II

TUESDAY:

Josh was conspicuous by his absence. It was far from unusual for him to be missing in action at the start of a staff meeting, but normally, he could be expected to come bounding in a few minutes late, hopelessly disorganised. Today, that wasn't going to happen, although Leo was the only who knew that for sure. So far as the others were concerned - even the president - Josh was on a temporary leave of absence, and probably against his will at that.

Leo had absolutely no intention of sharing the fact he'd handed in his resignation, at least not until they'd had a damn good try at dragging him back. He wasn't about to let Josh throw everything away for the sake of self-imposed martyrdom.

The fact that he would have done the same thing in a heartbeat when the truth about his rehab records came out was neither here nor there. After all, their situations were completely different.

The meeting got off to a bit of a stuttered start, everybody keenly aware of Josh's absence.

"The, um, the Maskey article's been a big help," CJ spoke up, glancing automatically at her notes though she obviously knew what they said. "It's helped shift the tide of public opinion, and some of the media are beginning to rally round. There are at least as many pushing the 'Josh Lyman; Government Hero' angle as are ripping into us for keeping him employed." She paused and pushed up her glasses. "However, the politicians..."

"Different matter," supplied Sam succinctly.

"Oh boy," CJ agreed. "The Republicans are having a field day, as are the not inconsiderable list of Democrats Josh has managed to piss off. Those of the - largely silent - group who are on our side are mostly of the opinion that he should be quietly retired for his own good."

"And theirs," added Toby snidely.

"On the contrary, Toby," CJ said dryly, "I can assure you that every one of them has made a point of prefacing their remarks with a note that they're thinking only of Josh Lyman's health and the political aspects have slid right by them unnoticed." She hesitated, then looked seriously at Leo. "Leo, his absence from work is damaging. Really damaging. We need him to be here, proving that there is nothing wrong with him and he can work."

There were murmurs of agreement from Sam and Toby, but Leo was having none of it. "Well then, we'll have to repair that damage, 'cause he's taking as much time as he needs and no less."

All three of them nodded, eyes taking on a new light of determination. It was their duty to be realists, but that didn't mean they didn't relish being given the chance to throw their weight behind Josh, guns blazing. If their political opponents were under the impression that this was the scandal that might topple the administration once and for all, they were in for a rude awakening. Nothing brought the Bartlet team together like going to bat for one of their own.

Of course, if they didn't get Josh to agree to come back to work, at would be an entirely different matter... but now was not the time to think of that. Now was the time to make it clear they were behind his deputy every step of the way.

He turned to Sam and Toby. "Do we have a draft on the president's statement of support?"

Sam handed it to him snappily. He seemed bright and alert, not a trace of the hangovers he'd been sporting all the previous week. Maybe this crisis had been just what he needed to snap him out of his dangerous lethargy.

Leo skimmed the statement, and then read more deeply as it drew him in. This was good. This was very good. And it had old-style Sam Seaborn fingerprints all over it. He looked up. "Did you write this?"

"I did," Sam nodded.

Leo smiled. "The president's gonna love it."

Sam beamed, looking almost embarrassed by the praise. Even Toby nodded. Whatever professional slump Sam had fallen into, he'd just come shooting out of it.

Leo straightened the papers on his desk. "Okay. We're gonna lay low for the moment, bolster our defences; we want to focus our resources on Josh, so let's not go biting off more than we can chew in any other directions." He spotted Toby looking decidedly unhappy with this plan of action. "Toby, you got something to say?" he demanded irritably.

"I think it's a mistake to draw back now," Toby insisted, shaking his head. "We can't afford to lose ground when we're this close to the edge already. We need to say damn the damage control and full speed ahead!"

"It's a nice idea, Toby, but welcome to the real world," Leo said sardonically. "What battle can we take on now that we could possibly hope to win?"

Toby thumped the desk angrily. "It's not about the winning, it's about taking the battles on! Sex education-"

"Later," Leo shut him down forcefully.

"Leo-"

"Later." He held Toby's gaze until the Communications Director looked down in defeat. Leo looked around the group. "I know you want to get out there and fight, but let's be realistic, people. We've got precious little support here as it is; let's not alienate the few friends we've got going out on a limb, okay?"

The others all nodded, but none of them looked satisfied. Leo couldn't blame them; he thought it pretty much stunk, too.

"Hey, Sam."

"Hey, CJ." He smiled brightly and leaned back in his chair. "What can I do for you?"

She offered him a smile in return. "I read your statement of support."

"Yeah?"

"I see you've got your cool back."

Sam smirked. "I was missing my cool?"

"You were missing something," she said, seriously. Sam let his smile fade.

"I know," he admitted.

"You're better now?"

He shrugged. "I got my head sorted out, got some perspective." He smiled again. "I'm ready for a righteous battle."

CJ regarded him curiously for a long moment. "You've changed," she observed.

"People do."

"Yeah. What happened?" She smirked playfully at him. "Samuel, did you get a girlfriend?"

His snort of laughter was entirely involuntary. Fortunately, CJ seemed entirely too happy to see him laughing to try and probe any further. "Okay, okay! Well, whatever you've done, keep doing it."

He hesitated, then said "I think I will."

If he was going to carry on seeing Steve, he needed to tell CJ. In any just world, there was no reason it should be a scandal, but he wasn't stupid, and he knew the score. CJ was supposed to be his first call; he had to give her the heads-up.

Just... not right now. He wanted to keep this to himself just for a little while before reality had to creep in.

CJ smiled, and turned to go. As she left, she tossed over her shoulder "Good to have you back, Spanky!"

"Thanks!" he called after her. He pulled his laptop towards him, and smiled as he felt the inspiration to write fizzling just under the surface.

Oh yeah, it was pretty good to be back.

"Mom! There's someone at the door!"

It felt strange to be here in this house in Florida, this place that would never be home no matter how many times he saw his mother in it. But he'd needed a quick escape from Washington, and this was the first place his emotional compass had pointed him.

Well, okay, second. After his emotional compass had been given a kickstart and reminded that his mother didn't live in Connecticut anymore.

She appeared in the doorway with a dishcloth draped over her arm; a little greyer than the last time he'd seen her, somehow seeming a little smaller, but still the same old mom. "Joshua, could you get that for me please?"

"Okay, mom." He rolled his eyes as he headed for the front hall. "Mom, are you still cooking? There's only one of me, how much do you think I'm gonna eat?"

She looked him over and tutted sternly. "Ech, you're as thin as a toast-rack. They don't feed you enough."

"I feed myself now, mom," he reminded her with a laugh.

"Well, that explains why my only son comes home looking like a famine victim. When was the last time you sat down and had good homecooked food?"

The automatic protest that he was a busy man failed to pass his lips as it hit the abrupt reminder that he no longer was. So far as the world of politics was concerned, he was now officially retired.

An old man, washed up, and he wasn't even forty-five.

"Mom, I gotta get the door." He made a quick escape.

"I'm coming!" he yelled at another impatient knock, though whoever was outside probably couldn't hear him. He fumbled with the chain - he'd insisted his mother have it put in, along with all the deadbolts, but he was beginning to see her point about how irritating it was - and yanked it open.

And stared.

"Gee, Josh, are you gonna leave me standing out here all day?" A travelling bag was thrust into his hands, and he took it automatically. He took a few startled steps backward.

"Donna?"

"No, it's the Welcome to Florida Fairy. Budge up, would you?" She squeezed past him to step inside, and consulted a sheet of paper. "Okay. You've got a message from Congressman Wooden, one from Roger Zantowsky, one from the whip's office... you were supposed to be in a meeting with Richardson this morning, but I had that reassigned to Sam-"

"I... What- how did you know I was here?" he demanded. Donna rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please. Not much of a process of deduction. I just called your mom."

Josh spun on his heel to see his mother standing behind him. She gave him a slightly guilty shrug and turned to Donna. "Ah, honey, I'm glad you got here. You're just in time for lunch."