ACT IV
FRIDAY MORNING
INT. GUEST ROOM, BARTLET HOME
It was Donna who was awakened by the sun the next morning, and it was Josh who'd asked her to close the blinds the night before. She rolled closer to him, pulling the quilt higher over both of their bodies. The room was cold, but she figured it would warm up nicely as the sun rose higher in the eastern sky.
Donna threw an arm over his chest as she snuggled closer against his warm body.
With his eyes still shut, Josh reached his right hand across his body, settling it on top of her head. "Morning."
"Good morning," she said.
He rubbed her head with short comforting strokes almost sending her back to sleep.
"It's cold," Josh said in his low morning voice.
"It is." She threw her right leg over his and hoisted herself further onto his chest.
He wrapped her in his arms as if she were a caterpillar resting in its cocoon. "Sleep well?"
"Really well," Donna replied. "You?"
"Yeah." He rubbed small circles on her back.
It didn't matter that they'd been together for a full year; being this close to Josh still had that dizzying effect on her. There were mornings when she woke up and had to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming. And after the hell they went through over Colin Ayers' exhibit and Josh's strength and understanding about her need to see the photographs, there was no such thing as being too close to him.
Donna tucked her hand under his long-sleeved gray shirt and ran her fingernails up and down his side. She could tell by the way he shifted his hips that he was getting turned on by her simple touch. Flattening her hand against his warm skin, she rubbed his chest and his belly with a feather light touch.
"Are you trying to seduce me in the President's guest bedroom?"
She didn't have to look at his face to know he was grinning.
"No," she said in all seriousness. "I just like the way you feel."
Josh's hips bucked involuntarily.
She tugged at the hem of his shirt and pulled it far enough up to reveal his chest. Lowering her head, Donna began placing tiny kisses across his abdomen.
"Do I have to remind you that President Bartlet is two doors down?" Josh asked after a low moan.
"Nope."
"Donna," he pleaded, pulling away from her slightly. "We can't, you know, in here."
She pouted. "Why not?"
"We're at *the President's* house!"
"He's not the President any more." Donna shrugged. "He's a husband, father and grandfather."
"That's even worse," Josh replied.
She looked up at him. "How is that worse?"
Josh pulled his shirt back down, covering his torso completely. "It just is."
"I'm not suggesting we have sex," Donna said, propping herself up on her elbow and tossing her hair over her shoulder.
He smirked. "You could've fooled me."
"But I wouldn't mind kissing you a little more." She leaned down and captured his lips with hers.
He laughed against her mouth. "What's gotten into you?"
"I have no idea." She smiled.
Josh couldn't resist the woman next to him no matter how hard he tried. And seeing the sheer happiness on her face made him want her more. He deepened the kiss, causing Donna to moan.
"Is this so bad?" she asked between kisses.
"I never said it was bad." He trailed his fingertips down her arm.
"Yet you wanted me to stop." She moved one hand to his stubbled cheek and the other to the back of his head.
He turned on his side and threw a leg over both of hers. "A terrible mistake on my part."
Donna giggled. "Was it?"
"Have I ever been able to resist you?" He sucked on the spot where her neck and chest met.
She threw her head back, giving him full access. "Not that I recall."
"Why would this time be any different?" He took a tiny bit of skin between his teeth, then released it, licking and sucking the same spot.
"Fair point." Donna rolled over, forcing Josh flat on his back. Without breaking their kiss, she straddled him and began once againrolling his shirt up his body.
They made out for close to an hour, keeping their clothes partially on. Donna's fascination with her boyfriend's chest never subsided, so she decided to remove his shirt entirely. Not to be outdone, Josh unbuttoned Donna's pajama top, revealing her perky breasts while keeping the top on. It was the first time Donna could remember when they'd been this intimate yet didn't have sex. She felt like a giddy and somewhat innocent schoolgirl.
It wasn't until the smell of breakfast permeated the air when they finally stopped kissing and touching.
"Something smells good," Josh said as he held Donna close to his chest.
"We should probably make our way down." She lightly rubbed the red marks she'd created with her mouth on his left nipple.
"You wanna shower first?"
Donna nodded, then sat up. "I'll meet you downstairs."
He kissed her one last time before bounding out of bed. "Don't take too long."
"Promise."
CUT TO:
INT. SANTOS RESIDENCE
President Santos rolled over in bed. "I can't remember the last time I slept past 8 o'clock."
"It's been at least two years." His wife hooked an arm around his waist.
"I like it."
She grinned against his chest. "Me, too."
The President's body man knocked on the bedroom door.
"I knew it was too good to be true,"
"It's Andy, sir. You have a phone call."
The President sat up with a grunt. "Come in."
"It's Josh." Andy handed him the phone.
"You woke me from my slumber, Josh. This had better be good."
"It's 8:30 in the morning, sir!"
"On the day after Thanksgiving," the President replied. "I think the tryptophan really kicked in after about my fifth piece of turkey."
Helen kissed him on the cheek, then got out of bed.
"Did Lou tell you about Mary Marsh?" Josh asked.
He nodded. "Yeah. That's something, isn't it?"
"I knew there was a reason she hadn't come out against the sex scandal," Josh said. "The question is, what do we want to do with this information?"
"You're asking if we should exploit her?"
"That's exactly what I'm asking."
The President crawled out of bed with the phone pressed to his ear. "I think the public has a right to know that this seemingly righteous Christian is backing a racist organization."
"I could have Lester leak it to a reporter," Josh offered.
"You think that's our best course of action?"
"It's either that or we make a public statement."
"I'll give him a call right away, sir."
"But if *we*know about Mary Marsh's financial contribution to
"It's a possibility," Josh responded.
"Wait a couple hours before giving this to Lester,"
"Yes, sir."
"I did." Josh paused for a beat. "I might have some news for you when I get back."
"This wouldn't have anything to do with Donna, now would it?" He grinned.
Over the past year, the President and Josh had had a handful of conversations about Josh's personal life. There was no question in
"It might."
He chuckled. "I don't have to be in the same room with you to know you're smiling, Josh."
"I am, sir." There was a short pause, and the President wondered if Josh was looking at Donna as they spoke. "She does that to me."
"Good."
"You, too, Mr. President."
CUT TO:
INT. BARTLET HOME
They'd all complained the night before that they were too stuffed to eat for days. The President's turkey was every bit as delicious as he'd claimed it would be, and Mrs. Bartlet's cranberry crisp was to die for. Josh'd had three helpings. However, when the President cooked banana fritters the next morning, no one could resist.
"How'd you sleep?" He flipped a fritter.
"Very well, thank you, sir." Josh rubbed his stomach. "It smells good in here."
"Banana fritters," the President said. "My other specialty."
Josh smirked. "You're pulling out all the stops."
Bartlet leaned over and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "You've gotta have your strength today for the ring shopping."
Josh's swallowed hard. "I thought you were just kidding about that?"
"I've already made a call." He placed a fritter onto a plate. "Ah, Donna. Perfect timing! Breakfast is served."
Donna took the plate. "Thank you, sir."
"Morning," Josh greeted her with a grin.
"Morning, Josh." She hesitated a second, then leaned over and kissed him on the side of the mouth.
Josh blushed.
Although the President knew they were a couple, they'd never done anything even remotely romantic in front of him. When he looked up at Bartlet, he had a wide grin on his face.
"You smell nice," Josh whispered.
"Must be the presidential soap," Donna commented.
"Good morning, everyone." Abbey walked in with the newspaper tucked under her arm.
Josh quickly stood at attention.
"Hi, ma'am."
She threw the paper on the counter. "Did you two sleep well?"
Josh nodded vigorously.
"We did, thank you, ma'am," Donna replied.
"This one is for you, my dear." Bartlet handed his wife a fritter.
"Thank you." Abbey sat down, then turned her attention to Josh. "My husband tells me that Mary Marsh is Ms. Moneybags."
"It sure looks that way," Josh said.
"So she's a major contributor to Kurt Rutland's organization?"
"Racist organization," the President added.
"Now we know why she hasn't commented on Congresswoman Dawes' alleged sex scandal," Josh stated.
"My guess is that Mary Marsh is going to remain silent about pretty much everything the Democratic Party does for the foreseeable future." Bartlet handed Josh a plate, then sat at the table with the others.
"It'll make my life a whole lot easier," Josh said, taking his first bite of the fritter. "Mmm. This is delicious."
"He makes a mean banana fritter," Abbey said, giving her husband's arm a squeeze.
"He certainly does." Donna smiled.
The President wiped his mouth with a napkin. "We have a tradition the day after Thanksgiving..."
"Here we go again." Abbey removed her hand from his arm.
He eyed her. "We have a tradition..."
"...the day after Thanksgiving," Abbey provided, rolling her hand in the air as if to say 'get on with it.'
Bartlet puffed out his chest. "We have a tradition the day after Thanksgiving where my family and I drive into town to tag our Christmas tree. Sometimes we'll hit up two or three farms before deciding on the perfect one. I have no intention of breaking tradition this year. Besides, I know all there is to know about Christmas trees." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Did you know that the tradition of the Christmas tree began more than 1,000 years ago in
They rolled their eyes.
"St. Boniface brought Christianity to the Germans," Bartlet continued. "And when he saw a group of pagans worshiping an oak tree, he cut the tree down and, lo and behold, a young fir tree sprung up from the roots of the oak. St. Boniface took this as a sign of the Christian faith, but it wasn't until the 16th century when Christmas trees were brought indoors to celebrate the holiday."
Abbey looked at Josh, who was squeezing Donna's leg under the table to keep from groaning at the President's inane trivia.
"That's very interesting, sir," Donna said with a cough.
He smiled proudly. "So who wants to join me in tagging a tree on this fine morning?"
They all ducked their heads.
"Josh! So good of you to volunteer." He had a gleam in his eye. "I have quite a day in store for you."
CUT TO:
INT. LOU'S TOWNHOUSE
"I dreamed that you'd all gone home last night." Lou stumbled into the living room and rubbed her forehead.
"No such luck," Sam replied from his spot on the sofa. "How many of those peppermint things did I drink?"
"Not half as many as I did." She made sure her pajama pants were tied.
Bram let out a loud snore in the armchair next to the fireplace.
Lou kicked him. "Hey! Stop snoring. It's time to get up."
"Huh?" Bram blinked and took in his surroundings. "Where am I?"
Lester adjusted the pillow under his head. "I might've had one too many last night."
Lou sniffed. "What's that smell?"
"Good morning, everyone!" Ainsley greeted from the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind, Lou, but I found some eggs and sausage in the fridge, so I thought I'd prepare a delectable breakfast since you so kindly cooked dinner for us last night."
Lou raised her eyebrows. "Go for it, Paula Dean."
"How is everyone feeling?" Ainsley asked.
The men grunted. Lou reached for her glasses on the side table, then kicked Sam's legs off the sofa so she could sit.
"Where's Otto?" Bram asked.
"Uh, he's..." Lou busied herself with cleaning her lenses with her pajama shirt sleeve.
"I'm here." Otto walked into the living room from the back of the house.
"Where'd you sleep?" Lester asked.
He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Spare bedroom. Why?"
Lester made eye contact with Bram and chuckled. "No reason."
"Where's my shirt?" Bram stood. "Whoa, standing wasn't the greatest idea."
"It's in here," Ainsley called.
"What's it doing in the kitchen?"
"I think that was the staging area for the karaoke," Sam said.
"You took it off before singing 'Macho Man,'" Otto added.
"I sang 'Macho Man?'"
"Not very well, but you get an A for effort." Ainsley giggled.
"Nothing could top your rendition of 'Dancing Queen," Sam said, looking at Ainsley.
She shrugged. "It's my signature song."
Bram plopped back down in the armchair. "Is it possible to die from a hangover?"
Lester rested his head in his hands. "No, but it damn well feels like it."
"Breakfast is ready!" Ainsley set out six plates. "I'm placing two Ibuprofen tablets on each plate. Take them with a full glass of water."
"Nurse, chef and the President's counsel," Lester said. "What more could a man ask for?"
Sam grinned. "If only she was a Democrat, then we'd be on to something."
CUT TO:
EXT. PAUL'S CHRISTMAS TREE FARM
"When you said we were going to tag a tree, I thought that was just for cover," Josh said, stepping out of the vehicle.
The two Secret Service agents surveyed the area. When one of them nodded at Bartlet, he and Josh proceeded into a thick row of trees.
"Nonsense, Josh. We're picking out a tree, then we'll head over to Allistair's shop."
Josh shoved his hands into his pockets and followed the President, who touched almost every tree, then sniffed the pine on his fingers. They were greeted by a short, stout man who looked like he could play the town Santa Claus if only he had a beard.
"Mr. President," the man greeted. "Welcome back."
"Good to see you, Paul." Bartlet shook his hand. "This is Josh Lyman."
"Pleasure to meet you." Josh shook his hand.
"How are Abbey and the girls?"
"They're doing well, but they left their old man in the cold on Thanksgiving." He folded his arms.
"I'm sure the Lab keeps you busy."
"He sure does." Bartlet turned to Josh. "Paul and his wife breed Labrador Retrievers. Maynard was the runt of the litter last year."
Josh raised his eyebrows. "Maynard's only a year old?"
"Eleven months, actually," Paul replied.
"He's huge!"
"And still growing," Paul said.
The President began walking again. "I'm looking for a taller tree this year, Paul."
"There are some 10-12 footers in the back. Let me know if you need anything."
"Will do."
Josh mimicked the President's actions by pulling on the branches of several trees and smelling the pungent pine scent.
"This smell reminds of when Abbey and I started getting serious." Bartlet stopped in front of an Eastern Red Cedar and took a big sniff. "She'd break off a piece of her family's Christmas tree every morning and carry it in her purse."
"Why?"
Bartlet laughed quietly. "She loves the smell of pine."
Josh leaned in and smelled the tree. "It's nice."
"I proposed to Abbey around the holidays." The President proceeded down the row of trees. "It'll be 46 years on December 12."
"Really?" Josh zipped his coat.
"I asked her to come to my house to help decorate the tree that night." He paused in front of a rather large Douglas Fir. "I'd put the ring on one of the branches right at eye-level. The fire was roaring in the fireplace, Christmas music was playing softly in the background and two mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows were sitting next to a box of ornaments."
Josh watched him attentively.
Bartlet shook the Douglas Fir, then walked around it once. "I was cool as a cucumber on the surface, but underneath, I was nervous as hell." He chuckled. "I remember my palms were sweating. I was worried I'd drop one of my great-grandmother's crystal ornaments."
"Did you?"
He shook his head. "No, but I came awfully close to dropping a mug of hot chocolate."
"How'd you propose?"
"I asked her if she approved of the tree as she stood in front of it, and when she saw the ring, she gasped. Her back was to me, so I got down on one knee. When she turned around with the ring in her hand, I asked her to be my wife." He smiled fondly at the memory.
"That's a great story, Mr. President," Josh said with all sincerity.
"It was a magical night." He took a step back and admired the tree from afar. "So, Josh, any idea how you might propose?"
"Uh..." Josh's eyebrows shot up. "I thought I'd take her to her favorite restaurant or something."
The President whipped around. "That is absolutely NOT what you should do."
"It's not?" Josh squeaked and shifted uncomfortably next to him.
"It's a cliché." He motioned for Paul to join them. "Is Donna the most important person in your life, Josh?"
"Yes," he answered without hesitation.
"And you want to spend the rest of your life with her?"
He smirked. "That's why I'm going to ask her to marry me, sir."
"Then put some thought into how you want to ask such an important question." Bartlet turned to Paul who was making his way toward them. "This one's a beauty, Paul. Let's tag her."
"Yes, sir."
The Secret Service agents led the President back to the SUV.
Josh stood in the middle of the trees for another moment and exhaled slowly. He'd gotten as far as knowing he needed a ring. How he was going to propose wasn't something he'd even remotely considered. As he started making his way back to the vehicle, his cell phone rang.
"Josh Lyman."
"Hey," came the familiar female voice on the other end.
"Donna," he answered as if he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. "Hey. We're...uh...picking out a Christmas tree."
"Is there a television nearby?"
Josh grinned. "Unless there's one hidden beneath one of these trees—"
"You need to find one as soon as possible," she interrupted. "Jared Westbrook is giving a statement."
CUT TO:
INT. LOU'S TOWNHOUSE
After breakfast, they'd all pitched in to clean up the remnants of a fun yet incredibly messy evening. Lou refused to count the number of empty bottles around the house, but she was confident it was around 20 of beer, vodka and peppermint schnapps combined.
Sam's cell phone was the first to ring.
"Turn on CNN," Donna said by way of a greeting.
"What's going on?" Sam asked, making his way to the television.
Lou's phone rang next, followed by Lester's, then Bram's.
"Jared Westbrook just retracted his accusations against Congresswoman Dawes," Donna said.
"Are you serious?" He turned on the TV and pumped up the volume.
The gang gathered around the flat screen with their mouths hanging open.
"I sincerely regret the pain I caused Congresswoman Dawes and her family," Westbrook said into the camera. "And I will do whatever is in my power to restore her good name. Thank you."
A cheer erupted in Lou's living room.
"Does Josh know about this?" Sam asked over the noise.
"I just got off the phone with him," Donna said. "You might want to call the President. Josh is...out of network right now."
"Will do. Thanks, Donna."
"Sure," she paused. "Hey, where are you?"
"Lou's house."
"Is she having a party?" Donna asked as the noise in the background continued.
"The party was yesterday. This is the clean-up."
"You went to Lou's Thanksgiving extravaganza?" Surprise registered in her voice.
"Not by choice," Sam began. "Bram and Otto sort of, well, they kidnapped me. But...I'm glad I came."
"I'm glad, too." She smiled. "Call the President."
"I'm on it."
CUT TO:
INT. PRESIDENT BARTLET'S SUV/
ALLISTAIR NEWTON JEWELRY
"Never doubt The Man, Josh," Bartlet said, turning off the news radio.
"I'm assuming you're 'The Man?'"
"Don't you forget it," he replied. "I knew Marianne didn't have it in her. It's a shame this kid felt the need to drag her name through the mud after the opportunity she gave him."
Josh nodded. "It is."
"You should've made a right on
"That'll be fine," the President answered.
They were silent for the next few minutes, then Bartlet turned his attention back to Josh.
"You know, I'd heard some of the chatter about the two of you in DC when we were in office," the President began. "But I never paid much attention to it."
Josh's eyebrows shot up.
"The only time I really cared was when Leo brought it to my attention."
He whipped his head around. "Leo mentioned me and Donna?"
"Only once," Bartlet replied. "It was after the explosion in
Josh grimaced.
"He'd briefed me on the circumstances, and I'd asked why you weren't in the meeting. That's when he told me you were on your way to
Josh lowered his head.
"Leo said you'd had a little outburst earlier that day," the President continued. "I wanted to know why the hell you were flying to
Josh glanced at the President, but remained silent.
"Leo put his hands on my desk, leaned forward and said in that serious tone of his, 'Mr. President, you can't reason with a man when the woman he loves is lying in a hospital bed an ocean away.'" He
paused. "I'll never forget the look in his eyes, Josh."
Josh looked away, trying to hide the emotion on his face.
"And that's the only time your relationship with Donna came up."
"He knew?" Josh's voice was laced with emotion.
Bartlet grinned. "I think he knew long before you did."
"Wow," he whispered reverently.
"He'd be so happy for you, son."
Josh smiled softly. "I hope so."
The SUV stopped in front of a small building with a blue and white awning.
"Now," Bartlet patted the younger man's knee. "Let's go see a man about a ring."
An old man in a tweed coat opened the door. "Good day, sir."
"Allistair," the President shook his hand. "It's been too long."
"Entirely too long, sir. Is this the young man you were telling me about?" he asked in a thick British accent.
"I'm Josh Lyman." He stepped forward and shook Allistair's hand.
"My, my Mr. Lyman. You haven't even seen the rings OR the price and already you've got sweaty palms." He and the President chuckled.
Josh swallowed hard. "This is my first time, you know, looking at rings."
"I can assure you, picking out the ring is the easy part." The man put his hand on Josh's shoulder. "When you get down on one knee; that's the difficult part."
Josh's stomach churned.
"Why don't you come in and have a look?" Allistair gestured toward the door.
Because the store wasn't open to the public, the shades were halfway drawn and there were only a few lamps on. There were several glass cases containing various types of jewelry, and a few high end vases and candles displayed along the walls. It was a classy looking store with just the right amount of homeliness.
"I don't have a wide selection of engagement rings, but what I lack in quantity, I make up for in quality." Allistair opened one of the cases and pulled out a velvet shelf lined with eight rings. He turned on a lamp to better show the diamonds' radiance.
"Allistair has won awards for his original designs," Bartlet stated. "In fact, I bought Abbey a platinum and emerald pendant that won the Craftsmanship Award a few years back."
"That piece was one of a kind," Allistair said. "I often make ten or more pieces from the same mold for my pendants, earrings and necklaces, but the one you purchased, sir, I never duplicated."
Bartlet nodded. "He's a master jeweler, Josh."
"I prefer to be thought of as an artist, sir." Allistair grinned. "But I shall take such a compliment from you any day."
"Why don't we take a look at a few of those original pieces, shall we?" Bartlet spun around and walked to another case. "I can get some Christmas shopping out of the way while Josh gawks at the rings and gets weak in the knees."
Allistair smiled as he took in Josh's expression. His mouth hung halfway open and it looked as if he was afraid to even touch the glass case much less a ring.
"I'll be right with you, Mr. President." Allistair turned back to Josh. "Each of these rings was handcrafted using only Hearts on Fire diamonds. Less than one percent of the world's rough diamond
crystals are pure enough to warrant this distinction." Allistair picked up a ring. The diamonds sparkled in the lamp light. "I've brought each diamond to life using 100 times magnification through all stages of production." He handed the ring to Josh, who wiped his sweaty palm on his pants before accepting it. "These rings are ten times the global standard for grading and evaluation. You'd be hard pressed to find a more flawless diamond on the entire East Coast."
Josh couldn't take his eyes off the ring. He tilted it into the light and was mesmerized by how brightly it shined.
"I'm going to leave you alone with this." Allistair pushed the tray toward Josh. "If you have any questions, feel free to ask." He walked toward the President.
"This is a gorgeous necklace, Allistair. Let's take a look," Bartlet said.
Now all alone on the other side of the store, Josh's eyes grew wide as he took in the selection of rings. He swallowed hard when he put the first one down and picked up the second. It felt heavy in his hands. He picked up a third and a fourth, but it wasn't until the fifth when it dawned on him: He was picking out a ring that Donna would wear for the rest of her life. A ring that meant she was connected to him body and soul.
Josh put the ring down and closed his eyes. He leaned over the glass case, hands grasping the silver edge and took a couple of steadying breaths. He wondered if they'd notice if he propped himself up against the wall and practiced the breathing technique
When he felt his heart rate return close to normal, Josh opened his eyes, stood upright, and pulled Donna's high school ring out of his pocket. For the first time, he noticed that her name was engraved on one side and a flute and a book were engraved on the other. He let out a soft laugh. It was so distinctly Donna.
Josh put the class ring back into his pocket, then focused on the tray in front of him. A ring in the back row caught his eye. It had a large round diamond in the center and was surrounded by smaller diamonds. Two rows of similar diamonds trailed down each side. He picked it up and admired it in the light. He'd never seen a diamond sparkle like this. It reminded him of that morning two days ago when
he'd watched the sun rise on Donna's body, and the smattering of freckles on her chest sparkled like glitter.
A slow smile spread across his face. This was it. He would be proud to present this ring to Donna when he asked her to spend the rest of her life with him.
"Find anything you like, Josh?" Bartlet asked as he stepped next to his former deputy.
"Yes, sir," Josh beamed. "Yes, sir. I have."
FADE TO BLACK