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Natasha  had never thought she would be the one responsible for getting her drunk boss home safely. Hell, she hadn't even thought it possible that her usually strict, cold boss was capable of getting himself too drunk to even walk unassisted. As his personal assistant, she had seen more of her boss than any of her co-workers, but nothing could have prepared her for this

Daniel Sheridan had called her cellphone after two in the morning. She had been annoyed, but had answered anyway, only to hear her usually straightforward boss rambling on about the most random assortment of things. After ascertaining that he was, indeed, drunk and had driven to where he was alone, and then coaxing his location out of him, she had firmly told him not to move. She had then quickly dressed and caught a cab to the small bar he had named. It had taken her exactly forty minutes.

Drunken Daniel was a strange sight. He was pretty much a mess and very, very loud. Natasha had found him on the small stage at the front of the room singing karaoke - very badly - with his tie loosened and shirt wrinkled, untucked, and partly unbuttoned. After successfully persuading him to get off the stage, thus stopping his horrendous execution of some poor artist's song, and outside of the bar, Natasha was now trying to half-carry him across the parking lot to his car.

"Come on, Mr. Sheridan, work with me", she said in an encouraging tone.

"We're not ...We're not workin' are we? Hey, Nat", he said. He then started to move in the opposite direction she was trying to take him. "Let's drink more! I'll pay!" No one called her 'Nat'. Hearing it for the first time from the lips of her boss was strange, but she kind of liked how it sounded. Ushering him away from the road side, she continued to lead him to his sleek black Lincoln. 

"Trust me, Mr, Sheridan, you'll owe me a drink after this, definitely", she mumbled to herself. More loudly she said firmly: "No. No more alcohol for you."

"Why not?" He let out a burp. "It's not far, just right there." He tried to wave in the direction of the bar, and stumbled instead. Natasha barely caught him.

"No! Definitely not. You're a mess." 

"Stop! In the name of love! Before you break my heart!" He started singing - at the top of his lungs. Oh God, why? she thought.

"Don't sing!" Natasha hissed out. Daniel burst out laughing. He lurched closer, leaning towards her a little as if about to impart some sagely advice.

"You should loosen up more, Nat."

That's what I told you a million times before. In my head, anyway. She rolled her eyes. 

"Just keep on walking, Mr. Sheridan. We're getting closer. That's it, one foot in front of the other."

"You know, my ex - whashername? Ol... Olivia! Yeah, her, Livvy... she was so..." He gestured wildly with the arm that wasn't over her shoulder, trying to find the right word to string his thought together through his drunken haze. "BITCH! She was bitchy. Never got drunk until I started dating her, y'know, Nat." He nodded to emphasize his statement. His cursing was even stranger to Natasha. She knew that this was definitely a night that she wasn't about to forget anytime soon. She just wanted to get him home, damn it, and then get herself home and to sleep before her day began again. She wasn't interested in hearing about his ex or when he started abusing liquor. Surely him confiding in her was a breach in the line between a professional relationship and personal one.

He was silent for a moment, and stumbling a bit more than before. Annoyed, she turned to snap at him, only to realize he had been staring at her very closely. Literally, closely, his face was right there. She could count the amount of hairs in his black eyebrows if she wanted to.

"Hey, Nat, you're actually really pretty!" he exclaimed, seeming thoroughly surprised.

"No need to be so shocked about it", she muttered crossly. 

"I've never noticed before", he added, just as they arrived at his vehicle. Daniel began to clumsily fish around in his pockets, leaning  his back against the car's side as he did so. He finally found them and tried, unsuccessfully, to open the car door while still leaning against it.

"I'll do it. Give them here." Natasha took the keys from his hands, efficiently unlocking the doors and moving to help him into the passenger's seat.

"I've gotta go", he mumbled, shifting unsteadily from her and lurching towards the nearby bushes. Natasha froze. Did she have to help him with that, too? Uncertain, she took a few steps toward him.

"Um, Mr. Sheridan? Mr. Sher- Daniel!"

"Mm?" There was the sound of  a zipper being undone.

"Do you... Do you need help?"

"Nahhhh." She heard him peeing and relaxed. "I'm done." He turned and pretty much fell into the passenger seat of his car. She leaned in to buckle him in. He watched her with those gray-green eyes of his and, just as she finally had him settled, he leaned forward and abruptly gave her a loud smack on the lips.

"None of that now, Mr. Sheridan", Natasha scolded after recovering from her initial surprise.

"It was my thanksh", he explained, his words slurring a bit as he seemed to be drifting off already. "Y'know, for coming...No one else woulda done it..."

"It's no problem." Natasha shut the door. She slid into the driver's seat and drove quickly to the condominium complex he lived in, a route she had had to memorize after being sent there often enough to collect or return items upon his request. He was definitely drifting in and out of awareness during the drive, often mumbling about places and people she wasn't entirely familiar with.

She miraculously got him into his condo, out of his shoes, and into his bed. She pulled the bed's blanket over him. Leaning down to remove his tie lest he get strangled by it in his sleep, Natasha studied his face clearly for the first time at such a close range. He had nice lashes, she noticed, black like his brows and close cut hair. His nose was straight, his bottom lip fuller than his top lip, and the barest shadow of facial hair on his cheeks and under his nose. He watched her through half-closed lids. Pulling back, she draped the tie over his black painted headboard. Satisfied that she had made him as comfortable as he could possibly be, she went into his bathroom - which was a massive sized one with gleaming marble tiles and a huge tub - and got the trash bin. This she placed in easy reach beside the bed, in case he got the sudden urge to vomit during the night.

"Mr. Sheridan, I'm leaving the garbage bin right here OK? Vomit in this if you need to. Okay? Mr.Sheridan?" She nudged him gently. 

"Mhm?" he groaned out, cracking open lids that had slid shut during her ministrations. 

"The bin is right here for you. It's not far - puke in here, not on the bed, okay? I'm leaving now, but I'll check on you first thing later this morning." He mumbled something incoherent in reply. "I'm going now. Goodnight." She turned to leave - only to be yanked back by her hand with such force that she landed in a sitting position next to him. He was suddenly wide awake and completely aware.

"Don't", he begged, his eyes pleading with her.

"Don't what, Mr. Sheridan?" She tried to tug her hand free and failed.

"Don't go. Not yet. Stay here Nat, please." He seemed desperate, like he was a man who was dying and she was the one who could prevent it. She sighed. It saves me cab fare, I get more time to sleep and I won't have to get up too early again to check on him, so why not? It couldn't hurt.

"Fine. I'll stay, but don't try anything."

"I won't." He relaxed. Yawning, Natasha turned off the lights, kicked off her shoes, and settled on the bed on top of the blanket. Curling into herself on her side, she sighed.

"Goodnight Nat", he murmured, once again retaining possession of one of her hands.

"Goodnight, Mr. Sheridan."

"Daniel. My name is Daniel."

"Goodnight, Daniel."

- End - 

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