A/N: Sorry about the delay in this new entry into our story. Personal traumas occurred and it had taken quite a bit of creative flow out of me. As it is in some cases, my 'muse' as it were returned in a rush one late Thursday evening and here I am. Needless to say, I appreciate all the reviews I have received and thank you for your encouragement to continue onward. OK, now, stop me if you've heard this before. I do not own any of these characters...oh, you have heard it. OK.

MR GALLO GOES TO WASHINGTON

Based on characters created by Steven Levitan

Maya Gallo lay in bed, tired but unable to sleep. Thoughts tramped through her mind like a herd of stampeding cattle, just as loud and just as hard to round up, keeping her awake and giving her an odd sense of discomfort.

So many things had happened in the last twenty-four hours that she was only now beginning to sort them out.

First, there'd been the visit to her apartment by her father, who apologized about his actions and practically begged her to return to the magazine. It had been an odd and slightly disconcerting visit--her father rarely ever begged. She'd, of course, accepted--on the grounds that Dennis Finch also be brought back.

Secondly, there'd been the phone call from Dennis, saying that Jack had asked him to return to the magazine as well. The call became one of almost an hour as they talked about Jack's change of heart, about that one bad day and about an amazing poll that had appeared in the NY Times that had Jack actually starting to gain in the campaign. It had said a faltering economy had begun to hurt the incumbents and this was starting to add fire to even the weakest of opposition, a definition that suited the Gallo for Congress campaign to a 't'. The conversation was full of laughter and warmth and she suddenly felt the strange, yet oddly comforting, urge to crawl through the phone and curl up beside the source of the warmth on the other side.

Then, there had been just a few hours ago. The sudden, frightening rush of feeling that told her that maybe...no, definitely...she wasn't in love with the man sleeping beside her. Cal, as usual, slept with his back to her, oblivious to everything, apparently content with the world. He'd commented before rolling over and going to sleep that that evening's lovemaking had been 'the best so far'. She wondered what he'd have done if he'd known the reason, that being that in her mind she wasn't having sex, she was making love, and it wasn't with him, but with Dennis Finch.

She suddenly felt the incredibly strong feeling that she wanted to be somewhere else. It had come in a flash, with a suddenness that was frightening in and of itself. She didn't want to be here, with him.

She jumped out of bed and quickly dressed. Grabbing her keys, she raced out of the bedroom, through the front room and she had just reached the door when the phone rang, making her jump, then freeze where she was. Sweat popped out on her forehead as she listened. She prayed that he'd stay asleep, so as not to force her to explain things.

After what seemed like forever, the answering machine picked up.

"I can't come to the phone right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you."

The machine beeped and the other end relieved all of Maya's fears.

"Hello, Cal," a woman's voice said, "This is your wife..."

There were few things that Dennis Finch hated more than ringing doorbells late at night. As he crossed the living room, he tried to force his sleep clouded mind to think of one, but it failed. Even listening to Nina's stupid Studio 54/Liza Minelli story was, at that moment in time, more acceptable.

"Hold on, hold on, I'm coming."

Reaching the door more out of memory than anything else, he unlocked the door and threw it open. Standing before him was Maya.

"Dennis," she said, her voice shaking, "I just left Cal, I'm sober and I don't want to be alone. Can I stay here tonight?"

She misunderstood his silence as the beginnings of refusal, and she began to physically shake. "Please, Dennis..."

He shook the last of the cobwebs out of his head and said, "Yeah, sure. Come in. What time is it?"

He squinted at a clock that told him it was one am. Rubbing his eyes, he watched Maya walk past him and stand, uncertain, in the middle of the room. She seemed almost childlike in her confusion.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she apologized.

He shook his head. "No, no, don't. It's OK. You need anything?"

"Well...yeah, I do. You remember that weekend?"

"Uh, yeah."

She paused, unsure of how to continue, then decided that she owed it to him to be straightforward. As she did, she suddenly felt a ridiculous rush of emotions. Betrayal, relief, anger at the man she'd just left, and...she tried not to admit it to herself, but yes, that was what it was...love for the man standing across from her in a pair of cat covered pajamas, and they came out as a rush of tears.

"Can you hold me like you did then?"

He froze in place and for a minute, she was afraid she'd insulted him or that he'd try some godawful lecherous move that would crush her beliefs in him. Instead, she nearly jumped for joy inside when the smile, the warm one, appeared on his face and he said in his Maya tone, "I understand. And yes, I will."

An hour later, both Dennis and Maya were asleep in his bed. She slept in her clothes, he in his pajamas. She was curled up beside him, his arm around her head and shoulders, hers lying across his stomach. As they both drifted off, each had the same thought, one they would never admit to the other.

"So, this is what it's like. I could get used to this."

A/N: I promise that, eventually, we'll return to the main point of this story, namely getting Jack to DC, but I thought I'd throw this in to see how everyone likes it. It's not exactly romantic, but it's something I had to write. Don't be too harsh with me. Until next time, dear readers...