* * *

June 2001 (the day after the events of "The Dinner Party")

Josh sat alone in the windowless hospital waiting room, frowning at the meaningless scrawls that had been numbers just minutes ago. He pinched the bridge of his nose and wondered for the fourth time that week if he needed glasses. He'd tried stealing Sam's once, and they hadn't helped, but that didn't necessarily mean anything -- maybe he was already so blind that Sam's weren't strong enough.

Or maybe he just needed a vacation.

He didn't notice anyone else in the room until a warm body sidled up to him. He frowned. Soft...small...perky...not Sam. He turned his head slightly. "Ainsley," he said, surprised.

"Hey, Josh," she purred, and he wondered if there really was a reason Sam referred to her as a "sex kitten." Suddenly he wished he hadn't called her "Kitten" last night. "How's CJ?"

"Much better," he said, relieved to have a safe topic to cling to. "They're releasing her in about an hour. That's why I'm here; I was the only one who could get away to take her home."

"Has Leo said what's wrong with her?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Did you not hear him tell Toby he could ask every hour until the day he died and he wouldn't say?"

"Well, yeah, but--"

"And have you ever known Leo McGarry to say things he didn't mean?"

"Well--"

"I didn't think so." Josh gave his papers a triumphant flick and turned back to them, only to realize he still couldn't read them. He sighed mightily.

Then froze as a warm, soft, Ainsley-arm slid across his back. "What's wrong, Josh? Rough morning?"

"Um...yeah." He kept his eyes trained on the indecipherable numbers. "I, uh...yes."

"I know a couple tricks that could relax you some."

Josh's hand shook slightly. He'd fallen into the Twilight Zone. Or Hell. Hard to say, at this point. "Really?"

"Uh-huh. I could give you a back rub. I'm very good at those."

Twilight Zone. "I--"

"Of course, you'd have to take off your shirt."

Hell. "Ainsley--"

"So Leo's not here?"

That seemed like a total non-sequitor. "He was, earlier, but he had to leave."

"Toby?"

Josh shook his head. "Stuck in meetings for the Blue Ribbon commission."

"And...Sam?"

Swear to God I'd sell my soul if he were here. "Taking the opportunity to get some work done without Toby breathing down his neck."

"So it's just us?" He briefly considered lying, saying that Carol was in the cafeteria, or that Dr Bartlet was lying in wait somewhere to be over-protective, or that Mallory was lying in wait somewhere to pick a fight, but he finally admitted defeat and nodded. "Goody," she said, and Josh would never have imagined until that moment that "goody" was a word that could be said seductively. She rested her head on his arm, and he barely restrained himself from jumping a foot in the air. "Oh, Josh." she sighed.

"Uh, hey there."

"It's been like a dream coming to the White House. Not only do I get to work in the place I've idolized my entire life, but there are all these strong, powerful, sexy men -- and they all think I'm a sex kitten." Her eyes fluttered closed. "It's heaven, Josh."

"Ainsley, there's -- there's something I need to tell you." Sam would absolutely rip him apart for outing them to Ainsley, but Josh considered it more than worth it to get the blond Republican octopus detached from his torso.

She batted those impossibly big eyes at him. "Yes, Josh?"

He took a deep breath. "I'm seeing someone."

"Okay," she said, not missing a beat. "I'm sure she won't mind." She cuddled up closer, her free hand drifting to his thigh.

"Actually," he said, very deliberately removing her hand, "it's a guy, and, yes, he would mind a great deal."

She sat up fast and glared at him. "I don't believe you! You just don't want me, and you're saying you're gay so you don't have to come right out and reject me."

Help? Somebody? Anybody? "Really, Ainsley!" he said. "It's -- it's Sam. Ask him, if you don't believe me!"

Ainsley looked at him for the space of two blinks. Then she grinned. "There you go. Wasn't that hard, was it?"

"Wha--"

"I considered just confronting you, but this was much more fun."

"You -- you knew?"

She nodded. "I did."

"And you -- why, you little -- How the hell did you find out?" he demanded. His eyes widened. "Did you see us in the kitchen?" How many people had wandered in and back out again before Mallory crashed in on them?

Ainsley sat back. "What were you doing in the kitchen?" She shook her head. "Never mind. No, it was the coffee. You said you didn't know how any of us took ours, but then you gave Sam exactly what he would have asked for."

"You were paying that much attention to what I was doing?" That was a little terrifying.

"You had my tea, Josh. I wanted my tea."

"Sam's my best friend," he pointed out.

"True. Let's call it...the straw."

"The straw?"

She nodded. "You know; the straw. The proverbial straw that broke the back of the proverbial camel."

"Ah. That straw."

"That straw." She nodded again and pursed her lips, remembering. "My first day in the White House, Sam tore a strip off of me about gun control -- because of you. When we were working on the Correspondents' Dinner speech, you two kept breaking off for little side-conferences. And then there was that weird Sam-chasing-Mallory stuff at the party last night -- not to mention the look you gave each other when Leo asked if you wanted something." She thought for a second. "Oh, and, he stole your wallet out of your pocket in the gift shop."

"That only proves he's a petty thief," Josh said.

"Most pickpockets don't fondle their victims' asses mid-swipe."

Josh laughed. "True enough." He looked at her. "So, what are you going to do with this newfound knowledge?"

She flipped her hair out of her eyes. "You mean, am I going to sell it to my cronies in the Republican party to use as political blackmail against the Bartlet Administration?"

"I think I meant, are you going to tell Leo or the President."

"They don't know?"

Josh shook his head. "You, CJ, and Mallory are the only ones."

"Let's hear it for the Sisterhood." Ainsley smiled. "No, Josh, I'm not going to tell anyone. I believe that you should, but I won't."

"And you're okay with it?" He frowned. "Not that it would make any difference if you weren't, but--"

"I haven't consigned you to the pits of Hell."

"I think I'm already there," he muttered.

"Josh. All Republicans are not Jesse Helms."

"Thank God. I would've moved to Fiji years ago."

"You could still," she said.

"And leave the country to you and your Republican ilk? Never!"

She laughed. "Oh, Josh, one other thing." She punched his arm.

"Ow," he yelped. "That hurt. Like, a lot."

"Call me Kitten again and I will aim that punch considerably lower. It is demeaning, degrading, sexist, and lewd, and I see red every time someone says it."

"All right. Point taken." He rubbed his arm. "But, Ainsley, hit on me like that again, and you just might come to regret it."

"Would I regret it, Josh?" she asked playfully, and he blushed.

"I haven't heard any complaints since I was, like, 15."

She laughed, then regarded him solemnly. "Take care of him."

"I will," he said quietly.

She nodded again, turned, and bounced to the door. "My work here is done. I'm going to see CJ before they spring her."

"Good-bye, Ainsley," he said, looking at her with new eyes entirely.

"Oh! That spreadsheet you're trying to read? You do know you've been looking at it upside-down, right?" Before he could reply, she was gone.

Josh looked down at the paper in his hand and realized she was right. "I think I've been looking at a lot of things upside-down," he said. He shook his head, turned the paper around, and went back to work.