He ends up at her doorstep, though he's not sure why he's there.

"If you've come to gloat, you can just fuck off right now," she tells him, and the dog's licking his palm excitedly. "He was a good guy. Which god knows is more than I can say for you, by the way."

"Would you- I'm not gloating. I told you I would've voted for him!" he says, throwing up his arms in mock surrender and wondering how even in defeat and sweatpants, she manages to look so hot. "Really."

"Why, then?" Narrowing her eyes, but a smirk creeping over her face because she knows he really has no idea.

"Thought you might need company," he suggests, innocently.

"Yeah?" Cocks up an eye. "Henry, bed." The dog slinks off silently, paws padding on hardwood floor, and Josh finds himself vaguely apprehensive at what's about to happen next. Amy just grins.

He offers to make her breakfast as a gray dawn creeps over a DC skyline hours later, but she tells him not to bother. "Thanks for not gloating," she says, almost laughing as she retrieves his tie from under her bed.