The evening was a romantic dream come true. They were eating wonderful food, in a beautiful restaurant, at a fantastic resort.

It should have been perfect.

It wasn't.

For one thing, they weren�t talking much, and it wasn't a comfortable silence surrounding them, but an awkward, self-conscious one.

For another, Josh was picking at his food, and he had that pinched look on his face, the one she'd seen numerous times throughout the trip. The same one he'd been trying to hide from her.

She knew that look. He was worried about something - really worried. Her first guess would have been that he was concerned about the transition, but he'd been checking in with Sam regularly, and while she knew he was itching to get back to work, she also knew that everything in Washington was running smoothly.

So if it wasn't work, it must be her.

She thought back over the last few weeks, since this new relationship between them had begun. There'd been Election Day, then Leo's funeral, followed by that discussion about keys and his trip to California and �

She stopped eating when she realized exactly what his pinched look was about.

He'd said he thought they should talk. Granted, he sounded like he'd been about to throw up the entire contents of his stomach at the time, but he'd said it.

Later, when she'd shown up at his apartment, he'd said it again. He'd said he knew they had to talk but that he was simply too exhausted to get into it then and there.

She hadn't given him the opportunity. She'd simply plowed ahead, first telling him that his timing was inconvenient, then seducing him and giving him an ultimatum without letting him utter a word.

And he'd taken it. Even in the lobby of the West Wing, when she explained that she couldn't work for him, he'd taken it. He hadn't said, "No, Donna, I don't want to have this conversation." He'd simply said that the timing was bad. And there she'd been, issuing her ultimatum again.

Even here, in this paradise, she'd blocked every meager attempt he'd made at having a conversation, preempting him much the way he'd preempted her after Gaza.

He wasn't worried about work. He was worried about them.

And why shouldn't he be? She hadn�t exactly given him the impression that this was important to her, not with the things she'd said.

If we can't get it together in that time to figure out what we want from each other, then clearly, it's not worth the trouble.

Had she really said that?

He wasn't causing the downfall of this fledgling relationship � she was. Everything she'd said and done to this point had simply been her running scared, trying to avoid being devastated if he didn't want the relationship as much as she did.

She dropped her fork with a loud clatter, and Josh's head jerked up at the sound.

"I'm sorry," she blurted.

His brows knitted together. "What?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"For what?"

"For this. For issuing that stupid four-week ultimatum, for� not trusting you."

"I don't�" He looked at her, confusion clear in his expression. "Donna �"

Raising her hand, she silently begged him to be quiet so she could say what she needed to say. "You tried to talk to me," she said. "That morning in Texas and then again, later that same day... And I wasn't ready to listen because there was so much going on � interviews and getting the numbers and Leo and�" She took a deep breath. "You've done everything right and I've just been so scared that I haven�t been listening, and now we're on this wonderful vacation, but I've seen you getting this pinched look every time you think I'm not looking and it isn't because you're worried Sam won't keep the transition offices running smoothly but because you think I'm going to bolt." She stopped, gathering her courage together before finishing. "And I don't blame you."

"I don�t think you're going to bolt," he said.

"Yes, you do! I bolted after Gaza, I bolted in Texas. I bolted that morning in your apartment. I never stick around to let you say what you want to say. If I were you, I'd be terrified that I was going to bolt, too. You did all of this � " She gestured to the restaurant and to the beach beyond "- not because Sam urged you to, but because you thought you'd lose me."

"Well, to be fair, it was because of Sam," he inserted dryly. "He made me take a vacation. But without you to share it with, I would have just stayed home for the week, watching CNN fanatically and twisting myself into knots about staffing and the transition."

"Instead, you're here, tying yourself into knots, wondering how long it will be until I realize that I don't want to be with you." His face got that pinched look again, and she reached out to grasp his hand. "I'm not going to leave you."

"You don't need to �"

"I do," she insisted, squeezing his hand a little tighter. "I'm not going to leave you. Not now, not in four weeks."

"Three weeks, two days," he said, his lips twisting into a grim line.

"Not then either," she assured him. "It was dumb. It was stupid. I was scared."

"Donna�"

She smiled sadly at him. "I want a relationship with you, one that's not dependent on our jobs, one that we're both willing to be committed to. I think you want that too."

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Then I take back my ultimatum. Three weeks, four weeks, six months� we'll have the talk. It doesn't matter how long it takes. As long as we both know we're committed to this." He squinted at her, and she wondered how badly she'd botched this, if he even believed her after all the dumb moves she'd made in the last couple of weeks. She dropped her eyes, looking at the tablecloth instead of him. With a small humorless laugh, she added, "Unless I was wrong, in which case, we never have the talk and we part ways after this vacation, knowing we're better friends then lovers."

He squeezed her hand and she darted a glance up at him. He was smiling. "I think we should have the talk. In fact, I'm pretty sure we just had it."

"Josh�"

"No. No more self-recriminations� We've both screwed up and it's time we stopped. Right now." He let go of her hand to signal the waiter and then leaned in across the table. "We'll go back to the room, take advantage of that big whirl pool tub, and start fresh."

She looked at him. "That easy?"

"Hell no. You know the last time I indulged in a bath?"

"Never?"

He smirked. "Well, I'm sure there was a time when I was five or so..." He reached across the table, clasping her hand again. "Seriously, Donna, we�ll work it out."

She searched his eyes, looking for that pinched expression again, waiting for some sign that he couldn't possibly mean what he said. There was nothing there, just a soft, affectionate look she'd seen more times than she could count.

She smiled brightly at him. "Okay."

~The End~