A/N: Some nice weekend fluff for you all! I don't feel too bad about exploring this story because I feel EDC and Formative Years are in pretty good places for little breaks, don't you guys? Everyone is happy and together, at least.

I'm glad you guys are interested in this story, because I've been binging Scrubs and this is where my muse keeps going! Also, shoutout to db for giving me the fantastic idea to include Carla in this story - I ran with it. If none of the rest of you have seen the show, don't worry about it, it won't be central to the story - it's just for fun!

Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! Love you guys!

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Josh wakes up to the sound of soft chatter and laughter. He inclines his head slightly to the left, a movement which is unusually strenuous for him, and finds his doctor conversing animatedly with his mother. He blinks a few times, and Dr. Moss's head snaps toward him as though she has a sixth sense.

"Josh! You're awake. That's good." She steps up to his bedside. "I was just talking to your wonderful mother."

"Great." He mumbles, certain that his physician is now armed with embarrassing anecdotes about him.

Ruth appears at Donna's shoulder. "I love this girl, Joshua. She's so funny! And so smart. You listen to her now, you understand me?" She points a finger at him sternly.

"You got it, mom."

Donna smirks. "I'm going to change your bandages now, as promised. Mrs. Lyman, if you want to..."

Ruth pats Josh's hand. "I'll be in the lobby. Leo is stopping by soon, I'll greet him."

"Thanks."

Donna waits until the door closes behind her. "Very charming woman, your mother."

Josh smiles dryly. "Yes, she's quite something."

"That's where you get it from, yes? The charm?"

"In all likelihood."

Donna presses a button on the side of his bed, raising him up slightly. She starts to pull down his gown, and he raises an eyebrow. "Getting right to it, huh?"

"I'm sorry, would you like me to buy you dinner first?"

"Yes, actually. I can understand how you'd be eager to undress me, but..."

"Relax. I've already seen it all, while you were unconscious."

He makes a face. "Great. That's just great."

She continues to smirk, fully pulling his gown down to his waist and moving his arm so she can examine his bandages. She prods his side gently before starting to pull up the medical tape. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

He dimples, watching the intent expression on her face. "Like what you see, huh?"

She snorts. "I meant because I see all sorts of people in various states of undress every day."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Take it however you want." She doesn't look up, concentrating on her task.

"So I've got a question, Doctor."

"Donna."

He smiles slightly. "Okay, Donna. I've got a question."

"Shoot."

"Why am I so goddamn tired? I've slept like ninety percent of my time here. It's infuriating."

"Your body went through some serious trauma." She says evenly. "It needs sleep to recover. In addition, some of your medications can make you drowsy, as can the decreased flow of oxygen, which is due to the damage you sustained to your lungs."

"Huh." He bites the inside of his lip. "When does that stop?"

"It's not an 'all at once' kind of deal, Josh. Gradually you'll find you have more energy and more stamina. Once you start physical therapy and we get you mobile, things will start to pick up. But don't expect it to be easy - things like taking a walk down the hallway will seem impossible at first."

"I see you're back on that 'this takes time' thing again, huh?" He mutters.

"I see you're back on that impatient thing again, huh?"

"Me? No, never. I'm the world's most patient patient." He gives her a winning smile.

She doesn't look impressed. "What's the rush, anyway? Don't you love seeing my shining face?"

"Oh, quite dearly, Donna. Quite dearly."

"Your stitches are healing quite well, you'll be pleased to know."

He goes on as though he hadn't heard her, "I just hate sleeping. It's a waste of time."

"I can assure you it's not." She presses a fresh gauze pad to his chest. "Let me guess, you don't sleep much normally, do you?"

"I don't need to. I'm what some might call a human anomaly."

"You're what I might call a workaholic." She attaches the bandages securely on all sides with medical tape. "It's good you're sleeping. I'm sure you've got a lot to make up for."

He sulks. "Your hands are cold."

"I'm wearing gloves."

"I can feel the chill through them."

"You're numbed."

"I'm just telling you how I feel. I'm supposed to do that, right?"

She gives him a pointed glare as she removes her gloves and starts to pull his gown back up. He assists as best he can. "I have poor circulation."

"You should see a doctor about that."

"You're really not very charming, you know."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I'll be back in a couple hours to check on you. You should get some sleep."

"You're evil."

She grins and strides out of his room, waving as she goes. "Bye, pumpkin patch."

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Donna marches into her patient's room with a stern frown. "Joshua."

Josh looks briefly away from the TV. "Mm?"

"The nurses tell me that you've been yelling at your TV again, and that your blood pressure is spiking."

He shrugs, looking unconcerned. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"I've already banned every news station from your TV. Did you manage to sweet talk some nurse into CSPAN? What did you do?"

He gestures at the TV. "I'm obeying orders, Doc."

She glances at the TV, which is tuned to ESPN. "Sports? Seriously?"

"It's baseball season. Don't worry, game's over, I'm calm."

"You're seriously one of those guys that yells at the TV over sports?"

"I'm... Impassioned."

"That's one word for it."

"You don't like baseball?"

She shrugs. "I'm more of a basketball fan."

He gives her a seriously disappointed look. "What's your team?"

"Pistons."

"You from Michigan?"

"Wisconsin. What's your team?"

"Basketball, Knicks. In general? The greatest sports team in history, the New York Mets."

"I'm banning the sports channels from your TV."

"No! Donna, c'mon, the fact that I was shot during baseball season and not some other time of year is the only thing that's keeping me from chewing my arm off."

She folds her arms. "You're from New York?"

"Connecticut."

"But-"

"My parents are from New York." He clarifies.

"And you like baseball."

"As all true Americans do, yes."

"You play?"

"I did in high school."

She smirks at the image of this. "Okay, Joshua. You can keep ESPN. But - and I mean this - if your blood pressure spikes over 160, I'm sedating you through the next Mets game. Are we clear?"

"Aye aye, cap'n."

"Have you seen A League of Their Own?"

"Is that that girls' baseball movie?"

"It's good. It taught me really all that I know about baseball."

He looks appalled. "You need some serious education. But, don't worry, I can provide it."

She shrugs. "You should watch the movie."

"Do I feel a deal coming on?"

She shakes her head, smiling. "I'm a very busy woman, Josh. I don't have time for a man to condescendingly lecture me on the history and significance of baseball."

"Not even one so charming as me?"

"Not even."

"That's too bad."

"Chin up, Lyman. There's no crying in baseball."

"Is that a reference?"

She shakes her head in scorn. "I'll try and get my hands on the movie."

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As Donna pulls into the parking lot outside GW, she notices a commotion near the main entrance. She squints as she passes, surveying the mass of people outside. She hadn't seen a crowd like this since the President's discharge, when the press had dissipated. After closer inspection, she sees that the crowd is composed almost entirely of women. Some appear to be as young as college students, others are well into middle age. And, as she understands it, the source of the commotion is that they're all trying to get into the building, armed with signs, cards, flowers and the odd balloon.

Shaking her head, Donna pulls into her parking space and uses the staff entrance. Before going to her locker, she stops at the nurses' station. "Carla."

Donna's best friend and nurse extraordinaire Carla Espinosa looks up from a chart. "Hey, what's up?"

"What's with the mob?" Donna asks, attempting to peer through the double doors to the noisy crowd outside. "We didn't somehow land some celebrity overnight, did we?"

Carla's eyes light up. "Glad you asked. It's your guy, actually."

"My what?" Donna asks, confused.

"You know, Josh Lyman. The one you're so preoccupied with." Carla smirks, having by now gauged that Donna's interest is more than simply professional. "Apparently he has a fan club."

"He has a fan club." Donna repeats, disbelieving.

"A pretty passionate one, too."

"But he's just... A government employee."

"One that apparently, over the course of his morning show appearances and campaign stops, has gained quite the cult following."

"That's insane."

"You're not the only one who's a sucker for dimples."

Donna aims a glare at her. "Why are they just showing up now?"

"The President is back at the White House, the shooter was caught, and the building has been secured, so that friend of his - the press secretary, CJ, you know? - she mentioned that he was here in her last briefing."

"Dear god." Donna mutters.

"Don't worry, security has it under control."

"Does he know?"

"You know, I think someone might've mentioned it to him. Plus, there's, you know, something else."

"What?"

Carla looks away coyly, starting back in on her chart. "Go get ready for rounds. You're late as it is."

Bemused, Donna hurries to deposit her belongings and report to rounds. After she completes her tour of the new patients and progressing cases, she goes to check on her remaining patients. She tells herself that Josh's chart landed on top of her pile by coincidence, but in truth, she might've alphabetized wrong on purpose. As she walks toward his room, she is hit with a rather overpowering smell. As she rounds the corner inside, all of her senses are attacked.

Inside the room, perched on every possible surface, there are flower arrangements, gift baskets, and other assorted offerings. Buried inside this mess, she can just barely see Josh, Ruth, CJ, and Sam.

"How did this happen, CJ?" She hears Josh whine.

"Your room number leaked online, Josh! I don't know how they did it. The internet crew are crafty."

"I feel like I'm drowning."

"They're trying to be nice. Hospital security has been informed of the problem, they're redirecting all deliveries to your home."

"I'll take care of those." Sam volunteers.

"They'll brighten up the place." Ruth adds.

"What on earth is going on in here?" Donna practically shouts over the chorus of voices and the equally loud colors.

From behind an extravagant arrangement of sunflowers, Josh smiles at her meekly. "Donna. I bought you some flowers, do you like them?"

His friends laugh, and even Donna looks a little amused as she rolls her eyes. "I'll be back with a few orderlies. We're clearing this out."

After the physically intensive labor of clearing Josh's room, Donna returns with her clipboard in hand, irritably flicking hair out of her slightly sweaty face. The room still reeks of flowers, but she'd called for a fan, so hopefully that'll work itself out soon. "So, you've got a fan club, huh?"

"Um, a small one, yes."

"How'd you manage that?"

"The charm." He says apologetically. "You know how it is."

"I don't, actually."

"What are you, jealous?"

She gives him half a smile. "I'm thinking of joining said club, actually."

He grins. "I'm sure they've got room."

"Some of the cards on those flowers were pretty sexually explicit, you know."

"Could you have a nurse bring those in? I'd like to do some light morning reading."

Donna purses her lips to keep from laughing, and leans in to check his vitals. "No more reading for you. Not after your little episode over string theory."

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"Donnatella."

Donna looks up from her routine changing of Josh's bandages to see that he has an unusually delighted look on his face. "What?"

"Your name is Donnatella."

She follows his gaze to see that he's looking at her ID badge, clipped to the pocket of her scrubs. "Oh. Well, yes, technically."

"Donnatella." He repeats, savoring the word. "That's a nice name."

"No one calls me that, except my parents."

"Donnatella." He says again, now sounding slightly giddy. "It suits you."

"I'd like to go back to Dr. Moss."

"It's too late for that now, Donnatella."

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This is so cuuuuute, I'm having such a good time. Look out for the next chapter either tonight or tomorrow!

If any of you are down for more Scrubs/Grey's crossover references, let me know ;) Can't wait to include more Carla!