"Hey Donna do you have the Midwest-"

"I gave it to you already." She leaned against his doorframe.

"You did?" He was surrounded by binders and piles it was a wonder he could find anything.

"I see it. Green folder under your left hand." He turned to his right. "Left hand, Joshua. Left. Left."

"Found it." He smiled sheepishly.

"It's getting late. Want to get something to eat before the mess closes?"

He chuckled. "Donna, I had 3 lunch meetings today. I'm not hungry." He shuffled a few pages around and opened another binder. "You should go get something real quick."

"I'm not hungry." She said. She coughed into the sleeve of her cardigan.

"Come sit, you can help me with this."

Early education was Josh's crusade of the week. He'd spent most of the day with the Department of Education, National Education Association, and Head Start, working through sob stories and statistics. The afternoon was spent buttering up bitter congressmen. Donna sat down across from him.

"Lobell tried to tell me this is the government raising children instead of the parents. That's such bullshit."

"Preaching to the choir." Donna mumbled.

"Listen to this! Listen! The average child from a professional family hears over 200,000 words per week, a working class family about 150,000. But children from families on welfare only hear 62,000 words per week. These kids start school behind-and that's not even talking about hunger and trauma and access to healthcare." He flipped through a few pages in his yellow legal pad and squinted at his own handwriting. "It actually changes their brains, Donna, being read to. Kids who can't read drop out of school. And Head Start isn't working-that's what I'm working on now."

He pointed at one of his binders and smiled. "This is it. Universal preschools, fixing Head Start. This is what's going in the history books about President Bartlett, Donna! This could be his shining achievement: rescuing millions of American kindergartners from poverty and illiteracy and-and-and mediocrity!" He ran his hands through his hair again, making it stand up more than it was. When Josh was buzzing with excitement and curiosity, he resembled a cartoon character who'd been struck by lightning.

He expected Donna to jump into this conversation. She'd reply to his statistics with random trivia, or maybe tell a rambling story about her own school experience: learning to read Clifford the Big Red Dog or copying her friends' algebra homework to avoid failure. She'd grill him on his plans and be the sounding board for his half-assed ideas.

But she didn't say anything. She was staring at the filing cabinet, gently rubbing her temple with her fingers.

"Well?" He said impatiently.

"Mm...sounds great." She said.

"Hey," He said. "You okay?"

She looked up. "Yeah." She sighed and turned towards him. "Just not feeling very well." She admitted.

"Want something to drink?"

She nodded. "That'd be great. My throat is killing me."

He handed her a bottle of water and opened himself a bottle of Guinness.

"Really?" She said

"What? Sometimes at midnight I switch from caffeine to alcohol. It's how I got through law school."

Neither of them pointed out it was only quarter to 11. She took a sip of water and rubbed her head. "How old are you?"

"41." He took a sip of his dark beer.

"It's a miracle you've made it this far."

"Says the one who's sick."

"I'm fine. What do you need help with?"

He handed her a binder and started rambling about literacy rates and statewide trends and demographics. "We need to hit them between the eyes with proof!"

Donna nodded. She pulled a hair tie from her wrist, piled her hair up into a messy bun, and began to read. It was rare for them to be so quiet; except for the habitual nervous tapping of Josh's pen and Donna's muffled coughs, their office was still for the better part of an hour.

"Dammit I'm going cross eyed with all this." Josh slammed his memo down. He pointed at something on the page. "Is that a 6 or an 8?"

Donna leaned forward to see, then turned her head and sneezed. Josh raised an eyebrow.

"You...sure you're okay?"

"It's just a cold." She said, rubbing her nose.

"You don't look too good." She rested her head on her arm again, like sitting up took too much energy.

"Gee, thanks, Josh, you really know how to boost a girl up." Her voice was getting hoarse.

He reached across his desk and gently touched her cheek.

She jerked back. "Stop! Your hand's freezing!"

"Donna, go home." He said. "You're sick."

"I'll leave when you leave. This is important."

He sighed and looked at the mess of papers and his illegible notes. "I can get it done." He had about 40 documents. They'd read 17.

"Get some of the interns to help you. Or someone from DOE. You're so stubborn."

"I've talked to the DOE and the NEA all day. And I need it done the way I want it. This is-this is it, Donna. This is—"

"I know, I know, going in the history books." She said, then coughed into her sleeve for several moments. "Ugh." She closed her eyes.

Josh stood up. "Come on, you're dead on your feet." He said. "I'll walk out with you. I need to clear my head."

"Me too." She sniffled. "My brain is drowning in snot."

"Gross."

He stood quietly with his hands in his pockets as he watched her shut down her computer, blow her nose, then gather her coat and purse.

"Hey, why don't you sleep in tomorrow?" Josh said.

"What?" She turned and slowly slid her jacket over her shoulders.

"Actually, just take it easy tomorrow. Take the whole day."

"Are you—"

"I think I can manage without you for 36 hours."

"Okay but...hang on." She put her purse down and began writing on a post it.

"What are you doing? We were leaving."

"If I don't leave instructions, you'll be calling me at home tomorrow, which will negate the whole resting concept."

"Really I'll be—"

She stuck the post it and her scheduling notebook on a desk near hers. "Bonnie's out of town for a wedding, so the other secretaries are swamped too." She pointed at the desk. "Jason sits here. He's an intern. He's 23, taking a gap year before law school. He's a great guy. Go to him if you need anything tomorrow."

"I don't need babysitting." He said. "I'm sure we'll be alright. Now go. Home. Medicine. Bed."

Donna sighed, which made her cough again. Josh gently put his hand on the small of her back as they walked quietly through the empty halls.

"Have you felt bad all day?" He asked quietly.

"I've been sick all week." Donna said. She leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked. "I...I woke up with a scratchy throat over the weekend and it just...kept getting worse."

"Well, I'm an ass." Josh said.

"What?" They waved goodnight to the door security as they stepped out into the cold night.

"I didn't notice until tonight that you're feeling bad. I've been so...obsessed with this education thing I haven't noticed that you're a feverish zombie."

"I'm a big girl, Joshua." She pulled her coat tighter around her. "I can take care of myself."

"You...you would've notice if I was sick." He said.

She dug around in her purse for her car keys. "It's kind of my job."

"No." He said. "Your job is to answer my phone and make my schedule and do my filing. But you...bring me dinner when I haven't eaten all day, when I don't ask, because you know I forget to eat."

"Mmhmm." she said, sidestepping a patch of grey, slushy snow.

"You took care of me every damn day for months when I couldn't even stand up after Rosslyn. The least I could do is give you some time to sleep off a cold."

She opened her car door and slowly got in. "Appreciate it." She said. "Don't stay here all night."

"Hey, Donna?"

She rolled down her window. "What? I'm going home."

"Call me when you get there?" He could see his breath in the icy night. "I wanna know you made it okay."

She nodded. "Goodnight, Joshua." she said hoarsely.

"Feel better!" he called after her car. He stuck his hands in his pockets and trekked back to his office.