SUMMARY: I blame imacartwright who said, and I quote, I had the wierdest dream the other night... that you wrote a crossover with TWW and XMM where Logan and Josh sat in a bar and got drunk and talked about Marie and Donna. Also, imacartwright generously donated to tsunami relief in exchange for this silliness, and then made me a lovely artwork present. For both of those things, I thank her kindly. :)

BIG UPS to Meg and Lulu for encouraging the madness, and to Zoecole for the handholding and beta-on-the-fly.

***

By the time Josh and Donna parked the rental in front of their latest home-for-the-night, the campaign grind combined with Josh's general exhaustion to provoke a spectacular fight.  Over -- and Josh grimaced just remembering it -- a staple remover of all things. And since Josh had never quite learned when to shut his mouth or when to apologize, Donna had told him to go to hell and locked in her hotel room for the evening with strict instructions that she not be disturbed.

And she'd taken the keys to the rental car with her, leaving Josh with two options: stay in his hotel room and get some work done, or go somewhere within walking distance for some food and a drink.

After pestering CJ and Toby and Sam by cellphone, Josh reluctantly headed out on foot, walking up the gravel shoulder of the two-lane road in a truly tiny town somewhere about an hour and a half outside of Manhattan.  How civilization could go from Manhattan to the Roadkill Grill in just 100 miles was beyond Josh, but apparently his choices for sustenance were the Roadkill or... Well, maybe the motel had a vending machine.

Standing outside the Roadkill, eyeing the small collection of motorcycles, Josh was a little tempted to grab a Twinkie and call it a night, but he really wanted a drink.  So he tucked his tie into his pocket, straightened his shoulders, and walked into the bar.

The place was right out of a bad movie -- a country-music playing, smoke-filled, dimly lit affair, with neon signs advertising domestic beers -- and Josh realized he might has well have left his tie on.  Everyone else in the bar wore some combination of denim, flannel, and leather, while Josh had on half of his grey Armani suit.

Ignoring the stares, Josh slowly moved down the bar, heading for the only empty seat, which happened to be right between an aging blonde wearing a leather bustier about two sizes too small and a brooding man in denim and muttonchops.

Neither the blonde nor the oddly intimidating man seemed particularly thrilled when Josh sat between them and ordered a vodka sour.  As Josh awaited his drink, he tried very hard not to overhear the blonde talking dirty to her... whatever.  Of course, that left the glowering man to his left, and the tense conversation he was having with a really smoking brunette.

"Logan," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder and drawing Josh's attention to the brilliant blonde streak that framed her face, "Would you--"  She broke off when she noticed Josh's gaze, her eyes narrowing.  "Can I help you?"

Her boyfriend jerked around to look at Josh, and, man, that guy was scary. Josh averted his gaze, thanking the bartender profusely, more for his timing than for the drink.  For a few moments, Josh quietly sipped his drink, hissing a little as he realized it was lots of vodka and a splash of sour.

"Logan, you're being an ass," the brunette declared, obviously agitated.  "You can't honestly be jealous of Bobby.  Bobby," she repeated, sounding incredulous.

"I ain't jealous."

"Sure," she scoffed, and Josh couldn't quite believe how fearlessly she mocked such a scary looking guy.  "Which is why you took off on the bike without letting me explain."

"I ain't jealous," he repeated.  "Bobby's a kid."

Josh took a swig of his drink, blinking rapidly as it burned all the way down.  He glanced around in search of a small bowl of peanuts or pretzels or anything edible.  Nothing. Donna had told him repeatedly never to drink on an empty stomach.  But then, Donna was busy ignoring him, so it wasn't like he really needed to follow her crazy little rules.  With a shrug, Josh took another sip and tried to act like he wasn't listening to this little whip of a girl lecture someone who looked like he smashed beer cans on his forehead for a good time.

"If you weren't jealous, you wouldn't have tried to hide out here and brood," the brunette said, leaning against the bar and placing one hand on her cocked hip.  "Now stop being an ass and come home with me."

Josh couldn't help but steal a glance at the man -- Logan -- to gauge his reaction to such an offer.  Logan seemed completely disinterested in his girlfriend.  "I'm having a drink."

In Josh's opinion, going home with the brunette was a way more attractive option than whatever was in that Logan guy's glass.  The silence from the brunette piqued Josh's interest, and he glanced over, only to find both the brunette and her glowering boyfriend looking back at him.

"Sorry," Josh muttered, focusing on his glass.  His nearly empty glass. Josh upended it, placed the empty on the battlescarred bar, and gestured wildly for the bartender.

But he could still hear it when the brunette lowered her voice and said, "You're starting to piss me off, Logan."

"Yeah, Marie," Logan shot back, "and seein' you all over Bobby was a real good time for me."

"All over Bobby?" Marie echoed, sounding shocked.  "You really are something, you know that?  You lust after Jean night and day for two years, and you have the nerve to sit there and--"

"He had his hands on you," Logan interrupted gruffly.

Josh nodded, feeling something like solidarity with this Logan guy, though he was starting to get a little confused by all the names.  Which was somewhat beside the point.  If some guy put his hands on Donna--

"He tackled me," the brunette argued.  She sounded so angry that Josh couldn't help but glance over at them.  Marie had leaned closer to her boyfriend, her expression intense as she said, "What kills me is that you kept pushing me off for two years, telling me I need to grow up, and now it's you sitting in this shitty bar acting like a child."

Josh stared openly, half-expecting this Logan character to whip out a gun or something, but he just sat, jaw clenched tight, as his girlfriend pushed away from the bar and stalked out.  "Jeez," Josh murmured.  He took a swig of his vodka, barely feeling the burn this time, though his stomach felt very warm and kind of tingly.

"That broad makes me crazy," Logan muttered under his breath.

Smirking at the mental image of how Donna would react to that particular statement, Josh commented, "I don't really think it helps to call them broads."

He reconsidered the wisdom of interjecting his opinion as the man beside him turned slowly to glower at him.

Obviously, Josh had drunk too much.  "Or," Josh amended, leaning slightly away, "I could just sit here with my drink and be quiet."

"Good choice," Logan told him, and if Josh didn't know better, he'd swear the man actually growled.

"She's, uh, pretty," Josh said, even as told himself to shut the hell up.  Was he still talking?  Why was he still talking?  "Your girlfriend."

Logan turned his head, glaring.  "Excuse me?"

"Her hair," Josh explained, wondering where the words were coming from.  "That streak.  It's quite... uh, striking."  Stop talking, he told himself.

"This doesn't seem like your kinda place," Logan said, tapping his fingers against his glass.  Somehow, the innocuous comment seemed almost like a threat.

Josh blinked.  "Huh?"

"You're wearing a suit," Logan pointed out, and he made the word suit sound like the rudest of epithets.

"Yes," Josh nodded a little too exuberantly.  Thank God he'd pulled the tie off before walking into this place.

Logan's disdainful gaze raked over him once.  "So your lawyer wife got pissed off at you and dumped you out of the car on your way up to the Catskills for the weekend?" he guessed, his tone venomous.

"Nah," Josh answered, growing morose again at the thought of the fight he'd had with Donna.  "She locked herself in the hotel."  He frowned, wondering how two drinks could've affected him quite this strongly.  He couldn't feel his nose, but managed to quash the urge to reach up and touch it to make sure it was still there.  Though he did nearly fall backwards off of his stool when he tipped his head back to get a better look.  Yup.  Still there.

"My assistant," Josh clarified, taking care to enunciate so he wouldn't sound drunk or anything.  "I'm not married."

Logan raised a skeptical eyebrow.  "Assistant?"

"Yeah," Josh said.  "She works for me."

"Huh."

Josh glanced down at his drink, surprised to find that his glass was empty.  Glasses.  No, glass.  He opened his eyes wide in an attempt to focus.  Yes, just one glass.  "She's blonde."

A long moment of silence.  Then Logan asked, "Who?"

"Donna," Josh answered, frowning a little as he remembered the way she'd glared at him before slamming her hotel room door in his face.  "She's blonde.  She's beautiful."

"Your assistant," Logan surmised. Josh thought he detected amusement in the other man's voice, but when he turned to look, Logan's expression was unreadable.

So Josh simply nodded.  "She's tall, too.  Taller than your girlfriend.  And not quite as..."  Josh lifted his hand to indicate stacked, but quickly dropped his hands back to the bar when he got a look at Logan's face.  Wow, that guy could glare like nobody else Josh had ever met.  He'd beat Toby in a glaring contest, and before tonight, Josh hadn't honestly thought that was possible.

"Not quite as what?" Logan demanded, turning his empty glass in a small circle on the bar as he glared some more at Josh.  There was something almost... feral about the way Josh was being sized up, and he squirmed a little on his bar stool.

"Uh..."  Josh couldn't think of a single adjective that wouldn't result in him getting his ass kicked.  So he did what he always did when he was forced to defend an untenable position -- he went on the attack.  "You really should've gone home with your girlfriend."

Logan half-turned on his stool, and Josh's attention was momentarily transfixed by the shiny, oversized belt buckle on the man's belt.  "Excuse me?" Logan practically growled.

"She, uh, she seemed like she wanted you to go home with her and, you know," Josh shrugged, "she's prettier than anyone else in this place."

"Listen, bub," Logan said, his voice low and mean.  "You don't know what the hell you're talkin' about."

Fair point.  Josh nodded, willing to concede.  "Sure.  Right.  And that guy had his hands on her, so I can see where you'd -- Uh, that's my -- arm."

"You can't hold your liquor," Logan said, his fingers wrapped around Josh's forearm like a steel vice.  "Maybe you should think about calling it a night."

"Hey, man, I just meant that I'd be pissed, too, if some guy had his hands on Donna," Josh blurted, trying to extricate himself from Logan's grip without overcompensating and ending up on the floor.  He glanced up at Logan, and realized he no longer had the other man's full attention.  Logan was staring over Josh's shoulder, his expression just as unreadable as ever.  Josh tugged his arm.  "Uh, could you maybe--?"

"That must be Donna," Logan said.

Donna?  Did he say Donna?  Josh craned his neck, since Logan still had his arm in an unrelenting grip, but the movement made him more than a little dizzy.  He blinked rapidly at the blonde-ish blur approaching, waiting for his vision to swim back into focus.

"Josh."  It was Donna all right, and she sounded more than a little irritated with him.  "You didn't answer your phone."

His phone? Josh patted his pockets and then blanched.  "My phone--"

"You left it in your jacket," Donna interrupted.  Josh nearly toppled over when Logan released his arm, but Donna caught him with a slender hand on his back.  "You're drunk," she observed flatly.

Josh shook his head.  "Tipsy," he corrected, even as he very carefully spun on the barstool to face her.  Which, conveniently, let him lean back against the bar.  She was standing close enough to be mostly in focus, and Josh realized she kept stealing glances at the glowering man beside him.  "That's Logan," Josh explained.

Donna smiled.  "Hi.  I'm Donna."

"Charmed," Logan said, half-turning and leaning one elbow on the bar with an air of casual insolence.  "Don't listen to your friend.  He's not tipsy, he's drunk."

Donna's smile widened, and she seemed inordinately interested in Logan.  She always had been attracted to guys that would be bad for her.

Josh reached out and tapped Donna's arm.  "Tipsy," Josh repeated.  "And Logan's girlfriend was here earlier."  Ha.  Let him try to hit on Donna now.

To Josh's amazement, the man beside him actually cracked a smile.  Of course, he was smiling at Donna, whose cheeks were a little bit pink.  But still.  Josh looked back and forth between them and then pushed himself upright.  "We should go home," he told Donna, and damn if Logan didn't actually chuckle.  "What's so funny?" Josh demanded, figuring it was his turn to do a little glaring.

But Logan just shook his head and asked Donna, "Are you gonna need any help with him?"

"The car's right out front," Donna answered.  "But thanks."

Josh slid his weight to the edge of the stool, feeling for the floor with one foot before he attempted to stand.  "Whoa!" he yelped, grabbing for Donna with one hand and the bar with another.  He misjudged, however, and sent Logan's empty glass careening across the wooden surface.  The glass smashed to the floor, drawing the attention of pretty much everyone in the bar.

"Josh," Donna hissed, steadying him with both hands.

"I've got it," Logan said.  He stood, pulled out his wallet, and placed several bills on the bar, catching the bartender's eye.  Then he turned to Donna and Josh and, wow, he was really tall.

Josh felt a little stupid as Donna and Logan frogmarched him to the door, but he decided it would be wiser to keep his mouth shut.  True to her word, Donna had left the car right outside the door.  She opened the passenger door, and Logan maneuvered Josh into the seat, where he slumped down a little and tried to keep his eyes open.  It was nice and dark outside, and Josh's eyelids were so heavy.

"Thanks," Donna said, lingering beside the open passenger door to talk to Logan.  "I appreciate the help.  He has a very delicate system."

"So I noticed," Logan said.

Josh, growing impatient with them, forced his eyes open and stared blearily at his assistant.  "Donna," he whined.

She turned and glanced down at him.  "Yes, Josh.  Just a minute." Donna turned back to Logan.  "I should get him home."

Hands on his hips, Logan nodded.  "Take care of him."

Donna nodded and started to round the car.  "Good night, Logan.  It was nice to meet you."

Josh flailed helplessly for the door, having trouble judging distances.  But Logan took two steps to the car and said, "Watch your hands."

"Logan," Josh said, tilting his head so he could see the other man's face.

Logan paused with his hands on the door, giving Josh a questioning look.  "Yeah?"

"Are you going home to your girlfriend?"

Expression still unreadable, Logan nodded.  "I always do.  Now watch your hands."

"Thanks, man," Josh said, his eyes slipping closed almost before the door clicked shut.  "Logan's cool," he mumbled, sinking deeper into the seat.

"Wow," Donna murmured beside him, sounding more than a little awed.  "Logan's hot."

Josh really wanted to voice the very relevant points that Logan had a girlfriend, and rode motorcycles, and hung out in really scary bars, but the vodka he'd drunk wouldn't cooperate.  Moments later, Donna was opening the passenger door and tugging on his arm.

"C'mon, Josh.  It's time for bed."

Even considering Josh's drunken state, those particular words were enough to get him moving.  Blearily, he took her hand and followed her inside.

THE END