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“I wanted it to be you so badly.”
“Hmm?” Donna mumbles, face nuzzled into her pillow and eyes squeezed shut to block out the late morning sun streaming in through the open balcony doors. She can hear the waves lapping on the shore, birds chirping outside, voices and laughter from the beach — and Josh’s soft, gentle breathing beside her.
She doesn’t think she’s ever been this content in her life, lying here in the warm Hawaii sun, having slept a full eight hours for the first time in over a year, tangled in bedsheets and surrounded by Josh.
It’s hard to believe that it’s been just over twenty-four hours since she left an awestruck Josh in his apartment with a lingering kiss and an ultimatum, that it’s been less than that since Helen offered her the Chief of Staff job that she still can’t quite wrap her head around, since Josh tried to stammer his way out of their — whatever this is that’s finally happening between them, whatever this is that’s been between them for almost eight years, if she’s being honest.
There had been murmurings around the halls of the East Wing, rumours of Josh losing his rag and taking it out on his poor assistant. And Donna hadn’t wanted to believe it, had been more than ready to defend his honour, not that anyone had deigned to ask her, but then Josh had turned up at her desk, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than she’d ever seen, his hands clenched in tight fists at his sides, his shoulders trembling with the effort of holding himself together.
And she has no idea how she had missed the signs.
How she had missed the tension that’s been weighing him down for months, the exhaustion seeping through his every movement, his frustration, his irritability, his short fuse that’s left him snapping and swearing and complaining far more than usual. How she hadn’t noticed the swagger that’s been missing from his walk, that boyish charm he used to tease her about, the dimpled grin he used to give her whenever she would make terrible jokes.
Her point is — she’s been through this before. They’ve been through this before. Only, this time, Donna had missed all the signs she once had memorised to heart, and Josh had been left fighting these demons all by himself.
“Come to Hawaii,” he’d blurted out, anxious and terrified, a smirk on his face that she’d been able to see right through.
And his request had caught her off guard, had her tilting her head at him in confusion, her brows furrowed as she chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip.
“Josh…”
“Donna, please,” he had choked out, the desperation in his voice near enough breaking her heart. “I haven’t taken a vacation in nearly a decade, and I’m taking one now. And I’d really like you to come with me.”
“When?”
“Today. Tonight. Now, even.”
“Josh, I can’t —“
“Why not?”
And why not, indeed? Really, what was there to keep her there? They’d already won the election, and she knew all too well the logistics of the transition period — and she hadn’t particularly minded the thought of missing at least the first week of that chaos. And it’s not as if Helen hadn’t given her time to consider her job offer, so she wouldn’t have had to worry about that. So, why not?
Besides, seeing Josh like that, overloaded with tension and anxiety, had reminded her far too much of a night several years ago that had almost had a very different ending. And if Hawaii was what Josh needed right now, then Donna was more than willing to give him that.
“Okay,” she had agreed, biting back a nervous smile.
“Okay, you’ll go? To Hawaii?”
“Yeah,” she’d said with a watery laugh. “It’s about time you take me.”
And Josh had beamed at her, a wide grin that showed off his dimples and brought out the sparkle in his eyes — the kind of smile she hadn’t seen from him in nearly a year —, and simply told her to pack a bag and meet him at the airport in three hours.
They’d arrived in the middle of the night, Donna letting her head fall onto Josh’s shoulder in the cab to their hotel, her fingers laced with his as her eyes had fluttered closed. Had made it to their suite without having seen a single palm tree or volcano or hibiscus flower, not that any of that had mattered as she’d wordlessly followed Josh into the hotel, bleary eyed and stifling a yawn, her hand still in his.
Nor had it mattered as they had exchanged shy, tentative smiles before Josh had crossed the room in two strides and slanted his mouth over hers in a tender, yet searing kiss. As they had slowly undressed each other with trembling hands, as he had kissed with with a reverence that left her breathless, before kissing every inch of her body, and then some. As he’d fucked her slowly in the moonlight, his eyes never once leaving hers, his hands worshipping her breasts, her hips, her thighs, anywhere he could reach.
As he’d watched her fall apart with awe and wonder before falling apart himself, his body a comforting weight above her and his breaths warm and harsh in her ear.
It hadn't been long before Donna had fallen asleep, tangled up in Josh and dreaming of warm beaches and the Hawaii sun, and, even now, she isn’t entirely sure she isn’t still dreaming.
“Donna,” Josh murmurs, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her back. She can hear the smile in his voice.
Barely awake, she lets out a sleepy sigh as his touch becomes firmer, more deliberate. Rolls onto her back as she blinks her eyes open and meets his soft, tentative gaze.
“Sorry,” she says through a stifled yawn, one hand coming up to cover her mouth. “What did you say?”
Josh goes quiet, his hand stilling, and she can sense his hesitation, recognises the set of his shoulders, the slight tremble of his jaw.
He clears his throat, head angled down and cheeks pink.
“I just… All those years… All that time… I wanted it to be you. So badly.”
Donna presses her lips together, lets out a shaky breath as she blinks back tears.
“I wanted it to be you, too, Josh,” she whispers. “More than anything.”
“I’m just glad we made it.”
And she knows that he’s not just talking about being here, together, about the next six days they’ll spend tangled in bedsheets, drunk on the Hawaiian sun and each other, as they try to repair their broken relationship, as they work on learning to trust each other again, on moving past the last ten months and not letting it tear them apart.
He’s talking about a bullet that was meant for someone else; a shattered window at the end of a devastating three weeks that she’ll regret for the rest of her life; a roadside bomb on a trip that she should never have been on in the first place.
Then there’s the six months that Donna spent denying the PTSD that almost destroyed her, followed by another six months spent wishing she’d had the courage to ask Josh for the help she so desperately needed, to apologise for leaving him and admit how much she needed it.
But she hadn’t. And they’d spent a miserable year apart, and really, all they can do now is try to make up for lost time.
“C’mere,” Donna murmurs, wrapping her arms around Josh’s waist and pulling him against her, shuffling down the bed slightly until her cheek is pressed tightly against his chest.
“What —“
“Shh.”
She can feel his chuckle reverberate deep in his chest as he turns onto his side and holds her against him.
“What are you doing?” He whispers, one hand combing through her hair, the other splayed across her back.
She squeezes her eyes closed, lets herself be consumed by his warmth, his familiar scent, the reassuring thud of his heartbeat under her ear.
“Listening to your heartbeat,” she tells him softly, her thumb gently rubbing the spot below his scar.
Josh exhales shakily, his hand sliding down to her hip and squeezing. He leans down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head.
She doesn’t tell him that she used to do this all those years ago, after Rosslyn when he would wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweet and unable to catch his breath. When she would hold him in her arms and murmur soft words of encouragement until he fell asleep again. He doesn’t need to know that she didn’t leave straight away, that she would tuck herself into his side, her head on his chest and her arm thrown across his middle, failing to blink back tears as she let the steady thump of his heartbeat calm her own terror, until her breathing was in sync with his and she no longer felt like she was going to throw up.
Besides, with the amount of times she accidentally fell asleep beside him only to wake up hours later still in his arms, she has no doubts that he must have some memory of this, as checked out as he had been.
Donna can feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, can’t quite help the way her lips turn down at the sides. She swallows past the lump in her throat and pushes herself up on one arm to meet Josh’s gaze.
“I’m surprised no one’s tried to call you yet,” she teases with a shaky laugh.
Josh flashes her a dimpled grin and, not for the first time, does she wonder if he’s always looked at her this way and she’s simply missed it. (Has no idea how she could have possibly missed the tender affection in his eyes right now, the sweet smile on his face that she’s beginning to think is reserved just for her.)
“They probably have.”
Donna frowns, presses her lips together.
“What do you mean?”
“I left my Blackberry at home,” Josh admits with a shrug. “Well, technically it’s on my desk, but I don’t have it with me. And Sam’s the only person who knows where I am.”
“You left your blackberry… on your desk?” She repeats dumbly, all too aware of the look of utter disbelief etched onto her face.
He nods, somewhat self-consciously, a slight furrow to his brow.
“Donna… we’re in Hawaii.”
“Wow,” she breathes, turns to him with sparkling eyes and a bashful grin. “You must really love me.”
The words are out before she even realises what she’s saying, her eyes widening as she untangles herself from him and sits up. He looks slightly stunned, and she desperately wishes she could take it back. A spontaneous romantic vacation after eight years of pining is one thing, but this — well, she doesn’t want to scare him off, doesn’t want him to think they’re moving too fast, that she’s pushing him into something he’s not ready for.
But he simply shrugs, a nervous smile on his face as he reaches for her hands and tugs her towards him.
“Well, yeah.”
“Josh…”
“Donna…” He brings one hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, his thumb gently tracing her cheekbone, her jawline, the length of her neck. “I love you.”
The words echo in her mind, the soft reverence of his tone leaving her speechless, the certainty in his voice making her want to cry, her heart pounding in her chest as she looks down at him slack-jawed and totally in love.
“Can I ask you something?” She blurts out, and she doesn’t miss the disappointment in his eyes when she doesn’t say it back, or the way his smile falters, but she’s been in love with Josh forever and she doesn’t think she could survive getting her heart broken by him again.
He forces a smile, pushes himself up so he can sit against the headboard, self-consciously pulls the sheet over his bare chest. “Anything.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Wh—“
“Josh,” she interrupts, shakes her head with a wry grin, fingers twisting in the bedsheets as she avoids his gaze. “Yesterday, you didn’t have time to figure this out, and today we’re in Hawaii.”
He laughs, but it’s empty and humourless, and, when he finally speaks, his voice is choked with emotion.
“Yesterday I was on the verge of a mental breakdown.”
“Josh…”
Only, she has no idea what to say. Because he’s been on the verge of a mental breakdown for months when she thinks about it, and she can’t help but think that it would have never gotten this bad if she’d still been around to piece him back together at the end of each day.
“It’s fine,” he insists, as though he knows exactly what she’s thinking. And he probably does — once upon a time they knew each other better than anyone, and Donna’s beyond desperate to get back to that. “I’ve been under a lot of stress, with the campaign, and the election, then Leo dying, then all of this. It was just too much and I — well, I kinda lost it and I took it out on Otto.”
Donna lets out a shaky breath, smiling sadly as she shuffles up the bed.
There’s been an unexpected ease to this — to them — and she doesn’t think twice about throwing one leg over Josh’s thighs and settling on his lap, her knees bracketing his hips. She brings her hands up to frame his face, her forehead dropping to rest against his.
“I’m sorry I didn't realise you were hurting,” she whispers.
“Yeah,” Josh shrugs, his hands flexing where they rest on her hips, his voice catching in his throat. “Well, that’s not your job anymore.”
She shakes her head with a soft smile, presses a gentle kiss to his lips.
“It never was,” she murmurs, her hands sliding down to his chest. “But that’s what happens when you love someone.”
He smiles at this, his eyes fluttering closed at her touch, and Donna can’t help but think that they’re going to be okay, that it’s not too late to fix what she inadvertently broke when she left him last winter.
“Besides,” she leans back and grins down at him. “I’m your girlfriend now. I’m always gonna be worrying about you.”
“Girlfriend…” he echoes softly, his expression a mixture of awe and affection.
Donna bites her lip. “I mean… if that’s what you want.”
Josh wraps his arms around her and pulls her flush against his chest, Donna giggling as she falls against him, only for it to turn to a whimper as he bites down on her shoulder.
“Yeah,” he murmurs against her skin, his face pressing into the curve of her neck. “You’re what I want.”
And, while this is by far the first time Josh has left her speechless, it’s the first time he’s done so as she straddles him in bed, both of them half naked and still soft from sleep.
“Donna,” he begins quietly, his chin resting on her shoulder, his fingertips digging into her sides. “I have a lot to work through.” He clears his throat, sits back so he can meet her gaze with a sadness and longing in his eyes that makes her want to pull him into her arms and hide him away from the world that’s out to get him. “I thought I was okay, but I’m really not.”
“That’s okay,” Donna reassures him, voice firm but gentle. “It’s not been the easiest year, but we’ll figure it out. Besides, I haven’t been doing so great myself.”
Josh frowns at this, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows.
“How long…”
“Since Gaza,” she admits softly, smiles at the way his left hand drops to her thigh, his fingers splayed across the scars that she still can’t bring herself to look at for too long, that she still hasn’t quite accepted as a part of herself. “It took me a long time, and three different therapists, to accept that the way I was feeling wasn’t normal.”
“No,’ Josh breathes, his eyes glistening with tears. “Donna… what —“
“PTSD,” she interrupts quietly, her gaze dropping to his chest so he won’t notice the tears trying to spill out. She trails her hand along his chest, fingertips absentmindedly tracing the length of the scar for which she’ll be forever grateful. “Pretty minor, all things considered. The survivor guilt’s a bitch, though.”
“I didn’t know…”
“No one does.”
“You’ve been going through all this alone?” Josh asks softly, a gentle sadness to his voice that inexplicably pains her.
“I didn’t exactly make a lot of friends on either campaign,” she offers weakly, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as her chin quivers. And she doesn’t realise she’s crying until Josh is wiping her tears away with his thumbs, a sad smile on his face as he tucks her hair behind her ears.
“Sorry,” Donna mutters, slumping forward until she’s pressed against him, her head tucked into his neck and her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
Josh smoothes one hand up and down her back, the other gently tugging at the ends of her hair. She sighs contentedly, eyes drifting closed at his gentle, comforting motions.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he tells her, and she can hear the emotion in his voice, can feel the way his hands flex on her back, his shoulders trembling under her touch. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“Josh, no…” Donna pulls away, just enough that she can meet his gaze, her breath catching at the pain in his eyes and the tear tracks on his cheeks. She cups his face with her hands and presses her lips to his in a desperate kiss, only pulling away when the need to breathe becomes too much. “Don’t say that.”
“Donna, it’s true.”
“And it’s true that I wasn’t there for you, either,” she points out with an arch of her brow, knows she’s made her point when Josh sits up as much as he can, ready to splutter out half-formed excuses and defences that she knows she doesn’t deserve. “We could argue about this all day,” Donna says with a wry smile. “But, right now, I’m in Hawaii with the man that I love, and I can think of a million other things that I’d rather be doing.”
Josh looks like he has more to say, like he’s not going to let her off the hook that easily, but then she pulls her t-shirt over her head and all he can do is stare up at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, and she would laugh at the dumbstruck look on his face if it weren’t following such a serious conversation.
It’s been a long time since Donna’s been with someone. After Gaza, she had been too emotional, too vulnerable to even attempt dating, then she left the White House and joined the Russell Campaign and hadn’t been in the same city long enough to meet anyone. It had almost been enough to dull her insecurities, to make her forget about the scars on her chest, one right in the centre, the other below her ribs, the scars intersecting her thighs, a few that run all the way down to her knee.
And she’s spent far too long standing in front of the mirror hating the scars marring her once flawless skin, mourning the bikinis she never had time to wear, her favourite dress with the slit up the thigh that Josh never got to see, wishing this had happened to anyone but her. Please, God, anyone but her —
But when Josh is looking up at her like this, when he flips her onto her back with a laugh and buries his face in her chest, his nose brushing against her skin as he presses tender, reverent kisses along the length of her scar, it gets that much easier to see herself the way he sees her, to appreciate her scars for what they are — reminders that she survived, that she went through Hell and came out on the other side.
It’s all too easy to feel that way about Josh’s scars, after all, so why can’t she feel that way about her own?
“Josh,” Donna breathes, tugging on his hair.
He tilts his head as he looks up at her, lips quirked up at the sides. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I just…” she trails of with a watery laugh, embarrassed, almost, as she finds herself blinking back tears.
“Donna…”
“You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Okay.” She chews on her lower lip, her hands sliding from his hair to his cheeks, smiles at the way he leans into her touch. “Just wanted to make sure.”
Josh pushes himself up onto his elbows, one leg sliding between hers as he hovers over her, the expression on his face so warm, so tender that it takes her breath away. Yet, it’s also one she’s seen a thousand times before and, really, what is she supposed to do with that? It’s almost too much for her to fathom, so she hooks her legs around his hips and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.
Josh smiles into the kiss, his lips brushing against hers as he murmurs, “You have no idea how much I love you.”
And he’s right, she doesn’t, but as he kisses her once again, his tongue sliding into her mouth this time, his hips pressing against hers, his hands firm and loving as they explore her body, she thinks she might be starting to get an idea of it.
“So show me,” she pleads breathlessly, hips shifting impatiently against his.
Josh laughs softly, a deep chuckle that rumbles deep in his chest, before kissing his way down her body, hot open-mouthed kisses that leave her breathless and tingling and desperate for more. He cups her breast with one hand, forefinger and thumb tugging at her nipple the way he’s already learnt she likes, as he sucks a mark into her hip.
And Donna can’t help the moan that escapes, loud and guttural as she writhes beneath him, body already thrumming with the anticipation of what’s coming next.
Except, what comes next is Josh’s head resting on her thigh, his fingers ghosting along the lines of her scars, his eyes dark and hooded as he scrutinises every last one.
“Josh,” she mutters self-consciously, one hand coming up to cover her thigh, the other reaching out to push at his shoulder. But Josh laces his fingers through hers, gently pulling her hand away before leaning in to trace his tongue along the length of her scars, and she doesn’t know if she wants to cry or beg him to fuck her.
Before she can come to a decision, he’s mouthing her through the material of her panties, his hands tugging at the waistband to slide them down her thighs, and she loses all train of thought. Can’t focus on anything but Josh.
Josh’s face pressed against her centre, his tongue licking at her with a desperation she understands all too well, his fingers, already slick with her juices, trailing along her inner thigh. Josh groaning when she digs her nails into his shoulder, the pain seemingly spurring him on, Josh sliding one finger inside her, then another, his fingers curling inside her as his tongue swirls around her clit. Then he’s sucking her clit into his mouth, nipping and lapping at it with such fervour that she can hardly catch her breath, her eyes squeezed shut as she chokes out his name, her hips stuttering wildly against his face as she chases her release.
All she can do at this point is moan loudly, both hands holding his head in place now as his fingers press more firmly inside her, her trembling thighs tightly bracketing his head, the heel of her foot digging into her back.
And then it’s — Josh, Josh, Josh — everything Josh, his name a desperate murmur spilling from her lips as she falls apart under his touch.
It takes a moment for her to come down, her chest heaving as she catches her breath, her bangs plastered to her sweaty forehead, her entire body still thrumming with pleasure. And then there’s Josh, lying beside her propped up on one elbow, an unbearably smug look on his face, and Donna can’t even bring herself to chide him for it because he’s more than earned it this morning.
“You good?’ Josh asks, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear.
Donna nods, eyes fluttering closed as she releases a shaky exhale.
“Yeah. Just need a minute.”
He lowers his head to drop a gentle kiss to her shoulder, lets his lips linger for a moment before flopping onto his back.
“Okay,” Donna says, her arms like jelly as she pushes herself to sit up. “My turn,” she announces, planting her hands on Josh’s chest for balance as she throws her leg over his hips.
“Your turn to what?” He asks her, eyes sparkling with amusement, his hands automatically coming up to rest on her hips.
She just rolls her eyes before leaning down to kiss him.
“To show you how much I love you,” she murmurs against his lips.
Josh laughs softly, his hands tangling in her hair to hold her in place as he nips at her lower lip before deepening the kiss. “If you insist.”
And Donna does insist. Can’t help but think that she’ll show him how much she loves him everyday for the rest of their lives if that’s what he wants. But that’s a conversation for another time, so she just kisses him back, her nails scratching along his scar and down his stomach before she kisses her way down his body to take him in her mouth, her hand gripping the base of his cock as her tongue swirls around his tip.
And then it’s Josh who can’t catch his breath, Josh who’s crying out her name as his hands tangle in her hair and clutch at the bedsheets, as his back arches and his hips buck up off the bed.
Donna’s never particularly enjoyed going down on guys before, has never found the experience particularly empowering. But this, watching Josh lose control, watching him squirm and writhe above her, feeling his body tremble under her touch, his muscles twitching as she caresses his body, listening to his choked breaths, her name caught in his throat along with a loud, guttural moan — now, that’s something she could get used to.
.
Hawaii is beautiful. Beautiful and magical and so incredibly wonderful, or so Donna has heard. In the end, she doesn’t get to see much of the island beyond their hotel room and the stretch of beach just outside their hotel. In the end, she spends seven wonderful days with nothing but Josh, room service, and a conveniently spacious shower.
And when it’s over, when they’re boarding their plane to D.C with an air of sadness and dread, Josh slips his hand into hers, drops a kiss to the top of her head and asks her to move in with him.
Donna tucks herself into his side, kisses him softly on the lips, and says yes.