"State by states are out. We’re tied in South Carolina and Arkansas and California."
"California?"
"We pulled ahead in Arizona, Nevada, Virginia. We got the new national tracking polls –"
"The Times?"
"It's 44-44. We're tied."
"We're tied?"
"Nationally."
"Holy Mother of God, we caught 'em!"
~~~~~
"If Bono comes?" Donna asked, grinning at him.
"You'll get to meet him," Josh promised, loving the fact that she still got excited about meeting celebrities after all these years.
Her happiness was palpable, and he wondered, not for the first time, if he shouldn't bring up the marriage thing again. Let her know that he'd been serious, that it wasn't a whim, that her continued happiness, now and forevermore, were important to him. That it meant everything to him. Only maybe not in that flowery, girly way, he thought with a small grimace.
He opened his mouth to say something, but his courage failed him and he shut it again without uttering a sound.
Oblivious to his thoughts, she gestured back towards the tents that had been set up for the staff. "I should go call and find out about Kazakhstan."
"Yeah, see if you can't find out what the hell the White House is planning," he told her distractedly. "We don't want to revise our position every time CNN shows ten new seconds of footage."
Donna nodded. "Ok."
He watched her turn away and cursed himself for talking politics and not taking the opportunity while he'd had it. With steely determination, he nervously called her back. "Uh, Donna?"
She swiveled back towards him. "Yeah?"
He took a deep breath and took off his sunglasses. "The, ah, thing I said. At the wedding a few weeks ago."
She frowned in confusion. "Ellie's wedding?"
He ducked his head a little. "Yeah."
"The thing about the custom-made bird's nest?" The words were joking, but her tone wasn't, and Josh's unease grew.
He swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. But not the bird's nest part. The planning something for us part."
She stilled completely, staring at him with those big blue eyes. "The planning something for us part," she repeated slowly.
"Yeah. I was thinking something simple. Just us and a few friends. If, you know, that's something you might be interested in."
Her hand flew to her mouth. "You… Oh my god, Josh! You're really…You're serious!"
"I am," he confirmed.
Taking the three steps back to him, she hugged him tightly, burying her face against his shoulder. "Oh, Josh…"
"No, Donna… Don't. Don't get emotional… Donnnna," he pleaded. He could hear a stray sniffle or two and he pulled away a little, cupping her face in his hands. "This is the good type of crying, right?"
She nodded emphatically and gave him a watery smile. "Yes. It's the good kind."
"Good." He kissed her softly. "So… yes? That's a yes?" he asked, a glimmer of anxiety still in his voice.
"It's a yes," she confirmed.
He smiled and kissed her again, wondering why he'd been so nervous. This was Donna, his Donna – his soon-to-be legally wedded wife Donna-- and he should have known better than to think she wouldn't want to marry him.
True, she hadn't mentioned the marriage thing since he'd first brought it up, but Donna wasn't the type to simply ignore something so important. She'd probably been waiting for things with the campaign to calm down a little before --
Shit. The campaign. As happy as he was at this moment, he suddenly realized what lousy timing he had.
Pulling away from their kiss, he glanced over at the staging area, then turned back to Donna. "We can't do anything with the election only three weeks away," he said, "But as soon as it's over --win or lose – we do this."
She nodded, still sniffling a little bit but looking incredibly happy. "Ok. After the election."
He raised an eyebrow at her, surprised that she was so readily agreeing with him. "Really?
"Really," she answered, laughing despite the wet splotches on her cheeks. "I want to win this election just as much as you do, and it's going to take every bit of energy we have to do it. There's no way we could campaign and organize even a simple wedding at the same time."
"And you're not concerned about doing it so quickly?"
"No. Absolutely not." Her grin was huge and her eyes bright, and he thought yet again how very much her loved her.
He was about to kiss her again, when a cheer from the crowd reminded him where they were. It was time to get them back to less emotional ground. "You know, it won't look good if our campaign spokesperson appears as if she's been crying. People might think she's afraid we're losing," he teased.
"Then maybe the campaign manager shouldn't have asked her something like this in full view of the press during a work day," she retorted, a small laugh escaping her.
"Yeah, but I wouldn't be me if I had done something traditional, with dinner and flowers and everything," he said, smirking.
"No, you wouldn't." She wiped the traces of moisture from her cheeks. Gesturing towards the staff tents again, she said, "I should go make those calls."
"Yeah. Let me know when you need me for the magazine interviews," he said, comfortable with talking about campaign issues now that the marriage thing had finally been settled. Or as settled as it could be until after election day.
She smiled and nodded. "Ok."
"Ok," he replied, grinning back at her. He paused to watch her walk away, then pulled his cell phone out and got back to work.
~~~~~
"You can win this thing if you get him out to California right now."
~~~~~
"C'mere," Donna said, tugging him by the arm.
He sighed heavily but followed along. "Donna, I've got nine million –"
"Come with me," she insisted, dragging him into an empty office they'd been using for storage and shutting the door behind them.
He quirked a brow at her. "The storage closet?"
"There's not a single phone or TV in sight," she answered distractedly, before getting to the heart of the matter. "Was that Bob on the phone?"
His gaze faltered. "Uh. Yeah."
"Listen to him," she ordered.
"Listen to him?" Josh asked incredulously. "He's the one who told us to get to California and look how well /that's/ going!"
"He was right," Donna said. "This is just like San Andreo. You're over-thinking, trying to do too much, and second-guessing every move. You need to stop doing that."
"Donna! It's two weeks out and we're in a state that we have no chance of winning," he exclaimed, his voice getting higher and louder.
"Which is exactly why you need to trust the rest of us. Lou is handling California –"
"Which we're /losing/," he ranted, practically bouncing up and down in his agitation.
"Which we'll get back," Donna reminded him calmly. "Lou's taking care of California. Edie and Bram are working on Friday's schedule. I've got every news outlet from Illinois to Florida to North Carolina on the phone. We have things covered."
"We don't! The whole media buy thing is still in flux –"
"Josh."
"There's Indiana, the whole Midwest -- "
"Josh."
"-- Pennsylvania's still in play. Oh, and did I happen to mention /we're losing in California/?"
"Josh!" she repeated.
He stopped and stared at her. His breathing was still labored, but his eyes no longer had that crazy look in them, and he was focusing on her, not on the electoral map in his head. Lowering her voice, she took his face between her hands. "You need to relax. Take a walk. Read a book. Anything. But you need to let this go. At least for a little while. Let the rest of us do our jobs, ok?"
He nodded slowly, and Donna was relieved to notice that his breathing was evening out. "Yeah, I… yeah. Ok."
She offered him a small smile and lowered her hands, but he caught them, and clasped them to his chest. They stood quietly like that for several minutes until Donna's cell phone rang, startling them both.
He smiled briefly and released her hands. "Go ahead. Get it."
After a moment's hesitation, she grabbed the phone, glancing briefly at the screen before returning her gaze to his face. "You're sure?"
"Yeah. I'm… ok. I just need a minute. Maybe I'll go outside and breathe that stuff you call fresh air."
She shot another worried look his way, but nodded, taking him at his word. "Good."
"Yeah." With a quick scrub of his hands through his hair, he opened the storage room door and walked quietly through the war room to the exit.
Donna watched his retreating back for a second and then flipped open her phone. "Donna Moss…"
~~~~~
"The Congressman's briefcase: what's inside there?"
"Road stuff, toothbrush, electric razor, sometimes a wallet. Why?"
"We seem to have lost it and he seems kind of worried."
"They guy's running a tie for the Presidency and he's got two weeks left. You can expect him to look worried once in a while."
"So, there's nothing bad in there."
"Like?"
"I don't know: heroin, porn?"
"No, that's all mine."
~~~~~
An hour later -- after fielding several calls from reporters wanting to know Santos' reaction to Vinick's press conference /and/ after hearing some disturbing whispers amongst the support staff -- Donna found Josh in his office, pacing.
"Porn and Heroin?" she asked, perching on the edge of his desk.
His stopped pacing, his eyes flying to hers, and she saw amusement and concern battling there. "You heard about that?"
"Are you kidding? Half the office is talking about it." She handed him a sheaf of papers with the California numbers. "Page two. Orange County."
"Only half?" he asked as he started to read the figures.
She shrugged and smiled a little bit. "The other half is afraid it's true."
"Good. They should be," he said, his mouth quirking up in a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"What's really in the briefcase?"
Josh sighed, the small smile fading as quickly as it had appeared. "I have no idea." He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at his watch. "Do we have the new figures from Illinois yet?"
"No. They haven't changed in the last half hour," Donna answered.
His cheeks puffed and he blew out a long breath. "Yeah, that's not gonna work for me." He walked over to the door and threw it open. "Somebody get me the numbers from Illinois!" he bellowed.
She got up and joined him at the door. "Josh. You need to relax. I wasn't joking about that before."
"I know," he answered wearily. "I tried."
She raised a doubtful eyebrow at him.
"Stop doing that," he groused, moving back towards the desk. "It's… freakish. You're starting to look like me. Not, you know, exactly like me. That would be really freakish, but...." He glanced at her, still standing quietly and stubbornly by the door. "I tried. Really. I took a walk and everything. Ask Ronna. Or Bram."
"As a matter of fact, I've already talked to Ronna. She said you disappeared for about twenty minutes and came back looking… well, slightly less like hell."
"Gee, thanks."
Her lips quirked up slightly. "You're welcome."
He shot a look in her direction. "You're not helping, you know."
"Yes, I am," she stated, matter-of-factly. She gestured to the abandoned papers on his desk. "I need to call the Herald and the Times about California. And somewhere between those calls and a dozen others, I need to find time to sit down with Helen and talk about what she should be doing in the next few weeks." Her voice softened. "Are you going to be ok?"
"Yeah," he answered tiredly, before raising a questioning brow at her. "You're still dealing with Mrs. Santos? I thought she had a staff of her own now."
"She does, but they're not much more experienced than Helen herself and she doesn't like being handled. Annabeth and I have been pitching in when we can. Is that a problem?"
"No. It's good." He looked impressed and Donna smiled at him again. She started to leave, but his voice stopped her. "Donna?"
She turned back to him. "Yeah?"
"Thanks." He paused. "Seriously."
"You're welcome," she said, her smile getting broader. "Seriously."
~~~~~
"Nancy McNally left."
"Uh, yes, sir. She had a last-minute meeting –"
"Yeah, can we get her on the phone?"
"Sure. Sir, there's an issue with the Tonight Show."
"The Tonight Show."
"Leno's got this idea for a sketch. It involves a Robin Hood costume -- we're not that wild about the costume, or – "
"I need to get McNally on the phone. I've got a conference call with Hal Waller at nine -- you really think this is the best use of my time?"
~~~~~
Reaching up into the overhead compartment, Josh grabbed a pillow and blanket and handed them down to Donna. "We have an hour or two before we land in Houston. You should get some sleep."
"So should you," she observed, looking up at him and smothering a yawn behind her hand.
He sighed tiredly and took a seat beside her. "Maybe I'll find some time to pencil it next week," he joked weakly.
She tilted her head in his direction. "Maybe you should find some time tonight."
"Sure. Right in between all the campaign stuff and helping you with the Leno bit," he said with a soft snort.
She groaned and dipped her head against his shoulder. "Oh god, don't remind me. I'm going to dream about men prancing around in tights and playing the clarinet all night."
He managed a small, tired smile. "So when I wake you up later you might think I'm actually Alan-a-Dale ?"
She lifted her head and stifled a laugh. "More like Little John. But if you'd really prefer Alan…"
"Little John would be fine. But I like the idea of being your minstrel, you know," he added with a small smirk.
"I know," she said, smiling back. "I'm sure by the time you wake me up I'll have moved past the whole Robin Hood thing, though, and onto the Muppets, the Rockettes, the crew of the Enterprise..."
He laughed softly. "While you're on the Enterprise, see if you can't find out how to use their transporters. It would sure as hell cut down on all this flight time."
Her lips tilted up. "Oh, you mean transporting's an option? How silly of me not to realize that."
"Funny." He pulled the thin airplane blanket over her shoulder, tucking it tenderly beneath her chin. "Seriously. Stop thinking. Get some sleep."
"What about you?" she asked, blinking sleepily at him.
"Soon," he promised. "I've got to call Nancy McNally again and talk to the Congressman about tomorrow morning's schedule before I can even think about catching any sleep."
She raised her head, looking worried. "Is he still concerned about the security briefing?"
Josh shrugged. "I think he's getting over it. Finally. It's just going to be a slow process."
"We only have a week left," she reminded him.
"An accelerated slow process then," he corrected, re-tucking the blanket and kissing her lightly on the forehead.
She frowned, but didn't comment further.
"Sleep," he ordered softly, standing and fighting the urge to sit back down and snuggle in next to her.
"I will. Promise," she mumbled, her eyes already drifting shut. Josh waited until they had completely closed before making his way down the aisle towards the candidate's private quarters. Sleep could wait.
~~~~~~