Rating: PG
Pairing: Toby/Donna
Spoilers: None
Feedback: Makes my day
Disclaimer: Anything recognisable, show or musical related, is not mine.
Archive: At my site The Band Gazebo (helsinkibaby.ahkay.net) Anywhere else please ask first.
Summary: Toby and Donna's first official date
Author's Note: All Sunny's fault! Again! This is the third in the series we have going, after my Whiskey Sours and Flowers and Sunny's Red Roses. After this, it's over to her!

"Where were you?"

Toby had been picking through the files on his desk, looking for the one he needed, but when he heard Josh's voice, laced with suspicion, he looked up. Josh was leaning against his doorframe, arms crossed, staring at him through narrowed eyes. He was evidently annoyed about something, and Toby had a good idea just what that something might be. Nonetheless, he affected innocence, looking down at the files and continuing to look through them until he found the one he wanted.

"It's Saturday morning Josh," he said simply, deliberately keeping his tone light. "I was at Temple." He chanced a quick glimpse up, only to see that Josh hadn't relaxed his stance one iota. He knew he shouldn't say anything, knew that he should leave well enough alone, but he couldn't resist yanking Josh's chain a little. "Why? Where did you think I was?"

He could feel the smirk hovering around the edges of his lips, and he knew that Josh wouldn't miss it. That knowledge was confirmed when he next glanced up at Josh, just in time to see him stand bolt upright, shrugging, the very picture of nonchalance. "Oh, nothing," he said, his voice almost normal, coming into the office and dropping down on to Toby's couch. "Just wondering."

Once again, the smart course of action would have been to engage Josh in discussion about any of the no doubt myriad issues that were on the table that day, but once again, Toby found himself unable to leave well enough alone. "I always go to temple on Saturday Josh, you know that," he pointed out logically. "Why would think that things would be any different today?"

Josh shifted in his seat, looking more uncomfortable by the second. "No reason," he said. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "I didn't know that you and Donna were a thing."

There was a vague sense of jealousy in Josh's voice, almost an air of propriety, and Toby found himself bristling, tapping his fingers against the files on his desk. "It's pretty new," he said quietly, not letting on to Josh just how new it was. Like the fact that they hadn't actually had an official first date yet. That their relationship, if that's what it was, consisted of two meetings at a local bar, and a number of rather heated kisses the previous night, not to mention a severe flower shortage in the surrounding area.

"You look pretty comfortable together."

That time, there was definite jealousy in Josh's voice, and with difficulty, Toby kept his own level. After all, Josh had well and truly had his chance with Donna. "We've been friends a long time," was all he said.

Josh shrugged, a smug smirk appearing on his face. "I always thought she was kind of scared of you," he said.

Toby knew that Josh was only trying to stir things. He knew that he didn't really mean anything malicious. At least, that was what he told himself to stop him throwing Josh through one of the windows. "Well," he said, sitting down, leaning back in his chair and fiddling with his tie absently. "There's a lot you don't know about Donna."

Now it was Josh's turn to bristle as Toby saw that the barb had hit a little closer to the bone than he'd intended. "So I'm finding out," Josh muttered, leaning forward on the couch.

When no further words were forthcoming, Toby waved a hand over the work on his desk. "Do you have any other questions about my intentions towards your assistant, or can I get back to work?"

Josh's brow furrowed in what looked like alarm. "You have intentions towards Donna?"

A smile spread across Toby's face, and he couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped his lips, the net effect of which was to make Josh look even more nervous. "Several," he said quietly, more to himself than to Josh. "But first, I have work to do."

"Oh. Sure." Josh was still more than a little rocked back on his heels, but he recovered enough to turn when he got to the door. "Hey, you think you could stop sending her flowers to the office? The place is starting to look like a damn florists."

Toby grinned once more, lifting an eyebrow. "I'll get right on that," he promised, looking back down at his papers.

"You're not going to though, are you?"

He looked up at Josh briefly. "No," was all he said.

Josh nodded, and walked out, leaving Toby to concentrate on his paperwork. However, he hadn't gone very far when there was a knock on his open door, and he looked up to see Sam standing there, a pleased grin on his face. There could only be one topic of conversation on his mind, and Toby bit back a groan. He didn't think he could handle interrogation from Sam as well. "Tell me this is about work?" he pleaded simply. Sam didn't say anything, just came into the room and closed the door behind him.

"You and Donna looked pretty friendly last night," was his opening salvo, and Toby threw down his pen, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes.

"Sam…" The word served a multitude of purposes - a plea not to pursue this any further, a wondering why so many people seemed to care about his relationship with Donna, an exhortation to get the hell out of his office. Sam however, perceived none of the subtleties therein and settled himself on the couch, throwing his feet up on the coffee table.

"I'm just saying," he said. "That the two of you looked pretty cosy."

"Do you have a problem with that?" His voice was more biting than it had been with Josh he knew, but he also knew that Sam wouldn't take offence at it. He was used to it after all.

"Far from it!" Sam held up both hands in an age-old gesture of defence. "I think it's great."

Toby blinked, taken back by his enthusiasm. "You do?"

"Sure! C'mon Toby, Donna's my friend, you're my friend, you guys have a lot in common, what's not to like?"

"The fact that I'm older than she is?" Toby began, sitting up in his chair and resting his elbows on the desk. "The fact that I'm Jewish and she's not? That I'm a White House Senior Staffer and she's an assistant?"

"Senior Assistant," Sam interjected.

"But still an assistant," Toby continued. "The fact that she's been half in love with Josh, if not more, since she began working for him? The fact that-"

It was a rare occasion that Sam interrupted Toby when he was talking, but he did so now. "First of all, she's not your assistant. And the age thing and the religion thing can be worked out. Josh is dating Amy now, and they seem happy together, you know, considering the fact that she's a-"

"Sam-"

He snapped back to himself, recovering his train of thought. "Most importantly, it wasn't Josh that Donna was with last night. And I can't remember the last time I saw Donna smile like she was doing last night. So, I repeat, what's not to be happy about?"

Sam's obvious confidence in what he was saying eased some of the tension in Toby's shoulders, and he took a deep breath. "Anything else Sam?"

"Funny you should mention it." Sam's feet hit the carpet with a dull thump as he righted himself on the couch. "I was talking to Donna earlier in the week, and she mentioned that she really wanted to see Miss Saigon. It's playing at the Kennedy Centre."

Toby nodded, recalling the advertising that he'd seen. "Yeah. It's impossible to get tickets." He should know, he'd tried.

"I have a pair."

Toby blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I have a pair of tickets," Sam repeated. "A friend of mine did me a favour…they're good seats. I was going to ask Ainsley if she wanted to go with me, but…"

"And you're offering those tickets-"

"To you and Donna," Sam nodded. "If you want them."

Toby considered it. "You really mean it?" Even to his own ears, he didn't sound enthused about the prospect, but Sam grinned again, nodding as he stood.

"They're yours if you want them." Was it the offer or the look on Toby's face that had him grinning, Toby wondered? "But think fast."

Toby lifted one eyebrow. "You're withdrawing the offer if I don't answer quickly enough?"

"No. They're for tonight."

Sam was just outside the door before Toby's voice stopped him. "Sam?" He turned back. "Leave the tickets."

Grinning, Sam reached into his shirt pocket and came back into the room, dropping an envelope on the desk.

>*<*>*<

He'd managed, with considerable effort, to stop himself going to Donna's desk that morning, staying at his desk and at least getting some of his work done. In point of fact, he'd done such a good job of staying away from her that she came looking for him. He wasn't sure who he'd expected when he heard the knock at his door that afternoon, unsure if Sam or Josh would come back for another round, or if they'd draft CJ to have yet another conversation with him. Looking up to see her standing there, a confident grin on her face, had been a nice surprise, nicer still when she continued into the office, sitting down in his visitor's chair, still with that smile on her face. "What did I tell you about the flowers?" had been her opening line, and he'd rubbed a hand over his mouth, hiding his grin.

"I couldn't resist," he told her with a shrug.

"You spoil me," she said, in a tone of voice which indicated that she didn't mind in the least being spoiled, and a smile which went with the tone.

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you're objecting, I can cancel our plans for the evening…"

She sat up straight. "You've made plans?"

"Well, I did say that I'd take you out for dinner, but I've changed my mind."

A frown creased her brow, and her lips fell noticeably. "You have?" She sounded very young and very insecure, and he grinned broadly at her.

"If you want." The envelope that Sam had left was lying on his desk and he lifted it now, passing it across the table to her.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she stood, reaching out for the envelope. Their fingers met for the briefest of seconds, and a tingle of electricity raced through him. She was still frowning in confusion when she pulled out the tickets, but the frown disappeared in a wave of delight when she realised what they were. Her smile could have lit up the greater DC area, and he would have bet that the squeal of delight she emitted had dogs all over the District converging on the White House. "Toby!"

He leaned back in his seat, trying not to look smug and, he knew, failing utterly. "If you still want to go for dinner, I'm sure I can give them away-"

She gave him a look, clasping the tickets to her chest protectively. "They're mine," she told him, and he smiled up at her.

"I thought we could get a late dinner afterwards," he suggested.

"Pick me up at seven?" she suggested.

"I'll see you then."

She was at his door when she turned, looking curiously at him. "I thought you hated musicals?" she asked.

He'd stood up as she was leaving and his fingers tapped a nervous rhythm on the desk. "I'm not crazy about them," he admitted quietly.

The frown was back again. "Then why-"

He had the answer before she was finished the question. "Because I am crazy about you."

"Oh." She blinked a couple of times in surprise. "OK then."

"So, seven?"

"Seven."

He watched her close the door behind her, then sat back down at his desk and smiled.

>*<*>*<

Donna had been correct about one thing, Toby reflected that night. By and large, he really wasn't crazy about musicals. Nor had his lack of enthusiasm when Sam had first brought up the matter of the tickets been an attempt to dissuade his deputy from interfering in his love life.

However, in light of the night's events, he was reconsidering his opinions. At the very least, he was going to owe Sam a huge thank you for this. If the look on Donna's face when he first showed her the tickets hadn't been enough to prove that to him, then her appearance when he picked her up at her apartment certainly had. As befitted an evening at the Kennedy Centre, he was wearing his best suit, having considered his tuxedo, but not wanting to appear too dressed up. Donna, on the other hand, had gone all out to impress, and impress she certainly had. The long black dress that she wore clung to her curves, leaving her back and arms bare, and her long blonde hair was spilling around her shoulders. There had been an uncertain smile on her face when she first opened the door, one that blossomed into a real and genuine smile, accompanied by delighted laughter when he presented her with a single yellow rose.

"In memory of how this started," he told her when he was afraid that she was going to object, and she'd just grinned, taking it off him and putting it in some water.

They'd talked in the car the whole way over, about everything and nothing, but she'd gone quiet when they got to the Kennedy Centre, and for that matter, so had he when they saw the seats Sam had given them. Toby had expected seats in the stalls, perhaps in the mezzanine level, but somehow, someway, they found themselves in one of the boxes, with a perfect view of the stage.

Donna had taken her seat, eyes huge as she turned to him. "These are great seats," she whispered, and he'd nodded, reminding himself to go easy on Sam for the next few weeks.

They'd talked quietly among themselves until the show started, and while Donna had been entranced from the first, losing herself in the love story between Kim and Chris, Toby had found his attention torn between the lavish spectacle unfolding itself on the stage and her reaction to it. When Chris began singing Why God Why, she leaned forward in her seat, arms wrapped around her middle, tears in her eyes. Only one managed to escape, right at the end of the song, and smiling to himself, Toby passed her a handkerchief, which she sheepishly accepted. As the show progressed, he found himself getting more and more drawn into the story, and by the end, he was as enthralled as she was, though not as emotional. She excused herself to go to the ladies' room so that she could fix her face, apologising profusely when she returned to him.

"Don't worry about it," he told her, placing a hand on the small of her back as he guided her to the exit. "Women often cry on dates with me. Usually, they wait until after I've left, but…"

She giggled at his joke, slapping his arm lightly. "Shut up," she said, but she was smiling when she said it.

"Despite the tears, I take it you enjoyed the show?"

"Oh…" She let out a dreamy sigh, her whole expression far away as she relived the story. "It was wonderful…"

"Sam tried to tell me something about it this afternoon." Although he'd run him out of the office, but he thought it best not to tell Donna that. "He kept going on about taking note of how they did the helicopter…"

"Wasn't it amazing?" was Donna's prompt response. "And the car…"

"Yeah, that was something…I thought the Engineer stole the show."

She shrugged. "I thought the kid was adorable."

By this time, they'd reached the exit, and the cool night air hit Toby, made him realise just what he was discussing. "If you tell anyone that we had this conversation…"

She giggled again. "Your secret's safe with me." He noticed that she shivered slightly, pulling her wrap tighter around her, and he stepped closer to her, sliding his arm around her waist.

"You ok?" he asked, concerned.

She turned her head to him, her lips curved up in a smile. "Never better." Wearing heels, she was exactly the same height as him, he realised, and on the heels of that realisation, he leaned forward, closing any distance between them, fitting his lips to hers. Her hands went to his shoulders as she stepped closer to him, pressing her body against his, and when they broke the kiss, he was suddenly very aware that they were still right in front of the Kennedy Centre. He knew that in all honesty, the White House Communications Director and the Assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff probably shouldn't be seen in such a compromising position, but he really couldn't find it in him to care. Not when Donna was smiling at him like that, that pleased bloom on her cheeks reminding him of the red roses that had decorated her desk that morning.

"We should get going," he told her, not caring when his voice sounded hoarse with emotion. "We'll miss our reservation."

"That'd be a shame," Donna murmured, her tone implying that it would be anything but.

Filing away the images that that evoked in his mind, he took her hand in his and walked her to his car, driving the short distance to the restaurant. He'd purposely picked somewhere out of the way, a place where he was reasonably sure that they wouldn't run into anyone that they knew. Of course, he realised on the drive over, trying to keep his eyes on the road and off Donna, the fact that he'd booked the place with that in mind probably meant that half of Congress would be there, and he was bracing himself for that possibility. Luck seemed to be with him however as they weren't interrupted once, and at their corner table, he was able to talk to Donna, and just enjoy her company, as the mellifluous sounds of a jazz quartet floated around them.

He hadn't known, or if he had, he'd forgotten, that the restaurant had a dance floor, and while they were waiting for dessert, he noticed that Donna was staring at the couples dancing, a wistful look on her face. "Would you like to dance?" he asked.

She looked at him sharply. "I thought you didn't dance," she questioned, no doubt having heard him say that on numerous occasions.

"I don't," he shrugged, standing up and taking her by the hand. "On the other hand, before tonight, I refused to go to musicals as well."

She grinned at him, letting him lead her out on to the middle of the floor, letting her forehead rest against his as they swayed to the music. She frowned slightly after a moment, turning her head to the bandstand, but then her face cleared, and she began to chuckle to herself. He didn't say anything, just lifted an eyebrow in question, and she tilted her head, still smiling. "Did you plan this?" When his face still registered only confusion, she inclined her head towards the musicians. "A song, played on a solo saxophone?" she asked, and it was only then that he realised that the rest of the quartet had taken a break, leaving the saxophonist to himself on stage. The lyric that she quoted brought an image from the stage to mind, and he grinned down at her.

"We seem to be doing much better than they did," he pointed out, recalling Kim and Chris's awkward turn around the dance floor.

Her hand on his back moved him closer to her and she let her head rest against his, her cheek to his ear, as she whispered, "We can only hope." Her words sent shivers down his spine, and with difficulty, he fought the urge to kiss her again.

He resisted that urge until they were standing outside her apartment, hand in hand. She tilted her head, a questioning look on her face. "Is this our first date?" she asked, and he must have looked as taken aback as he felt because she continued quickly. ""I'm just wondering…because I suppose that, technically, this could be considered our first date, but you said last night that only gomers expect to sleep with women on the first date…"

"And you want to break your habit of dating gomers," he nodded. A strand of hair blew across her face and he reached up to tuck it behind her ear.

"I know you're not a gomer," she told him quietly, moving her hands up so that they rested on his chest. "I know you're not like that." She paused, then took a deep breath, releasing the next words in a rush. "And I would very much like you to come up with me tonight."

His only reply was the tiniest of grins. "I'd very much like that too," he admitted.

Her eyes met his for a moment longer, then she closed her eyes, looking down with a rueful smile. "But you're not going to, are you?"

"Not tonight, no," he chuckled.

He was almost afraid that she would be annoyed, but she laughed, shaking her head. "I had a feeling you were going to say that," she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him quickly.

He narrowed his eyes. "You mean I'm becoming predictable already? Is this bad?"

"No…" she said slowly, drawing out the word. "It's nice."

"Just nice?"

"Very nice." The words were a purr as his lips met hers again, and this time when he pulled back, he purposely took a step away from her, otherwise he knew that resolve or no, he wouldn't be able to walk away from her. "You should go," she whispered, with her lower lip sticking out in a pout, yet with a devilish twinkle in her eye.

"Yes I should. After I walk you to your door."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Are you sure you won't come in once you're up there?"

"Yes," he told her firmly, placing a hand on the small of her back, guiding her up the steps to her building. Once there, he watched her open the door, enjoyed another long kiss goodnight before she stepped inside and the door closed between them. He stood there for another long moment, cursing his better instincts before the memory of how she felt dancing in his arms, how she'd smiled at him as she closed the door overcame him. It amazed him that she would look at him like that, even more so when he remembered that it had only been a week ago that he'd wandered into a local bar to see her there. Only a week since he'd sent her over that first drink, since on impulse, he'd given her a yellow rose on the street that night.

"How in one night, have we come so far," he murmured to himself, turning and walking away into the night.