***
The city bustled with pre-dawn activity. Parade routes were marked, news
organizations staked claims to various locations. There were balloons and
streamers, and two men in bulky coats counted folding chairs on a large
platform. Coffee shops prepared their wares in vats, and there was an unusually
high per-capita ratio of doughnuts.
There were a few protesters here and there, mostly ignoring one another as they
affixed placards to sticks. The police mostly ignored them in return, showing
just enough presence to let the citizens know that they meant business. Here and
there were dark-suited men and women who did not blend into their scenery - not
that they meant to do so in the first place.
Every four years the city reinvented itself, molded itself in the image of one
person. One leader. One vision. Such a heavy weight, such an awesome burden, yet
one taken on gladly and with reverence.
Such a beautiful city, where the heart and soul of a nation could be made new.
Bartlet wiped condensation from the window of his limousine and continued gazing
out at the streets. The sunrise that was just beginning cast a purplish glimmer
on the monuments. Even the White House looked hazy, dreamlike.
But there was someone awake inside the building, someone who had asked to see
him. Sam met him in the lobby, apologizing even as Bartlet wrapped his arms
around him and patted him on the back. "I shouldn't have called, I shouldn't
have dragged you down here," he mumbled into Bartlet's coat.
"Nonsense. I don't sleep much anyway - but you should still be resting. It's a
big day, and it's going to be a long one." He held Sam by the shoulders,
grateful that there were no tremors in his hands today. Locked gazes with him.
"I know."
"I know you do - that's why I asked you to come. Please, let's go sit in the
Mural Room."
"You didn't light a fire in there, did you?"
Sam leaned back, blinking. "You know, Josh was part of that."
"Of course I know. He gave you up too fast to be innocent." He smiled at some of
the agents he'd known during his tenure, shaking a few hands as he and Sam
headed for the Mural Room. "I haven't been in here since the week we left
office."
"Me, either. I just wanted to talk, and I'm not ready yet to see people in the
Oval."
"I'm not ready to see people in the Oval, either." Bartlet accepted a cup of
coffee, smiling his thanks to the aide who slipped out as quietly as he had
entered. "So. What's on your mind?"
Sam looked away and down for a moment. "The first time, the first Inaugural day
- were you apprehensive?"
"I was apprehensive just about every day I got out of bed. January 20th, 1999,
more so than usual. I was downright scared, Sam - I'm sorry, would you prefer
that I call you--?"
"Sam. Please." He turned back toward his guest. "That's another reason I didn't
want to go into the Oval. I just need..." He trailed off.
"Fatherly advice?" Bartlet asked.
"Something like that. Something...yes. That. I know I'm ready. I know I can do
this. But it's hitting hard this morning, the idea that there will be things
beyond my control or even my comprehension."
"There will. And you'll ask advice from the most knowledgeable people you can
gather to you, and they'll help you lead them. That's the best kind of
leadership. The shared kind." He leaned over, grimacing at the stiffness in his
hips and back. "Look who you have with you. What I wouldn't have given for a
Vice-President who had my back. Don't get me wrong, I appreciated John for
everything he gave me, but there was always a price, always a battle. It's not
like that with you and Matt. The relationship you two have is what the offices
were meant to be: complimentary rather than adversarial. You have Josh, the
politician, and Matt has Donna, the peacemaker. C.J. will work with the new guy,
what's his name?"
"Frank."
"Frank, yes. They'll get your message out, loud and clear. And your message will
be just that, yours. I always savored the speeches you wrote for me. I loved
saying your words. They'll be even more remarkable coming from your voice."
Sam's posture relaxed and the worry lines receded. "That's very kind of you," he
said softly.
"It's very true of me. And I'm about the only person in the country who can tell
you like it is, so you know I'm always going to take advantage of that power.
You are going to be a great President. You've made us proud. You've made me
proud."
Damn old age, anyway, he thought as he pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at
his eyes. He reached back into his jacket for the small package Abbey had placed
there, and he gave it to Sam.
Sam's expression was puzzled. "What is it?"
"I wanted to give you something special. Leo gave me this for my Inauguration,
and I just thought I'd pass it down to you."
Sam pulled the paper away, revealing a leather-bound Bible. "Were you sworn in
with this?"
"I was. Both times. I didn't know if you had a special...family one. Nina said
she didn't think so. I hope you don't mind the presumption."
Shaking his head, Sam said, "I'm touched that you'd want to share this with me.
I should warn you, though, that we planned for Helen to hold the Bible when I
take the oath, and it's not outside the realm of possibility that it could be,
well, you know."
Bartlet laughed. "That's not important. But I took the liberty of marking a
passage for you. May I?" He reached for the Bible and leafed through it with one
hand while putting his glasses on with the other. "Ah, yes, Daniel. Listen to
this: 'And they that are wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament;
And they that turn the many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever.'
Toby said it reminded him of you. I couldn't agree more."
Sam pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. Bartlet could see the
strength it took for him to rein in his emotions. He placed the Bible in Sam's
lap and patted his hands. "Go, pick up Helen and sit with her for a while. Let
her practice gnawing on this, if it'll help. And don't forget to tell Nina she
looks beautiful, even if you can't focus on what she's wearing."
Rising, Sam offered his hand and helped Bartlet out of the chair. "I'm sorry,"
he said again, but Bartlet waved him to silence.
"You spent many a night and day with me when I was troubled. This - this is a
pleasure." He embraced Sam again, kissing him on the cheek. "I'm so very proud
of everything you've done, and so very honored that you still call on me for
advice."
"Always," Sam whispered. "And thank you for coming here so early in the
morning." They walked to the entrance, lost in thought.
Bartlet smiled up at him. "It's a beautiful day, Mr. President. I'll see you out
there." He got into the waiting car and waved at Sam. Just a few hours, and he'd
be sworn in, duly made the leader of his nation.
It was truly going to be a beautiful day.
***
Josh opened his eyes slowly, needing a few seconds to remember where he was, and
why. He ran his hand along Donna's arm, then moved down into the valley of her
waist, finally coming to rest on her hip. Every cliché he'd ever known rushed to
his lips. He swallowed them all back. He didn't dare say something stupid,
something that would make her laugh at him. Something to dissolve the perfection
of the moment.
Donna shifted a little as she awoke, turning her head and peering up at him.
Behind the wonder in her eyes was a little hint of anxiety. Josh caressed her
face, hoping to convey through touch this thing for which he had no words. There
was a little more hope in her smile, but she seemed to expect him to say
something. He fished around in the swirling fog of his brain, took a deep
breath, and hoped for the best.
"We beat the deadline."
Yeah, that's what you want to say right now, you schmuck.
On the other hand, this was Donna, his Donna, and she didn't seem to want to
kill him. She grinned at him, instead, and pulled up so that she could plant a
very, very expert kiss on his lips.
"Yes," she said when she came up for air. "Try this: after careful
consideration, we came to a logical and well-planned decision."
"With the help of trusted advisors," Josh added, and Donna picked up the ball
and ran with it.
"After all, it's best not to rush into these things."
That did it, and they both burst into laughter. Josh found it odd, as he gasped
for air and watched Donna wipe her eyes, that it seemed the most appropriate
thing for them to be doing right now. Laughing. Designing spin for sex - this
could become a post-coital theme for them if they weren't careful.
Donna stretched, sighing blissfully. "I think we should call C.J. and let her
know everything turned out all right."
He raised an eyebrow. "Just all right?"
Groaning, Donna further mussed his already-mussed hair. "You're such a guy,
Josh."
"Ah." Then, "Wait - that's not a bad thing, is it?"
"I need more data before reaching that conclusion, although preliminary tests
are promising. Oh, wipe that 'I'm da man' expression off your face."
"I can't help it!" Josh protested. "I'm basking in afterglow, here. You can't
expect me not to be at least a little smug."
Thump.
"What the hell?" Josh asked, frowning. He got out of bed, wincing at the feel of
cold air on his naked body. Finding his clothes took a moment, by which time
Donna had slipped out of bed and into her bathrobe. "Do you get a paper?"
"No, I read them at work." She opened the door. "Oh. This is for you."
A dry cleaning bag containing his best charcoal-gray suit and two ties hung from
the doorknob. On the floor was a duffel bag, and next to that was an open
cardboard box containing two enormous cups of coffee and a variety of pastries.
A piece of paper was wedged under the box. Donna pulled it out and handed it to
Josh, then brought the clothing and food inside.
Josh read aloud, squinting without his glasses as he followed Donna back into
the apartment. "'Don't forget what day it is. Wear the red tie, not the blue
one. Get some new socks sometime soon because you're down to your last few
decent pairs. And eat something, don't just drink the coffee. Margaret.'"
Donna stood on tiptoe, reading over his shoulder while running her fingers
through his hair. "A lot of people love you, Josh," she whispered into his ear.
"God knows I do."
He spun around and held her tightly against him, his face buried in her hair.
Donna's embrace was strong and tender. Protective. Loving. And he didn't know
what he had ever done to deserve it, to deserve her. There was only one thing of
which he was certain, this thing he'd known in his soul for a dozen years, this
thing he had to tell her right now because he had put it off for so, so many
years and because he'd been too overwhelmed to say it last night.
Deep breath. You can do this. You can do this and nothing bad will happen. Say
it, before it's too late. Deep breath. You can do this.
"I love you, Donna."
***
Part Five
The city bustled with pre-dawn activity. Parade routes were marked, news
organizations staked claims to various locations. There were balloons and
streamers, and two men in bulky coats counted folding chairs on a large
platform. Coffee shops prepared their wares in vats, and there was an unusually
high per-capita ratio of doughnuts.
There were a few protesters here and there, mostly ignoring one another as they
affixed placards to sticks. The police mostly ignored them in return, showing
just enough presence to let the citizens know that they meant business. Here and
there were dark-suited men and women who did not blend into their scenery - not
that they meant to do so in the first place.
Every four years the city reinvented itself, molded itself in the image of one
person. One leader. One vision. Such a heavy weight, such an awesome burden, yet
one taken on gladly and with reverence.
Such a beautiful city, where the heart and soul of a nation could be made new.
Bartlet wiped condensation from the window of his limousine and continued gazing
out at the streets. The sunrise that was just beginning cast a purplish glimmer
on the monuments. Even the White House looked hazy, dreamlike.
But there was someone awake inside the building, someone who had asked to see
him. Sam met him in the lobby, apologizing even as Bartlet wrapped his arms
around him and patted him on the back. "I shouldn't have called, I shouldn't
have dragged you down here," he mumbled into Bartlet's coat.
"Nonsense. I don't sleep much anyway - but you should still be resting. It's a
big day, and it's going to be a long one." He held Sam by the shoulders,
grateful that there were no tremors in his hands today. Locked gazes with him.
"I know."
"I know you do - that's why I asked you to come. Please, let's go sit in the
Mural Room."
"You didn't light a fire in there, did you?"
Sam leaned back, blinking. "You know, Josh was part of that."
"Of course I know. He gave you up too fast to be innocent." He smiled at some of
the agents he'd known during his tenure, shaking a few hands as he and Sam
headed for the Mural Room. "I haven't been in here since the week we left
office."
"Me, either. I just wanted to talk, and I'm not ready yet to see people in the
Oval."
"I'm not ready to see people in the Oval, either." Bartlet accepted a cup of
coffee, smiling his thanks to the aide who slipped out as quietly as he had
entered. "So. What's on your mind?"
Sam looked away and down for a moment. "The first time, the first Inaugural day
- were you apprehensive?"
"I was apprehensive just about every day I got out of bed. January 20th, 1999,
more so than usual. I was downright scared, Sam - I'm sorry, would you prefer
that I call you--?"
"Sam. Please." He turned back toward his guest. "That's another reason I didn't
want to go into the Oval. I just need..." He trailed off.
"Fatherly advice?" Bartlet asked.
"Something like that. Something...yes. That. I know I'm ready. I know I can do
this. But it's hitting hard this morning, the idea that there will be things
beyond my control or even my comprehension."
"There will. And you'll ask advice from the most knowledgeable people you can
gather to you, and they'll help you lead them. That's the best kind of
leadership. The shared kind." He leaned over, grimacing at the stiffness in his
hips and back. "Look who you have with you. What I wouldn't have given for a
Vice-President who had my back. Don't get me wrong, I appreciated John for
everything he gave me, but there was always a price, always a battle. It's not
like that with you and Matt. The relationship you two have is what the offices
were meant to be: complimentary rather than adversarial. You have Josh, the
politician, and Matt has Donna, the peacemaker. C.J. will work with the new guy,
what's his name?"
"Frank."
"Frank, yes. They'll get your message out, loud and clear. And your message will
be just that, yours. I always savored the speeches you wrote for me. I loved
saying your words. They'll be even more remarkable coming from your voice."
Sam's posture relaxed and the worry lines receded. "That's very kind of you," he
said softly.
"It's very true of me. And I'm about the only person in the country who can tell
you like it is, so you know I'm always going to take advantage of that power.
You are going to be a great President. You've made us proud. You've made me
proud."
Damn old age, anyway, he thought as he pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at
his eyes. He reached back into his jacket for the small package Abbey had placed
there, and he gave it to Sam.
Sam's expression was puzzled. "What is it?"
"I wanted to give you something special. Leo gave me this for my Inauguration,
and I just thought I'd pass it down to you."
Sam pulled the paper away, revealing a leather-bound Bible. "Were you sworn in
with this?"
"I was. Both times. I didn't know if you had a special...family one. Nina said
she didn't think so. I hope you don't mind the presumption."
Shaking his head, Sam said, "I'm touched that you'd want to share this with me.
I should warn you, though, that we planned for Helen to hold the Bible when I
take the oath, and it's not outside the realm of possibility that it could be,
well, you know."
Bartlet laughed. "That's not important. But I took the liberty of marking a
passage for you. May I?" He reached for the Bible and leafed through it with one
hand while putting his glasses on with the other. "Ah, yes, Daniel. Listen to
this: 'And they that are wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament;
And they that turn the many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever.'
Toby said it reminded him of you. I couldn't agree more."
Sam pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. Bartlet could see the
strength it took for him to rein in his emotions. He placed the Bible in Sam's
lap and patted his hands. "Go, pick up Helen and sit with her for a while. Let
her practice gnawing on this, if it'll help. And don't forget to tell Nina she
looks beautiful, even if you can't focus on what she's wearing."
Rising, Sam offered his hand and helped Bartlet out of the chair. "I'm sorry,"
he said again, but Bartlet waved him to silence.
"You spent many a night and day with me when I was troubled. This - this is a
pleasure." He embraced Sam again, kissing him on the cheek. "I'm so very proud
of everything you've done, and so very honored that you still call on me for
advice."
"Always," Sam whispered. "And thank you for coming here so early in the
morning." They walked to the entrance, lost in thought.
Bartlet smiled up at him. "It's a beautiful day, Mr. President. I'll see you out
there." He got into the waiting car and waved at Sam. Just a few hours, and he'd
be sworn in, duly made the leader of his nation.
It was truly going to be a beautiful day.
***
Josh opened his eyes slowly, needing a few seconds to remember where he was, and
why. He ran his hand along Donna's arm, then moved down into the valley of her
waist, finally coming to rest on her hip. Every cliché he'd ever known rushed to
his lips. He swallowed them all back. He didn't dare say something stupid,
something that would make her laugh at him. Something to dissolve the perfection
of the moment.
Donna shifted a little as she awoke, turning her head and peering up at him.
Behind the wonder in her eyes was a little hint of anxiety. Josh caressed her
face, hoping to convey through touch this thing for which he had no words. There
was a little more hope in her smile, but she seemed to expect him to say
something. He fished around in the swirling fog of his brain, took a deep
breath, and hoped for the best.
"We beat the deadline."
Yeah, that's what you want to say right now, you schmuck.
On the other hand, this was Donna, his Donna, and she didn't seem to want to
kill him. She grinned at him, instead, and pulled up so that she could plant a
very, very expert kiss on his lips.
"Yes," she said when she came up for air. "Try this: after careful
consideration, we came to a logical and well-planned decision."
"With the help of trusted advisors," Josh added, and Donna picked up the ball
and ran with it.
"After all, it's best not to rush into these things."
That did it, and they both burst into laughter. Josh found it odd, as he gasped
for air and watched Donna wipe her eyes, that it seemed the most appropriate
thing for them to be doing right now. Laughing. Designing spin for sex - this
could become a post-coital theme for them if they weren't careful.
Donna stretched, sighing blissfully. "I think we should call C.J. and let her
know everything turned out all right."
He raised an eyebrow. "Just all right?"
Groaning, Donna further mussed his already-mussed hair. "You're such a guy,
Josh."
"Ah." Then, "Wait - that's not a bad thing, is it?"
"I need more data before reaching that conclusion, although preliminary tests
are promising. Oh, wipe that 'I'm da man' expression off your face."
"I can't help it!" Josh protested. "I'm basking in afterglow, here. You can't
expect me not to be at least a little smug."
Thump.
"What the hell?" Josh asked, frowning. He got out of bed, wincing at the feel of
cold air on his naked body. Finding his clothes took a moment, by which time
Donna had slipped out of bed and into her bathrobe. "Do you get a paper?"
"No, I read them at work." She opened the door. "Oh. This is for you."
A dry cleaning bag containing his best charcoal-gray suit and two ties hung from
the doorknob. On the floor was a duffel bag, and next to that was an open
cardboard box containing two enormous cups of coffee and a variety of pastries.
A piece of paper was wedged under the box. Donna pulled it out and handed it to
Josh, then brought the clothing and food inside.
Josh read aloud, squinting without his glasses as he followed Donna back into
the apartment. "'Don't forget what day it is. Wear the red tie, not the blue
one. Get some new socks sometime soon because you're down to your last few
decent pairs. And eat something, don't just drink the coffee. Margaret.'"
Donna stood on tiptoe, reading over his shoulder while running her fingers
through his hair. "A lot of people love you, Josh," she whispered into his ear.
"God knows I do."
He spun around and held her tightly against him, his face buried in her hair.
Donna's embrace was strong and tender. Protective. Loving. And he didn't know
what he had ever done to deserve it, to deserve her. There was only one thing of
which he was certain, this thing he'd known in his soul for a dozen years, this
thing he had to tell her right now because he had put it off for so, so many
years and because he'd been too overwhelmed to say it last night.
Deep breath. You can do this. You can do this and nothing bad will happen. Say
it, before it's too late. Deep breath. You can do this.
"I love you, Donna."
***
Part Five