"Is he in?" Charlie poked his head into the outer office, still halfway expecting to see Margaret fluttering about, nagging Leo.
The question was more of a greeting than an inquiry, though. Of course Josh was in. Josh was always in these days. Charlie wondered how often the Chief of Staff actually made it home.
"Hey, Man," Charlie stood in the doorway. "Wanna grab a bite and catch the baseball game?"
"No time," Josh moved a stack of folders, not even looking up from his desk.
"You can't honestly tell me that you don't have time for dinner. I've worked in this building almost as long as you have, and I know you're busy, but you have to eat."
"I'm fine, Charlie."
"Yeah, you keep saying that, but I don't think you are fine. You gotta slow down, man. Look, I've got a six pack and a pizza from Gianni's. It's half supreme and half cheese because even though you may be one do the most powerful people in Washington, you still eat like a stubborn 6 year old."
Josh's eyebrows shot up as he glanced over to Charlie, who was standing his ground in the doorway with the pizza box and Sam Adams.
"Alright, come in," Josh grumbled, still digging around on his desk.
Charlie strode into the room and sat the pizza down on Josh's table, grabbing the remote off of his desk and flipping over to the Mets/ Nationals game.
"What are you looking for, anyway?"
"I was working on something earlier," Josh muttered, "I need to finish reading a briefing memo."
"Can you just sit down for a minute? Do you think the spotted owl is going to go extinct if you eat dinner?" Charlie's irritation at his friend's inability to put his job on hold was beginning to show through.
"One inning," Josh warned as he made his way to the table. "One." If it was anyone but Charlie, Josh would have chased them out of the office by now.
"So," Josh began somewhat awkwardly, knowing that he was one misstep away from Charlie calling Abbey Bartlet. And that, Josh thought, was a scolding he didn't need right now. "How ya been?"
"I've been fine," Charlie began. "But I don't think the same can be said about you."
"You going to lecture me or drink a beer?" Josh's fuse was unusually short these days, and even he wasn't always sure when he was going to snap at someone.
Charlie studied him for a moment before popping the top off of a bottle and sitting back in a chair, loosening his tie.
"Make yourself at home," Josh noted, though he was somewhat relieved that at least Charlie was still comfortable around him. He'd come to view the former President's body man as a surrogate little brother and though they didn't see much of one another, Josh was glad to have Charlie around.
As Josh flopped down on the couch where he'd slept the majority of nights over the last year, he realized just how exhausted he was.
The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Charlie spoke. "Mets are awful this year."
Josh raised his eyebrows and turned to look at him. "They're just in a rebuilding phase. Besides, they're better than the Nationals. Washington has lost 4 of the last 6 and-"
The connecting door to The Oval swung open and both men were immediately on their feet.
"Mr. President," Charlie greeted.
"Good Evening, Sir," Josh added.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," Santos began to backpedal. He'd never seen his Chief of Staff in a social situation, though he did know that Josh considered Charlie a friend.
"It's fine," Josh interjected. "Can I help you with something, sir?"
Santos caught the baseball game on TV and then eyed the pizza and beer. "No, uh," he paused for a moment. He'd never socialized with his Chief of Staff. "Helen and the kids are out of town…"
"Would you like to join us, Sir?" Josh could read between the lines, but he was mentally pleading with the President to decline his offer.
"Thought you'd never ask," Santos sat down on the couch, accepting a beer from Charlie and grabbing a slice of pizza. "Nationals fans?" Santos glanced between Josh and Charlie.
"I am, Sir," Charlie supplied. "Josh, however, is a delusional Mets fan."
"Hey, they've got a chance this year. They were in the running for the wild card last season."
"Yeah," Charlie said dryly. "You keep telling yourself that."
"I had no idea you were a baseball fan," Santos remarked.
Josh shrugged his shoulders. Truth be told, he didn't really have any hobbies anymore. He worked non-stop and that was pretty much the only thing that he made time for these days.
"When was the last time you caught a game at Shea?"
"It's been… a while," Josh grumbled.
"I'll bet it has," Charlie remarked. "Talked to Sam lately?"
"No."
"CJ?"
"No."
"Danny? Zoey? President Bartlet?"
"No," Josh grumbled.
Charlie looked at him, asking with his eyes if Josh had any contact with the last name on the list. The one that neither of them dared speak out loud. Donna Moss was still a sore subject for Josh, and Charlie knew it.
Josh stared at the floor, barely shaking his head no in response to his friend's unspoken question.
"That's messed up, man," Charlie added in somewhat of a softer tone. "They're your friends. They're worried about you. Call them back. At least one of them."
Charlie leaned back in his chair again and the three sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of the inning, eventually exchanging pleasant small talk until Charlie excused himself for the night. "I've gotta get going," he stood. "I'm meeting Deanna for breakfast tomorrow. Have a nice evening, Mr. President. Later, Josh."
"Have a good evening," Santos shook Charlie's hand.
"Later, Charlie." Josh remarked.
President Santos leaned forward in his seat on Josh's couch, clasping his hands. He'd come into the Chief of Staff's office with something to say earlier, but the last few hours had really driven his point home. "Josh," he began, "I think we need to discuss a few things."
"Yes, Sir." Josh knew this was coming. The President hadn't raised the issue of Hellhound to date, but it was only a matter of time.
"I heard that the full advanced copies were released to select members of the press today."
"Yes, Sir."
"Anything I need to know?"
"No, Sir. For the most part it's just 320 pages of beltway rumors. Nothing overly damning to the administration from what I've read."
Santos nodded his head. "I'm not sure if I've made myself clear over the last few weeks, Josh. But I want you to know that the White House stands behind you in all of this. You've done nothing but exceed my expectations since we've been in office, and frankly we wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for you. I see the news, I hear what they're saying on the cable shows at night, but make no mistake- your job isn't in jeopardy."
"I appreciate that, Sir. But in all fairness I'm not sure that my being the center of attention for this many news cycles is doing anything to help the administration."
"It'll go away, Josh. They'll see that there's nothing of substance to be said in that book, and they'll lose interest. I do wonder how you're doing with all of this though." Santos was going out on a limb and he knew it. The two had never discussed sports or movies, let alone the Chief of Staff's feelings. "I can't help but to wonder if you need a break, Josh. Just a week or so away from all of this. You work non stop and you haven't so much as taken a day off in over two years. You're churning through assistants, you sleep in your office more than you sleep at home- maybe a break would be good for you."
Josh scowled at the thought. "If I leave now, Sir, the story will be that I'm being sent away. That I'm being pushed out."
"A long weekend, then? A few days, Josh. Lou can tell the gaggle that this has been planned for months. Get out of town. You're entitled to personal time."
"Is this an order, Sir?" Josh wanted to clarify.
"No," Santos quickly responded. "Just an offer. It's not mandatory." Santos stood, ready to call it a night himself.
"Thank you, Mr. President, but I'll pass. I have a lot to do here and I'm fine. Really."
But even Josh wasn't so sure anymore.
When President Santos returned to the residence, Josh took his seat at his desk, pouring over a stack of paperwork that he hadn't yet signed off on. He scribbled his signature where required and made a few additional notes here and there.
He poured over a few briefing memos, underlining what he needed to take away from each one. He no longer trusted anyone to summarize the seemingly endless reading for him, and it consumed the bulk of his time at night.
Flipping through the President's schedule for the rest of the week, Josh couldn't help but to notice that it the set agenda was especially light. He remembered something about the Santos' family coming into town, but he didn't realize the President had effectively cleared his weekend as a result.
Though Josh wasn't the most introspective man in the world, he couldn't avoid the truth about his own lifestyle any longer. This whole debacle with Hellhound's release had forced him to look himself in the mirror. He was working himself into an early grave, and his was miserable and alone in the process. He'd alienated his friends and he hardly remembered how to smile.
Drumming his fingers on his desk for a moment, he mulled over his options, coming to a quick decision and heading up to the residence, waiting for the President in his private study.
Josh glanced around, having only been in this particular room a handful of times. The Santos kept a strict separation of work and home whenever possible.
"Josh? What's going on?" Matt Santos entered the room in blue jeans and a Houston Astros sweatshirt.
"Sorry to disturb you, Sir."
"It's alright," the President waived him off. "What's going on? Something happening in Kazakhstan?"
"No, Sir." Josh moved closer to the desk as Santos took his place in the oversized chair and waited to hear what his Chief of Staff was going to report. "I'd like to reconsider, that is if your offer still stands."
"My offer?"
"Yes," Josh continued. "I think it would be… beneficial… to everyone… if I took a few personal days. You have a light schedule for the remainder of the week and I'm confident that Cliff, Ed and Larry will be able to adequately staff your office. I'll be back in my office on Monday morning and, should you need anything, I can be reached on my Blackberry or summoned back to The White House."
Santos nodded his head. "I think you're making the right decision, Josh. We'll be alright for a few days. Try to relax a bit, get out of town and clear your mind." Even as he was saying it, Santos doubted his Chief of Staff was capable of true relaxation.
"Thank you, Sir." Josh bid the President goodnight and headed home with his detail.
He wasn't sure what he'd do to fill his time over the next four days, but maybe this would be good for him nonetheless.
He entered his dark apartment and tossed his backpack on the table, some of the contents spilling out of the partially open zipper. Glancing over, the cover of Hellhound caught his eye. So many lies. But he couldn't deny that he didn't have the same relationships he once did.
Something broke inside him three years ago and he couldn't help but wonder if there was any hope of fixing it.