Author's Note: Hey everybody! Christmas is really barreling down on us now, do you have all your shopping done? If so, you are in better shape than I am! Today was insanely busy because I spent most of the day doing things with the in-laws, then spent almost two hours of my precious writing time on a story that I realized belatedly is not actually a Christmas story. You'll see it eventually, but today I had to set it aside and start over from scratch! So today's story is a quickie, churned out in haste but with great affection, and I hope that you all enjoy it.

…...

There was no Christmas party that year in the West Wing; with the hearings hanging over everyone's heads like particularly unpleasant mistletoe, there just wasn't a lot of holiday spirit to go around. Nonetheless, Carol elected to throw her own apartment open for a Christmas get together on the twenty-third after work, BYOB and snacks to share, eggnog and cookies provided. She drafted Donna to help, partially because Donna was hell on wheels when it came to planning anything, and partially because Carol was tired of seeing her friend looking so depressed. Donna hadn't been herself for ages now, since the investigation had started and she'd had that blowup with Josh over dating a Republican on House Oversight (word got around), and Josh panting after an attractive lobbyist wasn't helping at all. Everybody needed a party.

The timing turned out to be especially fortuitous, since in a fit of holiday whateverness, the Congressional committee had suspended the hearings early for the holidays, leaving everyone with two weeks to catch their breath before it all started again. CJ let Carol go early to start preparing, and by the time people started arriving, the apartment smelled like hot cinnamon cider and peppy Christmas music was playing. The senior assistants were all as prompt as their bosses allowed, all of them bringing something delicious and/or alcoholic to share around. After four years of parties, they had this down to a science. When you worked hours like the White House required, even relaxing had to be strategized and organized, whether it was a night at a bar, a birthday party in a barn, or a Christmas get-together in a third-floor walk-up.

The senior staff members were a lot less reliable than their subordinates, and Carol hadn't been sure whether to expect any of them to show up. She'd mostly invited them for form and because they needed a break too than out of any hope they'd attend, but eventually CJ arrived with Sam and Toby in tow, all of them looking exhausted and a little unsure of their welcome at what was essentially a lower-decks party. Each of them brought the requisite alcohol, though, and Toby had secured a large pumpkin pie from somewhere, while Sam held onto the whipped cream. It was a good enough entry ticket for anybody. Things warmed up after just a couple minutes of awkwardness, and then it was almost like the last days of the campaign again, when there really wasn't that much rank or status, just a whole lot of dedicated people trying to relax from their labors for a few precious hours. Unlike the campaign, everybody had slept relatively recently, and there were no interminable bus rides to look forward to tomorrow. That was a definite improvement.

By eight pm, the apartment was pretty much at its comfortable capacity, and the booze was flowing freely enough to put everybody in a good mood. After escaping from an impromptu Mannheim Steamroller dance party in the kitchen, Donna organized everyone for a white elephant gift exchange consisting entirely of items she and Carol had found at the Goodwill and wrapped in pretty packages. Toby seemed entirely baffled by the entire thing, and Ed and Bonnie nearly came to blows over possession of a novelty apron that read "Hot Stuff Coming Through," but overall it was a great success. Sam was declared the winner by general acclaim when he put on his new "Mrs. Claus" tiara and volunteered to get drink refills.

Carol got up to help as well, stirring the cider in the kitchen as she tried to decide whether the party was advanced enough yet for the Hawaiian Punch with vodka that was her emergency backup for when the eggnog ran out. She'd settled on "probably" by the time she noticed Donna standing outside on the tiny balcony. She went out as well, the two of them taking up pretty much every inch of space once the door was shut. "It's a good party," she commented.

Donna looked over and smiled. "It really is. I think everybody needed some fun right about now. It's been a rough year."

"They've all been rough years so far," Carol pointed out ruefully. "I think we need more parties."

"You're probably right about that," Donna allowed.

"You know, I understand needing some fresh air, but it's about twenty degrees out here," Carol went on, leaning against the balcony rail. "Are you looking for somebody?"

Donna looked away. "No, not really." She wasn't a bad liar, but she was also two eggnogs in already, and that was almost as good as truth serum.

"He was pretty crazy with whatever came up today during the hearings," Carol offered cautiously. "He might just be running late."

"No," Donna shook her head, not bothering to prevaricate further. "He'd have come with CJ and the guys if he were coming. It's not a big deal." Carol just cocked her head and waited, a technique she'd seen CJ use to devastating effect a hundred times. It was like magic. "It's just I'm worried," Donna admitted quietly. "There's been so much stress, and today was even worse than usual, and this time last year..." She trailed off, unable or unwilling to say any more.

Carol understood that; she wasn't privy to most of what had gone on with Josh last Christmas, but rumors flew faster than reindeer and everybody in the West Wing knew something was the matter with the Deputy Chief of Staff. He'd started getting better after the new year, but if something about the holidays put him on edge, she could certainly see Donna worrying about a repeat performance. "Do you want to call him? You can use my bedroom."

For a moment Donna looked tempted, then she shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I'm not his mom, I can't be checking in on him all the time."

Carol gave her a look that was frankly skeptical, but let it go. "Do you want to go inside and have another drink?"

"Yep, that sounds really good." They slipped back into the apartment, only to be nearly bowled over by Ginger as she barreled past, yelling "It's caroling time, bitches!" Apparently an expedition had been organized in the few minutes Carol had been away, with a suggestion of Christmas-themed karaoke turning into something much bigger and more ambitious. She tagged along with, concerned that somebody might try something that would violate her lease or earn the eternal enmity of her neighbors.

Luckily Carol lived in an apartment building, so the mayhem was mostly contained to a delirious and loud trip up and down the hallway and one stairwell while everyone tried to settle on a song that they all knew most of the words to. The entire assembled group managed to sing one almost-tuneful rendition of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer on the sidewalk outside the building before realizing how cold it was and returning to the building for more hot cider and A Christmas Story on the television. The Hawaiian Punch came out and was shared around while people told old stories from the campaign and the first year in office. Carol caught Ginger and Larry making out behind the Christmas tree and sent them home with a warning not to do anything that would cause any news stories tomorrow while she and CJ were hungover, or they would live to regret it.

Before they left though, and before anybody else started trickling home, Carol felt it her duty to make some kind of toast. She stood in the center of the living room and raised her glass until everyone noticed her. "I just wanted to thank everybody for coming tonight," she began, "you've made this last-minute get-together way more than the sum of its parts. A lot of things about this year have sucked royally," and she got a chorus of agreement for that one, "but we're still in the White House, doing what we love to do, and doing it better than anybody else could, no matter what any goddamn Republicans say!" Ginger whooped loudly at that, and someone, maybe Donna, whistled. "You are all amazing people, and I feel honored to have you as friends and coworkers. Here's hoping that next year at this time, we can all get together again, maybe this time in the White House while we get ready for four more years!"

There was a chorus of "Hear, hears" and the clinking of glasses, intercut with Toby moaning something about tempting the wrath. CJ nudged him to silence and threw back her drink with expert skill. "Well said!" she told Carol, even as she accepted a refill from Sam. "And we're all lucky to have you as a coworker as well. To a great party, thrown by a good friend!" she offered, raising her glass again. More agreement, more drinking. Carol grinned broadly, warmed all over by the praise. CJ was an excellent boss, she taught Carol something new every day, but she rarely thought to be generous with the compliments. It was nice to hear.

Part of holding a well-organized senior assistant party was knowing when to pack it in for the night, ideally before anybody was too drunk to go home. Margaret was the unofficial arbiter of such things, having an uncanny knack for knowing when somebody was a drink away from getting legless. She began shooing people home around ten-thirty, even as everybody still capable of doing so helped with the cleanup. This part was down to a science as well, with cups and plates disposed of, leftovers wrapped, and beverages capped with a minimum of fuss or effort. Once the departures began, the place cleared out quickly, until just Carol and Donna were left, slumped on the couch and cleaning up the last of Bonnie's mulled wine by drinking it from plastic cups.

"You could go over and talk to him," Carol offered blearily, "Make sure he's okay."

"You know I can't," Donna pouted. "You already told Ginger nobody's allowed to do, you know, anything headachy."

"Yeah, I guess so," Carol agreed with a frown. "Maybe it would be worth the headache."

"You say that cause you're drunk now," Donna advised her morosely. "I can tell because drunk me agrees with you, but Drunk Donna makes terrible decisions."

"We could go out and pick up some randos instead," Carol suggested. "I haven't gotten any anything since before last Christmas."

"You're lucky," Donna told her. "Sex is nothing but pain and suffering and regret. We should be nuns."

Carol considered the idea. "I think there are several problems with that plan."

"No Methodist nuns," Donna agreed.

"No atheist nuns either."

"That's very short-sighted of them." Donna sighed. "I should probably get going. I'm supposed to feed my roommate's cats while she's gone this week. It was a really good party."

"It was a great party. Thanks for helping with it." Carol got up and helped Donna gather her things, including her crockpot and the fish-shaped coffee mug she'd won in the gift exchange. "Maybe next year," she finally said as Donna headed for the door.

"Who knows," Donna agreed with a wry smile. "Maybe we'll lose."

"Huh," Carol blinked. "I guess that would be the one bright spot. Merry Christmas!"

"See you tomorrow!"

With the last of her guests gone, Carol locked up and went to bed, the scent of cinnamon and eggnog still in the air. All of them needed a few more reasons to celebrate, she decided. Maybe once they got reelected, things would be easier and there'd be more chances to party. It was a nice thought.