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[notforredlights]

It was, like most days on Tabula Rasa, beautiful out. That was one thing the island had going for it at least, blue skies and warm days, green everywhere. For a week, for two, Donna thought she would have enjoyed it. For thirty, it was a bit much. The time hadn't flown for her, as it seemed to for others. It had crawled by, day by day, hours

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[playingsmart]

Sam hadn't slept late that morning, but he'd stayed in his hut with a critique on policy of a President called Clinton that Meredith had mentioned. It was interesting, overall, to see what the man had to work against, and with. A very different climate from the one that Bartlett had dealt with.

It was almost noon when he actually came out of his hut, hand scrubbing through his hair, dressed in shorts and a Duke tshirt. "Morning. Or is it afternoon?"

[notforredlights]

"I can't actually tell anymore," Donna said, looking up with a wry smile. He was one of the few things about this place that kept it livable. She hadn't shaken her early bird habits yet, which was a little frustrating now that she could actually sleep in, but she certainly got to bed a lot earlier these days. "Morning, I think."

[playingsmart]

"You can't just look up into the sky and ascertain the time within a five minute range?" Sam raised an eyebrow, leaning in against the table. "Donna. I'm disappointed in you."

[notforredlights]

"I know," she sighed, raising her hands. "It is a flaw on my part, Sam, and one I will work hard to correct."

[playingtheenemy]

Ainsley hefted the basket up with her, thankful for the year-round growing season all the time when it came to her peach tree and was making another delivery to make sure they didn't go bad. "I hope you like peaches," she announced to Donna as she approached, setting the basket down before her. "Because these are all yours."

[notforredlights]

"That is a lot of peaches," Donna observed, looking at the basket, then tipping her head up to Ainsley with a smile. "Thank you. It'll be nice just to have normal fruit again. That tree of yours is really productive." She'd been around long enough not to question the fact that a peach tree had simply appeared for Ainsley. That wasn't that weird here.

[playingtheenemy]

"I think it's less to do with me and more to do with the tropical and endless climate," Ainsley had to admit as she slid into the bench and rested her chin on her hands. "I could help you make a cobbler or six if you don't like them just as they are, but they're really fresh and I do encourage you trying them, at least the once. I mean, obviously, only if you want to because otherwise it's just like forced-fruit and you'll never enjoy a fruit that way, at least, not in my opinion, not after the experience I had with apricots."

[notforredlights]

"You know, I had that problem with blueberries," Donna mused, head tipping to the side, and then she reached into the basket to take a peach. "These are great just as they are, Ainsley, thank you. You want to sit a bit? Hang out?" She bit into the peach after she'd spoken, savoring it. The tropical and endless climate had obviously worked in their favor.

[playingstupid]

It had been a while since they’d talked, a few terse words here and there. Donna hadn’t forgiven him, by any stretch of the imagination, and he couldn’t blame her. He hadn’t made it easy, by a long shot, and he almost didn’t know how to. He’d spent two years without her, and then she fell into their lives again like nothing had changed, except him. His life had changed, he’d learned to live alone, without her, as much as it hurt. And when she finally arrived, he had hidden the truth, hidden what his life had become, he had pushed back so hard... It was basically all his fault, and he didn’t know how to fix it. Him. Josh Lyman, the brilliant mind, the policy-maker, the lawman. He couldn’t fix it.

He wandered up by the hut as he did from time to time, half hoping they were there and half wishing they weren’t. He saw her at the benches, the lightness of her hair caught by the ever-present sun. Grow some balls. He headed toward her, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Hi."