Josh entered the Oval Office once more. Josiah Bartlet, President of the United States was sitting behind his desk, reading something. Josh couldn't even fathom what he was reading, this day being the last day of his boss.
"I'm drafting a letter to my successor, Josh," President Bartlet told him as if he had been reading his mind.
"And what is in that letter, sir?" Josh asked, only slightly worried.
"Nothing more and nothing less than what my predecessor wrote me," Jed Bartlet answered and then turned his head to Josh. "Why are you here, Mr. Lyman? Shouldn't you be out there, celebrating with your friends?"
"I thought I would ask you something, sir, if that's okay with you, of course," Josh babbled nervously. Now, he had the attention of the president.
"Well, sir, I'm a bit nervous about my future. What about you?" he asked bluntly.
The president chuckled and then looked at Josh with a tenderness in his eyes that Josh only saw when his boss looked at his daughters.
"Well, Josh, don't you think that I deserved my rest?" he asked, a slight smile playing in the corner of his mouth.
"Well, sir, I cannot imagine you to sit around and knit," Josh made a smart-ass comment.
The president chuckled again, and put down his pen. He saw that Josh wouldn't come to the point in the near future, so he might as well put off writing the letter.
"Josh, what do you have on mind? I thought everything was okay with your future. You have a great future ahead of yourself," he tried to reassure the younger man, the man he loved like a son he never had.
"Thank you, sir, for trying to reassure me," Josh said, almost absent-mindedly.
"But it's not working," the president assumed.
"No, sir, sorry," Josh apologized.
"What can I do to help you?" Jed Bartlet asked him, after studying his senior aide.
"You could tell me some trivia about the White House, sir," Josh suggested with a rather lame smile, that didn't reach his eyes.
"Well, my son, you were, are and will always be bored with my trivia, so unless you tell me what is wrong with you in this minute, I'm inclined to call in the Secret Service and tell them that someone either abducted the real Joshua Lyman or took possession of his body," President Bartlet told Josh, without even blinking.
Josh's head dropped and he hid his face in the palms of his hands. Then, with a new determination in his eyes, he looked at the older man and took a deep breath.
"Fine, then I'm going to tell you some trivia," he said in a tone that wasn't quite agreeable with the president, but he forgave Josh because he knew that something was on the man's mind.
"Fine, fire away, Josh," he said and leaned back in his chair.
"Did you know sir, that there are exactly fifteen Donatella Mosses in the United States?" Josh asked the president.
We are getting there, the president thought and suppressed a chuckle.
"No, I didn't know that, Josh," he answered and then looked at Josh expectantly.
"Well, there are. Only one lives in the D.C. though."
"That's a relief to know," the president inserted but then nodded, after seeing Josh's face. "Go on, tell me more."
"Do you know how many times a day does Donna answer my phone, sir? Guess how many times, sir!" Josh demanded.
"I don't know, Josh. Maybe fourteen-fifteen times?"
"On a slow day, sir, on a slow day. On an average day she answers the phone twenty-five times and picks up the receiver over all around forty-two times," Josh babbled on. "And do you know how many times a day I yell her name, sir?"
"No, Josh, but I think I'm ready to know," the president said, not being able to suppress the chuckle anymore.
"Well, sir, forty to fifty times a day, forty to fifty times," he repeated. "And do you know how many times a day I tell her that she is fired?"
"I'm glad she knows that you don't mean it, Josh," the president said, evading answering the question.
"Yes, sir, I'm glad about that too, 'cause I don't know how I would survive a day without her," Josh confessed to the President of the United States.
"And how many times a day do you tell her that?" President Bartlet asked, his tone suddenly heavy with solemnity.
"That's the real shame, sir, not once, not once," Josh repeated again, and then looked up at the surrogate father he always saw in Jed Bartlet, ever since that talk in that airport lounge on Election Night.
"Well, Josh, I guess then, it's time to tell her," President Bartlet told him.
"Yes, sir, I think too that it's time to tell her. Thank you, sir. For everything," he said, stood up and wanted to leave the room.
"Josh?" the president called after him.
"Yes, sir?" Josh asked back.
"Make sure to visit us with Donna one day. I would love to talk to both of you."
"Yes, sir, we're definitely going to visit you," Josh said. "I'll take care of that," he added and then stepped out of the office.
"Thank you, Josh. For everything," President Bartlet said to no one in particular and then returned to his letter. He sighed and then threw the letter into the wastepaper basket. He was ready to break a tradition.