W.W. –Friday afternoon
"Josh… uh… Josh Lyman," a groggy voice finally answered.
"Donna? It's C.J.," said the press secretary, as she watched her goldfish, Gail, swimming in lazy arcs in the bowl at the edge of her desk. "Hello, Donna?"
There were muffled sounds at the end of the line, and then Josh came on, sounding at least as out of it as Donna had.
"Josh Lyman," he stated with the precision of overcompensation.
"Josh, it's C.J. I take it you've seen the Post?" She figured there must be a very emotional scene going on down in Florida right now. She was a little worried about how Josh and Donna were taking the rapid escalation of the biopic story.
"Uh, sure. It's here somewhere. Donna, where's the Post." This was followed by an intelligible response, and Josh's sotto voce reply escaped C.J. The giggles that followed were inescapable, however.
"Joshua Lyman!" C.J. barked into the phone. "Are you giggling? I hear giggling."
"No! Um, no. (stop that!) I, uh, was looking for the Post. I mean the paper." More giggling.
"Oh, God. Josh, stop leering and pay attention."
"How did you know I was leering?" He sounded offended.
"I didn't till just now," raged C.J. "Need I point out that you are amazingly stupid?"
"No, that point has been pretty much beaten to death. Is there something particular I'm being stupid about now? Just for my reference."
"The Post has a bullet headline, about you and Donna." C.J. sighed. "It was supposed to be a few puff pieces about the biopic, and a quick 'The White House does not comment on the personal lives of its staff.' Then you had to go and get hormonal and ruin all my careful spin."
"But C.J., unless the Post has a source under our bed, there isn't anything for them to report. Or there wasn't till this morning anyway."
"Someone saw you giving her flowers in the airport, Josh. What were you… Wait. 'Our bed'? Good God, Josh! Do you even hear yourself? Don't answer any questions about anything, and refer everything to my office. I'll call you back when I know more."
"You got it, C.J., mi amore." He sounded unruffled. "I have to talk to Leo this morning. You want me to tell him anything?"
"This morning? Josh, it's after 2:00 in the afternoon. Get out of bed and get your head screwed on straight. Oh," she took a deep breath, and shouted at the phone, "And get some damned pants on!"
She hung up. She rested her head on her desk briefly.
"Poor Donna. Well, lucky girl, but still, poor Donna."
She sat up. "Carol? Get me Ed and Larry, and tell Margaret I'm going to need Leo as soon as he's back from the OMB meeting."
W.W.
"So you're sure you want to do this?" Leo was cradling the phone in one hand. In the other, he held a photo taken at one of the inaugural balls, with Leo surrounded by the senior staff. He'd had it sent up from Media. Sam Seaborne, Toby Ziegler, and C.J. Craig stood to one side. Josh Lyman was on the other, laughing, with his arm around the shoulders of a blushing Donna Moss. They all looked so damned young.
He'd taken Josh's call during his budget meeting, but pretty quickly it became apparent he needed to take this call in his office. He'd listened to his DCOS stammer his way through an explanation. He was already feeling the bittersweet musings that come when saying goodbye to a friend, a trusted member of the team. Sad for the ending, but at the same time, he was happy that Josh had finally started to get some things straight with Donna. She was a good kid. Hell, they were both good kids. Maybe it would work out.
"I understand. Yeah, I have your faxes right here. C.J.'s on her way over, I'll talk to her about it when she gets here. Nah, the President will talk to you when you get back, but we'll get it done. I think your idea for a replacement is going to make or break the deal."
"Oh, and Josh… does your mom really have a new boyfriend?" He laughed at the sputtering coming from the other end of his phone.
"Take care, Josh. See you Monday."
He hung up the phone.
"Margaret? Send in C.J., and tell me if you see Toby lurking around out there too, we might as well make it a quorum."
Margaret came in, but she waved off C.J. with a quick gesture. "Just a moment C.J., please." She closed the door and stood looking at Leo.
"Yes? Did you want something Margaret, or is this a moment of quiet reflection in lieu of prayer?"
Her eyes got very big and she spoke rapidly. "We, that is, the other assistants, we were just wanting you to know that we understand that whatever happens with the TV thing, we understand, I mean, we understand if you feel you need to clarify policies or whatever. But before you go cracking down you ought to know that Donna has always been very professional."
"That's a comfort to me, but I don't recall appointing you Hall Monitor," he said, treating her to a moderately sour look. "Was that all?"
"Well, yeah." She went to open the door, "Except, well, if anyone gets fired, it better not be Donna."
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you threatening me, Margaret?"
"I'm just saying, we know where all the toner is, and how the coffee re-order forms need to be filled out. Bonnie knows Donna's filing system, and Carol has the emergency key to my cabinet. Ginger knows where those really good muffins you like come from. I'm just saying."
"Margaret- Out! C.J., Toby- In!" He shouted, trying hard not to smile.
They were all good kids, really.
"Leo, I've spoken to our problem child, and I think we can-" C.J. started before he waved her off.
"C.J., Toby, we need to draft two releases, one for the afternoon briefing, another for tonight just before C.J. puts the lid on." He saw he had their attention.
"For immediate release, Miss Donnatella Moss, formerly Special Assistant to the DCOS, has been named to head the Presidential Council on International NGO Liaison Activities. Details will be available in a briefing from State on Monday. The President and the White House thank Miss Moss for her service and wish her the best in her new position."
It took a moment to sink in. Toby looked at Leo, then at C.J. He spoke first, softly.
"This position, it is outside the White House?"
"It is. Funded by a trust set up by several bipartisan groups, it's a university endowment that serves to advise the President, not to make policy." Leo waited for the comment,
"Josh will be… difficult." He looked sad, and was rubbing his scalp over his right eye with his thumb in an often-imitated gesture.
"There were two announcements." C.J. was looking thoughtful.
"Yeah. We're going to need a new DCOS. I have on my desk here a letter of resignation from our Deputy Chief of Staff. The President is going to accept it formally on Monday."
"Leo, you can't…" Toby's mouth worked silently for a moment. "What don't I know about? You know something."
C.J. started grinning. Leo caught it and threw her a wink, which made Toby even more agitated. "Come on, Leo, what's… oh. Oh."
Toby looked at C.J. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she affirmed.
"About time," Toby said gruffly. "Maybe we can get a new Deputy who isn't so distracted by his Special Assistant?"
"And vice versa," C.J. pointed out.
"And vice versa, yes." Toby inhaled sharply and moved on. "Now, can we do some, you know, governing, today, maybe?"
"I doubt it very much," Leo said. "Start rounding up the Senior Assistants. If this gets out before we can bring them on board, it's going to make a gossip piece in the Post look like just the first shot."
They took off for the bullpen and the communications offices, Toby already jotting notes in one of the half dozen notebooks he routinely carried. C.J. was picking the best reporters to leak the story, to maximize the positive spin. Steve had always had a soft touch, she thought. He'd know how to run with this.
"Margaret!" Leo's call caught his assistant going through her purse looking for some mints, and she shot up from her desk like he'd goosed her behind. She hurried in, smoothing her sweater and trying to look calm.
"Yes?"
"Close the door." He looked awfully stern, even for Leo.
"Yes, sir? You know about before, I didn't meant to imply any kind of… of strike or anything." She was really wishing she'd found a mint. Her mouth was very dry.
"Relax, Norma Rae." He leaned back in his chair, and grinned. It was his Grinch-carving-the-Roast-Beast grin. "I thought you might enjoy being the first Senor Assistant to hear some good news, for a change."
