Chapter Text
“What are you doing back here?”
Donna startles mid-search and turns to face her boss who’s just walked into the bullpen. For the second time tonight, they’re the last to leave.
“What are you doing back here?”
He walks past her into his office as he volleys back, “I asked you first.”
“Honestly, Josh, you’re more fourteen than forty most days,” she throws back at him while rummaging through her bottom drawer, the one with emergency essentials she might need throughout the day. Except now it’s nearly 12 A.M. on what’s supposed to be the night of a blizzard, so she mentally pats herself on the back because it seems her over-preparedness has advantages beyond office hours, too.
Josh steps out, trying to neatly coil his unruly laptop charger before giving up and stuffing it into his bag. “I was halfway home when I forgot this. Sam said we probably won’t be snowed out or anything, but just in case. What are you looking for?”
She finally fishes out a Ziplock bag of travel-sized creams and serums from the drawer, waving it at Josh as he looks at her like she’s insane.
“Donna, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this is a place of work and not the makeup counter at Macy’s,” he chuckles. “Also, Leo ordered us all to go home before the blizzard stops us from doing so.”
“My car wouldn’t start and when I called Jenna for a ride she said the heating in our apartment is down. She’s busy with our super trying to get someone to look at it before the blizzard hits,” she sighs, standing up.
“Donna, I keep saying this—I keep saying you need to get rid of that piece of junk and find a better place—”
“That piece of junk brought me all the way to New Hampshire, thank you very much. And it led me to this job, which, while a wonderful opportunity, has the unfortunate downside of not paying me enough to rent a nicer apartment. I need a raise.”
“Do you really think this is the best time to talk about a raise?”
“Mmm… I think this is the best time to talk about a raise,” she deadpans. “Metro’s closed, so I came back in to take a shower in the bathrooms and wait it out til Jenna can—"
“Nah, absolutely not,” Josh interrupts. “There’s no way she’ll make it in time before the snow sets in. Come on, you still have some stuff over from a couple of months ago.”
“Josh—” she starts, but it’s useless because he’s already grabbing her coat to help her reluctantly into it. They start towards the door when she yelps, mutters something about needing an item from her bottom drawer, grabs it, and then quickly falls back in step with him, both in tandem once more.
Huddled a little more closely together against the wind than both would ever admit, they step into the cold night.
***
Josh offers Donna the shower first. He can’t help but feel a little tug at his heart when he steps into the living room after his turn and sees her on the sofa, in her own pyjama bottoms and socks and tee, but his pilfered Harvard sweatshirt.
A perfect sight, he thinks to himself, as Donna’s ability to pull off crimson red is still unmatched so far, and he’d be hard-pressed to find anyone else who would give her a run for her money – well, hard-pressed because he doesn’t want to find anyone else. She looks like she belongs there, in his living room, in his clothes, her 12-step skincare routine neatly lining his bathroom counter. Even the sofa’s already made up, the same way it was every night just a few months ago when she helped him with his recovery. He knows that the blankets and pillows will be strewn across the floor in the morning – Donna’s no still sleeper – but he thinks back to the nights when the sofa setup was left untouched because she stayed with him in his bed, fending off his nightmares.
He’s starting to feel a little lost in nostalgia when—
“Let’s go outside.”
“Outside?” Donna nods in response. “We just came in from outside. You’re here to escape the outside, and in case you forgot, there’s a blizzard outside.”
“I just want to listen to the snow for a bit,” she says simply. He looks at her like she’s crazy, but after five minutes of Wisconsin jokes, Josh putting up a weak fight when Donna insists she wears his good coat, and promises of hot cocoa (“Um, I don’t have hot chocolate.” “I have hot chocolate.” “You do?” “I took it from my drawer earlier, remember?” “Who are you, Mary Poppins?” “Shut up. I even put cinnamon in it.” “You mean you make your own hot chocolate blend?” “Do you want hot chocolate or not?” “…Yes.”), they’re both stood outside on Josh’s front steps.
The snow is falling heavily now, big fluffy flakes hitting Donna’s upturned face and getting caught in her knit hat. She looks at Josh and laughs, “There’s so much snow in your hair. It’s all white.”
“Believe me, it was already turning white because of work,” he smiles.
She reaches over and fluffs his hair, shaking off the snowflakes. They’ve always been tactile like this, pushing boundaries of boss and assistant, but sometimes it still takes Josh by surprise. He can see the pink blush on her cheeks from the cold as she draws in close and starts to brush the snow off his shoulders. Her skin looks like it’s glowing against the snow – alabaster, he ponders, that’s the word she uses to describe herself, right? Eyes trained on her, Josh catches himself and lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“So – what did you mean by listening to the snow?”
“Snow actually absorbs sound,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“We’re listening to… silence?”
“For someone who loves the sound of his own voice, I can imagine that’d be pretty hard,” she smirks. “But give it a try. Close your eyes.”
“I don’t love the sound of—” he starts.
“Hmm—” she interjects.
“Oh, please, I can totally listen to si—”
“Tut-tut,” Donna interrupts. “You do love the sound of your own voice and this little protest is just further proof.”
Josh opens his mouth for another retort but closes it again and instead does as he’s told, closing his eyes and trying to tune himself to whatever Donna’s listening to.
“Snow actually absorbs sound,” she repeats, her voice barely above a whisper. “So when it snows, it gets really quiet, like we’re soundproofing the world.” He chances a peek, watching her as she continues, “When I was a kid, I used to sit outside for a while when it snowed cos inside was always noisy. Stepping outside felt like stepping into a snow globe, a little bubble of my own.”
Josh is about to make a joke about bubbles bursting, but thinks twice about it and suppresses the urge, not wanting to burst hers right now. Instead, he takes in a deep breath of sharp, cold air.
Silence.
It’s peaceful, he supposes, getting to slow to a stop like this. Their days are as dynamic as they can get, so it’s a welcome change of pace even if they’re only outside for a few minutes. He feels himself relax into the snowy stillness, starting to grasp what Donna meant about a soundproofed world of her own. It feels nice.
Donna’s eyes are still closed and there’s a hint of a smile on her face. Despite the cold starting to seep into his bones, Josh can’t help but think about how he’d like to stay in this moment forever, frozen in time with Donna, the only person he’d stand in a snowstorm for.
A little bubble of their own.