Her dreams had been filled with clouded images - ones of violence and bloodshed. But Josh loved her. It was that simple fact that kept her from screaming and hiding within herself. She fought to regain control of her mind and memories and, as she did, she could sense a tangible presence. Through all the madness, there was a feeling of peace. He was with her - she could feel him as if he were standing right beside her.

The visions began to swirl into the mist and reality began to take shape. She had shot him. Her last vivid memory was of pulling the trigger and him dropping at her feet. Then there was another sound, another crack of gunfire and she had felt a sharp pain in the base of her neck. That was where the memories ended and the insanity began. As she replayed the scene over and over in her mind, there was something more. A beeping sound, rhythmic and soothing, getting louder and louder as each moment passed.

She struggled to open her eyes and as she did, felt someone squeeze her hand. With a start, she tried to pull away but found she had no control over her limbs. Her eyelids felt like ten-ton weights, but she was able to hear everything happening around her with perfect clarity.

"She's waking up. Call the doctor."

The voice sounded so familiar, and she wanted to shout out to him, but her own voice was in league with her limbs and wasn't cooperating, either.

"It's okay," he soothed. "Stay still. We're getting the doctor." Again, he squeezed her hand and she found that she was able to return the gesture, to the delight of her guardian. The joy in his voice was palpable as he whispered, "Come back to me, Donna."

Her mind screamed with the realization that Josh was sitting next to her, keeping watch over her. She fought through the remnants of the fog and opened her eyes to the dimly lit room. The beeping was still there and she realized instantly that she was hooked up to monitors of some sort. As her eyes became accustomed to the filtered light, she took in her surroundings, coming to rest on a visage she had thought she would never see again.

He looked like hell. Josh's normally unruly hair was beyond hope, and his eyes were ringed with the telltale baggage of too many sleepless nights. His left arm was in a sling, but his right was fine, and it was with that hand that he held on to her with all his might. She looked back to his eyes and furrowed her brow in worry when she saw how glazed and tired they really were.

She had so many questions. What had happened? How had she gotten there? What had happened to him? She tried to speak but couldn't force the words.

"Relax," Josh told her, a quaver in his voice. "I know you have questions. As soon as the doctor looks you over, I'll tell you everything, okay?"

Donna nodded and squeezed his hand once more, the warmth of his skin calming her worries.

Josh watched from a few feet away as the specialist and his assistant checked Donna's vitals. She was gradually regaining her ability to speak and was answering their questions with a weak and gravely voice. After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor turned his attention away from Donna.

"Mr. Lyman," he said, taking Josh by the arm and leading him a few more feet away. "She's going to be just fine. She's still going to be tired and groggy - that's just the after-effect of the tranquilizer darts. She was hit with so many that it's no surprise she's taken this long to come out of it."

Josh nodded and looked over the doctor's shoulder at her prone form. "Is she going to be okay?"

"She'll be just fine," he repeated. "You can help her take some small sips of water, but nothing more than that. She may be queasy for a while longer. You can talk to her, but don't upset her, and don't be surprised if she drifts off in the middle of a sentence. She's been through a lot."

"We all have," Josh agreed, shaking the doctor's hand with his good hand. "Thank you." The doctor nodded and left, leaving him alone with Donna and a room full of questions. He returned to his seat at her bedside and set about pouring a small cup of water.

"I suppose you're thirsty?" he asked, holding the cup out to her, tipping the straw so she could grasp it with her lips. "Take small sips, okay?"

She nodded slightly and took a couple sips, licking her lips when he pulled the cup away. "What happened?" she asked.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" He took in her appearance. Sure, she was awake, but she'd been through hell and had been tranqued into oblivion.

"I have to know," she whispered.

Josh placed the cup on the table and clasped her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "What's the last thing you remember?" he cautiously asked.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before replying. "We were at your speech and I was going to shoot you," she began. Her throat was still raw, so she spoke slowly, swallowing after every few words. "It wasn't me, though. I was going to do it. I was really going to shoot you."

Josh snorted and nodded toward the sling cradling his left arm. "You sort of did," he remarked lightly. "Either you're a terrible shot, or I got really lucky."

"You broke through to me," she said with a smile. "I winged you on purpose."

"Do you remember what I said?" he prodded.

"I do," she replied, tightening her grip on his hand. "I remember everything now."

Josh closed his eyes and swallowed past the lump forming in his throat. "I meant it," he said.

Her voice was barely a whisper but he heard her clearly. "I know," she said. "But you have to tell me what happened after that."

With a chuckle, he realized how much he had missed her inquisitive nature. "Okay," he relented. "I'll tell you everything, but you need to lay still and rest. Let me know if it gets to be too much for you."

"I promise." She settled back into her pillows and motioned for him to begin.

He explained everything, relating even the slightest detail, knowing she would question him if he left anything out. He told her how the F.B.I. had known all along that she had been contacted early. They had already put a trace on Sam's phone, immediately after their meeting at C.J. and Toby's house, and knew she was no longer in control of her actions. The call had been traced back to Alan Shastro's hideout and his phone tapped as well, so even though he made the second, dummy, call to her from a pay phone, they were still able to catch him in the end.

The F.B.I. had decided to keep Josh and Sam out of the loop so as to maintain a level of believability. There was a good chance they were all being watched, so they had to keep the possibility of something going wrong to a minimum.

Josh went on to tell her how the entire room had been filled with plain-clothed F.B.I. and Secret Service agents so they could keep the whole ordeal undercover. There would be no mention of anything in the press. Everyone had been equipped with tranquilizer guns, just in case something went horribly wrong - another tidbit of information Josh had not been privy to - and that was what had knocked her out.

No one had been certain that Donna had regained control so when she fired the shot at Josh, everyone had reacted, realizing after the fact that he *had* been shot, but it had been only a graze.

Donna had been out for four days, and in that amount of time, Alan Shastro had been apprehended and had fully confessed to everything, striking a plea bargain to avoid the death penalty.

"This is where it gets interesting," Josh said, interrupting his narrative for a personal aside. "He offered to turn in the person who had hired him to do this to you."

"And?" Donna prompted. The suspense was nearly killing her.

"I think an 'I told you so' is in order," he beamed.

"It *was* Amy?" She shook her head in bewilderment. "And you're happy about this?"

His smile faded and he quickly amended, "Well, not about the part that my wife tried to have me killed . . . but . . . I *was* right."

"Of course you were," she placated him with a grin. "You're always right - when will I ever learn?"

"That's what I keep saying but no one seems to listen," he replied, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. "Anyway, he turned her in, and she's in custody right now. 'Conspiracy to commit murder'. I think that's grounds enough for divorce, don't you?"

Donna nodded then paused, closing her eyes. Josh had thought she had fallen asleep when she asked, "Why?"

He was taken aback by the question. "Why, what?" he replied.

"Why did she do it?"

Josh nodded, knowing Donna wouldn't be able to put her demons to rest until she knew what the motivation had been behind Amy's actions. Sadly, he knew what he could tell her wouldn't even scratch the surface. "I asked her that same question. She was power hungry. It was like I thought all along."

"Why me, though? I mean, I'm sure there could have been someone less conspicuous to use, right?"

Her hold on his hand tightened as she tried to figure it out on her own. He had hoped they could leave that portion of the story for later, but he knew she would fret over it and eventually make herself sick with worry if he didn't tell her right away. "It had to be you," he explained. "It wasn't enough for her to kill me. She wanted to break me, too. She knew how I cared about you, long before I really did. You said it yourself. Poetic justice."

She shook her head and he knew it was all too new and confusing to make much sense. "But how does one go from being - well - her, to doing what she did?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I suppose years of therapy might sort that out, but as it stands, she's responsible, and she's going to pay."

Donna relaxed and sighed deeply; letting his words sink in. He hoped they would bring her some comfort. Then she asked, "What about me?"

He grinned and patted her hand. "That's easy. You're going to rest and recover. Then, you're coming to dinner."

"Dinner?" She cocked her head to the side, the twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

"Dinner. If Mrs. Bartlet doesn't see you soon, I'm going to have to relocate to another country."

Two weeks later, Josh and Donna sat in the living room of the President's New Hampshire farmhouse. Dinner had been excellent, a roast and vegetables that the First Lady had insisted upon fixing herself. It had been friendly and informal, although the retelling of the faux-shooting was never easy to bear.

"What are your plans now, Donna?" Mrs. Bartlet asked, sipping from a mug of steaming coffee.

Donna leaned against Josh and sighed. "We're headed to Wisconsin to see my family. I have a lot of explaining to do, it seems. I plan on restoring my hair color as soon as we get back to D.C. After that? I don't know. There's always Sam's offer, although it might not be easy to work for someone who's afraid of me."

Abbey raised an eyebrow and looked to Josh for an explanation.

"It seems Sam walked in on Donna while she was working out," Josh said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer. His arm was now out of the sling, the graze almost fully healed. "He's convinced she could kick his ass."

"I could," Donna assured everyone, winning a chuckle from Jed.

"That's why I offered to hire her on as my personal bodyguard," Josh continued. "It seems that with the restoration of her memory, she's also been able to remember all of that training she went through. She's pretty much lethal."

"Doesn't that mean she could just as easily kick your ass, Josh?" the President pointed out, earning a smack on the leg from his wife.

"Yes, Sir, I believe she could," he admitted.

"She could do that before, Josh," Abbey told him, winking at Donna. "In fact, I'd need more than two hands to count the number of times she's smacked you down in the past."

"Yes, Ma'am. That's true." Josh sighed and turned to Donna, touching his forehead to hers. "But now she can do it with finesse."

"I'm just glad everything worked out," Jed said as he took a sip of his brandy. "I know it was a rough road to travel, but the destination looks to be well worth it."

Later that evening, Donna sat on the front porch, alone with her thoughts. The night was cold and quiet, and from her seat on the steps, she could see a thousand stars twinkling in the night sky. Two years had been stolen from her past but her future stretched out before her like the Milky Way . . . and she was terrified.

"You're going to catch a cold."

She smiled when he spoke. He'd been standing behind her, silently watching for several minutes, but she'd known of his presence the entire time. Briefly, she wondered if that was due, in part, to her training, or if she was finally getting back in synch with him - or both.

"Come sit," she said, and the creak of the old wood under his feet told her he was complying. He sat close to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, and looked out into the night sky. She knew something was on his mind, but she wasn't going to rush him.

"I got the papers yesterday," he said, breaking the silence. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the white plume of steam coming from his mouth as he spoke. "Everything looks to be in order, although I'm going to have Sam look through them before I sign. You know - because in spite of my law degree, some people seem to think I'm not a 'real' lawyer."

"That's a good idea," Donna agreed with mock-seriousness, leaning her head on his chest.

"I knew you'd think so."

He lapsed into silence again, giving Donna time to reflect. Things between them had been baby steps since she'd been released from the hospital. Sam had insisted she remain with him until she could get a job and a place of her own, although there was still the standing offer for her to come to work for him. The offer was tempting, and it would be good to be on the inside when he inevitably made his run for the White House. Contrary to Sam's weak protests, she knew he'd end up there eventually.

Nothing more had been said about Josh's words that afternoon in the convention hall. Sure, it had been mentioned when she had awakened in the hospital, but she had been groggy, and he had just been through the emotional wringer. So they still hung heavily between them - the elephant in the room that no one wanted to mention. Had he meant what he said? Was it just a means for him to get through to her in a moment of panic? She didn't want to ask him for fear that he might tell her the truth and have it be something she didn't want to hear.

Now, sitting together in the stillness of a cold New Hampshire evening, they were finally alone. There was finally a chance for some real conversation without Sam or C.J. or Toby or any number of other friends or relatives being in the room. This was their first true moment alone since their conversation in the hospital room when she'd first awakened.

"We need to talk," Josh said, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

"You read my mind," she admitted, feeling silly and trite for saying so.

"If all goes well," he continued, passing over her comment in his haste to speak his feelings, "I should be a single man by the first of the year."

"Mmm-hmm."

"I think you should take the job with Sam."

This was going to be one of those conversations, she realized, where the twists and turns would be enough to render a normal human unconscious. "Why is that?" she asked.

"I just think it would be a good experience."

"Really." She paused, wondering if he was expecting something more from her.

"And he needs all the help he can get," he added for emphasis.

Donna grinned and asked, "What about you? I seem to recall a certain Deputy Chief of Staff that couldn't tie his own tie without his trusted assistant."

Josh was quiet for a moment, then he whispered, "He grew up."

"How sad," Donna replied, snuggling closer to him for warmth.

"Not really," Josh explained, and she could feel him shaking his head as he did. "He finally realized how much that assistant really meant to him, and he knows that if he begs for her to come back to work for him, he won't be able to date her like he wants."

Donna laughed and pulled away from him to be able to look him in the eye. "Can we stop talking in the third person now?"

"You started it."

"And now I'm ending it."

He continued to look straight ahead so she was rewarded with only one dimple when he grinned and said, "Do we have to? It's kind of fun."

"It's giving me a headache," she said, lightly punching him in the arm.

"Okay." He turned his head slightly and winked at her, starting her heart hammering in her chest when she saw the mischief in his eyes.

She took in a deep breath and asked the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. "So, what are you saying?"

Josh sucked in a breath as well, as he turned his attention back to the expanse of night sky. Then, he exhaled and turned back to her, his eyes mirroring the light of his smile. "I'm saying, Donnatella, that I don't want you to work for me - assistant, bodyguard or otherwise. I'm saying I want you to date me."

Her heart had stopped when he had turned to her, and it took a moment for his words to register. "Date you?" she asked, knowing full well that she hadn't misheard him.

"Yes." His reply was simple and straightforward.

"Why?" She couldn't help but ask him, and she knew from the look he gave her that he was expecting it.

His arm snaked around her shoulder, and he pulled her close to him, their noses nearly touching and his lips inches from hers when he whispered, "Because I love you madly?"

"Good answer," she said as he closed the short distance between them, though she realized afterward that it had come out as more of a sigh. The gentleness of his kiss was breathtaking, and Donna found herself wrapping her arms around his neck to keep from melting away. This wasn't a kiss to claim her, she realized as his arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer. This was a kiss of promise, of growing old together and being able to spend your life with your best friend. Time had been stolen from them; but that had only served to awaken them to the notion that life waits for no one.

She knew then that she'd take the job with Sam, and she'd eventually help him get elected. She'd sit in the White House and listen to Josh's complaints while he counseled his best friend as Chief of Staff - or, more likely, Vice President. They would take each day one at a time and survive whatever life threw at them.