Bleary-eyed, I stumble to my apartment's front door. Ordinarily, I'd be kind of freaked out by loud noises in the middle of the night, but it's probably a safe bet that anyone trying to break in wouldn't be pounding on the door. Of course, it could be some weirdo pervert, banging on random doors in the hopes that someone will open up so they can expose themselves to unsuspecting women. And unsuspecting men, too, I suppose.

I pause before I get to the door, groping around in the dark for the baseball bat my roommate and I keep by the front door, feeling marginally reassured when my fingers wrap around the wood handle. The pounding starts up again, and this time I can hear someone's voice. I could be crazy, but I swear someone's mumbling my name.

I take a few deep breaths and try to steady myself. I'd like to think logically but it's two in the morning and someone's pounding on my front door and I'd rather not wake my roommate, though I'd doubt she's sleeping through this right now. It's bad enough that I'm keeping very strange hours at the White House and sometimes don't get in until late at night; I've succeeded in scaring her enough so she's called the police on me and I've stepped on her cats several times. I don't think Melissa hates me, but I don't know if she's very fond of me, either.

I squint out through the peephole, my mouth dropping open when I see Josh, his features distorted through the fisheye lens. Even from this angle, I can see he's leaning against the door with one arm, banging the other with alarming accuracy.

Leaving the chain lock in place, I turn the small series of bolts we have in place until I can pull open the door, trying my best to glare at Josh as the bright light of the hallway assaults my eyes. He just grins at me dopily. "Donna!" he exclaims, managing to drag my name out for several extra syllables. The smell of whiskey wafts through the small opening, nearly knocking me off my feet.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I hiss. "You're going to wake the whole building!"

His lower lip juts out, pouting at me. "I just wanted to say hello."

"In the middle of the night? How do you even know where I live?"

"Hey, I know things." His eyes flutter shut and he leans heavily against the door frame, and for a few moments, I think he's fallen asleep. His eyes open marginally a few seconds later, giving me an assessing look. "You live in a terrible neighborhood. I'm lucky I made it here alive."

"No one asked you to show up here in the middle of the night."

"Can I come in?"

"Josh, go home."

"Donna," he whines. "Please? I came all this way."

"Again, no one asked you to."

"Just for a few minutes. I just need some water and to sit down. I'm so tired."

"Of course you're tired," I mutter. "It's the middle of the night." I stare at him for a few seconds; he's swaying a little where he stands, his hair is mussed, his eyes are unfocused, and he's grinning at me from ear to ear, looking every inch like a sleepy little boy. It's too much for me to resist. "Fine." I close the door enough to undo the chain and allow him entry, grabbing onto his arm before he staggers face first into the coffee table. "You have to be quiet, though. If you wake my roommate, we'll both kill you."

"No problem. You won't even know I'm here. You won't even hear a peep out of me. I'll be so quiet you'll—"

"Josh."

"Yeah?"

"I can hear you peeping."

He snorts, almost jerking out of my grasp in his mirth. "I'm pretty sure that's illegal in at least forty states."

I roll my eyes and steer him toward the couch, letting him drop unceremoniously onto the cushions. "I'm going to get you a glass of water. Just…don't move, all right?"

"Can't move," he mumbles with a sigh. "Feet hurt."

"Why do your feet hurt?"

"It was a long walk from the bar to here," he answers, his voice bordering on that whine again.

"Wait—did you say you walked here? In the middle of the night? Are you insane?" This isn't the worst neighborhood in the city but it sure isn't the best, and there's no way I'd walk through this area at night alone, especially if I didn't have my wits about me.

"Well, I mean, I walked from where the cab dropped me, but it was a few blocks away. I gave the driver the wrong address."

All I can do at this moment is sigh. He looks so earnest, as if all of this makes sense. "Where were you even drinking?"

"We went to this place called the Hawk & Dove."

"We?" I ask, feeling a little hurt despite myself. "Who's we?"

"You know—we. Me and Sam and Toby and even CJ. We went out and had a few drinks."

I sit down on the arm of the couch, sulking despite myself. "And you couldn't invite me?"

His head drops back onto the cushion behind him. "You left hours ago."

"I left after nine. I was there late."

He just shrugs. "Not as late as the rest of us."

"If you were going to be at work, why did you let me go home? If you're there, I'm there." I hate that I'm offended by this, but I sort of thought I'd be invited to group outings. Maybe that was silly of me. I mean, I'm just an assistant. I'm not included in those meetings and the things that senior staff does. All through the campaign, Josh was really good about making me feel welcome and letting me tag along with everyone. No one seemed to mind me being there. I guess it's been a little different since we took office but we've all been so busy that there has been much time to consider that.

"We had a last-minute meeting with Leo and went out after. Everyone else had already gone home for the night. We didn't even get out of there 'til almost eleven."

"You got this wasted in just a couple of hours?"

He lifts his head, giving me an indignant look. "I am not wasted. I had a couple of drinks."

"And decided to come…here."

"Yeah, why not?"

"You didn't want to go home and sleep it off? Isn't the Hawk & Dove close to work and therefore close to your apartment?"

"I just wanted to say hi to you so…" He scoots a little closer to me, resting his chin on my thigh, "hi."

He smiles up at me, making my breath catch in my throat. He's looking at me in a way I'm not familiar with. His eyes are still bleary but he seems a bit more focused than a few minutes ago. The temptation to run my fingers through what has to be incredibly thick hair is almost overwhelming. My boss is cute—I'm not dead, I can acknowledge that much. But he's my boss. I have to work really hard to remind myself of that, especially now, when he's giving me a look that someone gives someone else when they want to get them naked. It's even more important to remember it now that he's in my apartment in the middle of the night, definitely tipsy if not fully drunk. I don't know how or why he wound up here, but I can't let myself read too much into it.

He rubs his chin on my leg, his hand coming up to hold onto my shin. I bite my lip. Everything in me is suddenly screaming out to throw caution to the wind and…what? Throw myself at him? Rip off my clothes? Lose a hand in his hair? I don't know how to describe it, but I'm suddenly very aware that we're two consenting adults in the middle of the night and—

"The hell!" Josh yells suddenly and I jump as I see my roommate's cat Bubbles land on his lap. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Josh, don't yell at the cat," I tell him, trying to keep my voice quiet.

"You don't just jump on people!"

The cat arches her back, hissing at Josh, and he lets out a yelp as the cat most likely digs her nails into his flesh.

"Shhh! You're going to wake Melissa!"

"Who the hell's Melissa?" he exclaims, trying to dislodge the cat without really touching her.

"My roommate, now shut up!" I stand and grab Bubbles, plucking her off Josh's lap. She immediately wiggles out of my arms, running through the dark apartment.

"Why is your cat trying to kill me?" he demands, no longer yelling but his voice is still way too loud for this hour.

"She's not my cat, she belongs to Melissa and you have to be quiet. I'm going to get you some water and then we're calling a cab for you." Before I can move, though, he lets out another yelp as this time Gonzo jumps on his lap, though this cat just starts to purr loudly and knead Josh's legs.

"How many of these creatures live here?!"

I let out a sigh, running my hand roughly through my hair. The truth is, I don't know Melissa all that well yet. We met up a couple of times before we became roommates but because our schedules are wildly different, we honestly haven't spent a lot of time together since I moved in here. We get along pretty well, but something like my boss showing up drunk in the middle of the night isn't going to win me any points.

"There are only two, Josh. Now please, I'm begging you, be silent for a few minutes." I pause, waiting to see if he's going to yell again, but he's suddenly entranced with the cat on his lap, scratching his ear's thoughtfully. I let out a breath and head to the kitchen to dig out a bottle of water. This is…weird. Undoubtedly weird. I've known Josh for over a year now and he's never done anything like this. Yes, I've seen him get tipsy, but I've seen most of the senior staff like that. He'd sometimes hang out in my hotel room on the campaign trail, but everyone did that. Everyone wandered in and out of room, entering midsentence as if they were already part of a conversation and leaving just as abruptly. Showing up wasted at my apartment in the middle of the night without an entourage of any sort is not something I'm prepared to handle. Holding onto my leg so gently is not something I'm prepared to handle. Josh looking up at me with what I can only describe as bedroom eyes is definitely not something I'm prepared to handle.

"What the hell, Donna!" I jump and turn around, not surprised to see my roommate glaring at me through half open eyes. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"I'm sorry," I answer in a whisper. "He just showed up. I'm trying to get him to leave or at least be quiet."

She rolls her eyes, looking disgusted. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"Of course not."

"A booty call, then?"

I actually sputter and choke for a few moments. "No! He's my boss."

Despite everything, she suddenly looks very amused. "Your boss…that just showed up here in the middle of the night drunk? Just your boss?"

"Of course. He's a little drunk and I guess—"

"Donna, no one who is just your boss shows up drunk at your apartment at 2am."

"Well, I don't know what you're implying, but—"

"This is what happens when I advertise for a roommate in the newspaper," she says, looking more amused than I would have expected at this time of night and under these circumstances. "Whatever his deal is, can you please shut him up? I don't want him yelling at my cats."

"Stop staring at me!" Josh yells suddenly. "I'm just trying to make the world a better place and you won't even let me do that. Stupid furry creatures."

Melissa lifts her eyebrow at me and I shrug helplessly. "I'm sorry. I'm trying to get him out of here."

"Whatever. If he keeps making this kind of noise, I'm calling the cops, I don't care who he is. He'll be lucky if someone has done that already." With that, she turns and disappears down the hallway, her door closing loudly. I let out a sigh and rub my forehead, trying to relieve the tension. I'm getting the feeling that Melissa won't be asking me to extend my stay with her when my lease is up next winter. CJ was kind enough to let me stay with her for a couple of weeks after the election, just so I could find a place and get on my feet and not be homeless at the same time. DC is way too expensive for me to afford on my own and I didn't want to abuse CJ's kindness for too long, so I was forced to live with someone who was almost a complete stranger, not that I told anyone the stranger part. Josh would probably flip out if he knew that I only met Melissa a few weeks before agreeing to live with her. Honestly, she's not bad, but I don't think our personalities mix well. Josh had actually offered to let me stay at his apartment while I searched for my own place, but even I'm not naïve enough to believe that would have been a good idea. I know he meant it innocently enough, but a single woman essentially living with her single boss? Danger, Will Robinson.

I grab the nearly forgotten bottle of water and go back into the living room. I can hear Josh mumbling under his breath, with the occasional "republicans" being loud enough for me to hear. He seems to be holding court with Bubbles and Gonzo, both cats staring at him with large, unblinking eyes from their perch on the coffee table.

"No more yelling," I say, sitting next to him as I pass off the water. "If you yell, Melissa's going to call the police. I'm sure you don't want to be seen being hauled out of my apartment in the middle of the night in handcuffs."

"We lost, Donna," he mumbles, sounding forlorn.

"We lost?"

"The vote! For the thing."

"What thing?"

"The thing we were working on today. We lost. The damn Republicans. The damn Republicans!" he repeats in a yell, startling the cats though not enough to make them scatter. "They went back on their word. How are we supposed to get anything done if we can't trust their word?" He lets out a sigh and drops his head onto my shoulder; my entire body tenses up.

"Josh…"

"This sucks, Donna. This shouldn't be so hard. I just want to make the world a better place."

Despite the fact that my heart is suddenly racing, I can't help but feel for him. I certainly don't have his level of security clearance but I do work directly with the Deputy Chief of Staff. I do research for him and I've been able to sit in on a few meetings, and there's a good deal of information that while it's not public knowledge, working in the White House gives me and a lot of the others at the assistant level clearance to know. We all help to keep things running.

He sighs, his breath hitting my neck, and I'm pulled from my thoughts. I've never been close to Josh like this. Sure, I've hugged him a few times. Everybody has hugged everybody over the last year. Most people do when they win something, and we've been lucky enough to have a lot of wins. But sitting like this, with his head on my shoulder and his side pressed against mine, is new. It's put me on high alert. It's put my body on high alert.

It's not escaped my notice that Josh Lyman is a very handsome man. He's boyish and impish and intense and sweet, and I'd be hard-pressed to not see it. None of that changes the fact that he's my boss and I'm really not supposed to feel certain things for him. That hasn't stopped me from having a crush on him. Lots of people have crushes on lots of people, though, and it's not a big deal. It doesn't mean anything. Crushes are triggered by all sorts of stupid things, including the way somebody commands a room or swaggers through the halls. I'm not going to act on it or anything. So the fact that the object of said crush chose my apartment of all places to stumble into while inebriated actually means nothing and I shouldn't read anything into it. He's just used to bouncing things off of me and needed another set of ears, even if it is the middle of the night.

It means nothing.

He snuggles into my side, his face pressing against my neck. "You smell nice," he mumbles, making my heart do things to which I'm not accustomed. Despite the fact that I've tensed up, having Josh cuddled up to me feels kind of amazing. It feels like it'd be easy to just sit here all night and see what happens.

That's a dangerous thought.

With that, I pull myself from his grasp and stand, trying to compose myself. "Look, Josh—"

I'm met with a snore. He's sitting in an awkward position—feet on the ground, torso parallel to the couch with his head on the arm of it—but he's dead to the world.

I pause for a few moments to consider my options, but the easiest, most obvious is to let him sleep it off here. Even if I could rouse him enough to get him into a cab, I don't know that he'd be able to stay awake long enough to get home. I could possibly call Sam to come pick him up, but the last thing I want to is get another person involved in this.

With that, I grab his legs and get as much of him on the couch as possible, pulling off his shoes in the process. I'm in enough trouble with Melissa as it is, the last thing I want to do is get her couch dirty. I grab the blanket off the back of the couch and barely have him covered before the cats hop up, making themselves comfortable on and around him. Josh mumbles a couple of times and smacks his lips and snores again.

This has been…interesting. He'll probably be gone when I wake up and I'll be able to pretend this was all a dream and that my boss wasn't sort of drunkenly coming on to me and that I didn't sort of like the idea of it.

My hand is halfway to his head before I realize what I'm doing and snatch it back. His hair looks tempting but that doesn't mean I get to touch it. In fact, I think it'd be a really bad idea to touch it right now. Instead, I force myself over to the door and lock everything up again, giving Josh one last look to make sure he's still asleep.

"You better not make a habit of this," I whisper. I head into my bedroom, hoping I can calm my heart long enough to get some sleep.

This is mostly inspired by the song of the same name by Plain White T's. I'm hoping it was part angst, part silliness. There might be more parts to this at some point, too, so who knows.