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Analecta

by: N. Y. Smith

Disclaimer: Not Mine

Category: AU (very), Josh/Donna Romance, Josh POV, Angst,

Spoilers: Through Season Three

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Contains references to 9/11/2001. Amy-free universe.

Faith



History records the public events of the next days, the dashed hopes, the sorrow, the outrage. It doesn't record the days we functioned with only stolen moments of sleep, of meetings ended when one or more of the participants nodded off, of quick hugs and hand squeezes Donna and I would exchange as we passed in the halls, of endless nights watching the excavation at Ground Zero, of comforting Sam and Toby when they learned another friend had simply not come home. Finally, on Friday afternoon, when the weight of all that had happened threatened to crush us all, Toby's face appeared in my doorway.

"Busy, Josh?"

"I'm not sure anymore," I admitted. "What's up?"

"I, um," he fidgeted with his hand, "I thought you might want to go to temple tonight."

I started to decline, but an ancient need tugged within me. "Sure. What time?"

"Six-thirty."

I nodded. "Can I bring Donna?"

He smiled, the first I'd seen on his face in days. "Sure. Bring your goy girlfriend."

"Goy wife," I corrected.

"Whose goy wife?" Donna breezed, as well as she could after three days virtually without sleep, past Toby, setting file folders on my desk.

"My goy wife," I confirmed and Toby flushed scarlet.

"So I've been promoted from shiksa?" she grinned.

"Only in the office," I deadpanned and Toby chuckled.

"You're disgusting," she chided.

"Yes, but that's why you love me."

"Only in your dreams, Joshua."

"Not for long," I leered.

"I'm gonna be sick," Toby carped with a smile before leaving.

"What's up?" Donna slumped into the visitor's chair.

"Toby," I answered while rummaging through the drawer where Donna stashed my personal things, "wants to go to temple tonight."

"And?"

"And," I chirped victoriously, plucking a yarmulke from the drawer, "he wants us to go with him."

"And you?"

I handed her the yarmulke and, leaning precariously, she slipped it into my jacket pocket without removing it from the coat rack. "My grandfather nearly died for his beliefs," I replied softly. "It's time I started living for mine."

"By taking your shiksa wife to temple with you?" She grinned.

"My goy wife," I corrected. "First to temple, then home." I let the word home hang there for a moment. "Okay?"

"Better than okay." She stood. "Just remember this on Sunday when I make you take me to church."

"Trying to proselytize me already?"

Her face was suddenly serious. "No, Josh, I would never..."

"I'm only teasing, Donna. Go. Get ready to leave this place for a few hours." She mock saluted and left me alone, my gaze finally resting on my grandfather's picture.

It had been a long time since I'd been to temple. I hadn't realized quite how long until I stumbled half-way through the shamesh. Donna, on the other hand, was totally lost. Flipping from page to page in the siddur, she finally gave up and listened. Toby was restless, glancing at his watch, then back to the door, all the while reciting his prayers flawlessly. It was about the point I faltered when I heard him sigh and he waved his hand for us to scoot toward the center of the bench seat. Only a glimpse of the red hair was necessary for me to understand his relief. With a quiet smile he twined his fingers with his companion.

Hi, Andy, Donna leaned over and mouthed silently.

Congresswoman Andrea Wyatt waved a greeting before joining Toby in recitation. Haltingly, I joined them, the nearly-forgotten training of my youth returning in fits and spurts. Afterward, we stood in the humid early evening making small talk with Senator Wilbank's Chief of Staff, Jake Wasser, and Ben Angel from Justice. While Andy Wyatt joined in the conversation, Donna stood quietly, eyes so intently scanning the crowd that she didn't notice someone sneaking up on her.

"Mommy!" a tiny voice cried while the owner of the voice wrapped itself around her leg.

"Hi!" she smiled and knelt, gathering a toddler boy with cottony curls into her arms. "Is your mommy around here?"

The sight of her, Donna, with a child in her arms left me speechless. We hadn't even discussed children.

A terrified voice cried, "Isaiah?" before spotting the child in Donna's arms. With a relieved sigh of thanks she retrieved the child.

Hugging her empty arms to herself as if to warm them, she whispered with a shy smile, "See, Joshua, Jewish children do come with blonde hair and curls."

I slipped my arm around her waist and we left Toby and Andy to continue along their convergent paths. Our path took us to the home we'd agreed upon in stolen moments, my apartment, by way of hers. I showered while she unpacked then, while she showered, I rifled through my sock drawer for the velvet box I'd stowed there months before. She emerged from the bathroom in a steamy cloud, towel wrapped around her head. Years of staying in adjoining rooms had long ago dispelled the mystique of sleepwear. I wore pyjama bottoms and she wore waffle knit pyjamas. I couldn't stifle the smirk.

"What?" She tugged at her pyjamas. "You were expecting a marabou peignoir?"

"I don't even know what that is."

"Feathers and chiffon."

"Feathers make me sneeze," I stepped closer to her.

"And chiffon is too cold," she closed the distance until I could feel her breath on my chest. "What are you hiding?" She reached around behind me and pulled out my hand.

Shock registered on her face at the sight of the velvet ring box.

"I bought these," I stammered, "not long after Rosslyn." Her eyes were looking directly into mine. "I was going to ask you at Christmas but..." I shrugged.

"But you kept them safe until now."

I removed the smaller band from the box and slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand. With a shy smile, she did the same for me.

"I am my beloved's," she whispered, her lips brushing mine.

"And my beloved is mine," I answered, hesitating, giving her one last chance to change her mind.

Eyes wide open, fixed on mine, she framed my face with her hands, the ring cool against my cheek. Returning her smile, my hands fulfilled a long-standing urge and settled on her hips. "Is this for real?" her breath tickled my cheek.

"Yeah," I whispered. "And it's forever."



Chapters - Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

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