XV
Dammit, why did he always have to be the bearer of bad news?
Leo knew the way the president's shoulders had slumped and the smile fled out of his eyes was going to haunt him.
It wasn't fair. How long had they had? One evening. One goddamn evening, when they'd all been optimistic and the president had been glowing with the nearness of his family, and it had seemed like everything was going to be like old times. Then, bam! One dead bill. And a whole lot of dead hopes.
At least the president still had Abbey's comforting shoulder to lean on - for a few short days before she flew out, anyway. Leo didn't even have that kind of support to guide him through the depression and frustration. He was just going to have to resort to a tried and tested substitute.
Finding somebody to shout at.
Since his wandering deputy was currently outside his grasp, he had to resort to snapping at the first warm body to step too close. In this case, Toby.
Toby had never been much of a one to cling to sentiment in any case. So the bill they'd sweated blood and tears for had been casually blown out of the water by a single errant Congressman on a revenge mission? Threaten dark and lingering punishments, and then move on.
"Leo!" With less than the best timing in the world, Toby came striding towards him just as he emerged from dropping his lead balloon in the Oval Office.
"Toby."
As an incredibly talented writer, Toby Ziegler had an amazing gift for picking up and analysing the subtle nuances of tones of voice. And when he was on a mission, he had an equally impressive talent for ignoring them.
"We need to move forward on the Sex-Ed thing. We've been sitting on this way too long, and it's time we actually got out there and-"
Leo's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Toby, did you notice what happened this morning? Were you actually there?"
"We lost the bill," Toby noted.
"Toby, we lost a hell of a lot more than a Healthcare Bill! We lost credibility. A whole hunk of credibility. In fact, I'm not sure we even had as much credibility as we just lost."
Toby rubbed his forehead. "Leo, we can't back off on this now. We need-"
"Toby, we're not 'backing off' on this. Backing off would pretty much imply that we were going forward at some point, and-"
Margaret appeared in the doorway. "Leo."
"Hold on." He turned back to Toby.
"I want to take this to the president," the Communications Director insisted stubbornly.
Leo shook his head. "You're not taking it to the president, Toby. Yeah, he'll want to do the right thing, but you and I both know he can't do the right thing, so don't try to put it in front of him!" The last thing the president needed right now was a new helping of frustration on top of the taste he'd already had.
With his words still ringing in the hallway, and several frightened staffers looking their way, he turned back to Margaret.
"Josh is in your office," she said, taking a nervous step backwards.
Ah, good. Somebody he could really lay the blame on.
"How could you possibly have been so stupid?"
Josh flinched under the verbal assault.
Leo glowered at him. "Tell me you didn't actually accost Alan Tavestock in his office and threaten him."
"Leo-"
"Tell me you didn't actually chase down a member of the United States House of Representatives and threaten him with retribution for voting against us."
"Leo, I-"
"And tell me, tell me, you didn't really shout at the top of your lungs in front of several witnesses that you were going to use the White House's influence to reopen a closed financial investigation and - and here I quote - 'keep it open until it finds something'?"
As Leo's eyes bored through him like accusing lasers, Josh decided that now was not the time to point out that there was almost definitely something for such an investigation to find. Nor was it the time to point out that he'd been far too steamed up to even notice if anyone in the Congressman's office might have been listening in.
"Leo, he played me!" he objected, still boiling with fury at the betrayal.
"Yeah, he did!" Leo retorted. "You got screwed over. That was bad. Do you have any idea how much worse you just made it?"
He had a sinking suspicion he did, but it had never been much in his nature to meekly keep his mouth shut. "Leo, he pulled his support at the last minute just to embarrass us. No other motive! He didn't give a damn about this bill one way or the other, he just wanted us to fall on our faces!"
"Yeah, and as if that wasn't enough you had to go and do a triple somersault for him," Leo growled at him. "Do you have any idea how bad this looks, Josh? Do you have any idea how it'll play in the media if he decides to pull the trigger on 'Bartlet Staff Threaten Blackmail Tactics'?"
"He sabotaged our bill, Leo," Josh said more quietly.
"Yeah, he did." The Chief of Staff's volume dropped to match his, but that didn't make his words any less cutting. "He dug you a hole, and you didn't just fall down it, you hit the bottom and started tunnelling."
This time, Josh did have the sense to keep silent. He looked at the carpet, and wondered if Leo was about to fire him. He'd once promised that as long as he had a job, Josh had a job. Was he regretting it? Josh didn't quite dare look him in the eye to find out.
"You're going to the Congressional fundraiser tomorrow night."
His head snapped back up. "What?"
Leo glared at him. "Tomorrow. Charity firework display. You are going to be there. You are going to mingle. And you are going to suck the hell up to every damn Congressman in the place!"
He couldn't believe it. "I have to suck up to Congress because Tavestock pulled the rug out from under my feet?" he demanded.
"You have to suck up to Congress, Josh, because you were so incredibly stupid today I'd have every justification in choosing to fire your ass!" He'd been thinking it, but it still caught him off guard to hear the words come out of Leo's mouth. "Now you are going to be there, you are going to schmooze a large number of important Democratic Congressmen, and maybe, just maybe, if you don't screw that up, Tavestock won't bring the media cycle from hell down on our backs. Clear?"
Josh didn't dare do anything else but nod.
"Mom, I- Okay, mom, I'm going now." Donna quickly hung up the phone as a familiar suit hove into view. "Josh!" She sprang to her feet.
Ever since a certain a day in May several years ago, she'd had a whole new perspective on what constituted a 'worst day ever'; but this one was definitely shaping up to be pretty high on the list. First the bombshell with the vote, then Josh had disappeared... and then her mother had called her up and refused to get off the phone. She was going to pay a high price for hanging up mid why-aren't-you-coming-home-for-your-birthday? rant, but right now she didn't care.
Josh looked awful. Of course, from the point of view of someone like, say, her mother, Josh quite often looked awful. Generally, though, he wore it well, rumpled clothes and scruffy hair somehow an extension of the electric, chaotic energy that drove him.
Right now, the only thing that was electric about him was the fact that he looked as if he was on his way to the electric chair.
Donna had been half-terrified when he'd walked out like that. The complete lack of expression on his face had sent her reeling into memories of that terrible Christmas after the shooting. But now he was back, and he at least seemed to be still in one piece, and she was so relieved that she wasn't even going to yell at him.
"Josh, where the hell did you go? I was worried!"
Oh, wait. Maybe she was.
"I went to see Congressman Tavestock," he said dully.
Uh-oh.
"Josh-" she said warningly. He held up a hand to cut her off.
"I've had this lecture already." He slumped into the chair in his office. Donna followed him in and shut the door behind her, leaning against it. After all, wasn't that her job? Keeping the world away from Josh when he didn't want to see it.
"What happened?" she asked sympathetically.
Josh grimaced. "I said some stupid things."
"Imagine that."
"Don't-" He didn't finish the protest, but Donna heeded it anyway. He wasn't in any mood to be teased over this. She moved closer, and sat on the edge of the desk to peer at him worriedly.
"Josh, are you okay?"
"I'm fine." An exchange about as automatic - and every bit as meaningful - as the "good morning"s they might trade when they arrived in the office. Not that they often did; the complex thread of Josh-and-Donna conversation moved to its own rhythms, a mix of verbal barbs and playful affection that threw most outsiders for a loop.
It was an intricate dance, and one that could get fairly vicious when something was in the air to throw the relationship off. But even when the two of them were back in their own unique version of harmony, prying problems out of Josh was like trying to get a small child to let go of its security blanket.
Very much like a small child, actually, complete with pouting, sulks, tantrums, and not-at-all-subtle subject changes. But some masochistic instinct which refused to learn kept her prodding. Maybe it was training from growing up with She Who Will Not Be Argued With for a mother.
"Did you talk to Leo?"
"Mostly I listened." She found that hard to believe. "Well, actually, mostly he shouted."
Now that was easier to believe. But still... she frowned. "Josh, he can't think this was your fault." Leo might be apoplectic now, but he'd soon cool off and recognise that they'd all be blindsided by Tavestock, not just Josh. After all, it was Josh who'd insisted all along that they shouldn't go to him.
Josh looked up at her. "The bill? Not so much. The things I said to Tavestock..."
"It can't have been that bad," she said, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. And thinking about secret plans to fight inflation.
He smiled wryly, without any of his customary humour. "Well, I may have... accidentally implied that the White House plants criminal evidence against Congressmen it doesn't like."
Oh, yes, this was a Josh Lyman special all right. She squeezed his arm in silent sympathy. The mocking could come at a later, safer time.
He looked up at her and mustered the ghost of a smile. "Leo says I've gotta go to this thing Saturday night. The Congressional fireworks display."
Donna's organised brain immediately called up a whole file of information about what the event was in aid of and who would be attending, but she suspected Josh didn't want to hear it right now. "Want me to come with you?"
Josh shook his head. "No. I'll go. Get it over with, pretend it never happened."
"Okay."
He gave her a fragile smile of thanks, and for a moment she laid her head on his shoulder before they both went back to work.