I'm trapped in the White House on a Saturday. I'm trapped here because I didn't go home last night.

It started snowing late last night and as of 6am there are twelve inches on the ground and it's not supposed to stop snowing until tomorrow. The weather people on TV are calling it the freak blizzard of 2001. A week before Christmas. At least it'll be a white one this year.

The forecast is calling for almost 20 inches before it's over, so I am officially closing down the federal government.

I start calling staff members so none of them try to make it in. Toby, Sam, CJ, Margaret, they all answer and promise to start the phone tree. Josh didn't answer when I tried him the first time. Stupid kid is probably on his way in.

I try his home number again.


A sleepy female who sounds a lot like Donna just answered Josh's phone.

"Josh Lyman, please." I'll be civil, just in case it's not Donna.

"Josh, phone. Come on, Josh, wake up and answer the phone. Joshua!"

Definitely Donna. I can feel a grin tug at my lips.


He doesn't sound any more awake than Donna. This is going to be so much fun.

"Josh, why did Donna answer your phone at 6 a.m. on a Saturday?"

"It's on her side of the bed."

He can't be awake, he would never have said that if he was.

"Josh, why is Donna in your bed?"



I'm awake now and mentally reviewing what has come out of my mouth. Oh, shit. I just confirmed to Leo that not only did Donna answer my phone, but she did it because it was on her side of the bed.

"Josh, when you come to work on Monday, stop by my office. Until then, don't come to work."

He sounds annoyed. Shit, shit, shit.

"Leo, look"

"Calm down, Josh. Have you looked outside? I don't want anyone trying to come in until Monday at the earliest. Call CJ, then enjoy your weekend."

After hanging up the phone, I crawl out of bed and peek out my window. Damn. It snowed. A lot. It's still snowing. Can you say blizzard?

That established, I crawl back into bed.

With Donna.

Donna's in my bed. Naked. I'm naked.

There's only one thing to do in this situation.

Kiss her. Kiss her neck; kiss her breasts. Have I mentioned how cute her belly button is?

"That was Leo?"

Damn, I was hoping she had missed me screaming that.

"Mmm, hmm."

Sue me, I'm a little busy here.

"I answered your phone on a Saturday morning at 6 o'clock and it was Leo?"

Maybe if I move a bit south of her belly button, she'll stop worrying about Leo.

I get one lick in and fingers pinch my ear, dragging me away from her warmth.


"No distracting me, Joshua."

I flop down on my back and pull her to my chest.

"He called to tell us to not come to work today."

"We weren't going to work anyway."

"All weekend actually."


"It snowed last night."

"So? It snows in Washington during the winter."

"It snowed a lot. It's still snowing. We're sort of trapped here."

And can I think of things to do to pass the time.

"What else?"

"I have to see Leo on Monday," I mutter.


She's upset.

"I'm also supposed to call CJ and we're supposed to enjoy the weekend."


Bastard. He could have told me that up front.

"Go shower, I'll call CJ."

She'll take it better coming from me. If Josh tells her, she'll burst an artery.

He shakes his head, "I'll call CJ, then we can fool around."

I was going to join him in the shower, but I guess that can wait. Handing him the phone, I signal my agreement.


She picks up on the first ring.

"CJ Cregg."

"Hi, Claudia."

"Idiot Boy."

Someone is not in a good mood. No point in pussy-footing around.

"So, you're always my first call, right?"

"What have you done?!"


I've got a horrible feeling about this. Leo mentioned the dumbass hadn't answered his phone.

"I took Donna out to dinner last night."

Maybe this isn't so bad.

"And we decided it was time to change the nature of our relationship."

It's about damn time.

"I just wanted you to know, you know, in case you got the question."

"Is this for public announcement?"

I can actually hear him thinking. It's frightening.

"No. I mean, don't deny it, but we'd like to keep this low key and off the radar for as long as possible."

"Put Donna on."

"What makes you think she's here?"

"How stupid am I?"


Josh hands me the phone. It's hard to keep the smile off my face.


"You held out on me."

"I wasn't sure."

"So, how is it?"

"Things are good, CJ, very good."

"You're gonna be sore on Monday."

"Bye, CJ." I hang up on her, thinking I'm already sore.

Josh is already kissing his way down my body, stopping once again at my belly button. I do not understand his fascination.

"What is your deal with my belly button?"

"It's cute."

"There aren't other parts of me you find cute?"

"I think your down there' is very cute."

"You can't call it my down there'."

"What do you want me to call it?"

Having no good answer, I try misdirection.

"What should I call your down there'?"

"Hmm." He thinks for a minute. His forehead gets all scrunched up, it's really quite adorable.



"Yeah, Bob."

While I'm laughing, he sticks his tongue back in my belly button. It's becoming a serious turn on.

"Josh?" I say sweetly, reaching down and discovering that he's less than fully aroused.


"How about Spongebob?" I giggle.

He's licking me and it's impossible to concentrate.

"Okay, Squarepants."

I cannot argue with him when he's got his tongue in my Squarepants and his fingers are doing that.


I love the way she tastes. It's hard to describe, but it's the essence of Donna. I could pitch a tent down here and live happily for the rest of my life.

Unfortunately, Spongebob is not so spongy anymore and I think Squarepants is ready, too.

I reposition us so we're facing each other on our sides, our thighs touching.

"Feel flexible?" If she doesn't this isn't going to work.

She's touching that spot behind my ear again.


Am I feeling flexible?


What did I just agree to?


When we're finished, Donna cuddles to my chest and quickly falls back to sleep.

I brush the hair from her face and join her.


It's shortly after 9 when I wake up again. Josh is still out cold. We fell asleep in the same position we made love, how awkward is that?

I try to untangle myself without waking him so I can take a long, hot shower. God, am I sore. I think there might be chafing.


The absence of warmth wakes me. I know I fell asleep with a naked Donna in my arms, where did she go?

The sound of the shower starting evaporates my worry. I grab a pair of boxers and head for the kitchen to make breakfast.

My fridge has food in it.

Oh yeah, the cleaning lady was here yesterday. I pay her extra to clean my fridge out once a week and restock, so I guess she's my cleaning and grocery lady.

I start the coffee, find some clean plates and start making french toast.


When I get out of the shower, the smell of warm maple syrup and the sound of Josh singing to Schoolhouse Rock assails me.

That's still on???

"I'm just a bill sitting here on Capitol Hill."

I dig through his drawers, searching for the cheesy cartoon character underwear I know is in here. I have long lived under the suspicion that Josh and Sam belong to some "cartoon boxers of the month club."

See? Here's the proof. A drawer full of them.

Wile E. Coyote? No.

Scooby Doo? No, those are Sam's. Don't ask.

Spiderman? No.

Spongebob Squarepants? Oh, yeah.

I grab one of his old t-shirts and head for the kitchen.

Josh, wearing nothing but Rubber Ducky boxer shorts, is cooking, dancing around the kitchen and still singing.

Well, then I'm off to the White House

Where I'll wait in a line

With a lot of other bills

For the President to sign.

At least I'm not the only one who learned civics from Saturday morning cartoons.


The sound of giggling interrupts my trip down memory lane.

Donna found my cartoon boxers. I'm never going to see that pair again.

"Hungry?" I ask, gesturing towards the table.

"French toast and champagne?"

"I'm out of strawberries."


After breakfast we end up in the living room watching cartoons, giggling about how bad the new generation of Saturday morning viewing is. We agree there will be no CNN or C-SPAN or anything political this weekend.

It's a Spongebob Squarepants weekend.

After three hours of watching cartoons and tickling each other, we're a pathetic heap on the sofa. I finally get up when all we can find are fishing and automotive shows.

I start digging through Josh's movie collection. I doubt he's gotten anything new, but you never know. It's a shrine to testosterone: the Die Hard collection; all four Stars Wars movies, the original ones twice; Under Siege; Lethal Weapon; Indiana Jones; Monty Python; the Chris Farley collection; everything from Adam Sandler. I hate all of these movies.

"What are you looking for?"

"Something that doesn't explode or revolve around fart jokes."


I keep the girly movies under lock and key. If Sam or Toby or CJ ever found out about the collection of romantic comedies and Disney flicks in my apartment, I'd be laughed out of the West Wing.

I pry myself off the couch.

"I'll find us something."

They're buried in my closet, in a box marked "Tax Records - 1986."

I find the one I'm looking for quickly and return to the living room.

"Will this work?"

I toss her the tape.

"Bull Durham?"

"What? I'm compromising here."

"It's a baseball movie."

"You've never seen it." She can't have seen it. Bull Durham is not just a baseball movie.

"It's a baseball movie, Joshua."

"Put the movie in, Donnatella."


Josh goes to make popcorn and open a bottle of wine. I scrounge up some blankets and pillows.

We settle into each other's arms on the couch and I hit play on the remote.

"The Church of Baseball?"

"Are you going to talk through the entire movie?"

"It's a baseball movie."

"Donna, it's not just a baseball movie."

I still think he's rationalizing this to me.

Until Kevin Costner delivers that speech. About how he believes in the sweet spot, the small of a woman's back and the designated hitter.

I can feel Josh mouthing the words along with the movie.

"You have this memorized," I accuse.

He shrugs.

"It's my favorite movie."

It's not long before I discover the source of his fascination with garters.

It's only 3 o'clock when the show ends, but it is already dark outside from the falling snow. We just sit in the half-light watching the flakes fall out the window.



"Do you want kids?"


I'm half asleep, completely content to stay here the rest of the day and she just blindsided me with one of those dangerous relationship questions.

I shift slightly under her, or having kids won't be an option.

"Little versions of you and me?"

She giggles a little bit.

"Yes, children."

I consider this for a moment. Little versions of Donna and me. A family. The idea comforts me more than I thought was possible and I hug her closer to me.

"Kids would be good."

"How many?"

Now she sounds unsure of herself.

"As many as we have."

"What about religion?"

I get the impression that she's checking things off a list. If she doesn't get them all checked off, I get the boot.

"I'm assuming the Church of Baseball is not an option."

"Josh. This is important to me that we talk about this stuff in advance. So neither of us is surprised."

So we go down Donna's checklist about like I thought we would: in agreement. In less than an hour, we have a roadmap for our future. None of it is on a firm timetable, but we've talked about it.


I feel better having talked about that stuff. I don't want to be surprised in six months when we find out that we have completely different versions of the future.

Josh is kissing the back of my neck.

"Let's practice."

I'm pretty sure I know what he's referring to.

"Practice what?"

"Making babies. I mean, if we practice a lot, when we start playing for real, it ought to be easy."


"I want to eat my cheesecake."



We untangle ourselves from the couch and wander into the kitchen.

I dig the take-home box out of the fridge, grab a fork and hop onto the counter.

"Josh, that's my chocolate mousse cheesecake."

I grin at her. This has potential.

"Come here."

I gesture to the spot on the counter next to me. When she gets settled, I give her a bite. Kind of a reward system.

She closes her eyes and savors the dessert. I'm really glad we brought this home last night. I couldn't have handled it in the restaurant.


Cheesecake finished, I rest my head on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around me.

"Bed, Josh."

It's all I can muster at this point and the weekend is only half over.