Title: "The Lamentable Demise of George" Part 9
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.
CJ 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.
I have been the Press Secretary for the Bartlet White House for over 2 years, and there are still days when I wonder what on earth it is I do here.
Don't get me wrong, I love my job, I adore it, but I've yet to find my equilibrium. Sometimes I'm Claudia Jean Cregg, who finds a way to answer the tough questions and make us all look good. Occasionally I'm just plain CJ … that tall gal over there, from California, but let's not tell her anything important, 'cos she might, you know, tell the Press…
Excuse me guys? Have you bothered to look at my job title lately?
To give the Boy's Club credit, they have been better about keeping me in the loop over the last year. And that probably stems from the events at the Newseum. If there was one tiny, minuscule, good thing that came out of that nightmare, it was that we, the Senior Staff, became closer. It was Us against Them.
Unfortunately, the bad things that came out are also still with us - but I'll get onto that in a minute…
The trouble is, I don't know from one day to the next exactly what role I'm supposed to be assuming. Will I be the big, bad witch? Am I the strong, wise Feminista, today? Will I have to be a sister to Josh? Will I have to suck it up and be the mommy to a bunch of inner five-year-olds?
There are many things left out of my job description.
Take today. I was having a good day there for a while. There were no hideous disasters hanging over our heads like the Sword of Damocles, I had managed to snub Danny no less than five times, and I had even found time to tease Toby unmercifully about his hatred of the Belgians. I should have known it wouldn't last…
…Donna turned up with her Josh-face.
I like Donna, she is strong, capable and frighteningly intelligent, but when it comes to Mr Deputy Chief of Staff, she sometimes has a blind spot the size of Wisconsin. When she poured out her tangled and frankly ludicrous tale of woe, I was hard pressed not to leap up and start shaking her. That girl has got to stop worrying so much about Josh, or she'll be the next one to have a nervous breakdown.
I know, I know, I'm not immune from the Josh worrying myself, the man has certainly given us reason, but I reacted to Donna's tale by becoming a clone of my seventh-grade Social Science teacher. I was wise and sensible. I was hard-headed and logical. I made her cry.
To add insult to injury, Leo also popped his head around the door, evidently on a Josh-salvation mission himself. Will he create another mess for me to salvage?
Then Sam manages to really top off my afternoon.
Donna has barely left, and he's standing here in front of me like one of the original Lost Boys. Perhaps he's waiting for me to leap up and sew on his shadow?
"I'm worried about Josh."
Join the queue, buster.
He's practically snivelling. It looks as though mommy-mode needs to be employed. I'm going to have to wipe his runny nose, pat him on the head and kiss it all-better. Figuratively, of course.
They don't pay me enough for this.
"I think he's really lost it CJ"
"What do you mean?"
"I think he's been driven mad by guilt over George's death."
This needs to be nipped in the bud now. Sam has a tendency to over-dramatise and once he starts, it's difficult to stop him.
"Don't talk rubbish, Sam"
He's looking earnest now.
"You didn't see him, CJ. He was depressed one minute, then laughing hysterically the next. It was really scary."
Okay, maybe he has a point.
"Why was he laughing hysterically?"
Sam shakes his head in frustration.
"I don't know!", he wails, "there didn't seen to be any reason for it at all!"
He's starting to look panicked now. In fact, his face looks just like Donna's did 10 minutes ago.
"Three and a half minutes, CJ! He laughed non-stop for three and a half minutes! Over nothing!"
He starts pacing and running his fingers through his brown locks. Things have reached a bad pass if Sam Seabourne is desperate enough to mess with the hair.
With a sigh, I send Wendy back to Bloomsbury and start channelling my Sergeant-Major Grandfather.
"Sam! Stop pacing, calm down and SIT!"
He sits.
"Now, tell me, slowly and rationally what happened."
If the story isn't exactly rational, it at least comes out in some sort of order. I try to follow, but when he starts rambling about Vietnam, I'm forced to interrupt.
"Vietnam? How the hell did Vietnam get involved in this? Was George in Vietnam?"
"I don't know!", he wails again, clutching his hair. "That's what I thought, but then Josh started his descent into madness and I never got a clear answer."
I can cope with the hair thing, but I've had it with the wailing.
"Sam! You're the Deputy Communications Director; communicate with me, for pity's sake. What did Josh say about Vietnam?"
He takes a deep breath. I hope it's enough for both of us, because I'm holding mine.
"Well, he didn't as such, he just mentioned this guy Anderson, who is something to do with George, and he's a Vet."
Hold on…
Donna, phone call, medical specialist…
"Anderson? Dr. Anderson?"
"Is he? Okay then, Dr Anderson the Vet…"
He trails off and stares at me in horror.
I think I need to lie down.
"Dr Anderson the vet, Sam", I say calmly. I'm rather proud of myself for that.
"DOCTOR Anderson the VET!"
He's still staring.
"DOCTOR, Sam! He's not a Veteran, he's a VETINARY!"
He buries his face in his hands.
It's all too much for me. I can't help it. I laugh. A lot.
Sam groans into his hands.
"Don't start with me CJ", he moans, "I can't take it anymore. Please stop laughing. Please?"
I'm trying, I really am, but if this is anything like how Josh felt, I'm surprised he only laughed for three and a half minutes.
I'm close to reining in the giggles when Sam sits upright again suddenly and says,
"But wait a minute, why would Josh be talking about a veterinary?"
Actually, he has a point.
"I don't know"
"He doesn't have any pets, I kn…"
The look of horror is on his face again, and I swear he's paled.
"Sam?"
"Oh no, oh no..."
"SAM! What is it?"
He closes his eyes, swallows, then says with difficulty,
"Josh was talking about George's death. He said, and I quote, 'the poor little rat practically flung himself under a car'. Rat CJ. He said rat,"
My face is aching with the effort of surpressing the laughter building up inside of me. This is so classic.
"Sam," I manage, with only a small waver in my voice, "Did Josh, at any time, actually say that the George who died was his ex-roommate George?"
He's buried his face in his hands again.
"No", he mumbles.
Now I've resorted to pinching my leg, but I'm not succeeding very well as little chuffs of laughter keep escaping from my mouth. If this weren't so hysterically funny, I'd be terrified that these men actually help to run the country.
These men?
All desire to laugh has now left me.
"Sam, Leo!"
"What?"
"LEO! He was here a few minutes ago. He wanted to talk to Josh about George!"
Sam's eyes are boggling.
"Does he know?"
"Know what?"
"That George is a…a…is not…human."
I remember Leo's face. A squashed rat does not engender that much concern.
"No, I don't think he does."
This situation requires action. If there is one thing that CJ Cregg does well, it is action. The next moment I'm on my feet and hauling Sam towards the door.
"Quick Sam, we've got to find him before he finds Josh!"
And we're up and running.
TBC
Who will reach Josh first? Leo, Donna or CJ and Sam? Which one will create maximum confusion? I think you know the answer…