Notes: Written for the Rare Pairings Ficathon. Prompts were Red Haven's On Fire and Am I Getting Through? by Sheryl Crow.
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The first time they slept together was not long after Josh hired her, on a creaky hotel room bed in Nashville. She did it because it was a campaign, and they were both drunk and beautiful, and for the first time in her life there was no one there to tell her that she shouldn't, that it wasn't right, that the neighbors would talk.
He did it because, three hours earlier, Josh had kissed him in the back of the bus and given him that smile that never failed to break his heart.
She knew that, and she didn't mind.
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Neither of them cried while Josh was in surgery, because he had a million other things to do, and she knew that if she let herself fall apart she'd never get the pieces back together.
It was only afterwards that she shattered, curled in his arms on his couch, feeling his tears fall warm against her neck and trying not to realize how much both of them had almost lost.
She was wrong, though, because in the morning she untangled herself from him and left, and they were both still whole, still held together by something tears could not dissolve.
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He came to see her the morning after Christmas, and as he brushed past her she caught just a hint of Josh's cologne.
"I'm glad he wasn't alone on Christmas," she said, and he didn't even bother to look surprised.
"Yeah," he agreed, and folded her into his arms like she belonged there.
She didn't ask why he had come, because it didn't matter. They stood in front of the closed door and held each other, not speaking, not moving until she lifted her head and kissed his closed eyelids, and then led him to the bedroom without a word.
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"You look�" he didn't finish by saying like crap, but he might as well have.
"I walked," she said with as much dignity as she could muster.
"From Indiana?"
"Might as well have," she sighed, perching on the edge of his desk and frowning down at him. "You look�" she trailed off tactfully.
"I'm not Josh," he said, and seemed to think that was enough.
She reached out to smooth the lines from his face, brushing back some of his hair. "You don't need to be Josh. In fact, please. Don't be Josh, ok?"
He was smiling when she left.
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"You fired someone for me," she said as they stood in the wings watching the President. She didn't have to turn to know he was smiling.
"I would have fired him anyway," he lied. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and she leaned back, feeling him warm and solid behind her.
"You could have won, you know," she said, and he laughed beside her ear.
"No, I couldn't have. But thanks."
"What will you do? When it's over?"
He was still smiling as he straightened up and shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "I really don't know."