Rating: PG
Pairing: Josh/Donna
Spoilers: Two Gunmen, 17 People, huge ones for the Stargate SG-1 episode Meridian, also refers to Enigma, The Tok'ra and Message in a Bottle
Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine. Stargate SG-1 isn't mine either. Any further resemblance to people, places and events is entirely intentional, and all meant in good fun.
Archive: At my site The Band Gazebo (http://helsinkibaby.ahkay.net) Anywhere else please ask first.
Summary: Josh and Donna go to a Stargate Convention.
Author's Note: This is all Mel's fault. All of it. We were at an SG-1 con, in a two-hour queue on Sunday morning, having talked about the West Wing for much of the weekend, when suddenly she says, "I wonder what Josh would think if Donna dragged him to one of these." And since you should never say those kinds of things to me, I told her to shut up. Then she dared me to write it. You should never say that to me either. The only conditions that she laid down were that I had to include the lines, "I thought my luck was changing" and "Whatever stirs your coffee" (the latter courtesy of the delectable Michael Shanks in his Saturday talk, when talking about shippiness and slash pairings. Ah, Michael. Sigh.) I don't think there's a joke or cliché in the known fan universe that I haven't included, and if there is, it's not for the want of trying!

This has been quite a day.

Usually, I work on Saturdays. In point of fact, I work seven days a week. Actually, I really do work seven days a week, because when I’m not at the office, I’m usually working at home. Either that or I'm, you know, eating or sleeping, or doing the bare minimum of functions necessary to qualify as a member of the human race.

But I'm not working this Saturday.

Oh no.

I'd planned to. I had briefs to read, I had motions to review, I had insults for idiot Republicans to prepare. I was looking forward to that.

And then last night I found a note on my desk from Donna, reminding me that she wasn't going to be in today. My first thought was, naturally, I didn't give her the day off.

Then I remembered her saying something about how she had plans with friends of hers who were coming in from out of town. There was a gang of them travelling a long way she told me, and they were only staying for a day, so she'd really appreciate the day off, and I was in the middle of doing something so I may have mumbled something approaching my consent.

Which of course is just how Donna planned it because she'd know that I wouldn't listen to her very closely, wouldn't question her too much on just what her plans were.

She really is quite something.

Of course, when I found out that Donna wasn't coming in today, I did what I usually do when I'm in early and I can't annoy her.

I went to annoy Sam.

But for some reason, Sam wasn't in his office either, and I sat down to wait for him.

Can I just stress, no matter how much Donna thinks otherwise, that I did not plan this? I absolutely, unequivocally, most definitely did not plan this.

At least not at first.

But I overheard Sam and CJ talking as they walked through the bullpen - well, it's not my fault that there was hardly anybody in, or that their voices carried was it? So I couldn't help overhearing CJ wondering how Donna was enjoying her day, and Sam commenting that he saw a write-up about her thing in the newspaper, and that it sounded really interesting, and that he couldn't wait to hear all about it.

Donna had a thing this weekend?

Donnatella Moss, my Donnatella Moss had a thing and neglected to tell me about it?

This quite simply would not do.

Luckily however, she shared this information with Sam Seaborn. Who as well as being my best friend, is undoubtedly the worst secret keeper in the known world. Also possessor of one of the largest consciences in the world.

Pack the bags people, we're going on a guilt trip.

So I waited until he came into his office and he jumped when he saw me there. "Josh!" he said, and his voice did that high-pitched and nervous thing that it does when he's hiding something and trying to be blasé about it. "What are you doing here?"

I stretched oh-so-casually, and hoped it would put him at ease. It didn't. Which I soon realised is even better when it comes to guilting Sam. "I just came in to talk, you know, before we start the mornings work. Especially seeing that Donna isn't here today."

"Ah." Sam nodded and moved around to his side of the desk, straightening his files in a sure sign of nerves.

I fingered the arm of the chair, taking an inordinate amount of interest in the covering, and tried to be subtle in my questioning. "So, she tell you where she was going?" I looked up at him only at the end of that sentence, and was able to see the flash of understanding in his eyes.

"You heard me and CJ talking and you want to know where she is."

"I have no idea-"

He shook his head, interrupting me straight away. "Josh, Donna is a grown woman. She has a right to her private life, and if she wants you to know where she is, she'll tell you."

"C'mon Sam," I tried again. "Where's the harm in…"

"The harm is that Donna asked me not to." I knew the look on Sam's face, and knew when I was beaten.

So I left his office and focused on the clues that he had. Which involved scouring the White House for a copy of today's Washington Post and taking it back to my office. It was when I did that, when I was on my way back that the biggest clue of all dropped into my hand.

I was at Donna's desk. I could say that there's nothing wrong with that, that I was just looking for a file, but no, I admit it. I was snooping.

Not that I had to snoop too hard mind you, although that would be nothing for a highly trained and educated mind such as mine. No, the clue was left right out in the open, where anyone could see it.

Well actually, it was under a stack of files, just peeking out at the edge, but anyone with a moderate level of vision could have seen it.

Really.

But there it was all the same, a little red piece of cardboard. With a stone circle on it, and the words "The Gateway." Then today's date and what was obviously the ticket number.

Hmmm…the plot did thicken.

I was in my office, going through the newspaper, when I came to what Sam must have been talking about. Because there, large as life, was an article all about this Gateway thing for which Donna has a ticket. Which I read, with my eyes steadily growing wider, and I realised that there must have been some mistake.

Donna couldn't possibly be going to this.

And even if she were, why would she leave her ticket here?

I was on my way back to Sam's office, second time being the charm and all that, when I overheard Ed and Larry talking as they walked through the halls. They didn't know that I was behind them. "Are you serious?" Ed - or is it Larry, I can never remember - asked Larry - or Ed - in a voice that sounded as if he was about to stop walking and kick himself at any moment. "She had a spare ticket?"

"Yep, looking for a good home. Her roommate couldn't go. She was shopping it around in here last night."

"And you didn't call me?"

"Them's the breaks."

"You think Donna's got her cell?" He sounded vaguely hopeful, but Larry, if it's Larry, shook his head.

"I'd say it's started by now."

"Maybe not."

The two of them continued walking, but I veered off in another direction. What they'd said had given me an idea. After all, I knew where Donna was. I knew that she'd probably have her cell.

And I had her spare ticket.

Shame to waste it, right?

And that, to cut a long story short, is how I ended up here. Sitting in the lobby of a Washington hotel, fur clad aliens, blue skinned aliens and people in army fatigues running around the place, with Donna Moss in my arms

This really has been quite a day.

>*<*>*<

This really has been quite a day.

It was going to be such a nice day, spending time with friends I haven't seen in ages, spending time with interesting men, and the party to end all parties to finish up the day. I was going to forget all about Donna Moss, Assistant to the White House Deputy Chief of Staff, forget about work and politics and people who want to tear a good man down, and just be me for a day, just be Donna.

Is that too much to ask?

And it all started off so well too.

I met the gang, as planned. Mel and her husband Chris stayed here last night, Beth, Margaret and Becky drove up early this morning, and we all met for breakfast. We spent hours talking all about our lives, and the show, and generally having a good time. And then we got into the queue for the hall.

The hall opens at nine o'clock for the opening ceremony to start at half past nine. So of course, we start queuing at seven.

Hey, I work in the White House, I can get by on very little sleep.

Which is a good thing today.

Let me explain to you just what I'm doing here today. This is the Inaugural Gateway Convention; a one-day science fiction convention devoted to the television show Stargate SG-1.

To the uninitiated, the one with McGyver in it.

I'm meeting up with friends from college, some that I've made online and we're all staying for the whole day. Other cons we've been to have run for two, but this being the first one that's been run in Washington by this particular group, it's only running for one. And there's a good line up of stars at this one too which make it well worth going to - Gary Jones, Amanda Tapping, and Michael Shanks.

Of course, Michael Shanks is worth the price of a ticket all on his own.

Ah, Michael. Sigh.

I'm getting off the point.

So, we're sitting in the queue, and there's about fifty people in line ahead of us, wouldn't you know it, and there's about three hundred more behind us, when all of a sudden, the theme tune from Stargate rises over the buzz of chatter.

Of the three hundred and fifty or so people there, I estimate that two hundred and fifty of them lunged for their cells.

But not me. Because there would be no-one ringing me at this hour of the morning that I would possibly want to talk to. I refused to look, to answer, on general principle.

But of course, Mel didn't have the courage of my convictions and she leaned over and said, "I think it's you Donna."

Which of course meant that I had to check. "And I thought my luck was changing," I grumbled, knowing who it was going to be. And sure enough, the name on the display didn't surprise me in the least. "Hello Joshua," I said into the phone and I knew that my irritation was showing in my voice.

I didn't tell him where I was going this weekend. I didn't tell him for a perfectly valid reason. Do you know how much grief I would have taken if I told him that I was going to a sci-fi convention? He would have sucked all the fun out of it, and I wouldn't have been looking forward to it nearly as much as I have been.

"Good morning Donnatella," he all but sang. "And how are you this fine morning?"

"If you're thinking of asking me to come in, I'm not doing it," I told him, establishing parameters right from the get-go.

"That's fine Donna."

"It is?" That's when I should have known something was up. That was way too easy.

"Sure. I know you're busy at your Gateway thing."

He stopped after that, as if waiting for me to say something. I merely closed my eyes, knowing what was coming next. "Sam caved didn't he?"

"Actually, I overheard Larry and Ed talking about it. Sam was most insistent about keeping your privacy."

"Are you going to make your bigoted little fangirl jokes now?" I was aware of my friends eyeing me with interest, hanging on every word.

"No. Just wondering what goes on at one of these."

"Well, at the moment, we're queuing for the hall."

"Big queue?"

"Probably almost four hundred people. We're only about fifty down though."

"Oh. OK. Well, I'll let you get back to it."

And he hung up.

By this stage, alarm bells were ringing in my head. They were ringing so hard I thought someone had set off the fire alarm as a joke, even as I was remembering that it was far too early in the con for that. There was something off about that whole conversation, but I didn't realise what it was until I looked up, and there, standing before me like an apparition, was my boss, Joshua Lyman.

I jumped to my feet, ensuring that everyone in the row was looking at me. "What are you doing here?" I sputtered, even as he smiled at me and put his hands in his pockets, all but bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

"I found out where you were. Saw the spare ticket on your desk. Thought it would be a shame to waste it."

Which of course, is what I'd thought, hence why I brought it in to work in the first place. I couldn't believe that I'd been stupid enough to leave it on my desk. I'm not usually that stupid. So I parried with, "You went through my desk?"

He looked like he was going to say something, but then he looked at me. And got this really amazed expression on his face. "Donna, what the hell are you wearing?"

That's when I looked down at the T-shirt I had on, Mel's proud handiwork, and I could see it through Josh's eyes, almost feel his confusion over the picture of the balding bespectacled man in a short sleeved Air Force shirt. "It's a T-shirt," I told him, in my best as-you-already-know voice.

Not content with that, he decided to read the writing on it out loud. "Chevron Guy - Who needs a DHD when you've got a Walter?" His face was questioning when he looked at me again. "You like this guy?"

That sceptical look on his face was all it took to banish any and all embarrassment I may have had. I shrugged in my best offhanded manner, telling him, "Hey, it's whatever stirs your coffee Josh."

And he smiled. That smug self-satisfied smirk that either sends me weak at the knees or makes me want to hit him. You can guess what it did this time. "Well, if my assistant ever brought me coffee…"

I did my best to ignore the guffaw of laughter, hastily stifled from Mel. "Oh shut up," I said, not sure to whom I was speaking. Then to Josh, "You're really going to do this? Really going to stay?"

He was already sitting down on the floor beside the rest of the gang. "I've registered. I've got this cool little badge thing. Might as well make use of it."

I slithered down the wall, resisting the urge to bang my head against it with some difficulty. "This was going to be such a nice day," I said, more to myself than anyone else.

Little did I know.

>*<*>*<

There are some very strange people at this thing.

Aside from the fact that even as I speak, people are wandering around in full alien make-up. I mean, that I could have excused for the fancy dress aspect of the day. However, some of them have been walking around all day like this. And while some of the costumes are furry and materially and warm looking, some of them aren't what you'd call serviceable. Barely there might be a better description.

Besides, I've never seen people who like queuing so much. They queued for the hall from seven o'clock this morning. They've queued to have their photographs taken with the stars. They've queued for autographs. They've queued for the microphones in the guest talks. And let's not even talk about the queue for the ladies room.

OK, so that last one was Donna's, but you get my point.

But in spite of all the things here that I don't fully understand, and they are legion, I'm actually having a good time. I can't remember the last time I saw Donna this relaxed, and I'm beginning to realise that I've never actually spent time with her outside of work that hasn't involved some conversation about the White House, or been based on some work related activity. Or, you know, me recovering from a near-fatal shooting.

For instance, I never would have guessed that Donnatella Moss, my Donnatella Moss, would have stood up to the microphone and asked that Chevron Guy if he wore boxers or briefs.

Or that she could wolf-whistle like she did when this other guy came out, although I have to say, I didn't recognise him. From his program photo I know he's the one with glasses in the show, although he sure doesn't look much like himself there. Not that that seems to matter to the ladies in my company though, because every single one of them whipped out these little buckets - yes, little teeny tiny buckets, which they hung around their necks - with his picture on them. They called them drool buckets.

Drool buckets? Donna?

But one of the biggest surprises came when the event organiser guy announced that he had a special surprise for everyone. Some episode of the show, which apparently hasn't aired on whatever channel they show it on yet, which is a pivotal episode for the series arc. (And yes, those are his words. What the hell do I know from a series arc?)

The reaction astonished me. There were gasps, there was applause, and some people even looked near to tears, Donna amongst them. I was just baffled. "Is this good?" I whispered, or, I thought I did. Several heads turning towards us soon disabused me of that notion, and Donna gave me a look that was frankly far too reminiscent of Margaret for comfort.

"It's Meridian," she told me, looking past me to Mel.

"Has to be," Mel agreed.

"This is good?" I asked again, because they were off in their own little world, and Donna gave me that same look again.

"Yes it is. Now shut up," she hissed, fixing her eyes on the screen in front of us. The only thing that made her move her head was when Mel passed over one of those little packets of tissues that some women carry in their purses. I looked down the line, and realised that every woman in our group now had one of those little packets, and they all had them open, the first tissue already out. I caught Chris's eye, and he just shook his head at me, and I took the hint and didn't ask any more questions.

I'm betting, and it's a pretty safe bet, that I'm the only one in the room who had never seen an episode of Stargate SG-1 before, although thanks to the article in the Post this morning, I had a fair idea of who is who and what the premise of the show is. Although I've got to say the idea of stepping through a big ring of rock and ending up on another planet didn't seem like a grabber to me. I knew that it's some kind of military show - after all, that Chevron Guy wears an Air Force uniform. And, hey I knew that McGyver was in it, which is something right? Him, and that blonde chick that's here, along with the young guy with glasses, who is also here, sans glasses, and this huge black guy with a gold circle superglued to his forehead. (And that's got to hurt right?)

It was also pretty clear to me that the show was an ensemble deal, which is why the first shot surprised the heck out of me. It was Glasses, walking through the halls of the base, his arms held high, not wanting anyone to touch him. Blondie was walking behind him, and some bald guy who looked vaguely like McGyver's boss asked her about what had happened. She spouted some technical mumbo-jumbo at him, a lot of which went right over my head. But I did understand the phrases, uttered by Blondie, "It's a lethal dose Sir."

Donna and Mel promptly burst into tears.

And it only got worse from there throughout the show, because it became obvious to even me that Glasses wasn't going to get better this time. Oh, I knew that it was only a television show, that no-one's ever really dead in sci-fi (or is that daytime soaps, I've never really been sure?) but this looked bad.

And when people started saying their goodbyes to him, especially the big bald black guy, when you could see his chin quivering as he tried to be stoic, when McGyver admitted in a very Toby-ish fashion that he admired Glasses, I could see Donna biting her lip, trying to keep her sobs held in.

She rallied momentarily, her and Mel both, when McGyver shouted at the head alien guy, "My government will admit Daniel is guilty over. My. Dead. Body." I was reminding myself that Daniel was Glasses' real name, even as Mel and Donna, in perfect unison, shouted out, "You go Jack!"

But it was when Blondie was saying her goodbye that it happened.

Tears had been streaming from Donna's eyes throughout the episode, but this was something else. "I see what really matters," Blondie told Glasses - Daniel, not Glasses, Daniel, I really must remember that. "I don't know why we wait to tell people how we really feel," Blondie continued. "I guess I hoped that you always knew."

And that's when it happened.

That was the moment that Donna's tears, which had been quiet, turned into the noisiest sobs that I've ever heard from her. She dropped her head into her hands, and I lost all interest in the episode as I looked at her, really worried now, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

And I didn't have a clue what I should do, or why a television program was doing this to her, but I ended up doing the only thing I could think of to do.

I wrapped an arm around her and let her cry on my shoulder, and that's how we watched the rest of the episode.

I wanted to talk to her about it, to find out what had been wrong, but there didn't seem to be a good time. We all went for autographs, and then dinner, and then Mel and Donna and the others all disappeared to get ready for the fancy dress. I asked Donna what she was going to be wearing, but she wouldn't tell me. I asked Chris if he knew, and he got this funny smirk on his face, but he wouldn't tell me either.

We talked and he filled me in on everything that I ever wanted to know about Stargate SG-1 but was afraid to ask, and then it was time for the judging. Some of those costumes blew me away. The effort and the time it took to make them up…and some of the kids' entries were especially sweet.

Yes. I, Joshua Lyman, just used the word sweet. But look at those two little identical blonde-haired twin girls that are dressed up as Noxes and tell me another word to use.

But all that went out of my head when I saw Donna.

They walked in as a group entry; all the women dressed up to the nines. Or, considering the lack of material on some of their costumes, the fives. And I'm thankful that the Chevron Guy, who was doing the announcing, told me who they all were, because otherwise, I wouldn't have known. "And now we have Donna, Mel, Becky, Margaret and Beth as Daniel's Girls - Sha're, Kira, Shyla, Hathor and Osiris."

I don't know who the hell Donna was supposed to be, any more than the others. But I was able to see that her hair was a mass of curls, darker than her usual pale blonde. I only notice that because it set off the dress, which was this long white thing, that clung to her like a second skin. She looked as if she was floating across the floor, and I swear that the world went into slow motion when I looked at her.

When they did their little walk around and went back out the door, that was when I took a long swallow of my drink, and found Chris staring at me with this funny little look on his face. I'd seen it before, from Sam actually, also from Joey Lucas when she did the polling after the Third State of the Union. And I asked him what it was about, but he wouldn't tell me.

When the judging was over - and how the girls didn't win I'll never know; I think there must have been a French judge on the panel - they all came back in, Donna carrying her hair in her hand. The others all had taken off their wigs and some of the larger accessories, and Chris got the job of taking them back to his and Mel's room. There weren't chairs enough for all of us, so people ended up sharing chairs, because they'd announced that they were going to show fan-produced music videos. But there weren't chairs enough for Donna, and that's how she ended up sitting on the floor in front of me, her back pressed up against my thigh.

I tell you now; you haven't lived until you've sat through one of those productions. People singing along with the songs, shouting out some of the dialogue from the show. "There really are barbarians! And they really are at the gate! THAT ONE!" was a particular favourite, along with the seemingly requisite pointing on the final "THAT ONE!" Mel nearly took my eye out. I never knew that Donna could "Yee-HAW!" that well either.

Then came the video that began with a black screen telling us that "This video contains scenes from Meridian". It was set to that Titanic girl's song, and while I know nothing about the show, I will admit that it was a moving piece of video. It had all the high points of the episode in it, including Blondie's farewell to Glasses, and when that came up, my hands, moving of their own accord, settled themselves on Donna's shoulders. I don't know what I was expecting her to do, but she reached up, putting her hands over mine, and tilted her head back so that it was resting against my leg.

And that's almost where we started off this whole story.

Except for the dancing.

Did I mention that there was dancing?

Now, don't get me wrong, I can dance.

But this? This is something else. The Timewarp is one thing. YMCA sure. I even expected to hear Star Trekkin' although seeing it with the choreographed movements is … different.

But Hawaii 5-0, paddling a canoe while sitting in your chair?

Chair-surfing to Surfin' USA?

And please don't make me relive what they did to Bohemian Rhapsody.

I mean it, please.

And there, out in the middle of the floor, not missing a step, like she'd been doing it all her life, was Donna. Laughing. Smiling. Dancing.

She had never looked more beautiful to me. And it's not just the dress. It's her.

She took pity on me when she realised that I hadn't danced all night, and dragged me out of the room to the lobby. Not that she had to drag too hard mind you.

We managed to find two chairs beside one another, robbing one from a two star general and an Egyptian slave, who was turning blue with cold. I went to the bar and came back with two beers, and Donna was still smiling as I made my way back to her.

"You look like you're having a good time," I observed, making what was quite possibly, the understatement of the century.

"Oh Josh…" She shook her head in wonderment. "I love weekends like this."

"You do this often?"

"Not as often as I'd like…girl on a budget, remember?"

"Is this a hint for a raise?"

"Well, I thought I'd take advantage of your sensitive system…" Her voice trails off deliberately as she takes a sip of her beer, but I didn't rise to the bait.

Instead, I asked the question that had been annoying me all day. "Do episodes usually have that affect on you?"

Her cheeks were red, but that could have been the beer, or the dancing. She shrugged. "That's a special one," she told me, knowing which one I was talking about. "With Michael leaving… and him being here… it's pretty emotional. Five years of our lives Josh…that's a long time."

"Longer than you've been working for me."

"Yeah." She took another sip of her beer.

"Which is why you were so upset when his girlfriend said goodbye to him."

She looked up at me, surprised, her eyes narrowed in question. "Girlfriend? Josh, she wasn't his girlfriend."

That puzzled me. "But… what she said…about not telling people how they really feel, and how she hoped that he always knew… she was telling him that she loved him. Wasn't she?"

"Yes. Yes, she was." There was a smile on Donna's face that looked familiar to me, and it suddenly hit me where I'd seen it before. When we were crouched over some fallen files on my office floor and she told me the real story of what happened when she left the campaign, and why she came back. When I told her that if she was in an accident, I wouldn't stop for a beer, and she told me that if I were in an accident, she wouldn't stop for red lights.

"Sometimes," she continued, not looking at me, but displaying a great interest in peeling off the label on her bottle, "You don't realise just how much someone means to you until you think you're going to lose them. And all you can think of is the things that you wanted to say to them, the things that you think you're never going to get a chance to say to them…how much you'd give for just one more second with them. And all you can hope is that they knew all that stuff. That it wasn't said because it didn't need to be said."

CJ sometimes accuses me and Sam of being the Idiot Boys, of not being able to see what's right in front of us. And while I'd never tell her, sometimes, she's right. But this time, not even I could miss the fact that we weren't talking about Stargate anymore.

"Donna…" I managed, reaching my hand out, setting it on her knee.

She looked up then, her eyes bright with tears.

You know when I said before that she had never looked more beautiful than when she was on that dance floor?

I was wrong.

And that's what brings us to where we started the story.

>*<*>*<

This is unexpected.

Not the part where I'm spending Saturday night with a Joshua Lyman, and a beer bottle in my hand. Sad as it is to say, that's an all too familiar occurrence in our working relationship. Although I do have my own bottle of beer tonight, rather than swiping from his, so that's an improvement.

What's unexpected is that I've just spent the day at a science fiction convention, with Joshua Lyman. And while he's often been amused, bemused, or just plain mystified by what's been going on, he's thrown himself into the activities with nary a word, sarcastic comment or smart remark.

Which is enough of the unexpected you might think, but there's more.

When they showed Meridian I was thrilled, because I really wanted to see it. Well, I didn't really want to see it, because I knew the effect it was going to have on me. But I'd heard it was an amazing episode, and it's Daniel, so I wanted to see it. Kinda. Anyway, as I expected, I began crying from the start. I knew it was going to be sad, but I didn't expect it to be that sad.

But the part that really got to me, the part that put it over the top was when Sam was saying her goodbye to Daniel. She was sobbing, tears rolling down her face, and she told him how much he meant to her, about the effect that he'd had on people around him.

How he'd changed her too.

And how she always hoped he knew how she really felt about him.

And all of a sudden, I wasn't sitting in a Washington hotel, surrounded by people that I care about.

I was back in a waiting room in GW, filled with people that I work with, and I could hear Toby's voice, just as clear as if he was standing in front of me. "Donna, Josh was hit."

And when I was looking at Sam sitting beside Daniel's bed, I could see myself, sitting beside Josh's, praying that he would wake up.

Praying he would get better but so afraid that he wouldn't.

Thinking of how he's changed my life in so many ways.

And how I always hoped he knew how I really felt about him.

Understand please, that I knew I had a crush on Josh from the first moment I met him. Something about him saving me from Doctor Freeride, giving me a job when he had no reason to trust me, taking me back when he had even less…there's something very heroic about that. And I was savvy enough, or so I thought, to recognise that it was just a crush, that it would disappear.

It was only when I sank down into that chair, felt CJ's hand on my back, and later, when I stood looking down at him lying on the operating table that I realised that I was in love with him.

Later that week I sobbed down the phone to Mel, sharing my revelation with her. Her only response was to ask what the hell took me so long to work it out.

And she's been plaguing me all day to tell Josh how I feel, saying that he wouldn't have come down here if he didn't care about me as more than just a friend. I don't quite follow her logic on that one, but Mel's not taking no for an answer. She's told me that if I don't tell Josh how I feel, then she'll tell him. Or at least drop a hint.

I know Mel's idea of a hint. Not even Josh could miss it.

And considering that we're sitting here in the bar together as the party goes on around us, and I've all but told him what was going through my mind today, he'll have to be pretty clueless to miss those signals as well.

And it appears that he isn't that clueless after all, because he reaches out his hand and lays it on my knee. He says my name in this really choked voice, and I look up at him, and he's kinda blurry because I've got tears in my eyes, and I really wish that I had some of Mel's handy tissues right now.

Except I don’t because he reaches up and wipes my eyes for me, so so carefully, it's like I can barely feel him at all. "I knew," he tells me, and it takes a second for me to realise what he's responding too. "I think I always knew Donna."

His hand drops down to hold both of mine in both of his. And we just stay there like that for a second, looking at one another, as if we're trying to work out if we're really going to do this, and then we must decide at the same time that we really are going to, because we're both leaning towards each other, and our lips are just touching….

"Donna!"

We spring apart at the sound of Mel's voice, to see her turning around in a circle, obviously looking for me. When her gaze falls on us, she takes into account our proximity, our joined hands, and bites her lips guiltily. "Oops!" she says in a singsong voice.

Josh grimaces, shooting her a look that has had renegade Congressmen running for cover. I just shake my head and smile.

"This is just like Enigma" Mel tells me, referring to the episode where Daniel had interrupted Sam kissing Narim.

Except for I hadn't kissed Josh yet. "More like The Tok'ra," I point out, referring to the scene where Daniel interrupted Sam holding hands with Martouf.

"Ah." Mel nods, understanding the reference, while Josh just looks from her to me and goes, "Huh?"

"I'll leave you to it," Mel says after a second, and from the look on her face, I know I'm going to hear plenty about this later on.

When she's vanished, Josh looks at me. "Why don’t we get out of here?" he suggests, and I'm left in no doubt as to what's in his mind by the look in his eyes.

I shrug. "I have a room here."

His eyebrows raise into his hairline. "What happened to girl on a budget?"

He's standing as he speaks and I stand too. His arms slip around my waist while mine go around his neck. "When it comes to these things…I never want to leave."

"Oh really?" He's got that smug expression on his face, and I get the feeling he thinks I'm not talking about conventions anymore. Which I'm not really, but that's not the point.

"Undomesticated equines couldn't remove me," I murmur, intending to kiss him, but it's spoiled when he pulls back, a confused expression on his face, and I realise again that he didn't get the reference.

Since he's been playing catch-up all day, he figures that out almost instantly. "That's something else you're going to have to explain to me."

"We're so going to have an SG-1 Video Day," I promise him. "You've a lot of catching up to do."

"Hey," Josh tells me, leading me to the main part of the hotel. "We've got all the time in the world."

I slip my arm around his waist as we walk, past the poster in the lobby advertising today's event as a "Gateway to an Unknown World."

We can only hope.