Acknowledgements: Thanks as always to Christine for being the spectacular beta that she is.
Author Notes: Thanks so much for all the encouragement and feedback everyone, and a special thanks to a outstanding group of ladies Alicia, KC, Kerry and Joy for all their help.
Previously…
"I need a favour."
"What kind of favour?"
"I need you to talk to Donna."
Sam's a sensitive guy; he can talk Donna out of what will clearly be a very big mistake. Right?
Part 9c
"Josh, you there?"
"Yeah, Sam, come in." I'm in my office, sitting in the dark with the desk lamp and television on, my head leaning back against the chair and eyes closed.
"Long day?"
"Something like that," I sigh. "I'm waiting for Hannah. What about you— what are you doing here?"
"I'm apparently no good at packing," he quips. I open my eyes to see Sam looking around before asking, "Where is Hannah?"
"Residence."
"Abbey finally cornered her?"
"Yeah," I groan. I'm rubbing my hands over my face when I notice that Sam looks a little uncomfortable. "Is Donna with you?"
"No," he says quickly, and then, as an after-thought adds, "I left her with Charlie. They're at her place, packing."
"Okay," I nod.
"Listen," he starts, after a moment. "Hannah told me about your conversation with Amy— what Amy said when you guys broke up."
"Yeah," I sigh. I had a feeling this was coming.
"You didn't say anything."
"It was Amy venting," I shrug.
"Is that the way Hannah saw it?"
I pause in thought. "Hannah's fine."
He seems to accept that but then says, "At the airport, she looked pretty worn out."
"I know." There's something going on with her that I can't quite figure out.
"So, I'm just asking… Is that how you really think she saw it?"
"Look," I start. "She's been having a rough week. It got to her a little, but she's over it. She's fine now." At least, that's what Donna said when I asked her to keep an eye on Hannah.
"So I should drop this? I shouldn't push Hannah to talk?"
"Has that ever worked for you?" I joke.
"Well, no. But it doesn't stop me from interfering," he shrugs, dropping the subject. "How long is she gonna be in there?" he asks, pointing his thumb in what I assume is supposed to be the direction of the Residence.
"She's stuck with Abbey in Godmother mode," I answer automatically, thankful for the change in topic. "Your guess is as good as mine."
"Yeah," he chuckles. We become silent and Sam watches the television screen flicker while I go back to resting. With my eyes closed I'm more aware of all the sounds around, the most prominent of which is Sam fidgeting.
"So how much packing has Donna got left to do?" I ask, deciding to break the silence between us.
He hesitates before he answers. I open my eyes to find him looking… uneasy.
"She only really started to pack when Charlie came over, just before she kicked me out."
"Okay," I nod. "And--"
"I forgot to ask before," he interrupts, "How was the dinner with Karen?" I can't tell if he's genuinely interested or trying to misdirect me.
"Dinner? I'm not so sure Leo's gonna be happy with the outcome, but at the very least we know that the tape's not coming back into play," I reply, still trying to figure out the reason for his unease.
"What happened? How far did she push things?"
"She made Stackhouse's camp—"
"And when you say Stackhouse's camp you actually mean Amy," he clarifies.
"Pretty much. She made Amy look like an amateur." Leo is either gonna kick my ass for not keeping Hannah in check or laugh his head off at her antics and forget to be pissed with me. For obvious reasons, I'm hoping it's the latter.
"How much of an idiot?" Sam grimaces.
I give him a look.
"She masked it, right?"
I nod. "Not by much, though. Any idiot can tell she took a stab at them."
"Didn't Leo send you with Hannah to make sure that didn't happen?"
"Hannah didn't really give me a chance to stop her. She was having too much fun, and really, you kinda just want to sit back and enjoy the show when she's on a roll," I reply. "Anyway, now she's opened the door for Amy."
"I think Amy already opened the door, don't you?"
"Yeah," I sigh. "Anyway, you didn't say why you were here."
"Donna kicked—"
"No, I meant, why not go home? Why come back to work? You don't have anything that can't wait until tomorrow."
He gets uncomfortable. "I talked to Donna."
"And?" I prompt.
Why do I get the feeling I'm not gonna like this?
"You want the good news or the bad?"
Oh God.
"Is the good likely to outweigh the bad?" Please say yes.
"I… no."
Great.
"Okay," I drawl. "The bad first."
"The thing is you kinda need to hear the good before the bad."
"Sam," I growl. "Just get to the point, would you?"
"She and Nathan broke up on Thursday," he says slowly.
Okay. This is good news.
"And the bad?" I ask with trepidation. I'm pretty sure I don't want to know the answer to this.
"I, ah…"
Oh God. People say I have a bad poker face, but that's nothing compared to Sam's. Not to mention, I know Sam's body language, and this is how he acts when he's put his foot in it. Sam, my man, please, please, please tell me you haven't done anything stupid.
"Sam?"
"Just remember that I'm your best friend and I was trying to help you."
"Sam, I swear, if you don't tell me in 2 seconds—"
"I think I convinced her that breaking up with him was a mistake," he blurts out.
Whoa. He—he… he did what?
"You… you did what?" I splutter.
He did what?
"And that she should take him back," he almost trips over the words trying to get them out.
I think I should sit down— except, you know, I already am.
Did he just…
He did what?
***
Don't ask me how the hell I managed to do that. One minute, Donna and I were just catching up and the next, I'm telling her that Nathan is a great guy and maybe she should reconsider her choice.
"Josh," I prompt. He hasn't spoken for a few minutes, and that, more than anything, was the reaction I was hoping to avoid.
I should make a run for it now; I'm pretty close to the door, about seven years younger than he is, and in good shape. I value my life too much to tell him how I managed to screw things up for him.
"Did I just hear you say that you told her to get back together with him?" he asks in disbelief.
There's a desk between us, for which I am thanking every deity I know of right now, but just in case, I unconsciously find myself taking a step closer to the door.
I think he's calculating the best way to punch my lights out.
Quick short answers.
"Yes."
Maybe I'll manage to walk away from this with all my body parts in tact.
"How in the hell did you manage to do that?" He raises his eyebrows and his voice getting higher as he speaks.
I have no answer to that.
"What else?" he asks in a terrifyingly calm tone.
"Josh," I try. I know he's hurt and angry. As much as I try and understand, I've never been able to fully grasp how aware Josh is of the importance of Donna in his life. There were times… there are times I wondered if she really was that important to him, or if I was reading into something that wasn't there. But something's changed. Over the past few weeks, it's become increasingly obvious to everyone that there is something there—we weren't imagining it. And more importantly, he's become aware of whatever it is they have.
And I just screwed this up for him before he even had the chance to act.
"Sam, what else?"
I sigh in defeat. "I also mentioned that London is a great opportunity for her."
Silence.
You could hear a pin drop.
His body is radiating anxiety but his face is calm, still, blank even. I can't read his expression. He's standing there, staring through me, with his hands hidden in his trouser pockets. "You're not going to hit me, are you?" I joke, trying to break the tension.
"Tell me exactly what was said," he says in a very neutral tone.
"Word for word? Or a run down?" You know, you'd think being in my line of work, I would have managed to get a grip on my mouth—know when to keep it shut.
I honestly have no idea what it is he wants to hear, or what I can say that will make this situation any better. I don't know what it is I said that made Donna reconsider her decision to leave Nathan. All I know is I saw a… look. Everything was clearly written on her face and all I could do was watch as she decided to give the guy another chance. She still likes him; that much was clear, even when she was telling me she broke it off and trying to make me believe it was for the best.
She still likes him—I think… I think she may be falling in love with him. All I know is he's a good guy and she likes him and that Josh isn't ready to hear that. She's falling for this guy and I honestly don't know how I'm supposed to tell Josh that. Although… by the look on his face, I have a feeling I don't need to say the words; I think my every thought is displayed on my face. And since I don't have the words anyway, I deflect.
"You know if you're thinking of hitting me— which by the way, is a completely reasonable reaction. Not one I would advocate, but one that I perfectly understand— I think I should warn you, first… I boxed in college," I say with much more conviction than I actually feel right now. I really did box in college; Gilbert & Sullivan weren't my only passion. "And second," I continue, "I think I hear footsteps."
"Sam," he's just lost his calm veneer and now sounds exhausted. "Just… what happened?"
"Josh, I honestly don—"
A quick knock on the door interrupts me, and then I hear, "Hey, what are you guys talking about?"
Well, this just got a whole lot worse.
***
"Hannah," Sam greets with a false sense of cheer.
How in the hell did he convince Donna to give Nathan another chance? What the hell was he thinking? And London? London? Seriously, did he hit his head and lose a couple of thousand brain cells somewhere along the way? Maybe the pod people came and replaced those cells with rocks or something.
Pod people?
What the hell is wrong with me? I swear I'm channelling Donna.
Donna.
What the hell was Sam thinking? I mean seriously, what was he thinking? Was he thinking at all? I swear to God, Samuel Norman Seaborn, if you've monumentally screwed things up, I will kick your ass seven ways to Sunday.
"What are you guys talking about?" Hannah reiterates. She's hasn't lost that faded look she was wearing earlier. In fact, if it's at all possible, she looks even more worn out.
"Nothing," Sam evades.
Nothing? Sam, I think you need to revise your definition of 'nothing.' Nothing? Did you not just hear the words that left your mouth? Are you suffering from blackouts of some kind that I'm not aware of?
Nothing?
"Nothing?" Hannah repeats, with a hint of scepticism. I should also add that she's throwing questioning looks my way too, pointedly looking at my clenched fists.
I just… a moment ago I watched several thoughts run across Sam's face as he tried to come up with a response to my questions.
I don't think I'll ever be able to accept what he's having so much trouble saying.
I just… I can't think about that. It's just easier to allow my emotions to run wild than to think about what all this could really mean.
There are so many questions swimming around in my mind at the moment, the most unrelenting of which is, how could Sam, one of my best friends, the guy who is like a brother to me, a man that I could easily trust my life with, be such an idiot and quite possibly have doomed me to a life without Donna?
A life without Donna.
What the hell was he thinking?
And why the hell didn't Hannah, or Donna for that matter, tell me that Nathan was no longer in the picture?
"You didn't tell me that Donna broke up with Nathan," I state. Well, accuse is the word others might use.
"You didn't ask," Hannah replies off hand, and then, what I just asked, or maybe my tone, registers with her, "What does it matter? And how did you know that?"
"Sam told me."
She turns to face Sam, then takes another look at my expression and then faces Sam again, glaring at him, "What did you do?"
He's indignant for a moment and replies, "What makes you think I did something?"
"Take your pick, the look on his face or the tone in his voice," she says pointing at me. "Sam?" she asks in what can only be described as a spine-chilling tone. "Did you get involved?"
"I…"
"Sam?" Hannah prompts.
"In my defence—" He looks even more alarmed than he did a few moments ago when I was ready to test his college boxing skills. I'm still eager to do that, but the rational part of my brain knows Leo would kick my ass if the Deputy Communications Director walked in with bruises and the press found out that the Deputy Chief of Staff gave them to him.
"It better be one hell of a defence," Hannah all but growls, "I told you not to get involved in this."
"Yes."
"I warned you not to talk to Donna about Nathan—to not interfere in her love life, didn't I?" Her hands are accentuating her words, a sure sign that's she's pissed.
Wait— she warned him not to talk to Donna? She warned him? And he still did?
"Yes," he sighs.
And the idiot didn't listen?
"So what part of 'Do Not Interfere' did you not understand?
Yes Samuel, what part of that did you not understand? And— hold on a sec… why did she warn him?
"Wait," I interrupt, my irritation misplaced for a moment, "Why couldn't Sam talk to Donna?" I think I'm still trying to get past the fact that Sam could have done something so beyond stupid that words can't possibly express how much of an idiot he was— is— whatever.
I'm still trying to avoid thinking about that look… trying to ignore the fact that he thinks Donna's in love with Nathan.
"Let me get this straight. You're asking me this question after having witnessed for yourself what I'm going to guess are colossally disastrous results?" She glowers at me, incredulous. In my defence, I'm still trying to comprehend the fact that… Donna could still be leaving. "Second," she continues, "You're asking me why the hell I think it's a bad idea that Sam— Sam who is just as hopeless with women—"
"Hey," Sam interrupts, but is quickly quieted by the angry look that Hannah throws his way.
"—Sam, who is just as clumsy, hopeless, clueless, dense, ham-fisted, awkward, and incompetent with women and love in general as you are, you asked that Sam to talk to Donna? You're seriously asking me why I think that's the most preposterous, dumb-ass, idiotic, ludicrous, insane, crazy, ridiculous idea?"
"I'm still in the room, you know," Sam mutters under his breath, sounding hurt. It's at this point that the haze I've been in since Sam revealed that Donna has no intention of leaving Nathan, fades away, and I begin to realise it's quite possible that Hannah may have crossed a line.
"And finally, you wanted Sam to talk to Donna, like 'catch up, hey how are you? How's your new job?' Or talk to her like, 'you can't see Nathan anymore because Josh likes you?'"
"What does it matter?" I ask, regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth. Even Sam shakes his head at me. "She already broke up with him," I add, since I'm pretty much dying as it is.
"I could try and explain this until I'm blue in the face and you still won't get it. So let's not go there, shall we?"
She's pissed for several reasons right now, and I have no intension of bearing the brunt of that anger. "Fine."
Silence ensues for several, long moments before Hannah sighs, "I'm gonna go get some coffee. Do you guys want some?"
Understanding the pretext, the cover she's using to get the space she needs to calm down, I reply, "Yeah, sure."
Sam, on the other hand, doesn't register her excuse and follows her, leaving me trailing behind.
"Do we really need to do this? The question and answer, your interrogation—"
"Yes, Sam."
"No seriously, I think—"
"Sam, if you push me, I'll have no problems using you as a punching bag. And I'm speaking physically here."
Okay, she definitely crossed the line there.
There's cute, pissed off Hannah, who likes to tell us what we've done wrong, joke about it, and generally enjoys the hell out of embarrassing us by telling all about our latest screw up, while still being mad at us for screwing up in the first place.
But Hannah also has a tendency to relegate Sam and I to Frat Boy status, where we're too dumb to appreciate the severity of our mistakes, or just plain annoying her by trying to avoid making certain decisions and facing up to things. This Hannah, usually, is sweet and gentle, sometimes impatient, but ultimately there to help us to work through our mistakes, problems, etc… She was here last Friday when I needed to talk.
And then there's the Hannah that is emerging as we speak. The pissed off, worn out, condescending Hannah, who can go overboard in her treatment of Sam and I as bumbling idiots. She forgets the fact that we are actually grown men who can make mistakes. She has a tendency to say hurtful things in the midst of making a point, things that, despite however much she later says she didn't mean, still get to us.
I look to Sam to check out his reaction, which is when I notice Toby walking past. He looks in our direction and I discretely motion for him to join us. Hannah's worked herself into such a state that it's pretty much guaranteed she'll say things that she, Sam and I, will regret later.
"Toby, what are you still doing here?" I ask. Sam hangs back a bit, wary of Hannah's impending explosion.
"Fixing paragraphs four and six of Tuesday's speech."
"The Education thing? I thought the speech was locked," Hannah asks.
"It was but Leo decided to add to it at the last minute—federal testing for k-12 schools," I clarify.
"And I need to change the crap that is paragraphs four and six," Toby adds.
"Hey, I wrote those," Sam protests indignantly.
"I know," Toby answers. I signal Toby to take Sam away for a few moments so that I can have a quiet word with Hannah. "And since I have more important things to do than re-write two paragraphs a trained chimp could write in his sleep—"
"Is that your ever so polite way of asking me to re-work them?" Sam asks taking the bait.
"No, it's my perfectly clear way of telling you to re-write them. It would take the monkey what, five minutes? Should only take you half an hour."
"Gee, thanks Toby," Sam quips.
Toby looks to me to check that it is sufficient time and then leaves with Sam trailing behind.
Once he's out of earshot, Hannah states, "This is your fault, you know."
I'm sorry?
"Let's take this back into my office, Okay?" I interrupt, guiding her and therefore not really giving her a chance to object. Once we enter, I sit back in my chair, while Hannah takes a seat opposite.
"This is my fault?" I echo with incredulity. We don't even know what this is.
"I told you to concentrate on putting Amy behind you—"
"Amy is behind me," I interrupt.
"--I told you to let Donna reach the place you're at on her own."
"First, you really didn't. And second, you think I haven't? Where did I play a part in any of Donna's decisions?" Before Hannah can misinterpret what I just said, I clarify, "I mean, when, if ever, did I tell Donna splitting with Nathan was good idea?"
She doesn't answer, but instead says, "You bought Sam a break."
"No, I bought you one." She glares at me. "You don't think you were pushing it a little back there?" I ask.
"Josh—"
"You don't think you were coming on too strong a few moments ago?" I ask again.
"No."
No?
"You're pissed." I state the obvious.
"I'm really not."
She's kidding, right?
"There's pissed and there's about to snap and beat the crap out of someone," I ignore her and continue. "You were ready to vault across that line and become downright cruel. He screwed up, Hannah, but he doesn't need you, of all people, to treat him like a idiot and humiliate him."
"Please— If I ever got close to going that far, he would say something."
"No, he wouldn't. We both know that. And if I were him, I wouldn't either. We'd let you say whatever, we'd let you push our buttons and not say a thing back because we know that you're tired, that your buttons were pushed this week, and that you need to vent. So we wouldn't say a thing, and you know that's what we'd do, because we've done it countless times before. It's what we do." I let that sink in, and then add, "So I figured you could do with a time out before you said something you'd later regret."
"I didn't," she starts adamantly, but stops short, and tries again with less vigour. "I don't need to vent," she finishes, pretty much ignoring everything I've just said.
"No, of course you didn't," I retort sarcastically. "You just felt the need to chew Sam out over a mistake that he quite obviously regrets because you thought it'd be fun? You don't even know what it is he did, and you were primed and ready to use him as a punching bag."
She looks at me intently for minute, and then sighs, "Have I pushed any buttons already?"
"No, but you should—"
"Apologise," she finishes. We're both quite for a minute, when Hannah says, "So, I guess I owe you one, huh?"
"Nah," I smile, "I'd say we're even." Hannah laughs outright at that.
"So what was going on with Sam earlier? What did he say to Donna?"
"I wish to hell I knew," I sigh.
"You don't know what he did?"
"No, you walked in and started your diva act before he could tell me." She glares at me. "God I wish we knew," I breathe. She gives me an understanding look, and I suddenly feel uncomfortable. I quickly add, "So that you could fix it."
"Why thank you, Joshua," she says with an enigmatic smile, in spite of her drained appearance. She then stares at me unabashedly before saying, "You know, you say you don't know what Sam did but when you say it, you get this look…"
"Yeah?"
"What's wrong?"
"Hannah, I swear, I don't know anything."
"You know something, Josh. When I first came in you were doing the whole avoidance thing and instead of trying to talk to Sam and find out what happened, you were asking me irrelevant questions."
"Right, yeah," I sigh. "He just, he had this look; he doesn't think I can handle what he has to say. And the only thing I know don't want to hear right now…" I trail off letting the unfinished thought hang in the air.
He thinks Donna's falling for Nathan.
"Oh."
"Yeah," I clear my throat. "I know you think she might have feelings for me… but…"
"Josh…" she starts, sympathetically.
"Can we just drop this?"
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Yeah, but I'm asking. Lets concentrate on why you were ready to lay into Sam? Why were you so…?"
"Acting like a bitch on a power trip?"
"Your words."
She smiles. "There are many reasons."
"Give me one."
"You know that talk you and I had Friday night?"
"How could I forget?"
"Donna and I had a pretty similar one the next night."
Oh.
"And?"
"It took me five hours to get you to face up to facts, it took me five days with Donna and I still didn't get very far."
"Days?" I think my voice just went a little high there.
"I've known you over fourteen years, Josh. I've known her just under five, in which, excluding the past three months, I've probably talked to her a total of thirty hours. There are things I can say to you that I can't say to her; there are limits to what she can hear from me. And most importantly, she had so many more barriers put up than you did. She still has; she still has issues."
"I see. Five days," I repeat, more to myself.
"And we didn't even broach the ever so delightful topic of Joshua Lyman."
Okay.
"And now Sam— I don't even know what Sam did," she says, throwing her hands up in frustration.
"Hannah."
"No, don't worry, I'm not going there, I'm just saying."
"So, Amy and Bruno, and whatever else happened this week, had nothing to do with you taking out your frustration on Sam?"
She doesn't say anything, and I suddenly feel like I've been left out of the loop on a devastating secret. "If you gave me another half an hour, I'm pretty sure I would have taken it out on you too. In fact, I think I already did, " she sighs, regretfully.
"So…" I start, trying to move away from the previous thread of conversation.
"Yeah?"
"We have twenty minutes to kill before Sam gets back here and we can find out what the hell happened."
"Yeah," she sighs, closing her eyes and resting her head back against the chair. I can tell she's debating whether or not to clue me in on the secret.
Taking in her appearance and wondering how far I can push this, I ask, "Why didn't you tell me that they had broken up?"
"The same reason I haven't told Donna that you and Amy have broken up," she answers without opening her eyes.
"Which is?"
"Remember when I told you I wasn't going to influence your decision to be with Amy? I wasn't going to influence hers in regard to Nathan, either."
"Yeah, but I had already broken up with Amy. Telling me that Donna and Nathan aren't seeing each other anymore wouldn't have affected anything."
"Yeah, but there was also the fact that I didn't think she broke up with him for the right reasons—she seemed confused, and it turns out I was right." She opens her eyes and looks directly at me before saying, "And anyway, there are certain things that you and Donna need to talk to each other about. For starters: Amy and Nathan. And you have to do that without me. Do you understand?"
"Not really, but I'll accept it nonetheless," I smile. She returns my smile with a small one of her own.
"Josh?"
"Yeah?"
"You and Sam could have a little more faith in me."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I didn't need to vent. I wasn't venting."
"Hannah…"
"No, seriously, you think that because Amy made some stupid remarks I'm suddenly going to stop being a professional and turn into an emotional basket-case."
"We—"
"Her boyfriend just broke up with her and she was hurt. You guys really think that anything she could have said under those circumstances would have mattered? Forget that, are you seriously telling me you think that I take to heart anything she says?"
"You have history."
"Oh for the love of—give me strength. It doesn't occur to you guys that I have actually grown up? It doesn't occur to you that I graduated top of my class, that I'm a respected feminist and political advisor, or that I had a fantastic marriage and was loved beyond measure by a guy who would literally give up life for me. Or that I have amazing friends, in –laws and family. It doesn't occur to you that I've moved on. I feel sorry for her sometimes but I don't ever envy her."
"We mean well," I try and explain.
"And I get that, but could you please stop walking on eggshells every time Amy says something you think I won't like?"
"We don't always."
"No, but you're doing it enough to piss me off."
"Sorry," I say, contrite. "So why have you been… temperamental?"
"I haven't been well lately," she says, stretching, working out some kinks.
"Have you seen a doctor?"
She nods. "He's running some tests."
"What did Abbey say?"
"I haven't told her—"
"You were stuck in the Residence with her for over an hour in mothering mode and you managed to walk away without telling her?"
"Yup."
"You gotta teach me how to do that."
"Abbey acts like mother hen with you?" she asks incredulous. "I didn't think she liked you all that much."
"No, I was thinking more about Millicent."
"Ah, yeah, sorry, I can't help you out there—I haven't figured out a way to fool her."
I mock sigh. "Foiled again."
She chuckles but then her grin fades. "We don't have the relationship we once used to," she adds, referring to Abbey.
"Yeah." This is a sore spot for her.
"And I haven't mentioned this to Leo, Nick or Kate, so if you could, you know…" I look at her trying to read what she isn't saying. "I'm just… I'm telling you because…"
"Yeah?"
"I'm exhausted Josh, and people can see it and I just— you, Sam, and well, everyone for that matter, thinks that my general screw ups this week, and lets not forget Amy and Bruno, are the reason— and I'm okay with that. But I guess I need for you to really know why."
"Yeah."
"It just gets to me sometimes. You know me better than most and yet you can get things so wrong."
I nod, not really having an answer. "Leo can tell. He can tell that something's wrong with you."
Her head snaps up. "I know."
"He's worried."
"I know that too."
"You need to tell him."
"There's nothing to tell."
"Really? Because I get the impression there is."
"You should call Toby and tell him to send Sam back," she evades, simultaneously picking up the receiver and dialling the extension for me.
"Hannah." I manage to achieve the stern tone I was going for.
"He saw what my father went through, Josh," she slips. "Shit," she mutters under her breath.
"Did you just say what I think you said?"
She hands me the receiver. "Toby's on the line."
"Hey, Toby," I say into the phone, maintaining eye contact with Hannah. "Send Sam back, would you?" Toby tells me to hold on for a sec and then comes back on the line. I put him on speaker.
"Josh, he say's he'll be back there in twenty minutes; he wants to nail the speech now."
"He realises that twenty minutes is never enough, right?" I answer back, my chuckle at Sam being Sam, sounding hollow even to my ears.
"I'll kick him out in twenty minutes," Toby says, before hanging up.
"That's Sam for you," Hannah jumps in.
"Hannah," I almost implore.
"Please let it go, at least for now.
"Sure," I placate grudgingly.
"So, since when is the Education thing on the table?"
"You're complaining about this now? You were the one pushing Leo to convince the President to speak out on it."
"I'm not complaining—it's just the last time I talked to Leo there were things we weren't going to push and the Education thing was one of them."
"You're annoyed."
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are. What gives?"
"You're not annoyed? I mean, look at how you've had to run this administration. Your first year was spent being tied because the Uncle Jed was too afraid to push the boat, the second dealing with, you know… Rosslyn… The third spent on hearings and just trying to stay in the game, and now you're in re-election mode. When have you ever been given the freedom to actually push the agenda you want to?"
I look at her and try and piece together what she isn't saying. "Is that why you didn't take the job five years ago?"
"What?"
"When Leo and The President offered you the job during the first campaign, you didn't take it. You said something that didn't click with me back then. Did you know this would happen?"
"I had my suspicions—he wasn't ready to be President. I knew he wanted it, but I knew he wasn't ready and I knew I'd lose respect for him if he kept telling me to hold back because he wasn't ready to move forward."
"And now?"
"He's the President—he's comfortable in his role now."
"But?"
"He, and therefore Leo, are telling me to hold back."
"Hannah…" I start, not sure how to continue this. She wasn't kidding when she said there were a multitude of reasons for her bad mood.
"This is not a conversation we're having. I'm gonna go call Donna, just to, you know, check in. See how she's doing, and try and find out if things are as bad as Sam thinks they are."
"You realise this is a conversation that you have to have with them, at least."
"Not really," she shrugs, "I'm better at the avoidance thing than you are. So, anyway, I'm gonna go call Donna."
"Maybe you should have Sam call her," I shoot back sarcastically. I have no idea how my tone came across.
"I'll fix it, Josh, I promise. Don't look so worried."
She's trying to make light of the situation and it's not funny. But I go along with her attempts at moving the conversation along, at least for now. Instead, I give her a look.
"I'll get CJ to fix it," she corrects.
"This coming from the woman who was just about to blow an artery over this."
"You know, you've calmed down too. When I first walked in, you looked as if you were ready to cause some physical damage."
"Yeah, but then you came in and did your over the top act," I smile, "Kinda put things in perspective for me."
"So, Sam should feel lucky that we didn't find out together?"
"Yeah," I laugh.
"I'll be right back."
"Okay."
"And Donna does love you, Josh," she throws out as she leaves, leaving me with no witty retort. "I know all," she adds, shouting from the bullpen.
*
Ten minutes later, while I'm still processing the all the little bombs shells Hannah just dropped on me, she comes back in and tells me that my plans to meet Donna in a couple of hours have been cancelled. Instead, Donna will be embarking on a girls night out with herself and CJ.
Moments later Sam takes a tentative step into my office.
"How did the re-write go?" I ask as he slowly takes a seat.
"I wrote. Toby muttered something, ripped it up and then kicked me out."
"Sam?" Hannah says in a quite voice.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry—for, you know…"
"Don't worry about it."
"Are we okay?"
"Like I said Hannah, don't worry about it. It's ancient history, forgotten, completely—"
"We get it, Sam."
"Just thought I'd make sure."
Hannah smiles. After a moment, she asks, "So, Samuel, wanna fill us in on what happened exactly?"
TBC…
Next on Since Last May…
"Hannah, you weren't… you know, trying to set me up with the bartender, were you?"
"CJ, you're old enough to work out your own love life."
"Good. Because, like you said, I'm a grown women, who doesn't need help in that department."
"Sure you don't," she mollifies, but almost immediately adds, "Although, you have to admit, he is cute."
"No, I really don't." He's not cute. Handsome, perhaps— tall, striking even, but not so much cute.
"He went to Yale. He was a Wiffenpoof." I raise an eyebrow. "I heard that you wouldn't object to the idea of taking one of them home."
"Carol has a loud mouth," I mutter.
"Well, yeah she does, but Josh has an even bigger mouth."
"How the hell did Josh—never mind. It's better if I don't know. Speaking of Josh—"
"We actually weren't, but go for it."
"Josh and Donna."
"I like the way those names sound together, don't you?"
"What's up with them?"
"I'm sorry?"
"You know what I'm talking about."
"Yes," she nods, with a cat like grin that reminds me of Josh, dimples and all. "Yes I do."
"Care to share?"
"It's really not my place."
"And yet that does not stop you from annoying Leo."
"Well, that's because I know he's not paying any attention and it's fun to see him react to the word 'amorous'."
"I promise I won't pay any attention either."
"Yeah, but the problem there is that I don't believe you."
"I'm shocked," I grin. "Now dish the dirt."