The West Wing, Season Seven

Josh:
So last night was nice. Nice. It was really nice. On the nice scale it was way up there in terms of... you know, niceness.

Donna:
Be still and listen to me. I don't know what this is. And you don't, either, which is perfectly fine and understandable. Whatever the buildup, it's all happened amid absurdly heightened emotional circumstances: the election, Leo's death. There's been... not a moment to so much as... take a breath, much less figure any of this out. And now this roller coaster's plunging into the transition, with its time-pressure demands and then the inauguration, and it's hit the ground running, and the first hundred days and, before you know it, the midterms and the new Congress, and then we're running again and four years becomes eight, and... we've never had the talk. And you can lose that look of panic in your eyes. We're not going to have it now; we don't ever have to have it. But there's a window. I'd say four weeks. If we can't get it together in that time to figure out what we want from each other, then clearly it's not worth the trouble. While last night was lovely, I've already called a cab. You should put on some coffee, and I'll see you at the office.