Warning : Character death
PART TWO
2014, California
"Do you think he'll be here?" Sam asked. "CJ didn't say if he'd be able to come."
Ainsley sighed. He was anxious to see Toby again, she knew. And Donna was coming, too, which was a relief to her. The two women had bonded when Sam was in the hospital - when Donna had come with Josh, then when she had called, regularly, to cheer Ainsley up. She liked her friend, and she hadn't had that many opportunities to talk to her these last few months. She knew, thanks to CJ, that she was doing a lot better. She was slowly adjusting to her life without Josh, and she claimed that there were more good days than bad, now.
She knew Donna had taken it hard. Josh and her had been so happy together. She knew that Donna now regretted the time they had lost pretending to be 'normal coworkers', not daring to make a move for fear that it would change the way they were.
Ainsley had once overheard Sam talking to Donna on the phone. He had obviously been trying to comfort the young woman. "You know, I've never had that kind of relationship with any of the assistants I had," he was saying. "Donna, the two of you didn't need to date overtly to be in love. You just... were. You didn't lose any time, believe me."
From the face he wore when he finally hung up, she guessed that Donna hadn't reacted the way he had hoped she would.
Ainsley and Sam had been able to be present at the wedding - it had been a close thing, too, since a strike was paralyzing the state. Sam had had to be present during the negotiations, which had finally led to a settlement a few hours before their plane was to take off.
It had been a beautiful wedding. All the gang was there, the bride was beautiful, the groom was, well, Josh - which meant that he had wrinkles in his tux, and his hair was hopelessly muffled, and he had the biggest smile she had ever seen him when Donna's father had led her down the aisle.
He had also managed to stammer while saying his vows, and that had made everybody laugh. The fearless attack dog of the Bartlet administration, stammering at his own wedding.
They all missed him. Sam was staring at the waves, crashing on the sand a few feet from them, and she knew he was thinking that Josh should have been on that meeting. He should have been here with them, arguing with Toby and CJ, trying to convince Sam to go his way.
Speaking of CJ, she could hear the voice of the former press secretary approaching.
"For crying out loud, Toby, it's sand. You can take off your shoes."
"I don't think I will. Why the hell did Sam want us to meet here, anyway?"
Sam turned to her and winked. She knew why he had. He wanted to annoy Toby.
"Because it's beautiful out there?" CJ guessed.
"No, it's because he wanted to annoy me," Toby answered.
"You're always so over dramatic," Sam said, smiling to Toby and CJ as they arrived, followed closely by Donna.
"A beach?" Toby growled.
"We'll have fresh air, sun, the sound of the waves... It'll be inspiring. Besides, it's the first time I've been able to come to Los Angeles in months, and I missed it."
Ainsley observed them from her place, amused, as she always was, that even though they didn't see each other all that often anymore, they always resumed their relationship as if they had seen each other the day before.
"Well, it better be inspiring. You've got quite a few problems to tackle, here," Toby said.
As if they didn't all know that.
"I know," Sam said easily. "That's why I asked you to come." Then he paused, as if struck by an idea. "Wait, you'll help on the campaign, right?" he asked, a light in his eyes.
"You're asking now that we flew here?" Donna laughed, and she threw herself in his arms before turning to Ainsley. "Men," she said, rolling her eyes.
She looked better. Not happy, yet, but definitely not like she had a few months before.
"Will your staff be on it too?" CJ asked, getting down to business.
"The ones that count. But they're not used to working on national level, so I'd really appreciate - "
"We get it, that's why we're here," she said. "And hey, at least, most of the skeletons in your closet have been outed in the last gubernatorial course, haven't they?"
"Let's hope so," Sam said.
He looked skeptical, though. Ainsley and he knew how easily journalists could manufacture a scandal, twist the facts to make them look bad - destroy a career or make it.
They had learned that early on.
**********
2010, California
Sam's first gubernatorial campaign had been marked by the press unburying old stories - Laurie and the President's MS being the more damaging ones.
The second time, perhaps to be innovative, as Ainsley sarcastically put it, they focussed their attacks on his staff, and, more specifically, on his speechwriter, Jim, who had met a man a few months before. The two had ended up in bed, but unfortunately, Jim's partner wasn't looking for romance, but for money. He had taken Jim to his place, and arranged for a friend to take pictures, some of them as they were leaving the bar where they had met, others while they were kissing in Jim's car and others during... during.
When Jim had woken up, the guy was gone, and there was a note. "I'll call you."
He had called, at the end of the week, and asked to see him again. Jim had hoped that maybe the guy just wanted another date. No such luck; he had been shown the pictures that had been taken, and been offered a choice: pay or they go to the press.
Jim had paid.
Then paid some more, when his 'date' had asked for more.
It had gone on for a few weeks, until Jim had finally gathered the courage to talk to Peter, who had talked to Colleen, who had yelled, taken two aspirins, and called a friend of hers, working in the police, who owed her and would be discreet.
Sam learned about all that when Jim requested a few minutes of his time. He explained everything, and Sam fleetingly wondered how he would have reacted, all those years ago, if Laurie hadn't been an honest woman who just happened to be a call-girl. What if there had been pictures?
"You should have gone to Pete right away," he told Jim when he stopped speaking.
"I know."
"We would have handled it."
"I know."
"I didn't know you were gay."
"I'm bi. I'd never dated men since I began working for you. He just... he seemed sympathetic. I trusted him."
Sam could understand that, oh so well.
"I'm sorry I lied."
"I'm sorry you lied, too," Sam said tiredly. At the look of near panic on the other man's face, he added quickly, "I won't fire you over this, but it's gonna get ugly. For you. And I'm not sure there's a way to avoid that."
"But the campaign..." Jim said
Sam shrugged. "We'll drop a few points, there will be people to scream at us because we let a gay man work at a high position, some others won't appreciate that you didn't come out earlier, we'll spin it, we'll move on," he predicted.
Jim looked at him, his eyes like saucers. Sam smiled. "Look, President Bartlet was re-elected after having disclosed that he had MS and had concealed it. I'm sure your being gay won't hurt me all that much. This said..." He hesitated and looked at the younger man thoughtfully. "That's your call. If you stay here, you won't be able to hide and wait until the worst of the storm is over."
Jim thought for a moment, his eyes staring at the floor, then looked at him, frightened and determined at the same time. "I love it here," he said.
Sam smiled. "Okay. Call the people you want to warn by yourself. Colleen told me that you had stopped paying, he shouldn't wait too long before going to a journalist."
"Yes, Governor."
"Try to sleep tonight, it may be your last chance in a while."
"Yes, sir."
The story hit the fan two days later. The pictures were published, and Jim, after answering the press questions as if they weren't about the most intimate details of his love life, ended up sobbing in his office later in the day. His parents were going to see these pictures, he told Colleen when she found him. His friends, everyone he knew was going to see the pictures.
There wasn't much they could do for the young man, Sam discovered. They could support him, say that he had decided not to cave in to blackmail, that being gay, or bisexual, was his right, that none of this tainted the fact that he did excellent work.
They couldn't stop the press from publishing the pictures, they couldn't stop the people from looking at them.
They couldn't stop all the people who wrote, or called the office to ask why 'that man' was still working there.
There were days when Sam hated his job.
**********
2014
Donna had gone away to watch the waves, and Sam went to her.
"Are you sure that walking on sand is good for your leg?" she asked.
He shrugged lightly. "Worst case scenario, Ains' will have to give me a massage tonight," he winked.
She laughed sharply. "So you had a secret agenda, asking us to come here?"
"Well, as far as you're concerned, I sure had," he said, and she raised an eyebrow. "How are you?"
"Better. It's... I still cry sometimes."
He sometimes cried over the loss of Ben, too. On his birthday, on the day he had died, on the day he had learned Ainsley was pregnant with him. Christmas, New Year's Eve. Those were days he dreaded, days he immersed himself in his work. Ainsley spent these days outside, doing... something, anything not to think. Then at night, they cried in each other's arms and fell asleep, thinking that it was yet another day of remembrance passed.
He didn't think it would comfort Donna to know that. At least Ainsley and him were together. Donna had found herself alone after Josh's death. They had never had the time to have kids. "We kept pushing back," she had once told him. "There was always something else on the agenda. Then..."
Then the phone had rung.
**********
2011, California
Their January-the-1st phone calls had become a tradition soon after Josh's first epiphany. They mostly told each other what they had done the night before, then gave grief to each other, mocking their respective resolutions.
"I'll try not to work that hard," Josh was vouching that year, and Sam couldn't help but laugh. They were all workaholics, and that was a promise they made each year, and never even tried to keep.
"Yeah, right, find something else," he said.
"I... hum... I'll be more attentive to Donna's needs."
Sam could picture the way his friend had brightened at that. His eyes always lit up whenever he was talking about his wife. "She just entered the room, didn't she?"
"Hey," Josh said indignantly, "I can make these kinds of promises without being coerced into doing so."
Sam heard Donna's voice shouting something, but couldn't make out the words. He could guess, though. "You were saying?" he snickered.
"What are * you * going to do?" Josh countered.
He thought for a while, then proposed "I'll try not to be so overprotective with Alex."
"To quote someone famous, 'Yeah, right, find something else', Sam."
He was right, and Sam didn't insist. "I'll... hum... try to be less obsessive when it comes to speeches my staff crafts for me."
"You will?" He seemed doubtful, as was Ainsley, who was sitting in front of him, waiting for her chance to talk to Donna.
"I said I'd try," he said. "And I think our wives want to have a chat, Mister Attentive."
"You're still coming, right?"
"We'll be there in two weeks," he promised before Ainsley grabbed the phone away from him.
"Donna? How much did Josh drink this year?"
**********
Nine days later, the phone rang in the middle of the night.
Sam took it and mumbled a vague "Yeah."
"Sam, it's me."
"CJ?" he asked, sitting up.
He'd gotten used to being woken up in the middle of the night in the last few years - one of the drawbacks of his job - but there was something in CJ's voice that made him instantly realize that something was very wrong.
"Look, Sam..."
He felt a lump form in his throat and swallowed convulsively. This wasn't going to be good. "What?"
"Sam, there's been a - " She stopped, and began again: "I'm with Donna, right now, and the thing is, Josh was... he had to go to the store because they didn't have coffee anymore, and there was a robbery at the store, and the guy got out and Josh was... he was in the way, Sam... and it seems, the police thinks he panicked, and he shot Josh."
He had closed his eyes somewhere during her rant. "Which hospital?" he asked, knowing that she would already have told him if he was alive, but refusing to hear it.
Ainsley had awoken and she sat up next to him and put her arms around his waist, obviously alarmed by his voice.
"Sam..." CJ began, and her voice broke.
"Which one?" he asked pleadingly, thinking, "Please, please, don't let it be serious, don't let Josh be..."
CJ's voice cut through his thoughts. "Sam, God, I'm so sorry I have to tell you this... Josh was very seriously hurt, Sam. He... The ambulance was there really fast, and the medics tried. They really did, but - "
"Which hospital?" he insisted, beginning to feel light-headed and fighting the urge to hang up on her, to avoid hearing the words that he was sure would come and make it final.
"Sam, he didn't make it," CJ finally said. "He's dead."
He wanted to argue, to tell her that it was impossible, that he had talked to him, that they'd joked about the fact that he had gotten drunk and embarrassed himself on New Year's Eve, that Josh * couldn't * be dead, but he knew perfectly well that she wouldn't have called him if she hadn't been sure.
"Sam?" CJ asked cautiously.
"How's Donna?" he managed.
"The doctors gave her something, she's resting now. I'm busy calling, you know, everyone. You're... I thought... You're the first one I called, because..." Her voice broke and he sighed.
"I'll call a few people if you want me to."
"Sam, his mother... I tried, I almost dialed the number a few times, but I can't."
He was about to suggest that she call Leo - he was the one who knew her the best - but then he realized that Josh was kind of his son, too. And President Bartlet, who'd told them once that they were the sons he had never had. Maybe they should call Abbey first, but Sam knew Leo would prefer if it was coming from one of them. Donna was always the one they turned to in crisis, but this time, she was the one in need.
God, Josh, he thought.
"Sam, you're still there?"
"Yeah. Call Toby, he'll come into DC right away."
She gave a small gasp. "Yeah. I... God, Sam, he's going to - "
"CJ," he interrupted gently, "None of these calls are going to be easy. You deal with Toby, I'll call Leo and the Bartlets and ask them what we do about Mrs Lyman. Someone will have to call the assistants, too."
"I'll ask Toby," CJ muttered.
"OK. I'll call you back in, say, an hour."
"Yes. Sam, I didn't want to give the impression that it was, you know, easy, to call you first. You're just... You..."
"I know, CJ, it's okay. Give my love to Donna if she wakes up."
"I will. Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
"Love you too, Ceej. Talk to you later."
He never knew if she added something, he just hung up and sat there. Somewhere during the conversation, he didn't know when, Ainsley had turned on the lights, and she was rubbing his back silently. "Sam?"
"Josh is dead," he said flatly.
"I had gathered that."
"I need to make some calls."
"Okay," she said, not stopping the rubbing.
"I better do it now," he added, not moving, and her head came to rest on his shoulder.
"I'll stay with you," she muttered.
**********
Two days after that, they were attending what Sam would always remember as one of the worst funerals of his life.
He hated funerals. It had been two years since his son had died, and he had vaguely hoped that he would never have to bury someone close to him ever again.
No luck there.
He didn't remember Ben's funeral at all, except from a few images here and there, but Josh's stayed engraved in his mind.
Marjorie Lyman barely reacted as people came to her, presenting their condolences. Leo had been the one to call her after all - Sam had volunteered, but Leo had refused to hear any of it, and he had to admit that he was glad the older man accepted to be the one to do it. He felt like a coward for letting him do that, but on the other hand, oh, how he had been grateful not to have to be the one who would announce to the old woman that she had survived her two children and a husband.
Leo had been in Manchester with the Bartlets when Sam had called, so he hadn't had to repeat the story too many times, which was a good thing since it took him a good ten minutes of tap dancing around the bad news to finally get it out.
And there, in the synagogue, surrounded by Josh's relatives and friends, he still couldn't believe it. How could something like that have happened?
He had assumed that lightning wouldn't strike twice. After Rosslyn, he'd thought they had paid enough. He'd obviously been very wrong. And now Josh was dead, killed by an anonymous robber who had managed to do what the Virginia White Pride hadn't been able to. And he'd died alone, on a dark parking lot, and that thought alone was almost unbearable.
President Bartlet got up to say a few words at the request of the Rabbi. Donna buried her head in Sam's shoulder. She'd taken a grab of his hand this morning and she wasn't letting go, which was just fine with him. Ainsley, on his right, was squeezing his hand with all her (considerable) might, and that was good with him, too.
He tried to listen to what Bartlet had to say, gave up when the former President talked about the first day he had met Josh, and let his thoughts wander.
**********
Later that day, everyone had gathered in Marjorie's house. Sam was trying very hard not to look at all the framed pictures of Josh on the walls.
After a while, unable to stand the sad faces any longer, he sneaked out and went out to walk on the grass for a while. Bartlet startled him. "You OK, son?"
"Yes, sir," he choked out.
"Yes, I can see that," Bartlet sarcastically replied. "And when will you stop calling me 'Sir', Governor?" Sam smiled weakly and Bartlet nodded. "Seriously, how do you feel, Sam?"
He shrugged. "It hasn't sunk in, yet," he admitted. "And I'm not particularly looking forward to the moment it will. You?"
"Same way. It's just... He had to go like that? And so soon? I know you don't like hearing it, but god, you're all so young, yet."
There was a time when Sam didn't like hearing that, but he didn't mind that much anymore. Mostly because it was true. "I know," he sighed.
"It's ridiculous, really," Bartlet added. "Leo, me, even Josh's mother... we should be the ones you all bury, not the other way around."
Sam remembered what his own father had told him, shortly after Ben's funeral. "It's not the way it should be. The young bury the old, not the other way around."
The silence stretched on for a while and he finally admitted "I'm not sure what to do next."
"Next as in today, or next as in..."
"Next as in after Josh," he clarified. They didn't even live in the same state anymore and until then, he hadn't realized how much they still influenced each other's life - how much Josh was still part of his. Even when they weren't talking to each other, they had gravitated around each other, always aware that the other was there, somewhere. How was he going to stop thinking about calling his friend each time something big happened to him?
"Neither do I."
They stayed there for a while, and Sam let memories float in his mind until he began to laugh slightly at one of them.
"Want to share?" Bartlet asked.
"I was just recalling the day he came to get me in New York."
"That's true, he's the one who brought you on board," Bartlet mused. "I should have thanked him for that."
"He stood there, dripping water on the carpet - the very expensive carpet, I should add - and with the biggest smile ever on his face. And I knew he had found - "
He suddenly stopped, not knowing if Bartlet ever knew how much he'd meant to them.
"The real thing," Bartlet sighed.
"I'm sorry. We added pressure, there, didn't we?"
"Why, not at all, Governor," he replied sarcastically. "You just gave me the impression that I was your Grail, an idol, someone who couldn't possibly do anything wrong."
They had, but that's what they had felt, too.
"I'm sorry about the lies," Bartlet added suddenly.
Sam tried to stop him from talking, but Bartlet motioned for him to shut up, and he did.
"I'm sorry I betrayed you all. I had my reasons for lying. Some were good, some bad, but Sam, you have to believe that I didn't mean any harm. But I was wrong when I refused to apologize for lying, for not acknowledging that I had dragged people into my problems. I just... I honestly didn't think we'd win. In fact, I wouldn't have won without you guys. When they called the election, the die was cast, and I thought that it would never go too far, that I'd govern for four years and let Hoynes take over. I'm sorry, I... miscalculated."
Sam nodded. He knew more about compromising than he had before. He knew more about how leaders were also human beings - fragile, prone to mistakes sometimes, arrogant most of the time. And, sometimes, blinded by their desire to do good.
He would always think that Bartlet had been wrong, but now, he didn't see him as his hope for a new, better life. Now, he saw Bartlet as a human - someone who had tried his best, like they all did.
Now, he could forgive.
"I know you are," he said. "And for what it's worth, I've long since stopped being mad."
Bartlet nodded. "Good."
Sam's thoughts went back to Josh - how his friend had battled to make Bartlet stay in the White House, back then. Had his friend known all along, that their leader was just human? Or had he just adapted more quickly than Sam had?
"Sam? What are you thinking?"
"Josh," he said simply.
Bartlet chuckled. "The two of you were so... There were days I feared for Washington, you know? When you were on a crusade, you could be truly terrifying."
"That bad?" Sam grimaced. He still clung to his ideals but he had long since stopped hoping he would single handedly change the world. Now, he was learning how to surround himself with people who would be able to help him do that.
"Oh, yes," he laughed. "The two of you are - "
He stopped abruptly, and whatever peace Sam and him had found disappeared.
They were going to have to talk about Josh in past tense, now, Sam thought. Right then, it only seemed bittersweet. It's only later that he would remember this conversation as the moment Josh's death had begun to sink in.
**********
2014, California
Leaving Donna near the water, Sam went back to the others who were arguing the pros and cons of talking about Sam's days as a Bartlet staffer.
"Forget it," Sam said.
"It's an asset, Sam. People have forgotten the MS, they remember that he was a good president, they - "
"Toby, I don't want to be that guy."
"What guy? The one who actually knows what it's like inside the Oval?"
"The guy who uses the shadow of a famous man to be elected."
"It's not like that."
"If I do that, they'll expect another Bartlet. They'll compare me to him. They'll expect me to follow in his steps. I don't want that pressure."
The others seemed to ponder that, and Ainsley shot him a smile.
He knew, oh he knew, that for all his flaws, Bartlet was revered by most of his former staff.
Not by him, it was as simple at that. Oh, Sam admired and loved the man. He thought he had done a good job as a President, despite all the mistakes and the missed opportunities. He also thought he wouldn't go down in history as anything but 'the President who had lied about his MS', and it saddened him, because he deserved better. He thought that something had held Bartlet back - his fear of losing, maybe. His fear of not being re elected.
He knew the older man was beginning to regret it now.
All the more reason he didn't want to emphasize his involvement in the administration. If he did that, it would feel too much like stepping up to fulfil his father's dreams.
This campaign was his. And Ainsley's.
This was his thing, his dream, his hope, his ambition, whatever.
Not Bartlet's.
He hoped the older man would find peace eventually, but he had had his shot.
"We'll talk more about it," Toby said, and Ainsley muttered something that no one quite caught, but that sounded suspiciously like "Let him rest in peace already."
Sam sighed.
This was going to be a long campaign indeed.
Maybe he still had the time to change his mind and run for governor again?
Not that running for Governor had been a walk in the park. And then, there had been election night.
Sam hated those ...
**********
2010, California
Sam wasn't enjoying election night. Not at all. He was too busy pacing the floor of his office, calculating who was going to win the Presidential election, and whether Charlie would win his seat in Senate.
With CJ and Toby in New York, Josh and Donna in Washington, and the Bartlets in New Hampshire, the conversation was lively. The six of them were speculating, cutting each other off, taking it almost as much to heart as if they had worked on the campaign. Sam strongly suspected that the others would have loved to be asked, no matter what their feelings for Hoynes were.
Ainsley had come to sit with him, not bothering to hide her smirk as Hoynes lost California.
Sam finally decided to hang up, telling the others that he had speeches to go over and a republican wife who was enjoying their conversation way too much for his taste.
"I'm sorry," he told her afterwards. "I keep forgetting that we're not, you know, on the same side on this."
She looked at him in the dangerous way he had come to recognize over the years. "Not on the same side?" she asked softly.
Ouch. Soft Ainsley was never a good sign.
"I meant that, well, you're a republican, and I'm not, so..."
"So, you still assume that I'm faithful to the party line, no matter what?" she asked.
"Well - "
"I voted for Hoynes," she said, and he gulped.
"Why?"
"Why? Because Ritchie is an idiot and I don't want him as the leader of my country anymore. Sam, the economy hadn't been as bad as it is right now for a decade, and there's conservative, and then there's conservative, you know? Just because he's a republican doesn't mean I'll vote automatically for him. I like what Hoynes is trying to do. That's all there is to it."
"Okay. I just..." He sat down. "We've known each other for so long now, that I sometimes forget that we started out as enemies."
"Ferocious ones," she agreed seriously, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, now you're just mocking me."
"Sam, you've come to see my way on some issues, and I can't tell you how glad I was when you agreed with me on some of them, and I've come to think like you on some issues. Does it always have to be about partisanship? Can't we... aren't there times when both our parties are right, and you just happen to agree with one of them and not the other?" She paused to take a breath, and her tone softened. "You're the one who taught me that, in case you've forgotten. You're the one who accepted to debate with me, to not dismiss my opinions because they didn't match yours."
"I guess so," he admitted. "But there are issues we'll never agree on."
"Yeah. Like every couple."
"I had actually considered that," he said.
She mock applauded him. "What a great thinker you are," she laughed.
"Okay, now you're just mocking me," he repeated, and she laughed harder.
"You're just tired, honey," she said. "You'd never have started that conversation otherwise."
"Yeah."
"Because you've known all that for a long time," she finished, leaning in to kiss him.
They were still kissing when the presidential election was called for Hoynes and the phone rang, asking for Sam to go back to the headquarters, as the results were about to be announced.
**********
2014
"So where are we?" Donna asked, coming back from the shore and throwing herself on the sand, ignoring the glare Toby shot her when sand flied on his legal pad.
"Toby is trying to convince Sam to fire his speechwriting staff," CJ sighed.
"Oh God."
"Indeed."
"They're good," Sam insisted.
"They're young," Toby answered, in the same tone.
"Well, so were we once, you grumpy old schmutz," Sam growled.
The campaign would be a long one, he thought, especially if he had to keep his staff safe from Toby's wrath.
"Grumpy old schmutz?"
"That's what I said," Sam answered.
"You've been hanging around with CJ a little too much... Robin."
He grimaced at this nickname. "That's Governor to you, Bruce," he answered. He had been trying to sound terse, but it came out as petulant.
Great, just the image of professionalism he wanted to give...
"Men," Donna muttered.
Sam shrugged, and gave up when he saw CJ and Ainsley laughing softly.
"Whatever," he said, trying to derail the conversation before he lost all dignity - hoping it wasn't too late. "What now?"
PART TWO
2014, California
"Do you think he'll be here?" Sam asked. "CJ didn't say if he'd be able to come."
Ainsley sighed. He was anxious to see Toby again, she knew. And Donna was coming, too, which was a relief to her. The two women had bonded when Sam was in the hospital - when Donna had come with Josh, then when she had called, regularly, to cheer Ainsley up. She liked her friend, and she hadn't had that many opportunities to talk to her these last few months. She knew, thanks to CJ, that she was doing a lot better. She was slowly adjusting to her life without Josh, and she claimed that there were more good days than bad, now.
She knew Donna had taken it hard. Josh and her had been so happy together. She knew that Donna now regretted the time they had lost pretending to be 'normal coworkers', not daring to make a move for fear that it would change the way they were.
Ainsley had once overheard Sam talking to Donna on the phone. He had obviously been trying to comfort the young woman. "You know, I've never had that kind of relationship with any of the assistants I had," he was saying. "Donna, the two of you didn't need to date overtly to be in love. You just... were. You didn't lose any time, believe me."
From the face he wore when he finally hung up, she guessed that Donna hadn't reacted the way he had hoped she would.
Ainsley and Sam had been able to be present at the wedding - it had been a close thing, too, since a strike was paralyzing the state. Sam had had to be present during the negotiations, which had finally led to a settlement a few hours before their plane was to take off.
It had been a beautiful wedding. All the gang was there, the bride was beautiful, the groom was, well, Josh - which meant that he had wrinkles in his tux, and his hair was hopelessly muffled, and he had the biggest smile she had ever seen him when Donna's father had led her down the aisle.
He had also managed to stammer while saying his vows, and that had made everybody laugh. The fearless attack dog of the Bartlet administration, stammering at his own wedding.
They all missed him. Sam was staring at the waves, crashing on the sand a few feet from them, and she knew he was thinking that Josh should have been on that meeting. He should have been here with them, arguing with Toby and CJ, trying to convince Sam to go his way.
Speaking of CJ, she could hear the voice of the former press secretary approaching.
"For crying out loud, Toby, it's sand. You can take off your shoes."
"I don't think I will. Why the hell did Sam want us to meet here, anyway?"
Sam turned to her and winked. She knew why he had. He wanted to annoy Toby.
"Because it's beautiful out there?" CJ guessed.
"No, it's because he wanted to annoy me," Toby answered.
"You're always so over dramatic," Sam said, smiling to Toby and CJ as they arrived, followed closely by Donna.
"A beach?" Toby growled.
"We'll have fresh air, sun, the sound of the waves... It'll be inspiring. Besides, it's the first time I've been able to come to Los Angeles in months, and I missed it."
Ainsley observed them from her place, amused, as she always was, that even though they didn't see each other all that often anymore, they always resumed their relationship as if they had seen each other the day before.
"Well, it better be inspiring. You've got quite a few problems to tackle, here," Toby said.
As if they didn't all know that.
"I know," Sam said easily. "That's why I asked you to come." Then he paused, as if struck by an idea. "Wait, you'll help on the campaign, right?" he asked, a light in his eyes.
"You're asking now that we flew here?" Donna laughed, and she threw herself in his arms before turning to Ainsley. "Men," she said, rolling her eyes.
She looked better. Not happy, yet, but definitely not like she had a few months before.
"Will your staff be on it too?" CJ asked, getting down to business.
"The ones that count. But they're not used to working on national level, so I'd really appreciate - "
"We get it, that's why we're here," she said. "And hey, at least, most of the skeletons in your closet have been outed in the last gubernatorial course, haven't they?"
"Let's hope so," Sam said.
He looked skeptical, though. Ainsley and he knew how easily journalists could manufacture a scandal, twist the facts to make them look bad - destroy a career or make it.
They had learned that early on.
**********
2010, California
Sam's first gubernatorial campaign had been marked by the press unburying old stories - Laurie and the President's MS being the more damaging ones.
The second time, perhaps to be innovative, as Ainsley sarcastically put it, they focussed their attacks on his staff, and, more specifically, on his speechwriter, Jim, who had met a man a few months before. The two had ended up in bed, but unfortunately, Jim's partner wasn't looking for romance, but for money. He had taken Jim to his place, and arranged for a friend to take pictures, some of them as they were leaving the bar where they had met, others while they were kissing in Jim's car and others during... during.
When Jim had woken up, the guy was gone, and there was a note. "I'll call you."
He had called, at the end of the week, and asked to see him again. Jim had hoped that maybe the guy just wanted another date. No such luck; he had been shown the pictures that had been taken, and been offered a choice: pay or they go to the press.
Jim had paid.
Then paid some more, when his 'date' had asked for more.
It had gone on for a few weeks, until Jim had finally gathered the courage to talk to Peter, who had talked to Colleen, who had yelled, taken two aspirins, and called a friend of hers, working in the police, who owed her and would be discreet.
Sam learned about all that when Jim requested a few minutes of his time. He explained everything, and Sam fleetingly wondered how he would have reacted, all those years ago, if Laurie hadn't been an honest woman who just happened to be a call-girl. What if there had been pictures?
"You should have gone to Pete right away," he told Jim when he stopped speaking.
"I know."
"We would have handled it."
"I know."
"I didn't know you were gay."
"I'm bi. I'd never dated men since I began working for you. He just... he seemed sympathetic. I trusted him."
Sam could understand that, oh so well.
"I'm sorry I lied."
"I'm sorry you lied, too," Sam said tiredly. At the look of near panic on the other man's face, he added quickly, "I won't fire you over this, but it's gonna get ugly. For you. And I'm not sure there's a way to avoid that."
"But the campaign..." Jim said
Sam shrugged. "We'll drop a few points, there will be people to scream at us because we let a gay man work at a high position, some others won't appreciate that you didn't come out earlier, we'll spin it, we'll move on," he predicted.
Jim looked at him, his eyes like saucers. Sam smiled. "Look, President Bartlet was re-elected after having disclosed that he had MS and had concealed it. I'm sure your being gay won't hurt me all that much. This said..." He hesitated and looked at the younger man thoughtfully. "That's your call. If you stay here, you won't be able to hide and wait until the worst of the storm is over."
Jim thought for a moment, his eyes staring at the floor, then looked at him, frightened and determined at the same time. "I love it here," he said.
Sam smiled. "Okay. Call the people you want to warn by yourself. Colleen told me that you had stopped paying, he shouldn't wait too long before going to a journalist."
"Yes, Governor."
"Try to sleep tonight, it may be your last chance in a while."
"Yes, sir."
The story hit the fan two days later. The pictures were published, and Jim, after answering the press questions as if they weren't about the most intimate details of his love life, ended up sobbing in his office later in the day. His parents were going to see these pictures, he told Colleen when she found him. His friends, everyone he knew was going to see the pictures.
There wasn't much they could do for the young man, Sam discovered. They could support him, say that he had decided not to cave in to blackmail, that being gay, or bisexual, was his right, that none of this tainted the fact that he did excellent work.
They couldn't stop the press from publishing the pictures, they couldn't stop the people from looking at them.
They couldn't stop all the people who wrote, or called the office to ask why 'that man' was still working there.
There were days when Sam hated his job.
**********
2014
Donna had gone away to watch the waves, and Sam went to her.
"Are you sure that walking on sand is good for your leg?" she asked.
He shrugged lightly. "Worst case scenario, Ains' will have to give me a massage tonight," he winked.
She laughed sharply. "So you had a secret agenda, asking us to come here?"
"Well, as far as you're concerned, I sure had," he said, and she raised an eyebrow. "How are you?"
"Better. It's... I still cry sometimes."
He sometimes cried over the loss of Ben, too. On his birthday, on the day he had died, on the day he had learned Ainsley was pregnant with him. Christmas, New Year's Eve. Those were days he dreaded, days he immersed himself in his work. Ainsley spent these days outside, doing... something, anything not to think. Then at night, they cried in each other's arms and fell asleep, thinking that it was yet another day of remembrance passed.
He didn't think it would comfort Donna to know that. At least Ainsley and him were together. Donna had found herself alone after Josh's death. They had never had the time to have kids. "We kept pushing back," she had once told him. "There was always something else on the agenda. Then..."
Then the phone had rung.
**********
2011, California
Their January-the-1st phone calls had become a tradition soon after Josh's first epiphany. They mostly told each other what they had done the night before, then gave grief to each other, mocking their respective resolutions.
"I'll try not to work that hard," Josh was vouching that year, and Sam couldn't help but laugh. They were all workaholics, and that was a promise they made each year, and never even tried to keep.
"Yeah, right, find something else," he said.
"I... hum... I'll be more attentive to Donna's needs."
Sam could picture the way his friend had brightened at that. His eyes always lit up whenever he was talking about his wife. "She just entered the room, didn't she?"
"Hey," Josh said indignantly, "I can make these kinds of promises without being coerced into doing so."
Sam heard Donna's voice shouting something, but couldn't make out the words. He could guess, though. "You were saying?" he snickered.
"What are * you * going to do?" Josh countered.
He thought for a while, then proposed "I'll try not to be so overprotective with Alex."
"To quote someone famous, 'Yeah, right, find something else', Sam."
He was right, and Sam didn't insist. "I'll... hum... try to be less obsessive when it comes to speeches my staff crafts for me."
"You will?" He seemed doubtful, as was Ainsley, who was sitting in front of him, waiting for her chance to talk to Donna.
"I said I'd try," he said. "And I think our wives want to have a chat, Mister Attentive."
"You're still coming, right?"
"We'll be there in two weeks," he promised before Ainsley grabbed the phone away from him.
"Donna? How much did Josh drink this year?"
**********
Nine days later, the phone rang in the middle of the night.
Sam took it and mumbled a vague "Yeah."
"Sam, it's me."
"CJ?" he asked, sitting up.
He'd gotten used to being woken up in the middle of the night in the last few years - one of the drawbacks of his job - but there was something in CJ's voice that made him instantly realize that something was very wrong.
"Look, Sam..."
He felt a lump form in his throat and swallowed convulsively. This wasn't going to be good. "What?"
"Sam, there's been a - " She stopped, and began again: "I'm with Donna, right now, and the thing is, Josh was... he had to go to the store because they didn't have coffee anymore, and there was a robbery at the store, and the guy got out and Josh was... he was in the way, Sam... and it seems, the police thinks he panicked, and he shot Josh."
He had closed his eyes somewhere during her rant. "Which hospital?" he asked, knowing that she would already have told him if he was alive, but refusing to hear it.
Ainsley had awoken and she sat up next to him and put her arms around his waist, obviously alarmed by his voice.
"Sam..." CJ began, and her voice broke.
"Which one?" he asked pleadingly, thinking, "Please, please, don't let it be serious, don't let Josh be..."
CJ's voice cut through his thoughts. "Sam, God, I'm so sorry I have to tell you this... Josh was very seriously hurt, Sam. He... The ambulance was there really fast, and the medics tried. They really did, but - "
"Which hospital?" he insisted, beginning to feel light-headed and fighting the urge to hang up on her, to avoid hearing the words that he was sure would come and make it final.
"Sam, he didn't make it," CJ finally said. "He's dead."
He wanted to argue, to tell her that it was impossible, that he had talked to him, that they'd joked about the fact that he had gotten drunk and embarrassed himself on New Year's Eve, that Josh * couldn't * be dead, but he knew perfectly well that she wouldn't have called him if she hadn't been sure.
"Sam?" CJ asked cautiously.
"How's Donna?" he managed.
"The doctors gave her something, she's resting now. I'm busy calling, you know, everyone. You're... I thought... You're the first one I called, because..." Her voice broke and he sighed.
"I'll call a few people if you want me to."
"Sam, his mother... I tried, I almost dialed the number a few times, but I can't."
He was about to suggest that she call Leo - he was the one who knew her the best - but then he realized that Josh was kind of his son, too. And President Bartlet, who'd told them once that they were the sons he had never had. Maybe they should call Abbey first, but Sam knew Leo would prefer if it was coming from one of them. Donna was always the one they turned to in crisis, but this time, she was the one in need.
God, Josh, he thought.
"Sam, you're still there?"
"Yeah. Call Toby, he'll come into DC right away."
She gave a small gasp. "Yeah. I... God, Sam, he's going to - "
"CJ," he interrupted gently, "None of these calls are going to be easy. You deal with Toby, I'll call Leo and the Bartlets and ask them what we do about Mrs Lyman. Someone will have to call the assistants, too."
"I'll ask Toby," CJ muttered.
"OK. I'll call you back in, say, an hour."
"Yes. Sam, I didn't want to give the impression that it was, you know, easy, to call you first. You're just... You..."
"I know, CJ, it's okay. Give my love to Donna if she wakes up."
"I will. Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
"Love you too, Ceej. Talk to you later."
He never knew if she added something, he just hung up and sat there. Somewhere during the conversation, he didn't know when, Ainsley had turned on the lights, and she was rubbing his back silently. "Sam?"
"Josh is dead," he said flatly.
"I had gathered that."
"I need to make some calls."
"Okay," she said, not stopping the rubbing.
"I better do it now," he added, not moving, and her head came to rest on his shoulder.
"I'll stay with you," she muttered.
**********
Two days after that, they were attending what Sam would always remember as one of the worst funerals of his life.
He hated funerals. It had been two years since his son had died, and he had vaguely hoped that he would never have to bury someone close to him ever again.
No luck there.
He didn't remember Ben's funeral at all, except from a few images here and there, but Josh's stayed engraved in his mind.
Marjorie Lyman barely reacted as people came to her, presenting their condolences. Leo had been the one to call her after all - Sam had volunteered, but Leo had refused to hear any of it, and he had to admit that he was glad the older man accepted to be the one to do it. He felt like a coward for letting him do that, but on the other hand, oh, how he had been grateful not to have to be the one who would announce to the old woman that she had survived her two children and a husband.
Leo had been in Manchester with the Bartlets when Sam had called, so he hadn't had to repeat the story too many times, which was a good thing since it took him a good ten minutes of tap dancing around the bad news to finally get it out.
And there, in the synagogue, surrounded by Josh's relatives and friends, he still couldn't believe it. How could something like that have happened?
He had assumed that lightning wouldn't strike twice. After Rosslyn, he'd thought they had paid enough. He'd obviously been very wrong. And now Josh was dead, killed by an anonymous robber who had managed to do what the Virginia White Pride hadn't been able to. And he'd died alone, on a dark parking lot, and that thought alone was almost unbearable.
President Bartlet got up to say a few words at the request of the Rabbi. Donna buried her head in Sam's shoulder. She'd taken a grab of his hand this morning and she wasn't letting go, which was just fine with him. Ainsley, on his right, was squeezing his hand with all her (considerable) might, and that was good with him, too.
He tried to listen to what Bartlet had to say, gave up when the former President talked about the first day he had met Josh, and let his thoughts wander.
**********
Later that day, everyone had gathered in Marjorie's house. Sam was trying very hard not to look at all the framed pictures of Josh on the walls.
After a while, unable to stand the sad faces any longer, he sneaked out and went out to walk on the grass for a while. Bartlet startled him. "You OK, son?"
"Yes, sir," he choked out.
"Yes, I can see that," Bartlet sarcastically replied. "And when will you stop calling me 'Sir', Governor?" Sam smiled weakly and Bartlet nodded. "Seriously, how do you feel, Sam?"
He shrugged. "It hasn't sunk in, yet," he admitted. "And I'm not particularly looking forward to the moment it will. You?"
"Same way. It's just... He had to go like that? And so soon? I know you don't like hearing it, but god, you're all so young, yet."
There was a time when Sam didn't like hearing that, but he didn't mind that much anymore. Mostly because it was true. "I know," he sighed.
"It's ridiculous, really," Bartlet added. "Leo, me, even Josh's mother... we should be the ones you all bury, not the other way around."
Sam remembered what his own father had told him, shortly after Ben's funeral. "It's not the way it should be. The young bury the old, not the other way around."
The silence stretched on for a while and he finally admitted "I'm not sure what to do next."
"Next as in today, or next as in..."
"Next as in after Josh," he clarified. They didn't even live in the same state anymore and until then, he hadn't realized how much they still influenced each other's life - how much Josh was still part of his. Even when they weren't talking to each other, they had gravitated around each other, always aware that the other was there, somewhere. How was he going to stop thinking about calling his friend each time something big happened to him?
"Neither do I."
They stayed there for a while, and Sam let memories float in his mind until he began to laugh slightly at one of them.
"Want to share?" Bartlet asked.
"I was just recalling the day he came to get me in New York."
"That's true, he's the one who brought you on board," Bartlet mused. "I should have thanked him for that."
"He stood there, dripping water on the carpet - the very expensive carpet, I should add - and with the biggest smile ever on his face. And I knew he had found - "
He suddenly stopped, not knowing if Bartlet ever knew how much he'd meant to them.
"The real thing," Bartlet sighed.
"I'm sorry. We added pressure, there, didn't we?"
"Why, not at all, Governor," he replied sarcastically. "You just gave me the impression that I was your Grail, an idol, someone who couldn't possibly do anything wrong."
They had, but that's what they had felt, too.
"I'm sorry about the lies," Bartlet added suddenly.
Sam tried to stop him from talking, but Bartlet motioned for him to shut up, and he did.
"I'm sorry I betrayed you all. I had my reasons for lying. Some were good, some bad, but Sam, you have to believe that I didn't mean any harm. But I was wrong when I refused to apologize for lying, for not acknowledging that I had dragged people into my problems. I just... I honestly didn't think we'd win. In fact, I wouldn't have won without you guys. When they called the election, the die was cast, and I thought that it would never go too far, that I'd govern for four years and let Hoynes take over. I'm sorry, I... miscalculated."
Sam nodded. He knew more about compromising than he had before. He knew more about how leaders were also human beings - fragile, prone to mistakes sometimes, arrogant most of the time. And, sometimes, blinded by their desire to do good.
He would always think that Bartlet had been wrong, but now, he didn't see him as his hope for a new, better life. Now, he saw Bartlet as a human - someone who had tried his best, like they all did.
Now, he could forgive.
"I know you are," he said. "And for what it's worth, I've long since stopped being mad."
Bartlet nodded. "Good."
Sam's thoughts went back to Josh - how his friend had battled to make Bartlet stay in the White House, back then. Had his friend known all along, that their leader was just human? Or had he just adapted more quickly than Sam had?
"Sam? What are you thinking?"
"Josh," he said simply.
Bartlet chuckled. "The two of you were so... There were days I feared for Washington, you know? When you were on a crusade, you could be truly terrifying."
"That bad?" Sam grimaced. He still clung to his ideals but he had long since stopped hoping he would single handedly change the world. Now, he was learning how to surround himself with people who would be able to help him do that.
"Oh, yes," he laughed. "The two of you are - "
He stopped abruptly, and whatever peace Sam and him had found disappeared.
They were going to have to talk about Josh in past tense, now, Sam thought. Right then, it only seemed bittersweet. It's only later that he would remember this conversation as the moment Josh's death had begun to sink in.
**********
2014, California
Leaving Donna near the water, Sam went back to the others who were arguing the pros and cons of talking about Sam's days as a Bartlet staffer.
"Forget it," Sam said.
"It's an asset, Sam. People have forgotten the MS, they remember that he was a good president, they - "
"Toby, I don't want to be that guy."
"What guy? The one who actually knows what it's like inside the Oval?"
"The guy who uses the shadow of a famous man to be elected."
"It's not like that."
"If I do that, they'll expect another Bartlet. They'll compare me to him. They'll expect me to follow in his steps. I don't want that pressure."
The others seemed to ponder that, and Ainsley shot him a smile.
He knew, oh he knew, that for all his flaws, Bartlet was revered by most of his former staff.
Not by him, it was as simple at that. Oh, Sam admired and loved the man. He thought he had done a good job as a President, despite all the mistakes and the missed opportunities. He also thought he wouldn't go down in history as anything but 'the President who had lied about his MS', and it saddened him, because he deserved better. He thought that something had held Bartlet back - his fear of losing, maybe. His fear of not being re elected.
He knew the older man was beginning to regret it now.
All the more reason he didn't want to emphasize his involvement in the administration. If he did that, it would feel too much like stepping up to fulfil his father's dreams.
This campaign was his. And Ainsley's.
This was his thing, his dream, his hope, his ambition, whatever.
Not Bartlet's.
He hoped the older man would find peace eventually, but he had had his shot.
"We'll talk more about it," Toby said, and Ainsley muttered something that no one quite caught, but that sounded suspiciously like "Let him rest in peace already."
Sam sighed.
This was going to be a long campaign indeed.
Maybe he still had the time to change his mind and run for governor again?
Not that running for Governor had been a walk in the park. And then, there had been election night.
Sam hated those ...
**********
2010, California
Sam wasn't enjoying election night. Not at all. He was too busy pacing the floor of his office, calculating who was going to win the Presidential election, and whether Charlie would win his seat in Senate.
With CJ and Toby in New York, Josh and Donna in Washington, and the Bartlets in New Hampshire, the conversation was lively. The six of them were speculating, cutting each other off, taking it almost as much to heart as if they had worked on the campaign. Sam strongly suspected that the others would have loved to be asked, no matter what their feelings for Hoynes were.
Ainsley had come to sit with him, not bothering to hide her smirk as Hoynes lost California.
Sam finally decided to hang up, telling the others that he had speeches to go over and a republican wife who was enjoying their conversation way too much for his taste.
"I'm sorry," he told her afterwards. "I keep forgetting that we're not, you know, on the same side on this."
She looked at him in the dangerous way he had come to recognize over the years. "Not on the same side?" she asked softly.
Ouch. Soft Ainsley was never a good sign.
"I meant that, well, you're a republican, and I'm not, so..."
"So, you still assume that I'm faithful to the party line, no matter what?" she asked.
"Well - "
"I voted for Hoynes," she said, and he gulped.
"Why?"
"Why? Because Ritchie is an idiot and I don't want him as the leader of my country anymore. Sam, the economy hadn't been as bad as it is right now for a decade, and there's conservative, and then there's conservative, you know? Just because he's a republican doesn't mean I'll vote automatically for him. I like what Hoynes is trying to do. That's all there is to it."
"Okay. I just..." He sat down. "We've known each other for so long now, that I sometimes forget that we started out as enemies."
"Ferocious ones," she agreed seriously, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, now you're just mocking me."
"Sam, you've come to see my way on some issues, and I can't tell you how glad I was when you agreed with me on some of them, and I've come to think like you on some issues. Does it always have to be about partisanship? Can't we... aren't there times when both our parties are right, and you just happen to agree with one of them and not the other?" She paused to take a breath, and her tone softened. "You're the one who taught me that, in case you've forgotten. You're the one who accepted to debate with me, to not dismiss my opinions because they didn't match yours."
"I guess so," he admitted. "But there are issues we'll never agree on."
"Yeah. Like every couple."
"I had actually considered that," he said.
She mock applauded him. "What a great thinker you are," she laughed.
"Okay, now you're just mocking me," he repeated, and she laughed harder.
"You're just tired, honey," she said. "You'd never have started that conversation otherwise."
"Yeah."
"Because you've known all that for a long time," she finished, leaning in to kiss him.
They were still kissing when the presidential election was called for Hoynes and the phone rang, asking for Sam to go back to the headquarters, as the results were about to be announced.
**********
2014
"So where are we?" Donna asked, coming back from the shore and throwing herself on the sand, ignoring the glare Toby shot her when sand flied on his legal pad.
"Toby is trying to convince Sam to fire his speechwriting staff," CJ sighed.
"Oh God."
"Indeed."
"They're good," Sam insisted.
"They're young," Toby answered, in the same tone.
"Well, so were we once, you grumpy old schmutz," Sam growled.
The campaign would be a long one, he thought, especially if he had to keep his staff safe from Toby's wrath.
"Grumpy old schmutz?"
"That's what I said," Sam answered.
"You've been hanging around with CJ a little too much... Robin."
He grimaced at this nickname. "That's Governor to you, Bruce," he answered. He had been trying to sound terse, but it came out as petulant.
Great, just the image of professionalism he wanted to give...
"Men," Donna muttered.
Sam shrugged, and gave up when he saw CJ and Ainsley laughing softly.
"Whatever," he said, trying to derail the conversation before he lost all dignity - hoping it wasn't too late. "What now?"