II

She missed him. She knew she'd made the right decision, but... she already missed him.

Andy had never been a great one for sentiment. She knew Toby had still worn his wedding ring months after the divorce had gone through, but hers had gone straight in the dresser drawer. It made her feel foolish to sit and look at it, like some drippy heroine in a romantic movie.

She withdrew it now, however, and rolled it thoughtfully around her palm. Missed chances, and battered dreams...

How like Toby, to propose again just when she'd decided to break it off with him. It was almost symbolic of the whole messy business; he'd always had that stubborn, dogged refusal to face up to reality. He refused to accept the pattern of defeat after defeat after defeat as a reason not to try again.

She supposed that was how he'd ended up staying in politics, and eventually wormed his way onto the Bartlet campaign - a ticket to nowhere that everyone was shocked to see suddenly make it. If he'd had the damn sense to give up after the half dozenth time it all went to hell, he'd never have seen the inside of the White House at all.

So maybe that made him more tenacious than her, or stronger, or something. She didn't know. She just knew she was tired of working so damn hard to go exactly nowhere. Maybe to Toby that was old news, but she just couldn't live like that anymore. She didn't want to go through the same dance over and over again in the futile hope that maybe this time it would have a different ending.

She knew breaking free of the cycle was the only smart move to make.

She just wished she didn't miss him quite so much.

CJ could feel something brewing the moment she stepped into senior staff. Leo was unreadable but obviously tense; Josh looked pale and anxious. Toby appeared to be brooding about something, but really, that could be anything. Sam was clearly as clueless as she was; they shared a troubled, puzzled glance.

What's going on?

She just prayed it wasn't anything to do with the president's health.

Sam stole the question from her lips. "Leo, how's the president?" he asked nervously.

Leo seemed preoccupied. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. He's still pretty under the weather, but it's not serious. Just a cold," he nodded.

The tension level ratcheted down several notches, but she noticed Josh didn't look any more relieved. Whatever was going on didn't appear to be about the president... but it was obviously serious.

Whatever it was, however, Leo didn't volunteer any information. He fixed her with his usual firm gaze. "Anything to report?"

"The Swedish Ambassador's kicking up a fuss about something," she answered automatically. "Unfortunately, since he was heavily drunk when he called the White House to complain about it, we're either going to have to wait until he sobers up, or find an interpreter who specialises in abusive drunken Swedish."

"You're handling it?" Leo asked tersely.

"I am," Sam volunteered. For which CJ was exceedingly grateful. There were three main classes of ambassador: polished and highly qualified diplomats, good-natured but ineffectual schmoozers, and those who were so horrendously embarrassing they'd either been appointed simply to get them the hell out of their home government, or as a devious act of retribution against their destination. Some, like Lord Marbury, managed the fairly clever trick of appearing to be in all three groups at once. The current Swedish Ambassador, however, fell firmly into the third category.

"You'll sort it out?" Leo transferred his gaze to the Deputy Communications Director.

"It's all bluster," Sam shrugged confidently. "His government can't stand him any more than we can, they're not going to put their weight behind him for anything short of a bone fide diplomatic incident."

"Okay."

Sam glanced across at CJ, and smirked. "Oh, hey, how was your dinner date with Danny?"

She glared. "It was a business meeting!" Sam threw up his hands in surrender, without looking the slightest bit apologetic. She jerked her head at Toby. "If you want to live vicariously through other people's love lives, you'll have to lean on Pokey here."

Toby's face remained utterly impassive, and yet he somehow wordlessly projected dire threats towards anybody stupid enough to take up that suggestion.

Leo pushed up his glasses, and scowled impatiently. "Can we leave the soap opera for junior high, please? Class dismissed." He nodded at his deputy. "Josh, stay behind a minute."

CJ would very much have liked to know what their troubled expressions were about, but times like this were a sharp reminder that much as Josh might be one of the boys, the Deputy Chief of Staff got in on some loops that the rest of them were cut out of.

"Know what that's about?" Sam asked in a low voice as they left Leo's office. She shook her head. She cast around for Toby to see if he had any more of a clue than the rest of them, but he'd already disappeared off down the corridor.

Whatever it was, she just hoped it didn't mean another scandal about to come crashing down around their ears.

"Oh, come on, Shelley," Donna wheedled, phone trapped between shoulder and ear as she typed. "He's the cutest little ball of fluff you ever- Yes, I know James is allergic, but surely... Oh, well, what about Cameron? Can he take a kitten?"

She listened. "Africa? What's he doing-?" She looked up as a shadow fell over her, and straightened up abruptly as she saw who it belonged to. "Okay, thanks anyway, Shelley, I've got to go."

The First Lady smiled warmly at her as she put the phone down. "Not interrupting, am I?"

"Oh, no, no." Donna coloured. "I was just- It's not important."

"Okay." The First Lady took a seat across from her.

"Um, did you want to speak to Josh?" Donna wondered.

"No, actually, I thought you could help me with something."

"Is this about the president?" she guessed tentatively. For reasons she still wasn't entirely sure of, she'd been honoured with the huge responsibility of keeping an eye on the president's general well-being when the First Lady wasn't around to do it herself. CJ had told her it was because she was far enough removed from the mess of political manoeuvring to see him more easily as a human being... but she still didn't see why there weren't dozens of other people surely better suited to the task than her.

Mrs. Bartlet nodded. "I'm a little worried about him, to tell you the truth," she admitted.

Donna immediately felt panicked. "This cold, it isn't-?"

"No, no, it's nothing but a case of the winter sniffles," she smiled reassuringly. "Walking around in the snow without a coat, the man's a child. No, he's not seriously ill, but he's been rather down of late. All these stresses and health troubles have been piling up on him a little."

"I can imagine." Donna's heart bled for the president. He'd had to suffer through a serious scare when it seemed his MS might be worsening, and everyone knew how miserable it made him to have to watch his diet and his lifestyle to make sure it was less likely to happen again. Then - as if that wasn't enough for anybody to deal with, let alone the leader of the free world - there had been that horrible book, dredging up all the details of an unhappy childhood to be raked over by the media.

A little depressed? It was a wonder he wasn't looking for a chance to throw himself off the nearest bridge.

"What can I do?" she asked instantly.

"Well, I don't know," the First Lady mused. "I'm a little stuck for thinking of ways to cheer him up, so I thought I'd enlist a partner in crime."

Donna blushed, feeling both privileged and deeply inadequate. Really, who was she to be venturing an opinion on what might make the president feel better? Yes, she had experience handling Josh, but what knowledge came from that was probably better applied to truculent two-year-olds than depressed presidents. She was fairly sure President Bartlet would not be so easily controlled by the 'Look! Shiny!' method of boss distraction.

"You're sure I'm not interrupting your phone call?" Mrs. Bartlet asked, after a moment - probably misinterpreting Donna's moment of awkward silence.

"No, really." She tucked back a strand of hair, embarrassed. "I was just, um, making some calls while Josh is still in senior staff. I wouldn't normally," she hurried to justify herself, "but you see my roommate's cat just had kittens, and we can't keep them, and we've managed to find homes for all but one of them, and-"

The First Lady cut her off with a smile and an upraised hand. "I'm quite familiar with the kitten-homing situation, Donna. We used to have cats on the farm." She looked thoughtful. "He misses the farm, I know. He always liked having all that space and the animals around. I wish I could just give him some time off and take him there, but..." She sighed.

The president was probably the one person in the building who got even less vacation time than his own staff. Even when he was away from the White House, he had the weight of his office hanging over his head, knowing that literally any second he could be yanked away from his family to face vital life and death decisions.

Abbey pulled her chair closer to the desk, and smiled. "Anyway. Let's talk about cheering up my hangdog of a husband before he mopes his way into oblivion."

Leo looked up at his deputy as he leaned back in his chair. "You found out when he's back?"

"This afternoon." Leo nodded slowly. "You want me to-"

"No. No, I'll take this one," he decided. This was going to be a decidedly messy conversation, and Josh was never good at keeping his cool during those... especially when the other party was someone he expected better from. No, this pleasant little duty was for him alone to handle.

"Okay." Josh looked at his feet.

"You're absolutely sure of your source on this?" he asked again.

"Sure enough," Josh nodded soberly. "It ties together, Leo. If Bridges is leading McGann by the nose, it would have to be something big."

He sighed. "I just wish it wasn't this big."

Josh pulled a wry face in acknowledgement. "We're keeping this under wraps?" he asked after a moment.

"Until I get a chance to speak to him," Leo agreed. "If this is for real, they're gonna need to know, but... Let me speak to him first."

"Yeah."

There was another long pause, and Josh turned to go. He hesitated with his hand stretched towards the door, and looked back at the Chief of Staff. "Leo... how could he possibly be this stupid?"

Leo met his eyes. "People are sometimes," he said simply.

"Yeah." Josh's expression twisted bitterly. "Yeah."

He pulled open the door, and left.