A/N: Jim and Maggie are going to have their relationship dragged about through several seasons just like Josh and Donna from The West Wing. This is how I imagine something finally happening between them.

"James Tiberius Harper, you had better…" Maggie started in on him as she crossed the room towards his desk.

"For the LAST TIME, Maggie, that's NOT my NAME!" Jim shouted at her. So unexpected was this outburst that it derailed her rant.

"Is that- but I mean, is that really the point?" she faltered.

"Probably not," he snapped, "but I find I'm tired of being railroaded into hearing your points. Frankly, I'm tired of a lot of things lately."

"A lot?" she questioned, momentarily forgetting what she meant to say.

"Yes," he ground out. "A lot. Although mostly just this," here he gestured wildly back and forth between the two of them, "BULLSHIT."

She took an involuntary step back as though his words had physically assaulted her.

"Bullshit?" she whispered. She realized she was only parroting his words back to him, but she felt incapable of formulating intelligent responses. She was utterly confused by his reaction. He'd never cursed at her before. He'd never really fought back, even. This was not going according to tradition. He wasn't just taking what she threw at him. She was unsure how to proceed.

He continued on as though he hadn't even heard her weak interjection. "Another thing I would really appreciate is if we could have at least ONE of these 'discussions' not in the middle of the newsroom. Do you think we could maybe try that? Sniping at each other in relative privacy for once?" The sarcasm was apparent in his tone, and she thought how much worse it sounded when it was meant in seemingly real bitterness rather than friendly banter.

Without waiting for her to once again repeat what he'd just said, he grabbed her arm in a decidedly non-gentle manner and dragged her out of the newsroom and down the hall towards the elevator. He punched the button repeatedly and started pacing back and forth in front of her after releasing the bruising grip he'd had on her arm. She unconsciously began to rub her arm as he started speaking, but neither of them noticed.

"Ok Maggie, listen. I'm tired of you jerking me around." He rolled right over her attempt to interrupt him and ignored the outrage he saw on her face. "Yes, jerking. We're friends, we're more than friends, we're mad at each other, you're mad at me, you're mad at Don, Lisa's mad at me because you're mad at her, I just can't TAKE it anymore. This isn't normal. This isn't 'friendly.' I can't THINK when you're around. Or, maybe I think better. I don't really know. It's starting to affect how I do my job. And how you do your job. And how everyone around us does their jobs.

Don is around all the time, watching us. Don't you see that? Maybe you don't, because every time I see you, you're looking at me. But every time I see Don, he's looking at you. And then he looks at me, and frankly it's giving me a weird complex. Guys shouldn't look at other guys that much.

Did you know there's a betting pool going about our 'relationship,' or whatever the hell we're calling it this week? Whoever gets closest to the day we figure all this stuff out -again he gestured between the two of them- wins. If they correctly guess whether it turns out good or bad, they get a bonus. People don't know if it's going to turn out good or bad, Maggie. That doesn't worry you?"

He paused a beat, running his fingers through his already tousled hair, and she saw her opportunity to speak. "No," she began, "I didn't know there was a betting pool. I find that disgusting, and frankly I can't believe no one's told me about it yet."

"Well, they figured that would be counterproductive. Now that you know about it, though, if you want to go in halvsies with me, we kind of have the inside track, don't you think? Good or bad, how 'bout we put down a bet for, say, today. Is that working for you? I don't have much cash on me, but we're gonna win a lot no matter what. No one else's bet is even in the realm of today-"

"Right, no, don't think I'm going to be placing a bet today, Jim."

"Oh, well, ok. Do you mind if I go find Neal, then? I think he's running it and I wouldn't want to miss my chance-"

"JAMES TY-" At his instantaneous look of fury, she quickly cut herself off. "JIM. Get your shit together. We are doing this, and we're doing it now."

A chirping text notification interrupted her and both she and Jim glanced toward the sound, only to find that they were the focus of an entire elevator full of intently staring people.

"SHUT THE DOOR," Maggie and Jim yelled in unison. As a hand shot out to punch the button, a voice from the back asked, "So do you think it's too late to change my day? Does anyone know where Sampat is?" A smack was heard as the doors slid closed. Maggie was already in motion.

In a reversal of the actions of just a few minutes ago, Maggie grabbed Jim's arm and started herding him towards the stairwell. She figured they might actually be safe from an audience in there. They were on the 25th floor, after all. Only insane people took the stairs from there. As she pushed the door open and started to shove Jim through it, however, she realized that she was not the only person that had had that idea today.

"Come on, REALLY?" Maggie exploded. "Well," she then said to Jim, "I found Neal for you."

Startled by the noise of the door banging open, Neal instinctively raised his head from Kaylee's and turned around.

"You know, some of us wanted to use the stairwell for what it was INTENDED for, not just making out with our girlfriends!" Maggie hissed at Neal while Kaylee wiped her mouth and looked smug.

"Why didn't you take the elevator like normal people?" Neal countered while also wiping his lips.

"Oh, we don't want to actually 'use the stairwell for what it was intended for," Jim chimed in, making air quotations with his hands. "Maggie wants to yell at me but I insisted that she find a more private place to do it than the newsroom. But since I just happened to run into you, I wanted to make a bet. I have some money and I'm trying to convince Maggie to go in with me-"

"NEAL! Get out! Take your girlfriend to the control room or out onto the balcony. Better yet, stop making out with her during work hours. And," she said, glaring at him, "shut the pool down, or all those things you said about Sloan while you were trolling the economists' website will sound like compliments compared to the rumors I will spread about you. I have three older brothers, and I know how to fight dirty."

Neal, looking slightly scared of Maggie's mean face, grabbed Kaylee's hand and guided her out through the stairwell door.

"That's right, you better run," she called out the door after them.

"Should I also run?" Jim asked, looking a bit uneasy.

"NO," she shouted exasperatedly, and then repeated in a somewhat calmer tone, "no. You stay here. We need to talk. About this jerking you around thing…" but then she trailed off as if she'd run out of steam, finally. "I honestly didn't think that that was what I was doing," she continued after a long pause. "I have a boyfriend."

At Jim's raised eyebrow, she corrected herself. "Had a boyfriend, I mean." She experienced the sharp, stabbing pain in her heart that occurred every time she allowed herself to remember Don's confession. She thought about all the other women he'd dated besides her during the course of their long and admittedly tumultuous relationship. But now was not the time to rehash that. She forged on.

"And you, you HAVE Lisa. Your relationship is still a thing. I had him and you have her and this,"- here she copied his hand motions and waved her arms between them- "this shouldn't be a thing. IS not a thing. I can't jerk you around because there's no context for us to do any jerking regarding each other," she finished, suddenly refusing to meet his eyes.

Jim reached out and tugged her chin upwards, asking her without words to look at him. "But here's the thing, Maggie…"