Author's Note: And here is the second set of five things, from the second administration. I have tried to be canon-compliant with all of these, but time is unimaginably weird in the second administration, and I was also up until 3 last night watching the beginning of Season 5 so I could write this. So if there are any continuity mistakes, I am sorry about them. :D

July 2003

Charlie was tired, more tired than he thought he'd ever been in his life, and worried, and heartsick. It seemed like he should be celebrating today, or at least sleeping, but he couldn't. Zoey was alive and she was home, and that was an amazing miracle, but she wasn't well, and it ate at him. He'd seen her eyes when she sat in the back of that ambulance, when he mother had hugged her. There'd been something dead in them already, as if part of Zoey had given up and moved on, and hadn't quite come back yet. Oh, she'd pulled it together masterfully. She'd grown up in the bright light of media scrutiny, social lies were second nature and she was good at them. Charlie had watched her smile and wave for the press, watched her bear up bravely for her parents. It had been much harder to hold her hand and watch her pretend for him.

He might have been able to pierce that shell eventually, get past the pretense and actually talk to her, but there just hadn't been enough time. Her mom was jumping at shadows right now, and a White House filled with noise and action was way too much for her. Liz and Ellie had both gone home with their newly-enlarged security details, and Mrs. Bartlet and Zoey were off to the farm with a small army of agents. Charlie wondered if maybe the guy who had talked to Josh ought to talk to Zoey, but it definitely wasn't his place to suggest anything like that. His job was to take care of the president, who'd come down from the Residence this morning looking put-together and ready to work, then stared out the pictures on his desk for nearly ten minutes while Charlie waited and watched him.

"Sir?" he finally asked at long last. President Bartlet didn't move at all for a moment, finally stirring as though coming out of a trance.

"Yes, Charlie?" he asked, his voice distracted.

Charlie abandoned the thought of the daily schedule in his hand, calculated a few ways they could move things around. "Is there anything I can do for you, sir?"

The president's voice was heavy, distracted. "Oh, no, I shouldn't think so, Charlie," he began, then hesitated. "Actually... do you know if Donna is around yet this morning?"

That was a surprising question, but Charlie barely blinked. "Yes sir, I believe she's at her desk. Do you need something?"

"Could you ask Debbie to send her in here, please?" Charlie nodded and stepped out, a few quiet words to Debbie enough to start the ball rolling.

In less than five minutes Donna was walking into the Outer Office, looking mildly puzzled. "Debbie said the president wanted to see me?" she asked Charlie curiously.

"That's right," he agreed, then dropped his voice. "Mrs. Bartlet and Zoey left last night. It's a hard morning. You can go on in." She nodded understanding and walked with him through the door.

President Bartlet had moved out from behind his desk to sit in his favorite of the two wing chairs at the center of the room. He smiled at the two of them as they walked in, but it was a company smile, hearty and a little forced around the edges. "Good morning, Donna! Come sit down. What a way to begin a new year for our country, hmm?"

Donna returned his smile, tentative but genuine as she took a seat on the couch. "Yes sir, we're all very grateful for the way things turned out. It was quite a celebration last night." Charlie fell back to his usual out-of-the-way position at the back of the room; not wanting to intrude, but not about to leave unless made to.

"It occurs to me, Donna, that you and I have never really had a chance to talk about Independence Day, and that's a deficit that must be remedied," the president began. "For instance, do you know the story of Jefferson and Adams on Independence Day, 1826?"

"I know that they were political rivals, sir," Donna offered encouragingly. She knew the story, Charlie could tell right away, but she wasn't about to preempt the president's telling of it.

"Rivals, yes," President Bartlet told her, "but also lifelong friends, and the last two remaining founders of our country. In July of 1826, John Adams was ninety years old..." Charlie stood by and watched as the president unfolded his favorite Independence Day yarn for an attentive audience, and in doing so, gained back some of the animation he'd been missing since Abbey and Zoey left. Donna didn't need to do much more than listen; for now just being present was enough.

January 2004

Donna sat in the bullpen late that evening after everyone had gone home, even after the caterers had packed up and the janitors had come through with their equipment. Staying late had scored her a cellophane-wrapped tray of little leftover sandwiches, sitting forlorn and ignored for the moment in Josh's fridge. She couldn't stop looking through the binders. Thirty-five free people, thirty-five people going home to their families. Thirty-five mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, all of them already in prison too long. And right in the middle of the pack, one young man (god, so young! Still younger tonight than she'd been when she'd joined the campaign) who would never go home. She kept them all in order, Donovan Morrissey in his spot right in the middle, and looked through the stack over and over.

Kandi Holmes was some consolation, Donna looked at her folder longer whenever it came around. She'd been so happy and overwhelmed to finally be free, and to be at the White House on top of that. Her world had been turned around in a single day, and Donna really believed her when she said she was going to make the most of her second chance. Her brother hadn't been willing to let her out of his sight, as though afraid she might disappear again if he closed his eyes or turned away. Donna looked at the family photos and tried to imagine the reunions, the phone calls. She constructed little fantasy stories that probably ignored all sorts of problems that the newly released and their families would face, but just for tonight, she needed that hope.

She heard footsteps in the darkened hallway outside the bullpen, but assumed it was the Secret Service making their periodic sweep. It wasn't until the footsteps drew closer and stopped that she looked up to see the President watching her. Startled, Donna scrambled to her feet. "Mr. President! I'm sorry, I didn't expect anyone else to be here at this hour." She had no idea what time it was, but it was definitely late.

"I could say the same thing," President Bartlet replied, studying her intently. Donna shifted from foot to foot. He was certainly dressed for an evening up in the Residence, brown corduroy slacks and a plaid flannel shirt that would be much more at home on his New Hampshire farm than in the White House. "We don't keep banker's hours here, but this seems a little excessive. Do I need to have another talk with Josh?"

"No sir," She dropped her eyes, but kept them averted from the pile of binders. "Josh cut me loose after the reception, I just wasn't ready to go home yet."

She looked up in time to see him catch sight of the stack, including the one that was still open. Kevin Washington, twenty-five years old, driving a car full of friends through the Quad Cities while one happened to be carrying a large amount of heroin. He had a daughter he'd be meeting for the first time tonight as a free man. Donna knew his story by heart now, knew all of them. The President motioned to her for the binder; she picked it up and handed it to him. He studied the photograph and precis for a moment, then looked at her. "This man is home tonight?"

Donna nodded. "Eric Holmes, the man you spoke to tonight after the speech, helped me confirm that all the pardon recipients were released this afternoon. Part of consideration for clemency was whether they would have someone to take them in if released, so they should all be home by now."

"Then it was a good day's work," he reminded her.

"Yes sir, I know," she murmured, afraid to meet his eyes for fear that she would tear up again. "It was a wonderful and compassionate thing that you did, and all those families are celebrating tonight. I just..." She hesitated, shook her head. "I sometimes wish there was a way to save everyone, even though I know we can't."

Donna wasn't sure what she'd expected to see when she finally looked up to face the president, but she hadn't expected to see her own guilt and uncertainty mirrored in his eyes. "I was going to pardon him in the spring, after the furor had died down," he told her quietly. "I never wanted anyone to get down on their knees and beg me. But if I'd pardoned him now, it would've destroyed everything we were trying to do. Another three or four months..."

"You still saved thirty-five people," Donna reminded him. "And if it draws attention to mandatory minimums and leads to changes in the system, you'll have saved a lot more. Donovan... he made a choice. And I can still see his mother's face, but I know you did the right thing."

President Bartlet reached out and clasped a warm hand on Donna's shoulder. "I did it because of you," he told her soberly, but with a faint smile. "There aren't many people who could turn Josh Lyman all the way around on an issue he's already decided, especially when the politics are going to be difficult. He and Leo were set to give me a run-around on those pardons, but today he came in and argued their case with conviction and eloquence, and I know why. And then you came in yourself and told me what you'd had to listen to and what I needed to hear. Speaking truth to power, Donna," he reminded her. "That's more valuable than you know." He shook his head. "But I am sorry about Donovan."

Donna nodded, her tears finally spilling out, to her minor mortification. "I am too," she managed.

"Ah, hell. C'mere," he told her, drawing her in and enfolding her in a hug. Donna was startled for a moment, then accepted it, closing her eyes and resting her cheek against his shoulder as he patted her back."We did good today."

May 2005

Donna stared with distaste at the jiggling wad of red jello sitting in front of her on her dinner tray. There wasn't much else on the tray; the medications made her nauseous and the IV kept her hydrated, so the jello was really just practice food. She didn't like jello, and she really didn't like this red jello. It was unnerving. There wasn't very much red in her hospital room and she liked that, but it made what was there stand out that much brighter. Maybe if her leg didn't hurt so much it would be easier to eat, but right now it ached in throbbing waves that crashed up through her pelvis and pooled in her abdomen like sickness. There was no room for jello. That thought was kind of funny and she thought about sharing it with her mom, but right now her mom didn't seem to be in a very jokey mood, possibly because she was not hooked up to the morphine drip the way that Donna was. Donna had just pressed the morphine clicker before beginning to contemplate this jello, and it seemed like it was starting to work. She'd pressed it a few more times for good measure.

Josh walked in, which was surprising because she hadn't noticed him leave. She usually noticed everything about Josh. She noticed the way he was behaving around Colin, and that was interesting. He almost acted like he was jealous, like he wanted Colin not to be there. Donna thought it would be okay if Josh told Colin to go away. It would definitely prove... something. Something good. Right now Josh had a phone in his hand and was talking into it. "Yes, she's awake, but she's a little out of it still... no, she's eating jello. Okay. Okay. Yes sir, thank you. I will." He sat down on the edge of the bed next to Donna's uninjured leg and handed her the phone. "It's for you."

Donna traded Josh her spoon for the phone, which he held onto with a mildly bemused expression. "Hello?" she said curiously into the phone. It came out just a tiny bit slurred.

"Hello, Donnatella, it's good to hear your voice." Donna unconsciously tried to straighten up when she heard President Bartlet on the line, but all the hurting places made that too difficult, so she just scrabbled around ineffectually for a second. "How are you feeling? Are they treating you all right in that hospital?"

"It hurts," she told him with a pout, then belatedly remembered to add "sir." "My leg hurts a lot, and my chest. They had to do some surgeries, and I can't move my leg or lay down flat. I had a pulmonary embolism, like the one that Josh's dad died from." She looked up and met Josh's eyes. "But they fixed it."

"Yes, I heard about that," the president replied, his voice gentle. "You've had a lot of people very worried about you, young lady. I hope you're listening to your doctors over there."

"They gave me red jello," she complained. "It's nasty."

He laughed, and that made her smile too, even though everything still hurt. "Well, you have my permission not to eat the jello, and you can tell them I said so. But you have to listen to them on the rest. I need you back here at the White House as soon as you're ready."

"Okay," Donna agreed. "I'll make Josh eat it instead. I miss you too, sir. Here's Josh." She shoved the phone back into Josh's surprised hands and yawned. With the morphine starting to work and a presidential permission slip to avoid her jello, it seemed like a good time for a little nap. Josh would take care of whatever needed to be done.

December 2005

Jed looked up from his desk as the door from the Outer Office opened. "Donna Moss, sir," Debbie announced, holding the door open to admit the former senior assistant. Donna walked a little differently since coming back, even when she'd finally escaped the crutches and the cane. A little bit more deliberately, a little more carefully. Right now she walked a little slower as well, as though not sure she belonged standing in this building or this office anymore, or as though she dreaded what was coming once she stepped onto the blue presidential carpeting.

Usually Donna reminded him of his daughter Liz, opinionated and stubborn in the best ways, ready to overcome any setback or obstacle by sheer tenacity. Today, though, her head was tilted down as she stood in front of him and he could see Ellie in her, all that uncertainty and unease. Normally he would've waved her to the sofa and joined her in the chair, but getting up was not currently the easy production he liked it to be. Curtis was hovering outside, but Jed preferred not to be manhandled around his own office like a giant doll whenever possible. So instead he pointed her to the wooden-backed chair next to his own desk.

"So, Donnatella," he began conversationally as she seated herself, "I arrived back from my trip to China two days ago, only to be informed of some precipitous staffing changes during my absence. I had to make some calls, in fact, to learn where you were at all. I believe that two weeks notice is traditional, indeed, all but obligatory in these circumstances?"

His gentle chiding had the desired effect, Donna raised her chin and straightened her back, ready to defend herself even now. "Sir, I had nearly four weeks accrued vacation time that I hadn't taken. I traded it in lieu of notice and provided detailed written instructions for my replacement. I'm sure that as soon as a new assistant is hired, she or he will have no trouble-"

"Donna." He waved her to silence. "I have no doubt that your departure was as thoroughly organized and well-planned as any state dinner I've ever had to sit through or military strike I've had to order. My real question is why you chose to leave that way, so suddenly, after all these years?"

She brushed her hair away from her face with the side of one hand, smiling a quick, self-deprecating smile. "I know it seems sudden, and maybe a little bit unhinged, but I was ready for a change. My years working in this White House have been the best years of my life, and it's been an honor and a privilege to serve your administration, but my job wasn't what I wanted anymore. It was making me unhappy, and it was time to leave."

Jed considered her silently for a moment. Eight years spent in close proximity to people, you picked up on a number of things about them. There were things he understood about Donna, and about her boss, that neither of the pair would ever have admitted out loud. "Everyone's entitled to make changes in their lives," he agreed, "but the last time I checked, there are something like eleven hundred jobs in the White House, and you're capable of doing most of them. A transfer wouldn't have sufficed?"

"I really wanted a new start, sir." She looked him in the eye, and he could see a glimpse of the heartbreak carefully concealed behind a professional demeanor. Whatever had happened, he suspected it was only tangentially related to Donna's job.

Jed wanted to promise to have words with Josh, or to kick his ass if necessary, but that wasn't his place, and he suspected it wasn't what she wanted. It was still hard to resist the impulse. Nobody was allowed to hurt his girls. "So I suppose it's too late to try and lure you back to the glamour and ease of a career in the White House?" he asked instead, keeping his voice light.

"I've already accepted a new job," she told him, cheering up a little bit. "I'll be working with Will Bailey to develop Vice President Russell's campaign. I'm going to be spending most of my time in New Hampshire for the next little while, so I suppose you could say I'll be close by in spirit."

"It's the best place in the world to spend a cold and beautiful winter," he assured her. "Make sure you dress very warmly." She nodded at that. "I know that you and Will are going to do very well by the Vice President. We'll miss having you both."

"Thank you sir." There was a little catch in Donna's voice, but she swallowed it masterfully. "And I just want to say that it really has been an honor, and a true pleasure, to work for you the past seven years-"

"Eight years," he interrupted playfully. "You worked for me during the campaign, too."

Donna grinned a little. "I was volunteering for most of that," she reminded him.

"It was still pretty hard work," he pointed out and made her laugh. "Don't treat this like a goodbye," he advised. "I still have another year as president, I can still haul you into this office anytime I like. And I'll take it very personally if you don't stop by and visit sometimes when the campaign brings you to town. Not enough people in this building appreciate a good story."

"I'll make sure to remember that, sir," she promised him with a smile.

"Good." He opened his arms and she went into them readily, the hug only a little awkward due to the chair. "Now go be brilliant."

January 2007

Josh shivered as he climbed the steps to the purpose-built dais in front of the Capitol Building. Part of it, the part he would admit to, was that it was cold as hell in DC on January 20th, even in an overcoat and wool suit. The rest of it was pure nerves and excitement. This was his third trip up these stairs, but the thrill hadn't abated a bit. Next to him, Donna's hand was shaking a little in his grip, and he was willing to bet she wasn't that cold. This was her first time on the dais; even indispensable assistants didn't warrant a place at the front of the crowd. "Looks a little different from this angle, huh?" he murmured in her ear.

She turned to him, her eyes alight with excitement and joy. "This is amazing," she told him gleefully. "I can't believe we're actually here doing this!"

"It only gets realer from here," he promised. "We've still got to go get into our offices after this, that should bring reality crashing back nicely. I wonder if those trick nails we used on Amy are still in your new office..." She gave him an outraged laugh and shoved him in the arm.

"Now now, this is a solemn occasion, not a playground." Josh and Donna both snapped to attention and turned around to find President Bartlet behind them, giving them both a quelling look.

Josh risked a glance over at Donna; her alabaster skin was beet red with embarrassment or cold or both. "Sorry, Mr. President," Donna said contritely. "Josh was being horrible and I had to sort him out."

"Hey!" Josh interjected, surprised and indignant. She was supposed to be his partner in crime, here.

"I see," the president replied, nodding gravely. "Somehow I have no doubt of that. Joshua, you're moving into a very important and influential role in the new administration. You need someone to keep you in line, and I'm sure Donna is up to the task, even from the East Wing. God knows Abbey never had much trouble doing it with me," he observed wryly. Donna beamed at him.

"I don't think Donna will have any trouble either, sir," Josh managed. He realized he had no idea how much the president knew about... anything really, when it came to him and Donna. He'd been too busy with transition to make many social visits to the White House, and he suddenly regretted it a little.

"Not that she won't have her hands full with her own responsibilities," President Bartlet added. "Chief of Staff to the First Lady's a more important job than most people understand. If things aren't going well in the East Wing, they won't go well in the West Wing either," he advised. "The two of you are going to have to work closely together. I suspect that won't be too much of a problem." He looked down, and Josh realized he was looking at their still-clasped hands. "And you should both be rested up after your vacation. How did you like Hawaii?" he asked Donna.

"It was wonderful," Donna assured him, squeezing Josh's hand lightly and looking in his direction. "Everything I'd hoped." Josh suspected that his smile was by now looking a little goofy, but he didn't really care, even in front of all these people. It had been everything he'd hoped, too.

"That's good." The president's face was warm as he regarded the two of them. "Both of you are at the start of an amazing journey. Take care of each other, and remember to take the time to be together." He leaned in and hugged Donna, kissing her on the cheek. "Abbey and I are very proud of you." Donna's eyes were wet when she pulled back, but Josh didn't think he'd ever seen her smile so bright. "And Leo was incredibly proud of you," he told Josh, grasping him at hand and elbow. "He'd be even prouder today."

Josh nodded and pursed his lips tightly, blinking back a couple of errant tears. "Thank you, Mr. President," he managed.

"Oh, and Josh," President Bartlet continued, leaning in confidentially, "I may not have the 82nd Airborne at my command anymore, but I'm still a powerful and influential man. You take very good care of her, all right?"

"Yes sir," Josh agreed, torn between amusement and a little bit of fear.

Donna laughed and looped her arm through Josh's. "I'll make sure he does," she promised.

"Well that's all right, then. I suppose we'd all better find our seats and get this show on the road. They're not waiting on my pleasure any longer around here, as if they ever did." The president nodded at them both, then headed off toward the front row of seats where his wife was already waiting for him.

Josh kept hold of Donna's arm as they found their seats and sat down, safely anonymous in the throng at the back of the dais. He leaned in close as the music began to play. "So what do you think, more or less scary than meeting your actual dad in Wisconsin?" he joked.

"My dad is a claims adjuster," Donna pointed out with a chuckle. "And you weren't dating me then. But you also had to meet my three brothers."

He tightened his fingers around hers. "Yeah, good point. We'll call it a wash."