A/N: Surprise! I bet you all thought I'd forgotten about this little fic. But, dear readers, I have not. Here I am, updating it; perhaps a year or so too late, but nevertheless ;)

Hope you enjoy! The final chapter(s) should be up later this week! (Which would make this my first finished story! Knock on wood!)

Rating: T...?

Disclaimer: If I owned the rights to the West Wing, the entire show would've just been me holding Josh and Donna dolls and going "now kiss!"

Reviews: Yes please! You guys have been so kind already, and I am so lucky to have readers like you :)

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Josh walks out of his first meeting of the day, ready for a break, only to be hailed by Sam two feet down the hallway.

"Hey, Josh! Wait up!"

He pauses for Sam to catch up. "Hey. What's up?"

"Bruno's in the Oval, they want you in there."

He nearly groans. "Great."

"Yeah, I know. Only another week though, ya know?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't even want to think about it, quite honestly."

"Yeah. Alright." Sam watches him out of the corner of his eye for a ways down the hallway, his gaze only becoming conspicuous upon tripping on the carpet. "Ow."

Josh raises his eyebrows. "Walk much?"

"Hey, Josh, umm." He proceeds cautiously, watching his feet for more reasons than one. "I've, uhh, noticed you spending more time out of the office."

Josh bristles. "If you've got a problem with my hours-"

"No, no! God, no. It's just... I'm glad you're getting out, some. You've needed the break, is what I'm saying."

He relaxes slightly. "Oh. Okay, yeah."

Sam attempts to conceal a smile. "Are you seeing someone?"

Josh has a terrible poker face; the slow grin spreading across his face says it all. "Or something like that."

"Hey, I'm glad. As long as it's not, you know, a problem."

Josh rolls his eyes. "It's not like that, Sam. No more one night stands for me, pal. I'm a changed man."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. This is... Different."

The look on his face is like one Sam had never seen before. "Different how?"

"Different, like... We made pancakes together, Sam." He says, as if that's the only way to explain it.

Sam can't help a small laugh. "That's adorable."

Josh glares at him sharply. "I have a meeting."

"I'm happy for you, Josh."

"Thanks." With a slight smile, he turns off the hall.

It had been three weeks since he'd walked into Donna's office, and they'd hardly gone three days at a time since then without seeing each other. They'd eaten together. They'd helped each other with work. They'd talked to no end. They'd even gone to the movies once; he hadn't even known there was a theater near his apartment.

Things had been strictly platonic (or as strictly as things could be, between the two of them), but it was... Something.

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"And we're prepared to call a landslide victory for incumbent Democratic Congressman, Ian Randy. The Congressman will keep his seat in the Michigan Fifth."

The office erupts with cheers, drowning out the latter half of the reporter's statement. It's early on election night, a remarkably early call (though not one that they hadn't anticipated), and Congressman Randy's Michigan office is teeming with people ready to spend the rest of the evening celebrating. They'd watch the rest of the election coverage, sure, but with light hearts and ample refreshments. A wave of hugs and high fives ripples across the room for minutes to come, and Donna's roped in by Jen, Drew, the Congressman and his wife, and a few others she'd grown close to. By the time the chaos dies down, her heart is full to bursting.

That's when she hears her phone ring. If it had rung any other time within the past five minutes, she has no doubt that she wouldn't have heard it. Nevertheless, the persistent ringing draws her away from her beaming coworkers, and she leans against a wall with a hope for some semblance of audibility.

She smiles at her Caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Congratulations."

She grins. "You heard?"

"Heard? I've been tracking the news coverage, course I heard."

"But I mean... You called."

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

"I just... Thought you'd be busy."

"I am. God, I am. But I... I wanted to say congratulations."

If anything could've made the moment better, it's this. "Thanks, Josh."

"You worked hard on the campaign. You did well. And I just wanted to let you know... I mean... I wanted to tell you that-"

"What?" She's forced to shout over the background noise on both ends.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm proud of you."

She hears that loud and clear. "Oh, well I... I joined a winning campaign, we got sixty-eight percent of the vote-"

"Ah, shut up. You did great. Leo's thinking of bringing you on to replace me, seriously."

"You talked about my campaign with Leo?"

"Yeah. He's proud of you too, Donna, really. Everyone is."

She might be blushing, she might be tearing up, she's really not sure. "He... Oh. Thanks."

"Yeah."

She imagines him in the middle of the hectic campaign office, standing stock still with the smile she can hear in his voice.

"How are things on your end?"

"Oh, ya know... Crazy. Stressful. Not as easy of a call as yours was, sorry to say. But if you'll turn on your television, you'll see we're getting nearly as much press coverage."

She rolls her eyes. "We'll be up on this, won't we?"

"For a while."

"Do good."

"Yeah."

"Good luck."

"Don't jinx us now, Donna Moss. Go outside, turn around three times and spit."

"Josh..."

"You'll tempt the wrath of the whatever-"

"-from high atop the thing." She supplies dryly. She'd spent far too much time with the superstition twins. "Yeah, yeah."

"Hey, uhh, you're flying back tomorrow, right?"

She smiles slightly. "Yeah, why?"

"I don't know, do you want to... We should do something."

"We should."

"To celebrate."

"Okay."

"Like what?"

"Well, you could take me out somewhere nice. Expensive, you know. Champagne, dessert, the works."

"Yeah, yeah. How bout takeout?"

"And a movie?"

"That too."

"Okay."

"High standards, eh?"

She grins, enjoying this conversation far too much. "...In some regards."

And with that, she hangs up to watch his handiwork on television. She was proud of him, too.

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"It's too early."

"It's never too early for Christmas."

"Yes, it is. Take now for example."

"Oh, Josh. You're such a spoil sport."

"If by that you mean Jewish-"

"This is hardly a Christmas movie, anyway."

He stares at the back of her head from where he stands in the kitchen, retrieving beer. She doesn't turn to look at him, absorbed in the opening scenes of It's a Wonderful Life. "Yes, it is."

"Well, fine. Don't watch it with me then."

Smirking, he heads into the living room and passes her a bottle. "This is my house. Where would I go?"

"I don't know, anywhere else. It's cold outside, but I'm sure a walk would be invigorating." She gives him a slight smile, eyes darting away from the screen only briefly.

"Trying to get rid of me?"

"Now that you've paid for dinner, you're just dead weight, really."

"I think I'll stick around, if only to irritate you."

"You're succeeding thus far."

"I live to serve."

"Hmph. I'm going to go get changed." She stands and treads around the back of the couch, toward his room.

He twists around awkwardly to look at her, raising his eyebrows. "Into what?"

She gestures down at her clothes as though this should be obvious. "Something more comfortable."

One corner of his mouth quirks up. "Now, I don't know if you missed this earlier, but again, this is my house-"

"Point being?"

"The clothes in the dresser, therefore, are-"

"Your clothes."

"Look at those deductive reasoning skills you've got going, Sherlock."

She cracks a smile, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. "Sharing is caring, Watson."

And with that, she leaves the room. He's left grinning like a shmuck at the movie he hadn't wanted to watch.

When she returns, his eyes take a brief detour from the screen to watch her approach. Inconspicuously, of course.

"You're staring."

"No I'm not."

"I get it. I wear it better than you do, but honestly, Josh, that could be said of almost anything."

Okay. He's staring. She curls up on the other end of the couch, and he can't seem to drag his eyes away from the expanse of leg that had previously been covered, which is now... Uncovered. He coughs. "It's been awhile."

She furrows her brow. "It's been awhile since what?"

"Since you raided my closet and camped out on my couch."

She looks down at her beer, swilling the amber contents distractedly. A light blush creeps onto her cheeks, and she smiles. "I've still got the spoils of war."

"What?"

"I've still got a pair of boxers, some pajama bottoms, and a sweatshirt."

It makes him grin, just thinking of her tugging them on at night. Months apart, and she would've had to think of him every time she opened her dresser. It threatens to melt him now, looking at her messy hair and filched, oversized Harvard T-shirt.

"You're a thief."

She meets his eyes to realize he's joking. "I quite like this shirt..."

"Yeah, me too, so paws off."

She grins, eyes back on James Stewart. They fade into a comfortable lull of silence, and occasionally he'll turn to watch her watching attentively. He should be watching as well, really, but the past few weeks, and past few days especially, have been taxing. He's celebrating his own victory, too, and maybe this is him allowing himself contentment.

At some point during the movie, he drifts off. By the time he comes to, Donna is asleep on the other end of the couch, and the end credits have long since ended. He looks around, still dazed, and catches a glimpse of the DVR clock. 1:37.

He weighs his options, and decides it's best that he wake her. He would by no means force her to leave, but he knows she'd be sore in the morning if he let her sleep here. His sleep-muddled brain briefly considers carrying her to his bed, but common sense intervenes and tells him that if she woke up on the way, or if she were to wake up in his bed with no memory of going to sleep there, she might be a tad bit creeped out.

He shakes her shoulder gently. "Donna. Hey, Donna. Sleeping beauty."

"Mm?" She opens her eyes to a squint. "What?"

"We fell asleep. It's almost two in the morning."

She blinks a few times, reorienting herself. "Oh. Okay."

He brushes off thoughts of how cute she looks right now. "I mean, you can stay here if you want. You shouldn't drive right now, probably." He chuckles.

She furrows her brow. "Huh?"

"I just figured you'd want to move to the bed, is all."

She stares at him for a few moments, blue eyes glowing in the dark apartment, before nodding. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. C'mon."

His eyes widen as she scrambles to her feet, and he rises as well to make sure she doesn't topple over. "Whoa, there." He places his hands on her arms, steadying her. "What was that?"

She lifts a hand to brush the hair out of her face. "I said c'mon. Let's go to bed."

"Wait... What?"

"Yeah, c'mon, Joshua. I'm tired, you're tired. Let's go to bed." She takes one of his hands and intertwines their fingers. She tugs him toward the bedroom.

He thinks that in her tired state, she's forgotten all of the reasons why this might not be okay. And in his own sleep-worn mind, watching her (clad in his clothes, her hand pulling his persistently), he's beginning to forget them as well.

"Yeah, okay. Let's go to bed." He smiles with tired bliss, following her into the bedroom.

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To be continued! Very soon, too, I hope! Please let me know what you think :)