believe she could contribute more to the world than just supporting Paul. She had a reason to move on.

And it's amazing to get flowers to commemorate the day, but she's tired of them being a joke to Josh. Because they're not a joke to her.

"Donna... "

He's got that little smirk that makes her weak in the knees. And his tone of voice could go either way. But she really needs for him to not ask anymore questions right now. So she goes for a distraction.

"You're gonna make fun of him now, aren't you?"

"No."

"'Cause that's why I didn't tell you in the first place."

Actually that's another lie. She's just racking them up today. The reason she didn't tell him what really happened is because he would have done something drastic, and that's not something that the campaign or this administration, for that matter, needs.

"I'm not gonna make fun of him."

"Good."

"But just what kind of a dumbkiss..."

Donna cuts him off before this can go too far, just a little more of a white lie.

"He was supposed to meet some of his friends. He stopped on the way to tell them that he couldn't."

"And had a beer?"

The truth of the whole thing has a lot to do with the amount of beer Paul had before the incident, but Donna really doesn't want Josh asking any more questions. And she knows exactly how to accomplish her goal. Appeal to his ego.

"Does this make you feel superior?"

Josh looks away and starts to say something, but doesn't, because the wheels are starting to turn. But Donna continues-

"Yes, you are better than my old boyfriend."

That does stop the wheels for a moment. Josh stands up and walks toward the door, but then stops in the doorway. He needs to say something.

"I'm just sayin' if you were in an accident, I wouldn't stop for a beer."

Donna stands up, "If you were in an accident, I wouldn't stop for red lights. Thanks for taking me back."

She walks out of his office, glad this conversation is over, and that she made her point.

"Oh, and the flowers are beautiful."

Josh stands in the doorway staring after her. He's partly stunned and partly confused. The wheels are turning again. Bits of their conversation running through his mind.

She wouldn't stop for red lights. She wouldn't stop for red lights. She likes the flowers. He wasn't her second choice. She didn't come back because Dr. Freeride dumped her twice.

Wait. That's part of what's always confused him. Why would Dr. Freeride have dumped her to begin with? And why did Donna lie about the car accident when she first came back? What purpose was there for telling him she slipped and fell?

She slipped and fell . . . an accident . . . slipped and fell . . . an accident. Those are excuses people use when they don't want anyone to know . . . oh god . . . when they don't want anyone to know . . .

He watches her head back to the Roosevelt room as his chest starts to tighten, and the blood pounds away in his ears. He feels a bit dizzy so he turns back into his office, taking two steps and plopping down into a visitors chair.

He puts his head between his knees and just breathes for a minute or two.

When he's sure he's not going to pass out, he sits back up and starts to think, running through all the information he has. Trying to approach this problem logically, instead of letting his emotion carry him away. Trying NOT to think about the fact that it's Donna, and trying NOT to think about the fact that he's almost sure he already knows what the answer is.

She'd always been a bit skittish. After conning her way into the job, it turned out that she was never quite as confident as she'd acted. As far as the job went, that worked out fine, with her double and triple checking everything. Making sure that he was always where he needed to be, always prepared, always one step ahead.

But on the few occasions that she made a mistake, she had looked down-right scared.

He remembers a time he missed a meeting with an important contributor because she'd written the meeting on the wrong day. He'd called her into his office and showed her the calendar, intent on teasing her a bit.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" He'd taunted, as she looked at the calendar in her lap, wringing her hands. She'd continued hanging her head, unable to look him in the eye. Finally, he thought he saw her shoulders shrug infinitesimally.

He'd been about to tease her some more when he saw a big tear drop into her lap.

His heart had dropped. "Donna?" He beseeched. He had just been teasing. He hadn't meant to make her cry over a simple calendaring error.

Finally, she looked up at him, tears running down her face and gave him the most heart-breaking apology he'd ever heard.

He'd hardly known what to do, other than to tell her he was kidding, and offer to buy her some chocolate. They'd laughed about it later.

Another time, he'd gently rebuked her over something, then he'd placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to reinforce that he wasn't mad. He'd been shocked when she'd flinched at his touch.

He'd tried to laugh it off, apologized for startling her, telling her to relax, everyone makes mistakes, her job wasn't on the line.

It was shortly after that she'd left. He'd found a note taped onto his laptop.

Dear Josh-

I'm sorry for all the mistakes that I've made. Thank you for the opportunity of a lifetime but I think it's time I go back to where I belong. The Governor has my vote. I'm sure you'll do amazing things in the White House.

Best,

Donna Moss

It had been like a stab to the chest. He really thought they had a connection. They were a team. She belonged with him.

Then CJ and Toby had harassed him for being a tyrant. Working her too hard. Bellowing her name too often. Expecting too much.

But a few weeks later she was back.

When he'd seen her the first time, all he'd had time to say was "Thank God, there's a pile of stuff on the desk."

He'd planned to apologize for whatever he'd done, to try to fix it. He'd also decided that she was going to get paid, even if he had to pay out of his own pocket.

But when he'd come back into his office, she'd already organized everything. And she was already working on the next day's tasks. One step ahead.

"So . . . you're back. . . . For good?"

"Yes. This is where I belong."

Her words were sure. In fact, a little hard. Maybe even a bit challenging. And there was something different about her. She seemed stronger, more determined. Like she had something to prove.

And that had been fine with him. He knew he needed her. He welcomed her back whole heartedly.

It wasn't until they were leaving, quite late that night, that he'd noticed that she was limping.

"Whoa, what happened to you?"

She delivered her slip and fall line flawlessly, with just enough self deprecation that he'd bought it hook, line, and sinker. Then they'd bantered nicely about the kitty litter.

It was her second day back that he noticed the bruises on her upper arms. Clusters of them, in various shades of purple and yellow.

"Well, you did quite a number on yourself." He'd said when she took her sweater off in the sweltering conference center.

Something had flashed in her eyes but he hadn't caught it.

"Well, I guess there's something to be said for having cats." She'd quipped, "at least then I would have had kitty litter."

He'd just grinned at her and turned his attention to the Governor's speech.

. . . .

"Idiot!" He mutters to himself. The signs were there. He'd missed them.

Finally, he stands up. He needs to get back to the Roosevelt Room. Because he's realized something monumental.

He loves Donna Moss.

Not like an employee. Not like a friend. Not like a little sister.

He loves her. He loves her wit. He loves her eyes. He loves her sense of humor. He loves her compassion. He loves her integrity. He loves her determination. He loves her sense of wonder. He loves her belief that they can make the world a better place.

He just loves her. And the thought of anyone hurting her makes him sick to his stomach. And he really doesn't want to let her out of his sight ever again.

The rest of the evening is awkward. He tries to make jokes but he's really not feeling very funny. He's anxious about his realizations. He's not sure what to do about either of them.

But Donna is in rare form. Making jokes, and having everyone eating out the palm of her hand. And it turns out that Ainsley really is funny too. Between the two of them and a couple recycled jokes from Government-wide Accountability for Merit System Principles, they're in good shape by the time Toby comes back into the room.

Less than an hour later, Toby sends them on their way. Josh follows Donna back to her cubicle and watches her put on her coat. Once they're both ready, he offers to drive her home.

He places his hand protectively on the small of her back and guides her out the door towards his car. He still doesn't know what to say. He'll spend some time tonight figuring out what to do next. And while he's at it, he'll take a look at the White House regulations, surely there's some sort of guidance in there about how to proceed once you figure out that you're in love with your assistant.