NOTES:
Author: Yana
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Tiny one of N5
Disclaimer: The characters herein don’t belong to me.
I’m just borrowing them.
Archive: JDFF Challenge Archive, yes. Others please ask.
AN: Just an account of a night with an extra hour of
time.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
“Josh, it’s late...” Donna sighed.
“Yeah. Where were you?”
“It’s Saturday night, Josh. Obviously, I was out trying to delude myself that I have a life outside of work.”
“How’s that working for you?”
She ignored him. “What do you need?”
“The, uh, consumer rights banking compliance...”
“BCRC?”
“Sure,” he agreed.
“You have it.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You do. You can't miss it. Top left corner of your desk. Blue file folder. Should be sitting right on top of...”
“Ah. You left it open for me.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. “Josh?”
“Yeah. See, I had a, uh, coffee, earlier, and...”
“Josh,” she interrupted. “I beg of you not to say what you’re about to say.”
“I’m sorry, Donna, my hand just...”
“Josh!”
“Sorry,” he said again.
“It’s not salvageable?”
“You have a copy somewhere on computer, right?”
“Noooo!” she wailed. “You didn’t read it? Everyone’s stuff was in there...Parker and Hooper, and the stuff from Henderson... You know him, it’s not like he’d hand me a disk...he probably doesn’t even know what a computer looks like...”
“Oh.”
“Josh!” she cried.
“Uh, Donna? I’m going to need you...”
Shaking her head, she began mumbling to herself, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no...”
“...to come over...”
“...no, no, no, no, no...”
“...because you’ve read it...”
“...no, no, no, no, no, no...”
“You haven’t read it?” Panic began to rise in his throat.
“....no, no....” She sighed and bowed to the inevitable. “Yes.” Cradling the receiver between her head and shoulder, she pulled out her laptop and started to clear some space on her desk.
She could hear the relief in his voice. “And you made copies, right?”
“Of Henderson’s stuff, yes. The rest I can probably get e-mailed to me.”
“Tonight?” he asked hopefully.
“I’ll write them now.” She turned on the computer. “Whether anyone will be checking their mail at this time of the night is another matter.”
“Thanks. When you’re done, bring the Henderson stuff over to my place.”
“Josh!” she protested.
“And I’m ordering. Can you pick it up on your way?”
“I hate you.”
He smiled into the phone. “See you in twenty?” The receiver went dead in his hand.
**********
She hurried down her steps, glancing at her watch as she did so, and reasoned to herself that if she could keep her boss on track, she might conceivably be back home and in bed by two-thirty at the latest.
After brief stops at the office and Gino’s, she let herself into Josh’s apartment. He looked up from his work as she entered, but didn’t make any move to take the pizza or her laptop or her briefcase bulging with files. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said through clenched teeth, kicking the door shut behind her with more force than necessary. She dumped the pizza in the kitchen and started rummaging around on Josh's desk. Locating the computer he never used under a pile of papers, she yanked his internet connection out of the back and stretched the coiled length of cable to the coffee table.
Josh watched her connect her laptop. "I always wondered why that was fifteen feet long," he joked.
Wordlessly she plunked herself down on the couch across from him and started spreading papers across the coffee table.
He raised his eyebrows at that, but apparently decided to leave it alone. Muting the late news on the television, he wandered into the kitchen and came back with some pizza on plates and a couple of beers from the fridge.
“Here.” He handed her the food and put a beer down beside her.
“Thanks.”
They ate in silence.
“So,” he began, “if we don’t have Hooper and Parker, what about Henderson.”
She picked up some papers from the coffee table and frowned. “Well, like the old curmudgeon he is, he isn’t particularly happy with the rate provisions, especially as pertains to sections...” She began reading out the Congressman’s laundry list of objections. Josh grabbed a copy of the original proposal and followed along.
By the time they’d worked through the whole paper, Parker's assistant had E-mailed Donna another copy of her position. After sending back a quick, apologetic ‘thank you,’ Donna began to read off her laptop. “Parker, too, is an old curmudgeon. She doesn’t seem to like," she frowned at the screen, "--well, everything Henderson doesn’t like, plus...hmmm...” She leaned in closer, reading.
“Let me see that.” Josh left his chair and came around to sit beside her on the couch. He squinted at her laptop screen. “That’s quite the list.”
Donna turned her head to look at him and nearly jumped. She hadn’t realized he’d leaned in so close. “Yeah,” she managed.
Seemingly oblivious to her nearness, he pulled back and rubbed his eyes. “All right. You...”
“Hey, Hooper just sent back, too,” Donna observed, surprised. She started typing a reply.
“Who the hell are these people and why are they working at,” he checked the time on the muted television, “one o’clock at night on a weekend?”
“Dedicated public servants, apparently. Just like us. Where’s your printer?”
“Don’t you have it?”
She threw him a look of mock annoyance. “You know, a girl borrows one little wireless...”
“‘Steals’ is the word you’re actually looking for...”
“And all of a sudden, she’s accused of usurping all the technology in the known universe.” She heaved her laptop onto his desk, found his printer under another stack of papers, and plugged it in.
“I just find it eerie that all of my stuff is compatible with your laptop.”
She hid a smile. “You want high-quality, top-of-the-line hardware, Josh. So do I. It’s just coincidence,” she said, hitting ‘print’.
“Whatever.”
She thrust a sheaf of papers into his hand. “Here. You take Parker. I’ll do Cooper.”
“Hooper.”
“Whatever.”
“Fine.” He settled back on the couch and began to read.
Donna returned to her seat beside him, setting her laptop in front of her on the coffee table. She hunched over and began to work her way through the document.
After a few minutes, Josh shifted on the couch, pushing himself up to the end. Taking advantage of the fact that Donna was leaning forward, he stretched one leg out lengthways behind her on the couch, leaving his other foot resting on the floor.
Stillness fell over the apartment as they continued to read, punctuated only by the silent flickering of muted images on the television screen. The ticking of the clock became the loudest sound in the room, marking out the time minute after long minute.
Finally Donna broke the silence with a groan. “Ugh. I can’t hunch over this screen anymore.”
Josh mumbled something unintelligible. Shooting him a death glare he didn’t see, she got up and stretched her back. When she realized he wasn’t going to say anything, she lugged her laptop over to the desk and printed out the rest of the paper.
She looked over at him as she waited for the printer to finish and noticed he’d slumped down a little, so that he wasn’t so much sitting with one leg up on the couch anymore as...lounging. That irritated her. She wasn’t going to let him drag her out on a Saturday night and then hog what was by far the most comfortable piece of furniture in his apartment.
That she knew of.
It was a sign of how completely exhausted she was that she didn’t even pursue that line of thought.
The printer fell silent and she grabbed the sheets of paper. No way, she decided, was he going to chase her off the couch. She resumed her former spot and sat up straight as she tried to read. It wasn’t an ideal position, but it was preferable to being hunched forward over her computer.
Then Josh slumped farther down. She was pretty sure that his knee was pressing against the small of her back, but she did her best to ignore it.
It was so quiet in the apartment now; all she could hear was the occasional page turn. And of course the clock, ticking away the minutes, one steady second at a time. Ticking slowly, ticking steadily.
Her mind began to wander, wondering where he’d gotten an actual ticking clock. Probably from his mother. And now she thought of it, his mother probably gave him other things from the house when she moved, like the afghan draped over the back of the couch they were sitting on. The afghan was thick and colourful, just like a hand-knitted blanket should be, but who had knitted...
Donna jerked her head up with a start. Reading. She was supposed to be reading. The faster she read, the sooner she could go to bed. And then she could wonder about who knitted the afghan. Right. Reading. She refocused on the paper in front of her.
She was almost all the way through the next page when she realized the room was quiet enough for her to hear Josh breathing. Even, regular breaths, in and out, in and out. Her own breathing was regular too, though now she was thinking about it, her breaths became deeper. Breathing, in and out, in and out. In with the cool oxygen, out with the warm carbon dioxide. In with the oxygen, out with the carbon dioxide. Carbon dioxide...that’s why you yawn, she thought. Also, when you’re trapped in an airtight room, you’ll suffocate after a while because of all that warm carbon...
Her head jerked up again. Reading. She was supposed to be reading.
A soft chuckle came from the other end of the couch, and she turned to see Josh smirking at her. “Donna, you’re falling asleep.”
“No I’m not!” she protested.
“You really are. You’re doing that thing with your head where it droops, and droops, and you almost fall asleep, and then all of a sudden you catch yourself.”
“I am not.”
“I gotta tell you, it’s fun to watch.”
“Can we work?” she asked, offended.
He grinned and wriggled a bit farther down on the couch, so that he was practically lying down. “Put your feet up on the coffee table.”
She exhaled with annoyance, but when she put her feet up and leaned back against the couch, she was much more comfortable. Especially with Josh’s warm leg flush along the small of her back.
Settling down, she began to read again. Her eyes skimmed over the words quickly, but it wasn’t long before she realized that her brain was merely reciting words; it wasn’t comprehending anything. Sighing, she shifted, taking her feet off the coffee table. Josh slipped down a bit more, holding the papers up on his chest while he read, but she found that there was still plenty of room for her to curl her legs up under her on the couch. She started reading from the top of page again.
Her mind wandered halfway through the first paragraph, so she started again.
And again.
She shifted, angling her body so she could let her head fall back against the couch as she read the same page again.
And again.
And...
********
She drifted, halfway between sleeping and waking, sunlight streaming into her room. She savoured how wonderful this feeling was...to wake up naturally, without the aid of her alarm clock or a ringing phone.
She snuggled back down again, resolving to sleep some more. She was
warm and she was safe, and Josh was holding her close as they slept. Everything
was good. She crossed back into unconsciousness quickly.
********
When she started to drift awake again, she instinctively wrapped her arm over the one Josh had put around her waist. He squeezed her in response and made a reassuring noise. She nestled back into his body again, nuzzling his chest. His chin rested in her hair, and she made sure she was tucked up tight against him.
She slept, and he slept too.
********
It was Josh, shifting a bit to get comfortable, that pulled her part
of the way out of unconsciousness the next time. She let his leg slip between
hers and welcomed his weight as he rolled partway on top of her. It wasn’t
his fault, after all, that her bed was actually a couch. She angled herself
into him, hooking one leg over his, and let herself drift off again, loving
the feel of their bodies pressed together and his warm breath on her cheek.
********
Later, after they’d shifted again, twined themselves around each other even more tightly, she woke up just enough to wonder why her alarm hadn’t gone off. The sun was streaming in her room, and had been for a while...hours, if her internal clock was working.
She sighed contentedly. It didn’t matter. She didn’t have to work. Neither did he.
Unless it was Sunday, because if it was, he had Senior Staff at eleven.
But it wasn’t Sunday. It was...
What day was it?
Did it matter?
No, she told herself, wanting nothing more than to drift off again.
Well, it might be important.
Whatever the answer, she should probably figure it out. She drew in a deep breath, preparing to move herself into the realm of consciousness.
“Mmmm...” she groaned softly.
The sleep enveloping her retreated only slowly and she didn’t push, taking her time to wake up. Eventually, she felt aware enough to let her eyelids flutter open.
She was staring directly at Josh’s Harvard sweatshirt, and, by association, Josh’s chest in his Harvard sweatshirt. He was warm, and it was bright in her room, much brighter than usual, so she buried her face against him for a moment or two longer.
She heard him make a noise and felt him slide his arm around her more firmly. She smiled into the comfortable material of the sweatshirt, loving the feel of holding and being held by him. Slowly, she tilted her head up towards him and opened her eyes.
She’d gazed at him for only a moment when his heavy lids began to open. A lazy, contented smile spread over his face.
She smiled back.
He dropped his head down towards her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Instinctively, she tipped her face up to meet him.
He leaned down.
She stretched up, her lips parted.
Closer.
She could feel his breath warming her face.
Closer...
Then realization slammed into them both simultaneously.
“Josh!”
“Donna!”
She sat up hastily, realizing they weren’t in her room at all. Silly, of course, her room *had* a double bed. If they’d been sleeping together...
Oh god.
She couldn’t think about that.
“You have to work!” she blurted out.
He cursed, hauling himself upright. He took a moment to run his fingers through his hair and rub his face vigorously.
“When?” he managed to ask in an almost normal tone.
“Eleven...” She’d used those few seconds to take a deep breath and was amazed at how calm and matter of fact she sounded, even while her heart was still pounding erratically.
He checked his watch. “It’s eleven-fifteen now.”
She checked her own watch and cursed as well. “You’re right.”
“Damn.” He tucked his legs up and swung them past her, off the couch.
She fumbled around on the floor for her shoes, which must have been kicked off, and found the TV remote. Dying for any kind of distraction, she unmuted it.
Sound filled the room, in the form of a jovial announcer. “And for those of you who didn’t remember before you went to bed, last night marked the end of Daylight Saving. So turn those clocks back an hour and enjoy the extra time. Don’t be showing up to work early tomorrow! Now, in breaking news...”
They stopped what they were doing and stared at each other. Donna muted the TV again.
“I’m not late,” he observed unnecessarily.
She could tell he was as uncomfortable as she was, though he was doing a better job of hiding it. Her mouth went dry as she thought about what had almost happened. If they hadn’t both realized where they were, and what they were doing...
In that one second, before it was too late...
If it wasn’t already too late...
It didn’t bear thinking about.
“Yeah,” she said uneasily, looking over at him. She tried to keep from staring at his lips, tried to keep from remembering what they’d looked like a bare minute ago, curved into a lazy smile, dipping down to meet her own.
Josh dropped his eyes, breaking their gaze. Suddenly he frowned. “Hey, there’s a wet spot here!”
“What?” she asked, jolted by the non sequitur.
He held out the front of his sweatshirt for her to see. “Donna, I can’t believe it. You drool in your sleep!”
“I do not!” she lied baldly.
“What, so suddenly I’ve started lactating? You’re a drooler, Donna,” he smirked.
“Hmmph,” she said. “I was tired.”
“Slack-jawed with exhaustion, apparently.”
“Josh!” She swatted him.
He grinned. “I’m gonna grab a shower. Cold pizza for breakfast?”
“Nothing better,” she agreed.
“Great. And then after staff, we finish this.”
“Josh...” she protested.
There was an edge to his voice as he tried to say cheerfully, “Yes, it’s boring, Donnatella, but it is our duty as public servants.”
“Day in, day out,” she agreed quietly.
He threw her a humourless smile. “Only four more years, though.”
She held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “Right. I better get back to work.” She turned to the mess of papers littering the floor and coffee table, papers that had slipped from their fingers during the night. When she looked back up, he had disappeared into the bathroom.
“Right,” she said again to the empty room.
THE END