Josh took another swig of beer before passing it back to Donna's outstretched hand. It was comfortable, yet at the same time uncomfortable, how tuned they are to each other. It has always been like this, from the moment she walked into his office—and his life—three years ago. Completely natural. Effortless, in a way Josh had never experienced with another person.

Not looking away from the TV screen where they were still watching the proceedings on the Senate floor, Josh held out his hand again and immediately felt the cool glass of the beer bottle as Donna handed it back to him on cue. Truthfully, he was only half-listening to what was going on on the screen. It was just to waste time at the moment, modifying the bill would take multiple more meetings over the next few weeks and any questions he still had for the Senator he would have plenty of opportunity to ask. Or maybe Toby and Sam were listening. Whatever, Josh had done more than his fair share of work for the day.

Actually, he had to admit, he had done very little in the grand scheme of things to achieve the heroic solution that had ended Stackhouse's eight-hour-long filibuster. No, that credit belonged almost entirely to the woman sitting beside him now. Somehow, in the midst of everyone running around, trying to change their weekend schedules, and wondering just what the hell was going on, Donna had beaten them all to the discovery that Stackhouse had an autistic grandson. And while Josh hadn't been present in the Oval Office when the plan to end the filibuster had been hatched, CJ had told him later that that had been Donna too.

"Josh?" Donna's voice broke into his thought. He turned, ready to pass her the last sip of beer, but she didn't seem to be looking for the bottle. He raised his eyebrows to acknowledge that she had his attention and waited for her to continue.

"Is this actually going to change anything?" she asked. "I mean, he went through all this trouble to get our attention. Surely we can make something happen for him?" She looked genuinely concerned, and Josh felt a twinge of annoyance—and hurt—at how little faith she seemed to have in the government. In fairness, he didn't trust Congress any further than he could throw the entire Capitol building, but surely their administration had proven time and time again that they were determined to do the right thing, and this was one of the few times where "the right thing" was just plainly obvious. Of course they were going to help him; Josh himself would see to that.

"We're reopening the bill when Congress gets back," Josh explained. "He can attach his amendment then, along with any other stragglers who want in on the fun. Barring someone doing something really stupid, it should still pass no problem. Actually," Josh shook his head, "it's never that simple. But we'll make it work. The President is personally behind this one now."

Donna nodded distractedly, still seemingly unconvinced, so Josh tried again.

"Donna," he waited for her to look at him. "You did good today. I'm serious. This," he gestured to the discussion that seemed to be finally wrapping up on the Hill, "was all you. No one else could have made that happen. If nothing else, I'm personally gonna see to it that this passes so you can go home and tell your Republican family how you were instrumental in passing a bipartisan bill through the Senate."

"Might you be exaggerating just a little?" she teased with a smile. "I didn't do a thing until today."

"Hey, a quarterback can throw the ball ninety-nine yards, but the running back who takes it that last yard will get credited with the touchdown."

"I take it you're the quarterback in this analogy then?"

"What's right is right," Josh shrugged with a smile.

"Besides, I don't think a single person in their right mind would give me credit for this," Donna reasoned. "I really didn't do anything, Josh."

"Maybe not," Josh allowed. "But I give you credit, and you'd better believe the President gives you credit."

"The only two people in the country who matter, then."

"I sense I'm being mocked!"

"Well, you sense right," Donna was smiling softly now, the way she always did when they bantered like this. It was their own language, a way for them to communicate without worrying about crossing that line, because it was so easy to act like it was nothing serious. That it was often the most serious Josh ever was was something he chose not to think too much about.

"CJ told me about what happened in the Oval Office," Josh said suddenly, because he needed her to know that he knew, needed her to know just how big of a roll she had played tonight.

"Oh god," Donna groaned.

"What?"

"I raised my hand!" she exclaimed. "It was the most awkward exchange to ever happen in that office, ever! I was so out of place in there."

Josh looked at her in disbelief. "Okay, first of all, that probably wasn't even the most awkward exchange in that office this week. And second, you think that's what they're gonna remember from today? Donna, you should have seen the look on her face when she told me how you explained Senate floor procedure to the President and Leo. Two of the smartest people in the entire party, if not the country, and you were the only person in the room who could do that. She was so proud of you, Donna. I'm so proud of you."

"You knew," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes.

"What?"

"You knew, about the filibuster rule," she clarified. "You could have said that, if you were there."

"Well, yeah, I know everything," Josh shrugged. "But I wasn't in the room. And to be perfectly honest I probably wouldn't have even thought of it if I was—"

"But that's how I knew," Donna interrupted. "You told me about it once. I don't even remember why, but you were explaining filibuster rules. I think you were frustrated about something else and you were just talking to let off steam. You probably don't even remember saying it, but I guess I did. So yeah," she trailed off. "Not that your ego needs any more inflating, but thank you."

"Donna…" Josh knew he was staring, but he really had no idea what to say to that. He knew their banter had taken a rare serious turn, and Josh always felt he had to tread carefully when that happened, because he was all too good at sticking his foot in his mouth and saying something that upset her, or worse, hurt her. A thousand thoughts spun through his head at once, but the one that actually verbalized itself was, "you actually listen to me?"

Donna looked at him like he had grown another head. "Josh, you pay me to listen to you. Of course I listen to you."

"Josh shook his head. "Not like that. I mean, when I'm just talking to talk? I'm usually not even listening to what I'm saying when I do that. I'm just…talking. I'm not…why are you listening?"

"For occasions such as this," she fired back. "I didn't go to college, Josh. I didn't have an internship, and waitressing hardly counts as relevant job experience. Most of the time I don't even feel like I'm qualified to stand in the same building as all of you, much less the same room. Believe it or not, listening to you enjoy the sound of your own voice is the only way for me to really learn what's going on around here. So, that's why I listen when you talk."

"You're kinda amazing, do you know that?" Josh shook his head in awe at his assistant. When it looked like she was going to respond, he held up his hand to stop her. "I'm serious. I've never met anyone else who could do what you've done. You're more than qualified for this job, Donna. No one in this building would ever argue with that. You keep me in line—which I know can be a handful sometimes—better than anyone else could. I know I couldn't do this without you, and today…" he trailed off. He made eye contact with her and she didn't look away. "Watching you grow over the past few years has been one of the best parts of this job for me. And I can't take credit for all of that. Some of it, sure, I mean, you wouldn't be here without me," Josh smiled when she raised an eyebrow at him. "But I'm also not stupid enough to believe that just anyone would have grown the way you have. I could have interviewed a thousand assistants and not one of them would come close to being as good at this as you are. Because you care. You care more than ninety percent of people in this town, guarantee it. And never doubt just how big a difference that makes."

"I care because you care," Donna concluded after a minute of silence, as they both contemplated Josh's little speech. "I'm only as good as you are, Josh. That's why we work so well together."

"We do make a pretty great team," Josh agreed, gently knocking his knee against hers. He just then noticed how close they were sitting. Not quite close enough to be considered inappropriate (he didn't think), but close enough that he could easily reach out and touch her if he wanted to. Only if he wanted to, though.

Josh stopped that train of thought—if there was one thing he excelled at, it was repression and denial—but didn't push his chair back, and neither did she. Because they were comfortable together, and this was just what they did.

The TV was dark now, though Josh didn't know if that was because the feed had cut off, or if Donna had managed to turn it off while they were talking. Whatever the cause, the room was completely silent in the absence of the background drone, and Josh felt the impulse to fill it. To lighten the mood, because it was rare for them to display such honesty with each other, but he resisted. Because this was comfortable, and that's what made it so uncomfortable.

Before his brain could completely spiral out of control trying to figure that one out, Josh felt Donna's hand on his leg, gentle, but enough to get his attention.

"Wanna give me a ride home?" she asked. "So I don't have to take the Metro?"

Josh glanced at the clock on his office wall and saw that it was after midnight. "Yeah, of course," he answered, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "You could just crash at mine, if you don't wanna go all the way out to your apartment. I think you still have some stuff there from when you stayed with me last fall." He was referring to that time which they tried very hard not to refer to, the period after he was released from the hospital but was still mostly on bedrest and in tremendous amounts of pain.

Donna had spent almost every moment either at the office or with him at his apartment, bringing him any briefings he could study from home, and making sure he was getting enough rest. She had stayed there many nights too, either on the couch or in the spare bedroom after he had finally convinced his mother that he could survive without her constant, well, mothering. Donna had stayed there so often that some of her clothes had migrated over as well, and she had a bottle of shampoo under his sink. Months later, and neither of them had made an effort to return her things.

Josh tried not to think too much about that either.

"You have a flight to Florida in the morning, remember?" she reminded him. "Dude sighting?"

"Oh yeah," he replied distractedly, suddenly disappointed at the idea of going away for the weekend. He had been looking forward to this for weeks, yet after everything that had happened that night it suddenly seemed so unimportant. All he wanted at that moment was to take Donna back to his, order some late-night takeout (it was Washington, something would still be open), and maybe fall asleep in front of a movie while passing another beer back and forth.

Maybe she would fall asleep first, her head coming to rest on his shoulder like it used to on the campaign bus years ago, and he would quietly turn off the TV and carry her into the spare bedroom. Or maybe he would be so tired that he would carry her to his own room by mistake, and they would just sleep like that. It wouldn't be the first time they had shared a bed, circumstances had forced them to become comfortable with each other very quickly during the campaign, and even during his recovery she was known to sit in bed with him, keeping him company late into the night, and end up falling asleep there, both of them too comfortable to protest.

But it would be different, Josh knew. Because being forced together by circumstances and choice were two totally different things. And it would be choice, because he could just take her home. He should just take her home. But he could also tell her to cancel his trip, and the two of them could take the weekend to relax, hang out as friends instead of boss and assistant like they had very few opportunities to do. It would be so easy.

"Josh?" she interrupted his thoughts again. She had stood up and was now standing near the door, coat on and his coat in her hand. "You ready?"

He blinked quickly a few times to clear his head before standing up and stretching, stiff from having sat for a while. "Yeah," he responded, meeting her on the other side of the room. He shrugged on his coat and grabbed his backpack as Donna flipped off the light switch. The bullpen was unsurprisingly completely empty by now, and Josh couldn't see any lights coming from the communications area either, so Sam and Toby must have gone home already too. The halls were eerily silent, a phenomenon that only occurred obscenely late or obscenely early in this building, as they made their way down the familiar hallways to the freedom of the outside world.

Donna waited while Josh searched his pockets for his keys and climbed into the passenger seat when he unlocked the car. Josh dumped his things behind the driver's seat before crawling in himself. He started the car quickly and waited for a minute for it to warm up.

"So…" he began while they waited. "I'll just take you back to yours then?"

"I appreciate it, thank you," Donna responded, as Josh finally put the car in gear and started to drive away. That wasn't what he was asking, and Josh wondered if she knew that. She was so good at reading him, was she aware of the thoughts making their way through his head? That even now he was still struggling with himself, with asking her again to come back to his, with the overwhelming desire to spend more time with her, to spend all his time with her?

He had to commit soon, in a few more lights he would turn left to take her back to her place, or right to head towards his. If he was going to ask again, it would have to be soon. He glanced at her, trying to read anything on her face, but she was looking out the window.

"Is your roommate gonna mind you coming in so late?" Josh tried again. "I mean, she could be asleep. If it's easier…"

"Hardly the first time I've left the White House after midnight," Donna responded, not looking back at him. "She's used to it. And besides, I don't even know if she's here right now. She might have gone home for the weekend or something."

Josh frowned at that. If her roommate was gone—and really, shouldn't Donna know that for sure? Didn't people talk to their roommates? Josh hadn't had a roommate since just after college, so he may have been a little out of touch on roommate protocol—and the majority of the senior staff was going out of town for the weekend, what was Donna going to do? He didn't want her to be alone if she wanted someone to hang out with.

"What are you doing this weekend?" Josh asked. "I mean, are you doing anything with the weekend off, like, with anyone?"

Donna looked at him strangely, before answering slowly, "No, nothing big planned. I mostly need to use the time to do laundry and catch up on some grocery shopping, nothing too exciting."

"If you, I mean," Josh stumbled, eyes fixed on the road. "I could stay back if you want someone to hang out with. If you wanted."

"Josh, you've been looking forward to this for weeks, of course you're going!" She startled him by putting her hand on top of his resting against the dashboard. He glanced over at her quickly, not for long enough to meet her eyes, but he could tell that she was looking at him intently now. "You hardly ever get time off like this, you should take advantage of it. And I'm looking forward to spending some time by myself. I'll be fine."

Josh nodded silently, flexing his hand that was on the steering wheel. She was right, of course. He had been planning this trip for forever, it seemed like. Tonight had been such a close call; had it not been for Donna's brilliance he would have had to cancel to stay behind and deal with whatever the fallout would have been from Stackhouse continuing to speak. It seemed silly after all that to stay home, and he really could use a vacation.

He moved his right hand from its resting place on the dash, breaking contact with Donna. It was too much at that moment, when he was trying to think rationally, to remind himself that he did want to go to Florida, when all he could think of was that he didn't want to spend an entire weekend with Donna states away. He could ask her to come with him? No, he couldn't do that. For one, she had made it perfectly clear how she felt about his weekend plans—there's nothing wrong with wanting to watch your favorite team in an exhibition game thank you very much—and he wouldn't want her to spend her time off doing something she didn't like. For another thing that would just be weird; he couldn't ask his assistant to go to Florida with him just because he thought he might miss her for a few days. Just like it would be weird for him to cancel the trip for the same reason.

And yet…

He was seriously considering doing exactly that. Huh.

It had been tugging at the back of his mind since their conversation in his office earlier—really, it had been tugging at the back of his mind for the better part of two years, but their conversation earlier had brought it closer to his consciousness than he was used to—just why spending time with her was so important to him. She was more than his assistant, of course she was. He had long since begun to consider her among his closest friends. But he wasn't getting bent out of shape about Sam going out of town for the weekend, in fact it wasn't even something he thought about. So what did it mean that all of a sudden the thought of spending the weekend at home with Donna was infinitely more appealing than watching the Mets play themselves in a game that doesn't count?

He knew, of course he knew. He wasn't going to admit it, wasn't going to say the words, but he knew.

And he knew that he couldn't go to Florida, not now. Because at that moment he felt the nudge that he'd been resisting for as long as he'd known her, the nudge urging him to take the leap, to take some leap, and if he waited, who knows how long it would be until he felt it again.

Mind made up, Josh took a steadying breath before hesitantly asking, "Donna?"

He waited for her to acknowledge him with a quiet, "hmm?" before continuing.

"If I asked you to cancel my trip this weekend, would you wanna order takeout, maybe watch a movie or something?"

He dared not take his eyes from the road, dared not even glance at her expression, just in case he didn't like what he saw. The intersection was coming up, the one where he had to choose. His hands gripped the wheel as though he was holding on for dear life as he waited for her answer, not even daring to breathe.

Finally, Josh heard her exhale, slowly, and she took him by surprise yet again when she reached over and took his right hand from its death grip on the steering wheel and held it gently between her own.

"I would like that," she said softly, and Josh felt the air rush from his body.

He turned right.