He threw his coat over the chair by the door of the apartment. He missed. A rather expensive overcoat lay crumpled on the floor next to a couple of umbrellas. The apartment was unbearably clean. He literally could not remember the last time he had been home. Not that it really mattered, the campaign would be rolling out in less than a day and he was only here for sleep and clothing.

Josh fell face-forward onto the couch, leg landing on a pocket full of crap. Groaning in pain, he turned slightly and furiously removed all of the offending objects – pens, cell phone, notepad, jelly beans, pda – and dumped them onto the floor. Finally, he relaxed. For about two seconds. Then he saw his phone - picked it up, flipped it open, and started playing a lovely game of going through missed, incoming, and outgoing calls, then using them to make a mental list of things to do, people to call, or people to avoid at all cost. His eyelids drooped.

The apartment was dark but for the glow of his phone. Going through his contact list – that would put him to sleep for sure. Except for not. He was almost out. Almost asleep - but D is so close to the front of the alphabet. Pressing his shoulders further into the couch, Josh squinted at the small screen.

"Might as well," he muttered, nibbling lightly on his bottom lip and pressing the send button.

"Hello?" her voice was feeble and tired.

"Hey."

He tried not to say anything stupid. She knew it was him – he was sure she did. Josh waited. He needed to do this.

"Hi."

Ok, this was weird.

"Is this too weird?"

"Josh…"

"I'm sorry, I just – I – we're here for awhile and I thought I would, um – I thought I would at least call to say - - "

"You don't have to do that."

"No, but I should, and I want to. I'm sorry. You know that."

"Yes Joshua, I know that, so why are you calling at 2 in the morning to tell me?"

"I – well, its just … I need to see you."

"Ok."

"What?"

"I said ok."

"Yeah - Did you understand what I said?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sending a cab for you."

He snapped the phone shut. Trying to ignore his own idiocy, he did as he said, then began to frantically clean his spotless apartment.

30 minutes later, he watched her walk from the cab. A bit of a role reversal, he thought, running a hand nervously through his hair as he stepped quickly back from the door. He let her knock – still trying to play it cool.

"Hey" he leaned against the door frame.

"Hi"

"Come in?"

"Might as well"

He held open the door, studying her closely – noting differences from the last time they met, the last time they worked together, the last time they actually had a conversation.

"Donna, look – when I said that I - - "

"It's really clean in here. I mean, wow, I've never seen your place this clean."

"Donna -"

"Did you hire someone new to clean around here? Because whoever you had before didn't clean like this, I mean it's actually spotless in here."

He grabbed her – not belligerently, but forcefully by the shoulders.

"Donna – listen to me. Please just shut up for a minute, and listen to me."

She stood silently.

"What I said last week in the interview or whatever it was. I meant that."

"Josh-"

"When I said I missed you. Every day. I meant that. Then I was, I guess, sort of rude– then I let you walk away which again was sort of on the rude side, then -"

"I know. It's – it's ok, Josh."

"No, Donna, it's not ok, because this – this with you is really important to me."

"Last time I checked, there wasn't really any 'this' with me and you, Joshua"

"First of all, Donatella, you quit your job- and I already acknowledged my horribly rude tendencies, so lay the hell off. Secondly, maybe there should be."

"Pardon me?"

"A 'this'. An 'us'. Maybe there should be one."

She pressed her tear-filled eyes closed, opened them, and stared up at him. They were closer now. Josh hadn't let her go. He leaned in closer, resting his arms around her waist.

"Donna, I want you to know that-"

"Shut up. Please."

And he kissed her. She pressed her body against his, wrapping her arms firmly around his neck. He shivered at the feeling of his skin on hers. He felt drunk – he couldn't see clearly, everything was blurred. Somehow they found the couch. Josh landed slightly on top of her, listening to the tiny, breathy, adorable sighing noises Donna made as he kissed her neck.

Both were fumbling, grabbing, attempting to find straps and zippers – too many years of sexual tension – he couldn't breathe. He was gasping for air – drowning.

He sat straight up on the couch. The room was black. He was alone. He was sweaty, out of breath, extremely aroused, and completely alone.