Title: "The Lamentable Demise of George" Part 7
Author: Madeleine Mitchell Carr
Email:
Category: General, Josh/Donna
Rating: PG
Summary: Josh, Donna, a chinchilla. General mayhem and confusion. Many misunderstandings ensue. A touch of angst and a pinch of romance.
Sam POV
Spoilers: Post-'Noel'. Glancing references to many other shows, but this has veered pretty much into the realm of the plotless (and pointless)
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Aaron Sorkin and NBC; I'm just borrowing them. Please don't sue me, as I have no money.
Thanks for all the wonderful feedback, guys. I'm thinking of maybe building an extension to accommodate it more comfortably.
Joshua Lyman is my best friend.
There are many things I like about him which have nothing to do with his skill as a politician, his brilliant mind or, God help us, his verbal SAT score. I'll tell you two things about him instead. He often does the wrong thing for the right reason, and he's incredibly loyal to his friends.
Granted, he wasn't very supportive about the Lauren thing (or the Mallory thing, come to think of it), but he has been there for me in the past. He's helped me with stuff that I'm not even going to think about now for fear of appearing, you know, unmanly.
He can also be arrogant, conceited, egotistical, verbose, flippant and plain overpowering but the most irritating thing about him is that he doesn't return the favour. He doesn't let his friends help him.
Do you know what it's like to see your friend suffer the nine circles of hell but be powerless to help? He put his hand through a window rather than let anyone share his pain. (And yes, I do know about that incident, but I'm not revealing my sources).
I want to help. I want to be Virgil to his Dante.
Which would make Donna his Beatrice, I suppose. Guiding him towards the light…
The Divine Comedy not withstanding, I doubt there is anything approaching epic proportions going on in the West Wing today, but I suspect that he could do with some help, and I want to get it right this time. I want to be there for him.
When I went to his office to send him to President Bartlet, there was a bit of an 'atmosphere'. I suspected at first that it was simply embarrassment, as Donna had obviously been fondling his face again. She does that a lot. But then I realised that Josh looked upset and sounded terse, and Donna was positively radiating concern.
I've come to know Donna's worried face well over the past 9 months or so and she was wearing it then.
It transpired (after I had made some sense of Donna's ramblings), that Josh's old roommate from Yale had died. Josh had told me about him over his third beer a couple of years ago and I had forgotten all about him until now. Well who wouldn't? It wasn't as if I'd ever meet the guy, and he sounded weird anyway - sort of mean and rodent-y.
But knowing Josh as I did, and I suspect that I knew him better than even La Bella Donna, he'd find some way to beat himself up about the death of a guy he hadn't seen in years and hadn't liked in the first place anyway.
So, I determined to put my all-wise Virgil-hat on and seek Josh out later. Maybe I could ask him about it casually over a beer or something, in a very guy-like fashion.
Josh found me first.
He's standing in front of me now.
I've suddenly realised that perhaps this isn't a problem that can be solved with a bit of sage advice and a mildly alcoholic beverage.
"Josh, would you like to sit down?"
He does, without a word.
I'm determined to tread carefully, in case he suddenly snaps or something. I also keep a wary eye out for nearby glassware.
"Donna told me about George, Josh, and she implied that she'd just heard the news from you."
"No, no, no" he says, shaking his head vehemently.
I'm thinking: Denial? Hysterical amnesia?
"I remember thinking that there was no way I would tell Donna about George, because she was giving me such a hard time about the Anderson guy."
"Who's Anderson?"
He rolls his eyes at me in an exaggerated fashion
"Et tu Samuel?" He sighs,
"Anderson is a vet."
I'm trying really hard to make sense of this. Maybe there is a connection here that I'm supposed to make, but he's afraid to tell me out loud, so I ask cautiously,
"And, what? Was George in Vietnam?"
He stares at me as though I've grown a second head. Maybe even a third. Then he throws back his head and lets out the loudest guffaw I think I've ever heard him make. He's laughing so hard, the office chair he's sitting on is losing air and he's gradually sinking lower. Tears are streaming down his face.
He doesn't stop for 3 and a half minutes. I know because after the first minute, I started timing him. I thought maybe the doctors might want to know.
He eventually subsides into little hysterical giggles and I feel like crying because my best friend is cracking up right in front of my eyes. Perhaps I wouldn't feel so bad if he would just stop with the laughter.
"Josh, stop laughing".
Giggle, giggle, giggle
"JOSH! STOP!"
That snaps him out of it.
"Sorry, sorry", he manages, wiping at his eyes, "I was just surprised. Your jokes are usually so lame."
He thought I was joking?
"You thought I was joking?"
His eyes start bulging out of his head and for one terrified instant, I think he's having a heart attack until I realise that he's trying to suppress yet another laughter-bout.
"Josh you're scaring me."
He lets out a puff of air and wipes his eyes again.
"Sorry, I realise that you're not used to this sort of reaction", he says, and grins at me wildly. Then he giggles.
"Josh!"
He must realise, belatedly, that I'm serious, because he pulls himself together. Much to my relief.
"Sorry, it's been a really long day"
"It's only half past three."
"I know!" he says, as if that explains everything.
He's threatening to go on another trip to giggle-land. As far as I'm concerned, if he does it that, he's lost his return ticket to Sane City, so I say quickly,
"Is this because you feel guilty?"
Well that sobers him up instantly and I can't help but feel a sort of grim satisfaction. He's also staring at me as though I'm a crazy person. I know, because it's the same expression I've had on my face for the past ten minutes.
"Guilty about what?"
"About George's death."
He narrows his eyes at me and I can almost sense him closing off. I leap for the chink in the door.
"George's death wasn't your fault."
"How do you figure that? Of course it was my fault."
Ah. Progress. I was right about the guilt-trip.
"How could it be your fault?"
He gives me one of his patented 'You're stupid, Sam' looks,
"Because I didn't treat him right and the poor little rat practically flung himself under a car!"
Oh. I've belatedly realised that there's probably more to this story than I realised.
"Suicide?"
That came out as an almost unmanly squeak, so I clear my throat thoroughly.
"Well, more sort of accidental suicide"
"Is there such a thing?"
"Well. I would ask George that, but he's dead, so I can't"
Well, the words are bitter, but he doesn't really sound bitter. Actually he sounds as if he's trying to make a joke. How could that be?
"Josh, when did you last speak to George?"
He looks a little embarrassed, when he answers,
"This morning"
I'm frozen in my chair in shock. He's been in contact with George recently? There is far more to this story than I realised. I also realise that I'm probably under-qualified to help Josh through this emotional quagmire.
"Josh, you could talk to someone about this, you know"
I mean Stanley, and I hope he understands that too.
He looks a little surprised, then laughs
"Ha! No way, that's what got me into this situation in the first place!"
Things must be bad if he's even avoiding therapy. While I'm processing this, Josh stands.
"Well, thanks Sam, you've been extremely unhelpful. I'd love to stay but I have to go and talk to Donna now"
And because I'm upset, and I'm angry that he won't accept help from me, or seek help for himself, I say.
"Go on then, perhaps she'll fondle your face some more."
I regret it instantly, but I'm also fascinated to see that Josh is blushing. Even the tips of his ears are pink. I didn't know he had it in him.
"She was just being a…a…good assistant"
In spite of myself, I'm amused. This deep-denial thing that Josh and Donna have going has kept me amused for years.
"Josh, Cathy is a good assistant, but she never fondles my face. I'd think it was strange if she did and I'd probably fire her. Ginger never fondles Toby's face and I'm pretty damned sure that Cathy has never fondled CJ."
He runs out the room.
I can't say I'm sorry, because although that last bit was amusing, the rest was pretty worrying and it was enough to make me want to lay my head on my desk for a few hours.
I decide that I'm not Virgil after all. I'm probably more of a Bud Abbott.
I'll go and seek a wiser and stronger guide than I.
CJ.
TBC
Guess where we're going next? What will Donna tell CJ? What will Sam tell CJ? Ooooh, the suspense.