Remnants of the Past

By Nomad
November 2002

Spoilers: This story goes AU somewhere around late season three, but flashbacks from the season four episode "Debate Camp" are also fair game.
Disclaimer: The characters and concepts used within belong to Aaron Sorkin; I'm just borrowing for non-profit purposes.

Caught up in your life
Excuses are so lame
You may be different, but I'm still the same
The reasons that you thought
The intention that you caught
You say things are simple, we both know they're not
- Summer, Sum 41

I

FRIDAY:

Jed spared his Chief of Staff a smile as he walked into the Oval Office.

"Hey, Leo."

"Good morning, Mr. President."

"How's today looking?"

Leo sat down on the edge of the nearest chair and straightened his jacket. "Well, barring any unforeseen international incidents, we're looking at a pretty light day."

Jed nodded to himself for a moment, and then looked up to meet Leo's eyes. "So. How are you doing?"

He rolled his eyes, although it was only a flimsy pretence at the sarcastic looks he was capable of; his old friend's concern was still too precious to him on the slippery slope he'd been climbing laboriously back up. "I'm fine."

"Mm-hmm," Jed nodded. He got up and approached Leo, beckoning him closer as he did. "Hey, c'm'ere," he urged softly.

"Oh, hey. Hey!" Leo protested, as Jed hugged him, and then planted a brief kiss of his temple for good measure. He'd been making an effort lately to make more physical contact with his old friend; he worried about Leo in his isolated world, forever shuttling between the formality of the White House and his empty, lonely hotel room.

It had been two months since Leo had finally come to him and admitted to his slide back into his drinking ways. Since then he'd gone right back to being tee-total, but Jed knew full well it was a far harder struggle than his Chief of Staff made it look. Still, at least the whole of the senior staff knew now. He knew it made Leo deeply uncomfortable to have his private struggles on display, but a loving support network around him could only be a good thing.

However much he might protest it.

"I wish you'd stop doing that," he said wryly, as Jed pulled away from him.

"Ah, you're just worried Abbey'll get jealous and beat you up," he jibed playfully.

"It occupies my waking thoughts," said Leo dryly.

"It should; she's got a mean right-hook."

Leo smiled, and looked down, embarrassed as he always was by any display of affection. "So, um... Ellie and Liz are already in New Hampshire?" he asked, transparently changing the subject. Jed let it ride.

"Yeah," he nodded reflectively, and sighed. It would be the first time they'd all been together since... well, since re-election. He shook his head; had it really been that long? What had happened to his family, drifting away from him? Liz had been gone from him for a long long time... Ellie had never truly been his at all. And now even his baby Zoey was leaving the family nest...

"You're a little maudlin this morning," Leo observed.

"My baby girl's getting married tomorrow," Jed reminded him.

"Yeah."

Leo fell silent, perhaps thinking of his own little girl - not so little anymore, was she? Where had the time gone?

And when had he turned into the kind of old man who thought things like 'where had the time gone'?

He looked sideways at Leo.

"You know Mallory and Jenny are gonna be at the wedding?"

"Yeah."

He hesitated. "Is Mallory-?"

"I've spoken to Mallory," said Leo shortly.

"Okay," he nodded. There was a brief silence, and Leo stood up.

"I'll be in my office," he said with a businesslike nod.

"It's a light day," Jed protested. Leo gave him a baleful look.

"Are we doing this again?"

"You work too hard," he said sternly.

"I work just fine."

Jed folded his arms and gave Leo a petulant look. "Why won't you listen to me when I tell you these things?"

"Because - contrary to all appearances - you are not, in actual fact, my mom?"

He tried to hold the look, but it broke into a smile. "Go," he sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Well, thank God for that, Mr. President," Leo smirked, and departed with speed. Jed slipped his hands into his pockets thoughtfully, and watched him go.

Rustle.

Rustle, rustle, rustle.

Silence.

Rustle.

Rustle, rustle.

Silence... Long silence. Long, blessed, blissful silence...

Rustle.

"Josh!"

He appeared in the doorway of his office, affecting to look innocent.

"What?"

Donna glared at him. "Will you quit that?"

"Working?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You are not working."

Josh pouted. "I'm the Deputy Chief of Staff, Donna, I have-"

"A specially cleared schedule, on account of the fact that you have a wedding tomorrow."

"I'm getting married?" he smirked.

Donna snorted expressively.

He gave her an injured look. "It wasn't that funny."

"It really was. Josh; the president's youngest daughter is getting married in less than thirty-six hours, the entire senior staff has had its workload shifted, shunted, accelerated and otherwise dumped in order take the weekend off, and shuffling pieces of paper around your desk does not count as work."

Josh visibly deflated. "I'm organising," he tried. Donna snorted again, louder.

"Yeah," she said, elongating the sound into one long syllable of sarcasm.

Josh bounced on the balls of his feet. "Donna, I have nothing to do," he said helplessly.

She placed her hands on her hips. "You're the best man. You know what you have to do."

He grinned. "Just be myself?"

"You have to finish writing your speech."

Josh slipped his hands into his pockets, and bounced some more. "When you say 'finish'... am I right in thinking that would imply me having actually, you know, started it?"

"It's not done?" she demanded incredulously.

"I'm a busy man," he said defensively.

Donna gave him an accusing look. "You said you were working on it."

"I may have overstated the case a little," Josh allowed.

"Josh, have you done anything?"

"I'm thinking it will probably involve Zoey, Charlie... possibly some good wishes of some kind..." he suggested dryly.

"Get Sam and Toby to help you," she commanded.

"I can do it!" he insisted.

"Get them to help you!"

"I think I can write my own speech, Donnatella," Josh said, placing his hands on his hips and striking a self-satisfied pose.

Donna just sighed, and lowered her face despairingly against the desk.

It was going to be one of those days.