TITLE: A Private Wake
AUTHOR: Classic She
PAIRING: Josh & Amy - Friendship
RATING: G
SPOILERS: Season Four - "Twenty-Five"
SUMMARY: From Webster's Ninth Collegiate Dictionary : wake - archaic to stand watch over (esp. a dead body)
DISCLAIMERS: The usual. The characters are not mine. Never were. Never will be. They just tell me things and I spread the gossip.


The Acting President's first directive to me was to staff the former President in the Residence. The dismissive tone of his voice was a clear indication to me that the handwriting is on the wall. I've been banished. He needs the others, Leo, C.J., Toby, Will; at least for the time being. He has no use for me.

An order is an order, so I sent Donna home and took up my position on a sofa in the Residence after checking with President Bartlet's doctor. The former President has been heavily sedated and will be out for several hours. So, as Washington sinks into a cesspool of uncertainty and the world totters on the brink of war, I get to babysit. I can feel my career crash and burn.

A flurry of activity raises me to my feet, the First Lady - former First Lady - and her entourage enter the room. Amy and C.J. are practically carrying the slumped First Lady between them. I hurry to help and C.J. hands her off to me as she gives me a curt nod, then scurries off to handle the press.

Amy and I gently guide her to the bed, where she blankly glances at her sleeping husband. I have never seen her so out of it. We seat her on the edge of the bed, and I support her in an upright position while Amy darts off to find a change of clothing. I then leave Amy and the Doctor to change the First Lady and administer the sedative.

Soon Amy collapses onto the sofa next to me. I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. It has been a long, exhausting day.

"Do you think she's alive?" She asks me.

"No, I don't think we'll get her back alive. And that will be the death of Bartlet for America. Even if we do get her back safely, it is over. Jed's lost it, he won't come back." I am the voice of gloom.

Amy nods in agreement with my assessment, she is politically astute.

"It's over Amy, for you and I. We are finished at the White House. Everyone is just too busy to fire us."

Amy sighed with resignation. I patted her hand reassuringly.

"Well, I guess I'll fall on the sword. I'll tender my resignation so I can go out with dignity."

"No." I respond.

She looks at me questioningly.

"We need to wait until this is over. We are going to be the two in charge of getting the Bartlets back to New Hampshire."

She nodded in agreement.

"Then what will we do Amy?"

She chuckled. "You know, I'm on a first name basis with all of the employees at the unemployment office. I'll show you the ropes."

I remember that's what I love most about Amy, her warped sense of humor rivals my own.

"Well, I've got a law license I've never really used. I could take it out, polish it up and start practicing."

Amy replied, scathingly, "What - Scandals-R-Us?"

I groaned at her wit. "You're too funny. Maybe campaign consulting."

"For whom? There are no liberal Democrats left, we are the last of a dying breed."

This woman could be my clone - we think alike. "Yeah, you're right." And I sighed.

She grasped my hand tighter, and pulled it a little, causing me to look at her face.

"Teaching? Running the Bartlet library? Josh, maybe you need a change."

Her face radiated concern. For me?

"Exile in New Hampshire? No thanks."

She responded with an off-the-wall observation, "I feel like I'm in a tv drama that just jumped the shark."

Wicked. I love her because she is so perverted.

We silently sat, tacitly contemplating our future, listening to the grandfather clock slowly mark time as the world careens about without us.

Amy got up and checked on the former First Couple. When she returned, she recommenced our conversation, albeit on a different track.

"Donna loves you."

I turned towards her, expecting a smirk. I was surprised by her solicitude.

"How do you know?"

"I asked her point blank today, and she wouldn't answer me verbally. Her body language sufficed. She loves you."

I sighed. I knew I would have to face this at some point in time. My world is truly falling apart tonight.

"Yeah, I'm not as oblivious as everyone thinks I am. I've known that for years."

Amy didn't seem at all surprised by my answer. She is very astute in all matters, not just politics.

"So, do you love her? Don't avoid the question. Don't tell me she's your assistant, cause we both know that excuse is almost gone."

Amy had gone straight for my jugular, she would be a great prosecutor.

"Well, I do. And I don't know how to handle it. I love her, but not that way; not the way she loves me. If I did, I would have gotten around the assistant thing. I am the master strategist you know."

She punched my shoulder and rolled her eyes at my bluster

We lapsed to our taciturn sentry duty, listening to the grandfather clock solemnly mark the ebbing presidential power of our charges.

I pondered my future. I saw the glimmer of a silver lining within the omnipresent hurricane swirling around us and decided to take a chance. I knew how to right our little corner of the world.

"Lyman & Gardner" I conjectured.

"Gardner & Lyman - alphabetically" She countered.

"Gardner & Lyman, LLP" I concluded.

"After New Hampshire?"

I nodded and we grinned at each other.