"Will Bailey!"

He wasn't wearing his glasses when he opened the door, all he could see was a blur of blue, black, skin and brown hair. Josh had jeans on, Will surmised, and a black sweater. If he had glasses on, he would see how hastily the ensemble had been put together. The fly wasn't even buttoned all the way up.

Will leaned to the side of the door. Not being able to see made him braver than he normally would be. "What do you want, Josh? It's like two in the morning."

Josh barreled into Will's room. "You're used to White House hours, Will. What's the matter, getting soft on the road?"

"I don't need to stand here and listen to you bitch, Josh." Will let the door shut and went to the night stand to get his glasses. Even without them, he could see anger bursting out of blurry Josh like daggers. It probably wasn't smart to have let him in the room. Will then remembered he hadn't let Josh in the room.

"Actually, yes, you do." Josh's voice was calm, unlike the furious pounding on the door a few minutes ago. He looked messy but determined, not unlike how he always looked, but Will detected something that made his stomach flip-flop. Simmering rage.

"Do you know what I've been doing all-night, Will? Do you? I've been taking care of Donna. Do you know what she's been doing all-night? Crying. Well, no, she's actually been sobbing all-night." Josh's decibel rose with every sentence. Will actually had to tell his knees not to shake. "She thinks you're going to fire her."

Will was no stranger to rage. He felt his own emotions begin to boil, but he knew the best thing was to remain calm. "That's not my call to make."

"Don't bullshit me."

"And it's not like the inner workings of the Russell campaign are your business, Josh." Will couldn't make his voice go down. "In fact, they are extremely not your business."

"This isn't about the campaign. This isn't about politics."

"Then what the hell is it about?" Will yanked a chair away from the table and sat down. He really wanted sleep, but first he felt like throwing up. Or running back to Orange County as fast as his legs could carry him.

Josh rapped the silent television set a few times with his fist. "It's about Donna and it's about the fact that you are jealous..."

"Oh, is that right?"

"You wanted to have the same relationship with her that I had. That's what you told her in New Hampshire, back when she got hired. What were your exact words... "I think we can be as close as partners as you and Josh were"... As close, huh?"

"I meant working relationship."

"And what do you think that "working relationship" was to us over the years, Will? Do you have any idea..."

'Yeah, I have some idea." Will wanted to kill, kill Donna for telling Josh that. Of all the things to say... and, in a way, it proved his point. Donna couldn't really be trusted now that she was with Josh. What else had she said to him, about Will, about Russell? He didn't want to fire her, didn't want things to be this way. But she had made this choice, not Will.

"No, you really don't. You wouldn't fly to Germany to be at her side, you wouldn't fly to Michigan to be at her side. And do you really think that one presidential campaign could compete with two campaigns, seven years at the White House, hearings, kidnappings, me getting shot..." Josh's voice trailed off and his face contorted for a second. "Do you have any idea what we went through?"

"I was there for some of it." Will's palms had begun to sweat. They were making marks on the wood table.

Josh laughed without humor. "Hardly. You helped me throw a few snowballs at her window once."

"What the hell do you want, Josh?" Will stood up and began walking towards Josh. Without shoes, he was considerably smaller and he tried not to feel intimated. So far, it wasn't much working. "Whether or not Donna keeps her job has nothing to do with you."

"Actually, it has everything to do with me if you're going to fire her for being with me."

"I can't technically do that."

"You're damn right you can't."

"But I can if it becomes detrimental to the campaign, which it will!" He hadn't meant to shout the last part, he really hadn't. Josh's eyes were extremely wide and the side of his mouth was twitching slightly.

"Donna and I don't talk about the campaign..."

"And how would anyone know if you did or didn't? And why should I believe you? Or her?"

"Hell, Will," Josh's teeth were clenched and his hands were in fists. "Call me a liar any day of the week but don't you dare question Donna's integrity."

"Why shouldn't I?" Will was pacing the short area he had in the room. Josh had really claimed most of it, standing in the space between the bed and the television. "I know she's told you things. You've told me tonight the things she's told you. And this is just like you. The perfect political operator. Find some woman to sleep with on the opposing campaign and have her..."

The taste of blood filled Will's mouth. He had just been talking, yelling and then there was blood dribbling down his chin. Blood on Josh's fist. Josh who was now two inches away from Will's face. Will brought a hand up to touch the place where Josh's fist had connected. Josh's eyes were small and surpentine and too close to Will's. The glasses did nothing to diminish or protect.

The voice coming out of Josh's mouth was very low. "First, I would never date someone just to win an election, so that shows how little you know me and apparently how little you think of me. Second, I am not the perfect political operator. My relationship with Donna isn't good politics for anyone, never has been. But you know, I don't care. I don't really care. Because Donna is far more important to me then this campaign, this election, my candidate, your candidate, anyone's candidate. And she'll always be. She'll always be more important than my career and I know you don't understand that. Because nothing is more important you than your precious career and electing Bingo Bob or a dead man to office, not that there's a difference between Bingo Bob and a dead man."

Josh backed away a few feet and released Will's shoulders. Will hadn't even realized that Josh was gripping his shoulders and shaking them. The bleeding had stopped, but his jaw felt unbelievably sore.

Josh continued talking, massaging his fist. "You are jealous Will, not only because I have Donna but because I have something that means more than my career. I feel sorry for you. I used to be you. But now I'm not anymore and I can't even understand why I put my career ahead of her for so many years..."

"I can't believe you fucking punched me," Will ground out. He strode past Josh, as confident as he could with his legs shaking and went into the bathroom to get a towel.

"Of course you don't," Josh laughed, almost heartily, and Will thought for a second that Josh had lost his mind. "Because punching you isn't good politics, so you don't understand. It won't help Santos win, so you don't understand why I would do that. Jesus Christ, are you just a machine?"

Will came out of the bathroom. "Machines don't bleed when you punch them."

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not." Will sighed at sat down on the bed. "Look, I realize that you love her and that she loves you. I realize that and normally, I wouldn't care. But I am that guy now and I need to care and you would have cared, too. I'm trying to win an election, that's what I'm trying to do. And so are you and so is Donna. You two can play Romeo and Juliet until the crows fly home, but you're doing it on my dime and so I get to have a say."

"There's always been someone's fucking dime!" Josh screamed. Will recoiled in horror. "And we certainly behaved ourselves for eight years. You ever love someone for eight years, Will? Eight years and you're never able to touch them, to kiss them because if you did they'd get fired or you'd get fired or there'd be some scandal that the administration just couldn't afford? We stayed apart eight years for Jed Bartlet and Leo McGarry. But you aren't them and this isn't the White House."

"You're making arguments about love and this isn't about love, this is about politics, pure and simple."

"This is only about love, Will. It's sad to me that you really can't see that." Josh made to exit. Nothing had been resolved, but he looked a bit better. Will surmised that hitting him had helped Josh's mindset. He knew that whatever was happening between Santos' campaign manager and his own staffer wasn't just a rumble between the sheets. But he had really no idea...

"And it disturbs me to see Josh Lyman this far gone."

"This far gone..." Again, Josh gave a bitter laugh. "Will, you really don't get it. The only reason I'm upset... I don't care what you do to me, do to Santos, do to Russell, whatever... but you hurt Donna... you hurt Donna... she cried herself to sleep. And that's all I've been thinking about this entire time, is that you hurt her. And you better not do it again."

"Is that a threat?"

"Yes." Josh threw open the door. "For the last time, Will, this isn't politics, this is love. You think I'm vicious in the political arena? Well, I've found something that means more to me than that. You hurt her again, I swear to God, you'll wish you were a dead man instead of running a campaign for one." Josh went into the hall.

The door shut.