cross-posting my existing work from ao3:

"Madam Vice President, we need you to come with us, please."

Agents surrounded Donna before she had a chance to take a breath. "What's happening?"

"Ma'am, this way." They marched her out of the office, leaving a bewildered Senator Young behind her, and led her out the building. She reached for the head of her detail.

"Steve, what's going on?"

"You're needed at the White House immediately."

Her blood ran cold. "Josh?"

"We don't know anything, ma'am."

She scrambled for her cell and dialled Josh's number, but there was no answer, and by the fourth ring they were approaching the Oval Office from the south lawn, and she had no information at all.

"Donna!" She was barely inside when she saw him, frantically rushing for her, brushing agents aside to hug her. "You know what's happening?"

"Not a clue. Josh, the kids?"

"They're fine. They're okay, they're in my office with Agent Michaels, I was just with them. Can somebody please tell us what's going on?" he added, whirling around to face Steve. From behind him, in marched the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, looking pale and drawn.

"Mr Lyman, please take this." He pressed a bible into Josh's hands. "Madam Vice President, rest your left hand on the bible-"

"Let me talk to the President," she demanded. "What the hell is happening?"

"Raise your right hand and repeat after me."

"What is this, a coup d'état? Let me talk to Sam!"

"President Seaborn is dead."

The bible fell to the floor.

"No," Donna whispered, "that can't be right." She reached out for Josh, grabbed his arm, clung tightly. Somewhere in her peripheral vision, someone bent down and picked up the bible.

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

"No, listen, it can't be right. Is - are you certain?"

"He was shot through the window of his hotel room."

"Oh, God," she whispered, sinking to the couch.

"Daisy," Josh said, suddenly sitting beside her, his voice hoarse. "And the boys, they were there, too."

"Mrs Seaborn and her sons are unhurt. A Secret Service agent was killed, as was the President's body-man."

Donna thought of Lukas, twenty years old, full of hope, full of plans for his life. He didn't deserve this.

"Ma'am, we need to swear you in immediately."

"Okay," she said quietly. "Josh?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he said, his voice strained, "yeah. I know. Give me that thing." He stuck out his hand and the bible was pressed into it. "Okay."

Donna realised she was trembling as she pressed her hand onto it. She kept her eyes on Josh, and he stared back, trying, she saw, to give her a smile, but it was weak and forced. Still, he gave her a slow, firm nod. She could do this.

"Repeat after me," Chief Justice Himmel said. "I, Donnatella Aisling Moss Lyman…"

"I," she answered, her voice steady and grave, "Donnatella Aisling Moss Lyman…"

—

Not two hours had passed since her swearing in. As soon as it was over the Oval Office had emptied and left her and Josh to cry in one another's arms. But they were only given five minutes, so they dried their eyes and promised to look after each other later, and Donna had been led to the situation room to handle the security disaster that this had created. The killer, a marine veteran operating with a sniper rifle from across the street, had been killed, but the Secret Service were turned upside down over how he'd managed it, and the security for Donna, her family, and Sam's wife and children was going to be enormous for the foreseeable future. As soon as she was done in the sit room, not quite two hours later, she was whisked off to a press conference, where the country, apparently, had only just been told.

She read a prepared statement from the teleprompter, and there was nothing personal she was expected to say, but that didn't feel right. She took a breath, swallowing the urge to look back to Josh, standing behind her, and continued: "We've lost a great President today, but I hope you'll all join me in remembering Sam Seaborn as a kind, honest, funny, selfless man who gave everything for his country and gave everything for those of us lucky enough to be his friend. He will be sorely missed." She smiled out at the press corps, a small, sad, but sincere smile. "I'll take just a few questions, and then Tamheed will fill you in on the details. Yes, I'm sorry, Sophie, is it?"

"Madam Vice - I'm sorry, Madam President, will you be making any changes to the policy and agenda of this administration?"

"I'll be reviewing policy in the next few days, but I fully intend to finish what President Seaborn started and won't be making any changes to ongoing projects. Aziz?"

"Ma'am, your husband Joshua Lyman served under President Seaborn as Chief of Staff. Will he be asked to step down in order to fulfil the responsibilities of a Presidential spouse?"

"There are no plans to make any changes among the White House staff at this time. Andrew."

"Madam President, it's common knowledge that you started your political career as your husband's assistant and didn't complete college until you were already serving as Chief of Staff to Helen Santos, not to mention that you weren't President Seaborn's initial choice for Vice President. What do you have to say to anyone questioning your qualifications?"

"Andrew, my qualifications include an impeccable Congressional record, a strong majority of yea votes in both the House and the Senate when I was nominated for the Vice Presidency, the full support and friendship of President Seaborn, and if that isn't enough to prove to my critics that I'm qualified for this position, I'd like to refer you to the 25th Amendment. Yes - Tanya?"

Tamheed stepped in before Tanya could speak. "Thank you all, the President has an urgent phonecall waiting. Please direct any further questions to me."

Donna recognised her cue and exited the press room with all the confidence she could muster, hearing Tanya asking the question Tamheed had no doubt anticipated - "Will President Lyman be seeking re-election after completing this term?"

Tamheed was good. Donna was nowhere near ready to answer that question.

When she and Josh arrived again in the Oval, Donna found that she did indeed have a phonecall waiting. Sam's DCoS, Violet, had been with him when it happened, and injured in the gunfire, so Donna had asked them to have her call after she'd been treated. Josh left her to it, stepping outside to call Alice, Sam's daughter, at Princeton. That done, he went to find the kids and bring them back into his office where they could wait with him for their mom.

Jacqueline was quiet, exhausted by the emotion of the day and content to cuddle up with her dad on the couch, but Noah was older, and - well, he had other considerations.

"When can I call Matt?" he asked. He was subdued, but determined.

"Not tonight," Josh said. "Daisy and the boys aren't taking any calls now."

"They're coming back soon, though, right?"

"They're flying up tomorrow. Alice is driving down from Princeton tonight, she's gonna spend the night with us and we'll figure out the details with Daisy when they've all had a chance to rest."

"I want to call Matt," Noah said again.

"I know, kid." Josh studied his son carefully. He knew it better than Noah realised.

Years ago, he'd walked through a hospital with Sam, showing off his new daughter and plotting her future with the three-year-old Thomas Seaborn. Of course, as the years had gone by, Tommy and Jackie had found one another varying degrees of gross, and he and Sam had given up their plans. A few months ago, however, they'd realised they'd been caught out. Jackie and Tommy were a lost cause - but Noah and Matt were not.

When they bemoaned their ignorance to their wives, Daisy had told them it served them right for their heteronormativity, and they'd all laughed, and talked about how nice it was that they could join their families in matrimony some day, and not discussed optics, and for a few hours it had been easy to be alive.

It sure as hell wasn't easy now.

"Daddy, where's Mom?" Jackie asked softly.

"She's in the Oval Office," he reminded her. "Talking to Violet. And then we're going to sit together and figure out together what we're going to do next."

"Mom's the President now," Noah said. "We don't have a lot of choice."

"Can't she say no?"

"This is why we have Vice Presidents," Noah told his little sister impatiently. "If she was going to say no, she shouldn't have taken office in the first place. Anyway, she's sworn in now."

"Oh," Jackie murmured, and turned her face into Josh's shoulder. "I want Uncle Sam to be President again."

"I know, honey. Me too," he told her, kissing her hair. "It's gonna be okay."

The door opened just then, and Donna stepped through, looking tired. Noah jumped up to hug her, and then Jackie shuffled from Josh's arms so Donna could sit between them.

"How's Violet?" Josh murmured to her, glancing sideways at Jackie. Their little girl was very fond of Violet, and they hadn't tried to explain any more than the most important details of everything that had happened.

"She'll be okay. A little banged up. She's going to fly back with Daisy and the boys tomorrow, and we'll talk." She rested her head on his shoulder, cuddling Jackie close against her side.

"You okay?"

"No," she sighed, "but we'll deal with that later." She sat up then, gently pushing Jackie upwards, but keeping an arm locked securely around her. "Kids, we need to talk about what this is going to mean."

"I know what it means," Noah said. "Secret Service following us around everywhere. We have to move here and Matt and Tommy will have to move somewhere else. And it means we can't do anything that's going to look bad in the press."

"President Bartlet made certain rules about his daughters and the press," Josh said, "and your Uncle Sam and Uncle Matt had the same rules for their kids. We're not going to make any changes. You've only got to worry about what's going to look bad to us, kiddo, that's a whole different ball game."

Noah nodded, relieved, but his jaw was still set. "What if I want to discuss issues? If I'm going to have a spotlight, can't I care about politics?"

Donna and Josh exchanged a look. "Of course you can, honey," Donna said, "but we don't want you put under a microscope. We don't want you talking to the press without talking to me or your dad first. We'll be making that clear with your Secret Service detail, too."

"It's great that you want to get involved," Josh said, "we're proud of you. But you've got to be careful not to undermine your mom's policies."

"I get it."

Donna smiled at him. "We'll talk sometime about this. For now, we're just going to worry about the immediate future."

"Is there anything you guys want to ask us?" Josh said, and the kids shook their heads.

"I'm going to be very busy for the next few days," Donna said, "and so is your dad, and we'll always have time for you, but you need to understand that sometimes I'm going to have to make time for the President of France as well, you can't be in and out of the Oval like you were in the Eisenhower office. You want to come see me, you might have to wait a little while sometimes."

"We're not kicking Matt and Tommy and Alice out of the White House, are we?"

"Absolutely not. We're going to sleep in our usual guest rooms in the residence tonight and tomorrow, and your dad and I will talk with Daisy when she's had time for a good night's sleep. But they'll be staying here as long as they want to. Till the end of the term if they want to."

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"I was watching the press conference, before."

Donna smiled at Noah encouragingly. He took a deep breath and continued, "Do you want to run again?"

"I don't know, kid."

—

They didn't get the kids off to bed until after eleven, and then sat up comforting Alice for another hour before she decided it was really time to go to bed. When she was gone, Josh and Donna retired to their own room at last, exhausted, but not ready to sleep. For a few minutes they just sat together in silence on the bed, holding one another. Before long the tears began to flow again, and they wept together until they were hoarse.

"Sam," Josh whispered in her shoulder, and she trembled. "It's not right," he continued, clinging onto her. "It's not right."

"Not Sam," she agreed, her face pressed into his shirt and her hands clinging onto his hair.

They remained like that a while longer.

"I can't run this country without him. I can't do it."

"Donna." Josh pushed her back a little, gently, so he could look her in the eye. "This is the whole point of having a vice president. Sam knew exactly what he was doing when he picked you."

"I was supposed to support him and his decisions. I shouldn't be making any of my own. The hell do I know about national security?"

"More than Sam did when he took office. More than Bartlet and Santos did. It's okay if it takes a little time, you know?"

"I'm not prepared for this. Most presidents have two months of transition to get ready for it. Hell, Josh, most presidents are elected."

"You were elected."

"Not the first time, I wasn't. And the second time they'd have voted in a Communist if his name happened to be under Sam's."

"Donna. You can do this."

"Half of Congress and most of the Senate want to see me fail."

"No, they don't. Nobody wants to see you fail. And if they did, they'll be disappointed."

She shifted in his arms to rest her head on his shoulder. "Josh, I know you were getting ready to step down, but I really need you on my team here."

"I serve at the pleasure of the President," he told her, winking, and making her laugh, briefly. "But I don't know if it might seem like - you know half of the Republican Party thinks I'm pulling your strings. Don't you think having me as your Chief of Staff will reinforce that?"

"What, you think they'll change their minds if I don't? You know this better than anyone. I'd be an idiot not to have you with me. And I'll feel that much safer, Josh, if I know it's you who has my back."

—

Donna and Josh were called to the situation room at six-thirty the next morning. She listened and understood and instructed, giving off confidence, boldness, never once looking to Josh for guidance, but all she really wanted to do was go home and hide under her bedsheets for two more years. This was for Sam, she reminded herself, she was doing this for Sam, and damn if she wasn't going to do it well.

The meeting ran for two hours, and when she arrived at the Oval Josh's assistant handed her a call sheet longer than she'd ever seen, hundreds if not thousands of names who had called to offer their condolences.

"The last six wanted to offer congratulations," Stella told her, and she shivered.

"We won't be returning those calls," she said, and Stella nodded, looking a little relieved. "Could you find Josh and Alice? I'll never be able to go through these myself, and I'm sure Alice can tell me which calls her mother would want to return when she gets back. Thank you," she added as Stella disappeared, and sank into Sam's chair.

Her chair, she corrected herself. That was something she would have to get used to. It was the first time, actually, that she'd had a chance to just be in the Oval. She'd wanted this job for a while now, but never, never like this.

She ought to go through Sam's effects. It felt like prying, but she had to do it; anything might be in the desk. So she opened up drawers and started working her way through the papers. It was mostly pretty straightforward: national security reports, and federal agency reports, and one or two things she had to raise her eyebrows at, because it implied that Sam might have given orders she'd never have thought he could. Now that she thought about it, she could remember him coming to her one day, about a year into his time in office, when she'd been vice president just a few months, and telling her, vaguely, that the decisions were getting harder. Occasionally there had been times he'd been unable to talk about his day. Would she have to make that kind of decision too?

At the bottom of the pile was a ribbon-bound package of four thick envelopes marked for Daisy, Alice, Matt and Tommy, which she put to one side with a quiet sigh, and beneath that bundle was a tiny safe. Suddenly Donna remembered the day of her swearing in, the first one, when the Senate voted on her appointment as Vice President. She and Josh had spent the evening having dinner and a late drink with Sam and Daisy, and talked about old times - it had become a habit, over the years, for them to spend the evening together on that date - and at the end of the night Sam had pulled her aside and whispered to her a word that she was never to repeat to anyone, even Josh, and that she would only need it if she ever took his desk. He'd wrapped up with his trademark "don't worry about it" which would have worried her if she hadn't been so damn tired, but she'd made sure to remember the word. And if she turned the letters into numbers - the safe popped open under her fingers, and inside lay a single fat envelope, sealed in wax. Donna, announced Sam's elegant script.

Certain pages, she dropped into the shredder behind the desk as soon as she'd read them. In fact, it was probably most of the pages. Most were pretty much as expected, notes on security - some she was unsurprised by, others that completely threw her off. To see Sam's hand telling her some of the things he had done in this office, and some of the things she would have to do. It made her feel a little sick, but she pushed the feeling aside. She was going to have to get used to it.

Other pages were worse. There was the story, written only a few days after her swearing in, of her predecessor's betrayal of Sam. Jack Wallace, she remembered, had been undermining Sam's authority almost from day one, but she had never known it had reached the extent Sam spoke of, an insane plot to impeach him and seize power. It was insane; if it wasn't right there in Sam's own handwriting, and if it weren't for the numerous discussions over her own family meals about Wallace's power trip, she wouldn't have believed it. Nominate a VP you trust, Sam wrote, and watch your back.

Finally came a letter dated just two months ago. She recognised the day: the anniversary of her swearing-in. She and Josh and the kids always had dinner with Sam's family on that date.

Donna,he'd written,

It's come around again, and you're one year closer to never having to read these. If you do, there's only one reason, so I'm sorry. I know you must be feeling pretty overwhelmed right now. I suspect you might even be doubting yourself. Don't. I asked you to stand behind me because I know you'll have my back. You're going to be a great President, and I hope it'll be in 2031 and that I can be there to see it, but if it's not, I want you to know I'm proud of you, and I'm so grateful to serve with you. You know, you have the highest approval rating of a Democratic VP in fifty years, you're doing such great things, and the public has enormous faith in you. I can't help remembering Bartlet and Hoynes, Bartlet and Russell, Santos and Baker, even myself and Wallace. I think you and I have made a pretty good team, don't you?

I've left letters for Daisy and the kids out in the desk drawer, but I wanted to put this in the safe, because having Republicans in charge of the country for eight years apparently dragged it back fifty. So - Matt. I haven't told him I know all about him and Noah. Would you tell those boys how much I love them, how proud I am?

Tell Josh I love him. Tell him the President has the power to fix baseball games, and I've been setting up the Mets to lose for years just to mess with him. (That's not true, they're screwing up every season all on their own, but if they start to actually win once you're in power, the country would never suspect a thing.) And give my love to the kids.

You're going to do great. When I nominated you to Congress I told them it wasn't to do you or Josh any favours - if I wanted that I'd let you retire - but it was because I wanted the country to be protected, and be in the safest possible position. America's going to be safe in your hands. So be confident, be decisive, be compassionate, just be you. You'll be a great President. Don't be afraid.

Remember I love you very much, and I believe in you completely.
Sam.

Well, great. Now she was crying again. Thanks, Sam.

Inexplicably she laughed aloud through her tears. "Yeah," she whispered down to the letter, "thanks, Sam."