Rating: PG
Pairing: Donna/Charlie
Spoilers: Nothing major, but everything to be safe
Feedback: Makes my day
Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.
Archive: At my site The Band Gazebo (helsinkibaby.ahkay.net) Anywhere else please ask first.
Summary: Donna and Charlie go on a date - part of the Ten Things challenge. More information, and more stories, can be found at the West Wing Uncon Yahoo Group.
Author's Note: Once more with the blaming of Sunny, and this one truly is all her fault!
The Ten Things challenge came from her; based on the assistants reading about the ten things you should never mention on a first date, and deciding to try it out on the members of the Senior Staff. For those keeping score, the topics are: diet, exes, money, sex, therapy, religion, health, politics, heartbreaks and marriage. The Farscape references come from starting this after a particularly screamworthy episode of the show, when I couldn't get it out of my head and was looking for something for Charlie and Donna to find common ground on.

Donna's gait slowed considerably as she made her way along the corridors towards Charlie's desk. Despite her earlier bravado, she was feeling more than a little trepidation about actually asking Charlie out on a date, and she was beginning to have second thoughts about the whole thing. Still though, she reminded herself, squaring her shoulders resolutely, a bet was a bet, and she'd told the rest of the Sisterhood that she would go through with this. Donnatella Louise Moss had never backed away from a challenge in her life, and she wasn't going to start now.

With that in mind, she began to stride a little more purposefully towards her destination, her steps slowing just a little when she realised that she had no idea what to say to him. Just how did one go about asking a co-worker, someone with whom they'd never had any romantic chemistry whatsoever, out on a date?

In that instant, sure that she couldn't go through with it, she turned to return to her office, jumping when she walked straight into the object of her quarry. "Hey Donna," Charlie greeted her, a ready smile on his face. "Just the lady I was looking for."

"I am? You were?" Donna was so flustered at actually seeing him there, having stewed over seeing him for the vast portion of the day, that she found herself completely tongue-tied and unable to form a coherent sentence, something that had Charlie looking at her strangely.

"You ok Donna?" he asked with a frown.

"I'm fine," she replied quickly, and her addled tone did nothing to relieve the look of concern and mingled bemusement on his face.

"You sure?"

He still didn't sound as if he believed her, so she forced a smile to her face and nodded. "I'm fine," she repeated. "Just that Josh is having one of his days, and, you know…" She waved her hand as she told him the lie, hoping her face wouldn't betray her. At the very least, the lie had the ring of truth about it - how many times had he heard her complaining about Josh and his moods?- so it should, she hoped, hold up, as long as Charlie didn't question her too closely. Resolving not to let him get a chance to do so, she continued with, "You said you were looking for me?"

"Yeah." Charlie's face broke into a conspiratorial grin suddenly. "The President's had some thoughts on 287," he said, leaning in closer to her, naming the project that Josh, and by extension Donna, had been working on for much of the last two weeks. "He made notes on the notes that Josh gave to him…"

Closing her eyes, Donna couldn't help the moan that escaped her. "Oh God…"

"He wants Josh to read the notes, and have a meeting with him."

Even with her eyes closed, Donna could hear the laughter simmering underneath the surface, and she knew why. Opening her eyes, she saw Charlie's shoulders shaking slightly, and she leaned back against the wall, a grin coming to her own face. "Is this going to be one of those meetings where Josh gets snowed under with inane trivia…"

"And doesn't get out of here until the early hours?" Charlie finished. "I'd count on it."

Donna shook her head. "Oh, for a video camera in the Oval Office," she murmured.

Charlie shrugged. "I'm sure we could get some of those old taping systems back online," he suggested, meeting her eyes before they both shook their heads, simultaneously saying, "Nah." "Still," Charlie added. "Should make up for whatever it is Josh has been doing lately."

Donna rolled her eyes, wanting to get him off the subject as soon as possible. "We can only hope," she said. "You've got those notes for me?"

"On my desk," Charlie replied, beginning to move in the direction of his office, only a few steps away. Donna fell into step beside him, and they reached their destination without any further conversation. Once there, Charlie began rifling through a stack of folders on his desk. "It's here somewhere," he muttered, but Donna wasn't paying any attention to him. Instead, her attention was focussed on a box that was on his desk.

"Charlie, what's this?" she asked, picking it up and turning it around, observing it from all angles.

He looked up, and when he saw what she was looking at, alarm spread across his face. "That's nothing Donna," he said, trying to take the box off her, but she was too quick for him, years of working with Josh Lyman having honed her reflexes, and she turned, reading the back of the box.

"Charlie, this is the last four episodes of season three of Farscape on DVD!" She couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice. "They're not supposed to be released here for months!"

"You watch Farscape?"

The sceptical tone of Charlie's voice had her looking at him, eyes wide. "I love that show," she exclaimed. "Where did you get these?"

Charlie shrugged. "On line," he said simply, as she perused the back of the box. "They've been released in Europe, and my DVD player is multi-region, so I ordered them. I lent that one to Ed, and he gave it back to me today. That's why it's-"

"An interview with David Kemper?" Donna didn't mean to interrupt him, but the listing of special features had caught her eye. "They talk to David Kemper?"

"It's a forty-five minute retrospective of season three - he talks you through every episode," Charlie explained, and Donna's jaw dropped.

"This is so cool," she murmured, Charlie going up several notches in her mental estimation. She'd been a Farscape fan ever since the first episode aired, but she'd never thought that she'd find a fellow addict working the White House, moreover, one who was enough of a fan to order DVDs from overseas. Sliding out the two DVDs from their box, she read the back of both, memories of the four episodes contained within coming back to her as she did so. "I love this one," she told Charlie, waving the second DVD in the air. "When they blow up the command carrier…the water shot?"

"Done with real water," Charlie confirmed with a nod. "The whole crew stood around and watched."

"Who wouldn't?" Donna asked. "And Crais and Talyn…I cried."

She would never in a million years have admitted that to Josh, but Charlie, being a fan, was different, and she was somewhat gratified when he looked around before admitting, "I may have shed a tear myself."

Putting the DVDs back in the box, Donna laid it back on the desk, giving him a rueful smile. "I'd better give that back to you before I steal it in preparation for the day that I actually have a DVD player," she said dryly, but Charlie just shrugged.

"If you want to see them, you should come over some night," he said, and it took a second for the words, and their meaning, to penetrate Donna's brain.

"Really?" She couldn't stop a beaming smile from spreading across her face.

"Sure," Charlie replied. "I've got all of season three…and there's some great special features you'd really enjoy. There's this interview with Anthony Simcoe where he talks about getting a ship…"

Donna gasped. "I've read about that!" she said, recalling many a happy hour spent online, reading transcripts and interviews about her favourite, much lamented show. "You really don’t mind?"

"It's gonna be a chore to sit through them all again," Charlie acknowledged. "But I'll make the sacrifice if you will."

Donna didn't have to think twice. "How about tomorrow night?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Tomorrow night it is." Nodding once, he picked up a blue folder, handing it over to her. "The notes for Josh," he told her, and she realised with surprise that she'd completely forgotten why she'd come here with him.

"Thanks," she said, accepting the file. "And I'll talk to you later about tomorrow."

"OK," he agreed, sitting down in his chair, glancing at his computer screen. "Talk to you later."

"Later," Donna said, walking back out into the hall, a spring in her step. Not only did she have a date with Charlie, but she had a Farscape date with Charlie. It didn't get much better than that.

>*<*>*<

The next night, she was once more wondering if she was doing the right thing. She'd taken a couple of minutes in her car to look over her copy of the article, committing to memory the ten taboo subjects that she was supposed to introduce into the conversation, and she shook her head now as she recalled them. "How the hell am I supposed to talk about these?" she muttered to herself. "It's just not possible."

Walking up the steps to Charlie's building, she straightened her shoulders and her jacket, tossing her hair back over her shoulders before she rang the buzzer, resolving to make the best of it. She'd try to introduce the taboos into the conversation, and if she did, she did, and if she didn't…well, at least she'd have some good television to take her mind off it.

"Hello?" Charlie's voice, more than a little scratchy through the receiver, broke through her thoughts, and she leaned forward, pressing the button.

"Charlie, it's me." Instantly, the buzzer sounded, the door opening easily, and with a last look around her, she made her way inside, climbing up the stairs to the second floor, pausing at the foot of the stairs to activate the tape recorder in her bag. Halfway up the last flight, she caught sight of a familiar face waiting for her, and she smiled in greeting. "That was quick," she said, and he shrugged.

"I don't live in a very nice neighbourhood, in case you didn't notice," he told her, stepping away from the banister.

Donna shifted her bag on her shoulder, looking around the corridor before she walked into the apartment, taking everything in. True, it wasn't a very fancy building, a step down from hers in fact, and he'd spoken the truth - it definitely wasn't a nice neighbourhood. It was also a fair distance from the White House, and although she'd never thought about it before, she was sure that Charlie could find somewhere nicer, not to mention nearer. "Have you ever thought about moving?" she asked as she stepped over the threshold, hanging her coat up on the stand, following him into the living room.

"Not really," Charlie told her with a shrug. "I mean, I know I could find some place closer to work…probably for around the same money…"

Donna rolled her eyes. "On our government salary?"

Charlie tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Fair point," he acceded. "But this is my home, you know?" She narrowed her eyes, and he looked all around him. "This is where we lived with my mom," he continued. "It's where we grew up. Look." Opening the hall closet door, he pointed something out on the wooden frame, and leaning closer, Donna could notice several small notches going right the way up on either side. "She used to measure us," Charlie explained. "I'm on the left, Deanna's on the right. And one time-" He pointed to a mark right in the middle. "Deanna and I decided that we should measure her." He smiled. "We never could understand how she stayed the same height when we kept getting taller. Deanna couldn't wait until the day she was taller than Mom." His smile faded. "She never got that."

His voice trailed off, and Donna reached out sympathetically, laying her hand on his arm. She wasn't quite sure what to say, so she just looked at him, and he turned to her with half a smile, closing the door again. "It's ok," he said. "It's just…you know…money can't replace memories."

"No…" Donna murmured. "It can't."

"So, you want something to drink?" Charlie moved off, in the direction of the kitchen she guessed, and it was only then that she realised that she'd touched on the subject of money, and regardless of what the article had said, it hadn't lead to disaster. She followed him, looking around her as she went, taking in the numerous photographs of Charlie and his family on the walls, scattered around various tables in the living room. There were lots of pictures of a younger Charlie, and a little girl that she vaguely recognised as Deanna, as well as photos of a woman that she guessed was his mother. Picking up one, she studied it closely, jumping when Charlie's voice sounded from beside her. "That was taken about a month before she died," he said. "It was the last photo we took of her."

"Charlie, I'm sorry," she said, instantly contrite. "I didn't mean to be nosy…"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it." Handing her a bottle, he continued, "I got you a ginger ale…I know you don't drink if you're driving."

Putting down the picture, she accepted the bottle with a grateful smile. "As Josh would say, I'm a bad enough driver, thank you very much."

Charlie chuckled. "How did Josh enjoy his meeting last night?"

Recalling every excruciating moment that Josh had described to her in great detail that morning, Donna burst out laughing. "Well, as far as I can tell," she began, settling herself comfortably on the couch, "All was going well until he made the ultimate error."

Charlie laughed too. "Oh, he didn't."

"Oh, he did," Donna confirmed. "Made a comment that was less than complimentary to Notre Dame. And consequently, had to sit through a two hour lecture on the history and accomplishments of the Fightin' Irish."

"Rookie mistake," Charlie murmured. "Which I," he continued more forcefully, "Never made."

"Well, Josh should know better," Donna said dryly. "By all accounts, he just opened his mouth and the words fell out." She took a beat. "As per usual."

"He's gonna have to work hard to live that one down," Charlie told her, as if she didn't already know that.

"Maybe it'll teach him to think before he opens his mouth," Donna observed, meeting Charlie's gaze across the couch, and, just as had happened at his desk the previous day, wide smiles had broken across their faces and they shook their heads, saying at the same time, "Nah."

The door buzzed then, and Charlie stood, heading for the door. "Are you expecting someone?" Donna called, but he didn't answer, not until he came back into the living room, a large flat box in his hand, steam and a delicious aroma wafting from it.

"I hope you don't mind," Charlie began, "But I thought you probably wouldn't have eaten. And that this would be a better option than microwaved macaroni and cheese." He laid the box on the coffee table, opening it to reveal a pepperoni pizza. "I know you like pepperoni."

"It's my favourite," Donna murmured. "Josh hates it; he never lets me get it in the office."

"This from a man who likes his meat burnt?" Charlie wondered, and Donna nodded, doing her best Josh impression.

"I like it where if you dropped it, it would break," she said, and Charlie laughed.

"You know, I once got his food and Leo's mixed up one time, way back when?" he told her. Donna closed her eyes, knowing that Leo's idea of a nice piece of meat was one where the animal's heart could practically still be heard beating. "Yep," Charlie confirmed, understanding her reaction completely. "He didn't check, took one bite of it, and made a run for the nearest trashcan."

Donna couldn't help but laugh at that. "Why couldn't I have been there for that?" she asked, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Just bad luck I guess," Charlie told her. "Me, I like mushrooms, but we hardly ever order them. Deanna's allergic."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Charlie nodded. "Not the kind where she can't breathe or anything. She gets sick though; stomach cramps, nausea etc etc…" Donna wrinkled her nose, and he looked contrite. "I shouldn't be talking about this while we're eating," he said.

"Perhaps not."

He shot her an apologetic grin. "I'll go get us some plates."

By the time he came back, she was over her disgust, already having grabbed herself a slice and tucked in, and she blushed at the look that she saw on his face, opting to speak through a mouthful rather than let him tease her about not waiting for him. "This is really good," she managed to get out, and he grinned, handing her a plate and napkin.

"Better than mess food?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Oh God, yes." Wiping her lips with the napkin, she transferred the slice from her hands to the plate, hoping that she wouldn't get sauce or anything else all over the couch. "This is great."

"Well," Charlie continued, helping himself to a slice. "There's ice cream in the fridge for dessert." He paused. "As long as you're not allergic that is."

She shook her head. "Ice cream is fine. Fresh cream on the other hand, not pretty. Cramps, nausea, the whole bit. I remember one time at my cousin Betsy's wedding…" She realised all of a sudden what she was saying, and though she knew it was one of the taboo subjects, she still balked at continuing. After all, between that and his story about Deanna and the mushrooms, that had to count, right? "Let's just say that I've been cautious around wedding cake ever since."

Charlie's eyes were a cross between amazed and amused, and he just nodded. "Well, you can have either mint choc chip or strawberry…and I think Deanna might have left some Rocky Road there the last time she was home."

Donna's eyes widened in surprise at the choice. "Charlie, you keep up like this, you're going to have me here every night," she quipped. He didn't say anything, just looked down at his plate, and she realised how she must have sounded, a flush spreading across her cheeks and she looked down at her plate, reverting to type - if in doubt, babble. "Although I'd have to go on a diet of course…all this food…"

"Oh come on, you know you're gorgeous," Charlie said, and her head flew up, eyes wide as she wondered if her ears were playing tricks on her. He didn't say anything else, didn't even look at her, instead reaching over to the table, to the stack of DVDs that was beside the pizza box. "So, which episode should we watch first?"

Eager to seize on something, anything else, she said the first episode that came into her mind, the one that had had her screaming at her television set a few months ago. "Dog with Two Bones," was her reply, and he nodded, moving to set it up.

"Dog with Two Bones it is then," he said.

>*<*>*<

Forty-two minutes later, the pair were sitting in front of the television, literally on the edge of their seats, jaws dropped thanks to what they'd just sat through. "It doesn't go away," Charlie murmured, and Donna nodded her assent.

"That's the first time I've seen it since I saw it. And I think it was worse this time. Does that make sense?"

"Complete sense," Charlie told her. "The first time I looked at the DVD, Deanna found me sitting here, staring at a blue screen in the early hours of the morning. Man, I love this show."

"It's kind of weird though, don't you think?" Donna asked, a thought occurring to her. "That scene where they're in the shop, and you realise that Crichton's shared so much of himself with this woman…and they don't even speak the same language."

"It is," Charlie agreed. "You think he's ever gonna get home?"

Donna shrugged. "With this show, who the hell knows?" was her entirely logical question and Charlie couldn't do anything but nod. "You ever wonder what would happen if he did go back? Would they believe him?"

"Would you?"

"At the very least, I'd be sending him for some serious therapy," Donna told him, stopping when she heard how that sounded. "Aeryn too. I mean, what do you do when you die, get brought back to life, see the man you love split into two identical versions of himself, let yourself fall in love with one, have him die on you, have your mother come back from the dead, die, at the same time as you're contemplating suicide, meet up with the clone of your dead lover, who's still in love with you, and find out you're pregnant, all in the space of a year?"

Her potted summary of the third season from Aeryn's point of view had Charlie laughing. "She might have some issues to work through," he allowed.

"Not that I'm making fun of therapy," Donna said quickly, very aware that it might seem that way, also aware that she was dancing around one of the subjects on her list. "I mean, I see how it helped Josh after Rosslyn…"

"It helped me too." Charlie filled in the silence left when her voice trailed off. "I saw someone…a police grief counsellor…after my mother died. I was angry…at pretty much everybody." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he spoke. "At her, for leaving. At the police, because I blamed them. At me, because I asked her to change shifts…she wasn't supposed to be working when she was shot."

Donna bit her lip, feeling suddenly very guilty about exploiting Charlie's feelings, just to satisfy the assistants' curiosity. "Charlie…" she whispered, reaching across and laying her hand over his.

"It's ok," he told her, shrugging his shoulder, but he turned his hand around, so that it gripped hers tightly. "It was a long time ago."

But it wasn't all right, and she knew that. She'd seen it in his eyes just now. "I can't imagine having to go through that," she murmured, squeezing his hand.

"That's why I was so worried about my grandparents, remember, when the hurricane was heading for Georgia?" Donna remembered ringing the Red Cross for hours, trying to track them down for him, could still see the look on his face when she told him that they were safe. "They're very religious, both of them. When they came here for the funeral, they tried to tell me and Deanna that Mom was with God now; that it was all part of his plan." A bitter smile twisted his face. "You can imagine how that went down with an angry young man, who'd spent the last few nights trying to get his sister to stop crying, who didn't have a clue what he was going to do next." He let out a deep breath. "I said a lot of things I shouldn't have said…basically told them that there couldn't be a God, that a loving God wouldn't have done something like that to me and Deanna."

Donna looked at him curiously. "How do you feel about that now?"

Charlie shrugged. "There are times when I'd give anything to have her back. Just to see her once more, you know? And as for God…there are times when I still have trouble with him. It usually happens around May."

Rosslyn. Mrs Landingham. The MS announcement. Simon. "I know just what you mean," Donna murmured.

"Then there are the times when I'm on Air Force One, and we've just been somewhere that I never thought I'd be…meeting kings or queens or heads of state, and they've shaken my hand and remembered my name…and I look at where I work, and I know that I'd never be there if it wasn't for what happened to my mom." He shrugged. "Maybe there is some divine plan, I don't know. And I don't think I want to."

"I know what you mean," she told him.

He looked at her, then to their joined hands, and a questioning look settled on his face. "How'd we get to talking about religion?" he wondered, and Donna could only shake her head.

"I have no idea," she said. "But according to Josh, I’m good at changing subjects rapidly."

"You'd think I'd be used to it with the President."

"Or Debbie."

"True." He tilted his head towards the screen. "Some cliff-hanger."

Donna seized on the words, eager to get back to safe ground, releasing her grip on his hand, finding to her surprise that she missed the warmth of his skin when it left her. "I love Aeryn's wedding dress," she said, settling back comfortably on the couch, propping her legs up on the coffee table.

Charlie took a beat before responding. "While I would never wish to sound as if it's a main selling point of the show for me…" She looked at him strangely, and he paused again before continuing, "She's a fine looking woman."

Donna laughed. "You're worried about appearing shallow? Please! Showing my room-mate a picture of Ben Browder in leather pants was the only way I could get her to watch the show with me."

"Sounds like Deanna," Charlie agreed. "You'd look good in that dress though."

The words caught her off guard, and she took a quick drink, casting through her mind for something to say to fill in the awkward silence. "Just don't say that around my mother," she finally said. "You'll get her started."

Charlie tilted his head to one side, turning slightly on the couch so that he was facing her. "She wants you to get married?"

"Oh yes." Donna's lips pursed as she recalled the many times that they'd clashed over this. "She thinks that I should be married by now, with kids of my own…she's never quite got over the fact that I had a doctor in my grasp and I let him go."

Charlie chuckled. "I think the President would applaud you for that."

Donna, having heard the President talk in less than glowing terms about doctors, a joke on his wife and daughter, knew that he was trying to make her laugh. Unfortunately, the joke was a little too close to home for her. "When I was dating Alan, one time, she took her wedding dress out of the attic, made me try it on." She closed her eyes at the memory. "It was the most hideous thing…puffed sleeves, and a fitted waist, big hoop skirt…plus, I'm a good three inches taller than my mother, and not a little less voluptuous I gotta say." She rolled her eyes. "She stood there with tears in her eyes and tried to tell me that I looked beautiful."

"She's your mom," Charlie shrugged. "She just wants what's best for you."

"She wants what she thinks is best for me," Donna objected. "That's not the same thing."

"And you don't want to get married?"

The question was quiet, serious, and Donna took her time formulating a response, never having tried to answer it before. "I do," she said eventually. "But I don't want to get married to someone just because he's got a good job, or because my mom likes him, or because he's safe. I mean, not that those are bad things as such, but if I'm going to spend the rest of my life with someone, then I want it to be someone that I can talk to, someone that I enjoy spending time with…someone I'm madly in love with and can't live without." She looked down at the floor. "That sounds pretty hokey," she muttered, embarrassed.

Charlie's answer, when it came, was just as quiet and serious as the question that had preceded her words. "No," he said. "It sounds nice."

Donna shrugged. "I mean, my mom and dad have a good marriage, coming up on forty years now. They really do adore each other…I guess that's what I want."

"I don't remember my dad," Charlie admitted. "Not really; he split before Deanna was born. I've never had what you had when you were growing up…I guess that's why I want it."

Realising how serious they'd become, Donna forced a smile to her face. "Now, if in the meantime, I can just convince my mother that my working in politics isn't the end of the world…"

Charlie's eyes narrowed. "She doesn't like having her daughter working in the White House?"

"Oh, she likes having her daughter working in the White House," Donna acknowledged. "It's working with politicians that she's not too pleased about."

"Then why do you do it? If your family doesn't like it-"

"It's not about my family Charlie," she said, interrupting him. "It's about me. When I started this job, I could hardly believe where I was, what I was doing…and then, all of a sudden, I've gone from Donna Moss, university dropout, to the assistant to the White House Deputy Chief of Staff. And I'm good at what I do Charlie, and I like it. But that's not the only reason."

"It's not?"

She shook her head, trying to find words to explain it. "What we do Charlie…it's about more than Democrats and Republicans trying to best one another. It's not just President Bartlet and Governor Ritchie throwing mud at one another; that might be what my mom thinks, but politics isn't about that. It's about helping people…about making the world a better place. That's what the President is trying to do. And there are days when it feels like nothing's getting done, and there are days when we screw up and we make mistakes, and there are days when we feel like we're stuck in the mud…but Charlie, when we get it right, when we win one…" She closed her eyes, and she could see herself, standing in the communications bullpen, surrounded by people, praying that a stubborn Senator was as clued in to the rules of Senate procedure as Josh was, that he would trust that the man who'd just interrupted him was trying to help him. She could hear the roar that went up in the bullpen when he did, feel the relief, the exultation, the satisfaction of a job well done. It was the kind of feeling that didn't come along often, the kind of feeling that was to be savoured. "That feeling you get…you know the feeling?"

She opened her eyes as she asked him that question, and she could see that he too was miles away, lost in his own memories. "I never wanted to be the President's body man," he told her. "I interviewed for a job as a bike messenger. Debbie, she saw something in me I guess. Recommended me to Josh, he interviewed me…"

"I remember…"

Charlie continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Of course, that night was the President's TV address, it being the first time that he'd attacked another country and all. I remember turning around to Josh, standing behind a television camera in the Oval Office, telling him that I'd never felt like this before. He told me that it doesn't go away."

Donna shook her head. "No," she agreed. "It never does." She sighed. "That's what my mom doesn’t understand. I don't think she can, I don't think anyone can until they work here themselves. I know she's proud of me. I know that. She just …I think she's worried about someone taking advantage of me…talking about me. She knows that there's talk about me and Josh, about just how I got my job at the White House…she worries I guess." Sometime in that sentence, Charlie's eyes had grown wide, and she frowned. "What? You didn't think I knew that people talk about me and Josh?"

Charlie's mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. "It's not that…what I mean is…"

"Relax Charlie," Donna laughed. "Of course there's talk about me and Josh. It's no big deal."

"It's not?" Charlie sounded most surprised, and Donna couldn't really blame him. She'd endured years of the other assistants tiptoeing around the subject of her and Josh, shooting her sympathetic glances every time he went out with a woman, and each and every time it happened, she wanted to shake them.

"Would it surprise you to know that Josh and I have never slept together?" she asked point blank, and his jaw went slack. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Donna, it's really none of my business-"

"You're telling me that Debbie hasn't been asking you ever since she's been working her if Josh and I are at it like rabbits?" Charlie looked down at the floor, and Donna took that as a confirmation of her suspicions. "There's nothing like that between me and Josh Charlie," she said gently. "Never has been and never will be."

He looked up at her then, and there was something in his eyes that looked an awful lot like hope. Just as quickly as she categorised it though, it vanished, and she thought that she must be imagining things. "You sure?" he asked, and she could hear the doubt loud and clear in his voice. "Because you two have serious sparkage."

She laughed lightly, shaking her head. "Charlie, I run around after him in the office all day, making sure that everything gets done. You think I want to do that in my time off too?" She shook her head, thinking of the men that she'd dated over the last few years; Jack, Cliff, Todd; complete wastes of time every one. Of course, before that, there'd been Doctor Freeride, and all that that entailed. "I've done that once. I don't intend doing it again."

She knew that her face had darkened as she remembered that relationship, giving up college for him, running around after him, working all the hours that God sent to support him, until she got a phone call from Stephanie Gault, asking her did she know him, telling her that she thought that he was cheating on her with Donna. Donna had replied that he was actually cheating on her with Stephanie, and that had lead to a long discussion, which had lead to a certain amount of bonding between the two women. They'd been friends ever since. "What do you mean?" Charlie asked, his voice bringing her back to reality, and she shook her head.

"Remember when I was talking about the wedding dress?" He nodded. "Well, I was dating this guy, Alan. He was a med student, older than I was…I was this naïve little sophomore, and when he suggested that since we were serious, that we were probably going to get married when we finished school, maybe I should drop out of college, help him pay his tuition, and then he'd do the same for me when he was qualified." Charlie's face was neutral, not giving anything away, and she waved her hand. "Yeah," she said. "I can't believe I fell for it either."

"So he broke up with you?" Charlie guessed.

"Which is when I decided to join the Bartlet for America campaign. Drove from Madison to Manchester-"

"Are you kidding me?"

She nodded proudly. "907 miles, in case you're wondering. Josh hired me, and I've never looked back." She spared him the details about her more or less hiring herself, because she had a feeling that he knew that part of the story anyway; it seemed that most people did. "The funny thing is though, that even though I was the one doing all the work, carrying the relationship, he was the one who called all the shots." One shoulder moved up and down in a shrug. "I guess I like that in a man, the whole take charge, we're doing this my way kind of thing." It had been that which had drawn her to Jack, a Republican working in Democratic White House, she'd told herself that meant that he was a strong man, that he wouldn't be easily intimidated. The same thing had happened with Cliff; she'd begun dating him again when he took charge, telling her to meet him at the Georgetown Law Library, when she'd figured out that he was trying to move heaven and earth to help Leo. "So, when he called me up when I was working on the campaign, told me that he loved me, that he missed me, that he couldn't live without me…I went back to him."

She sneaked a glance at Charlie then, expecting to see some shock, or recrimination on his face. Instead, she just saw concern. "What happened?" he asked softly.

"I got in a car accident," she said simply. "Not badly, I just hurt my ankle. But when I called him to pick me up at the hospital, he'd planned to meet his friends for a beer. He stopped at the bar to tell them that he couldn't make it…and he stayed. When he finally made it to the hospital, hours later, I could smell the beer on his breath." Her stomach twisted painfully, even all these years later, and she raised her drink to her lips, hoping that it would wash down the sudden lump in her throat. "That's when I left him."

Charlie shook his head, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, "Asswipe," and she couldn't say that she disagreed with him.

"I came back to the campaign, and Josh took me back. Even though I'd left him in the lurch once, even though he had no reason to trust me, he took me back." She was able to look him in the eyes then, wanting him to believe her. "That's part of what's between us. Part of it is Rosslyn. Part of it is that we just get along really really well." Memories of some of the times they hadn't got along so well came to her, and she caught herself, biting her lip. "Most of the time anyway," she added.

"That's quite a story," he said.

"The story of my escape from my inconsiderate ass of an ex?" Donna asked, hoping the quip would ease the serious atmosphere that had settled around them like a blanket. "It really is." She drained the last of her drink, and before she could say anything, Charlie was out of his seat, going to the kitchen to get her a refill. He brought back a soda for himself as well, and when he sat back down again, she looked at him. "Come on then, fair's fair."

He frowned, obviously not understanding her. "What do you-"

"I mean Charlie, that I've just told you all about my horrendous love life. Now, turnabout's fair play."

He chuckled, shifting slightly in his seat. "I'm not so sure-"

"Oh, come on, a guy like you? I bet you've left all kinds of broken hearts in your wake." It was only when she said the words that she realised she was talking to him about exes, one of the taboo subjects, and she hadn't even noticed.

"I do ok," he told her dryly, and she gave him one of her best "Speak to me now" looks, the one that Josh had once told her made him feel as if he'd just killed her hamster. It must have had the same effect on Charlie because he sighed as he continued, "But I've only been ever been serious about one."

It didn't take a genius to work out who. "Zoey."

"Zoey," he confirmed, a small smile appearing on his face. "It was one of those things… there were so many reasons why we should never have worked. Between the President, my job, the race thing…" He swallowed hard at the last one, and the memory of that long night sitting in a waiting room in GU made her stomach clench. "I was crazy about that girl," he admitted. "And when she went to Europe…" He shrugged. "It broke my heart."

Donna frowned. "I thought you two agreed to stay friends?"

"We did," he agreed. "I mean, it was better that way, right? She should have that year in Europe without having to worry about her boyfriend back home. Besides, we were too young…you don't meet the person you're going to marry at nineteen and twenty-one." He took a swallow of his drink. "I knew that. Didn't make it easier though."

Donna sighed. "No…I don't imagine it would."

Silence fell over the room, and it was Charlie who broke it. "We're very serious all of a sudden," he observed.

"And what do you suggest we do to have some fun?" Donna inquired, lifting an eyebrow archly, propping her head up on her hand, her elbow resting against the back of the couch.

"I've got just the thing," Charlie told her, reaching for another DVD box, removing the DVD and handing her the box so that she could see. "The first one," he pointed out, rather unnecessarily in Donna's book.

"Scratch and Sniff," she murmured. "Excellent."

>*<*>*<

Forty-two minutes later, all solemnity had been banished from the room as the two of them were reduced to helpless giggles on the couch, Donna with tears streaming from her eyes. "I love…that…episode…" she managed to choke out. "D'Argo…dancing…" The image set her off again, and she leaned back on the couch, head pillowed on the back cushion, arms crossed over her belly, and gave herself over to more laughter.

"He's almost as good as Josh," Charlie quipped pausing the DVD, and she reached over, swatting his shoulder lightly.

"Hey," she said, loyalty demanding that she defend her boss. Then she remembered that Josh was a terrible dancer, and Charlie really did have a point. "No teasing Josh," she told him at last. "That's my job."

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "If you say so," he said.

"I say so," she said resolutely, before looking at him with her best little girl pleading look in her eyes. "Can we watch it again?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You just want to see Ben Browder in suspenders," he accused, pointing at her, and she swatted at his finger.

"It's rude to point," she told him. "And no. A man in suspenders doesn't do it for me."

At that, he looked at her. "What does then?"

Her eyes opened wide. "Excuse me?"

"What does do it for you?" he shrugged. "I'm just curious."

She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "Like I told you earlier," she managed eventually. "Someone who's confident…sure of himself…someone who's able to take charge." She reached up self-consciously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Someone I can talk to, someone who I can laugh with…" A shrug, and a nervous smile. "Drop dead gorgeous and filthy rich wouldn't hurt either." Another shrug. "This is what I tell my mom when she asks me why I can't find a decent man. I expect too much. Either that, or I'm looking in the wrong places."

"Maybe you are," he agreed, and there was something in his tone that had been there a couple of times earlier in the night, and she found herself looking at him, trying to read what was going on in his eyes. When he'd returned to the couch, he'd sat back down closer to her than he'd been before, leaving just enough room between them to still be socially decent. Still though, he was close enough that his proximity, along with the look in his eyes, sent a shiver down her spine.

"You trying to tell me something Charlie?" she asked lightly, propping one arm against the sofa and resting her head on it, shocked to realise that she hoped that he was.

He mimicked her posture, one shoulder moving up and down in a shrug. "Depends."

She moved her hand from under her head, stretching it towards him, and he met her halfway, lacing his fingers through hers. "On what?" she breathed.

A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "On what you'd say if I were."

He was leaning towards her as he spoke, and Donna found herself smiling. "I think I could live with it…"

That made him smile. "That so?" That was all he got a chance to say before his lips met hers, and Donna forgot all about bets and taboos and Farscape and everything else that they'd talked about that night. The only thing that mattered to her were Charlie's lips on hers, his hands running through her hair, arms sliding around her waist, pressing her close against him. Perhaps mindful of her earlier comments, he took complete control of the kiss, and her mind was swimming pleasantly when an explosion of noise made her jump violently.

"Damn," Charlie muttered, more to himself than her, reaching for the DVD remote control and clicking mute. Squinting at the television, Donna realised that the DVD had begun running again, the end credits of the show scrolling up the screen. She frowned, wondering why it had done that, and Charlie explained, "It does that when it's been on pause for a while… kicks back in to wherever it was."

"Ah," Donna murmured. "I see." Straightening up on the couch, she took mental stock of the situation she found herself in; heart beating rapidly, lips tingling from Charlie's kisses, shirt untucked from her jeans, hair, she realised as she reached up to smooth it down, an unholy mess. She didn't, however, feel as if this was a bad thing, and when Charlie turned back to her, taking her hand in his, the look on his face didn't seem to indicate that he regretted it either.

"Do you?" he asked seriously, holding one of her hands in both of his, looking down at them rather than at her face.

Blinking at the sudden change in his mood, she reached out, touching a finger to his chin, tilting his head up so that she could see into his eyes. "Charlie?" she asked gently. "Talk to me?"

There was a long pause before he spoke again. "I don't want you to think," he said slowly. "That this is why I invited you over here tonight. That I just wanted to-"

"I didn't think that." Donna's free hand went to her chest in surprise. "I would never think that."

Charlie shrugged. "I like you Donna," he admitted. "I've liked you for a while. But I always thought…well, you can guess." Thanks to their earlier conversation, she could. "So when you started talking about Farscape yesterday, I thought maybe we could hang out…get to know one another a bit. Maybe…"

"Begin what we just began?" she grinned, and he nodded.

"Something like that."

Donna nodded, keeping her face level, not showing any emotion. "Well then…" she sighed, and Charlie looked down at their joined hands again, evidently thinking that that couldn't be a good sign. Donna had to bite her lip to keep the grin off her face when he looked back up. There was a look of alarm on his face, probably something to do with the fact that she'd drawn her hand away from his. A teasing chuckle rose up in her throat as she slipped her arms around his neck, shifting slightly on the couch so that she closed any residual distance between them. "Why don't we pick up where we left off?" She pressed her lips against his, and he responded enthusiastically, but he pulled away after a minute, looking at her curiously.

"You're sure about this?" he asked.

Donna nodded, knowing that this was the last thing that she'd been thinking about when she made the bet with the rest of the assistants, also knowing that this was exactly what she wanted. "I'm sure," she told him. "But there is something you should know about me."

One of his hands traced patterns on her back, and it stilled as her words sank in. "What's that?" he asked suspiciously.

"I don't know about you…but I'm not a do it on the first date kind of person." Not even with Cliff, she remembered; that had been the second date, and ever since then, she'd been far more cautious about who she took to her bed. She was curious about how Charlie was going to react to that, but he just shrugged, tilting his head, smiling a pleased little smile at her.

"Well then…" He echoed her words from earlier on. "I'm just going to have to ask you for a second date then."

"Well then…" She leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. "I'm going to have to say yes."

Their lips met again then, and in the split second before he drove all rational thought from her mind, Donna reflected on the fact that she'd fulfilled all the terms of the bet. She'd talked about the ten taboo subjects, and she'd got a second date. Somehow though, she couldn't quite find it in herself to care about that anymore, and she was pretty sure that the tape in her bag was never going to see the light of day. Bet or no bet, she'd already come out a winner.