W.W.- late Monday evening
Josh was sitting at his desk, illuminated only by the desk lamp. The bullpen was not deserted but it was certainly quiet.
Donna's desk was empty, but she didn't need to actually be in the room anymore to command his complete attention. She had been in for the day but he had sent her home, told her to call her folks and relax for the evening. The stress had been bad enough on him, he couldn't bear to see it on her too.
He supposed he should be reflecting on his White House career, on his years in Washington. In a few minutes, he was going to formally offer to resign as President Josiah Bartlet's Deputy Chief of Staff, and then it was just a matter of running the transition to the next guy.
Still, it was hard to stay focused on that meeting. His mind was darting back and forth from the immediate past to the uncertain future. Why was Donna mad at him? Certainly, she had reason to be pissed at him, daily, but he couldn't think what he'd done this time.
Contrary to popular conjecture, Josh Lyman was not without awareness of the way he treated people, especially women, especially women he cared about. Usually, however, there was a pretty significant buffer of Don't-Give-a-Damn so he often screwed things up without really paying attention. That had happened before with him and Donna, but this time he had been paying attention, he had been thinking about what he was doing and saying.
Maybe he should call her? No, better not. Not from the office. If she thought for a moment he was calling her in to work there'd be hell to pay, and these days it was a personal, private hell she could subject him to. He realized he had the phone in his hand, and gently put it back on the cradle.
"So are you going to sit there in the dark, or are you going to come on and quit your job?"
Leo's voice startled him, and he sat up suddenly. Leo was standing in the doorway, and Josh had no idea how long he had been there.
"Sorry."
Leo grinned and shrugged. "Don't worry about it. You ready to go do this?"
"How should I know?" Josh stood up. "I've never… I always thought that I'd be here till the end. I thought I'd be the last man into the boats, you know?"
"Yeah. Let me ask you something Josh, not as your boss, just, I don't know, as a friend of your father. Do you love this girl as much as we all think you do?"
"She's the real thing, Leo."
"I figured. You're going to be good to her." It wasn't a question. "God knows why, but she obviously loves you. Don't screw this up."
"I don't…" Josh started, combative instincts rising. He took a breath. "Yeah. That would be bad."
They started walking towards the oval office.
"So, how's your mom?" Leo and Ruth went back a long time, and he had been a little worried about her alone down in Florida. Despite his affection for Josh's father, Leo knew it was good she'd found someone.
"She's good." Josh thought about the look on her face when she had kissed him goodbye. "She seems happy."
"Your father was a good man, Josh. He was bigger than life. It can be hard to move on, so don't give her any grief, you hear me?" Leo had a more or less friendly hand on Josh's shoulder when he said this.
"No, sir." Josh grinned. "She's going to be pretty mad at me for not calling back yesterday, though."
They had arrived at the Oval Office. Nancy was at the desk this evening, and she nodded them through. Leo buttoned his jacket as he always did before entering the office of the President. He shot a look at Josh.
"Why should you have called yesterday?" Leo knocked once lightly on the door and held it open for Josh.
"I guess because I asked Donna to marry me, yesterday morning on the train back to DC." Josh walked past a speechless Leo into the Oval Office.
W.W.
Margaret was sitting at her desk. Her phones were shut down and she was already in her coat, but she had not finished locking up her desk. She kept opening a notepad, staring at the blank page for a few minutes, and then closing it. This had been going on for a while.
What the hell was Leo doing back at his house? No, back at his ex-wife's house? Was she unhappy in her new marriage? Were they trying to work things out? Mrs. McGarry had seemed pretty happy last Margaret had seen her. If Leo was divorced, he should stay out of her life, and her house. It wasn't like Leo to screw around with this kind of thing. She got her notebook out again and stared at it, then went to put it away.
Her pager went off, and after checking the number, she made a call.
"Yes, this is Margaret, you paged me… He said what? I understand. Thank you."
She hung up the phone, and rose from her chair. Shrugging her coat off, she opened a file cabinet and took out a white folder, with a red band around the edge. She didn't have to familiarize herself with the contents. She took the top sheet out, and began following a protocol that had been carefully and scientifically planned by some of the finest minds in Washington.
W.W.
In a cinema in Georgetown, a strikingly attractive woman had her first decent date in moths interrupted by the vibrating of her pager. With an embarrassed grimace, she whispered to her companion.
"Excuse me, that's mine." She turned it off. "I'm sorry, it's work. I need to make a call and then I'll be right back."
"Hey Bonnie, if we need to go…?" He knew how hard it could be to make time around government schedules. Her fingertips on his lips silenced him.
"Hush, don't worry," she told him. She leaned in to kiss him briefly, their first kiss, but very nice. "You, don't go anywhere. I'll be right back." She looked at the number on her pager. "Or no, no I won't. Damn! Call me? Please? Sorry!"
She hurried out of the theater and into the hall, already hitting speed dial.
W.W.
"Ma?" shouted the redhead through the bathroom door. "I'm taking my pantyhose off. I said I'd be right out."
"Ginger," her mother shouted back, "Your pager's going off!"
"What?"
"Your pager! Should I check it?"
"Ma!" Ginger shouted, sliding her pantyhose down. She hated changing at her mother's after work, but she hadn't had time to run home before visiting. "I can't hear you! Be right out!"
Her mother had come down the hall and was now holding the pager, trying to read the screen in the hallway light outside the bathroom door.
"Ginger? All it says is '208.' Does that mean something to you?"
The door flew open. Ginger was standing with her panty hose around her ankles and her work dress still on but unzipped all the way down the back.
"208? It says 208?" She was flushed.
"That's what I've been saying. Are you all right, Cookie?"
Ginger held the pager in both hands. Her mother hadn't seen that mixture of shock, awe and fear on a woman's face since her Jacqueline had done one of those home pregnancy kits to 'prove she wasn't pregnant.' Ginger looked up.
"I need my cell phone." She took one step, promptly tangled her feet in her pantyhose, and went down like puppet with her strings cut. "Ouch?"
"I'll get your phone, honey," her mother told her, looking at her daughter sprawling into the hallway from the bathroom. "You just sort all that out."
W.W.
In Langley, Virginia, not too far from the front gates of the CIA, a pager went off. Inside an apartment, with the sound of a DVD playing ignored in front of them, a man and a woman were entwined on a couch.
Suddenly, the woman giggled, her dark hair falling in waves around her face. A moment later, the man pushed her back to arm's length.
"Is that your pager, Carol, or are you just really glad to be here?"
"Nate!" She gave him a saucy grin to soften the harsh bite to her voice. "It's probably nothing. Let me get it."
He rolled over, pulling her up on to his lap. He gave her a smug grin and pressed her hips to his.
"Or I could just hold you here, and hope they page again." Damn, he was adorable.
The pager began to vibrate again and she used the added leverage of her laughter to slide from his lap onto the floor. She fished her pager out of her pocket and sat up.
"What is it?" Nate sobered at her expression. "Something wrong?"
"I can't believe it." She turned to him "Nate, I'm sorry. I have to call my boss right away."
"Sure," he told her. "The movie will wait… are you okay?"
"Yes. I just have to call C.J. I'm so sorry." She was up and looking for her shoes.
"At this rate, it's going to be six dates before we make it through 'Kate & Leopold.' Not that I'm complaining." He handed her the missing shoe, which he had rolled over on.
"You are so… Mmm! Damn, I have to leave." She was at the door, hopping as she got her other shoe on. "Hold that thought… and see you… well. Hold that thought?"
"Sure!" he told the door as it closed. He ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair. "Sure."
W.W.
Donna looked at the clock. It was only 10:30, but it seemed much later. She had fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by packages and paperwork. Her eyes felt gummy, and her mouth was so dry her tongue kept sticking to her teeth. Some idiot was pushing her doorbell. She had taken all her laundry down to the little launderette, only to discover that she had no clean panties to change into whatsoever till her first load was dried. She'd have to venture out to the laundry later or 'go commando' tomorrow.
She got up feeling like her clothes had shrunk onto her while she napped on the couch. The elastic of her pajamas had left an angry red itching line across her lower back. Some idiot was pushing her doorbell. She stole her roommate's last bottle of water and looked at her empty fridge. Add groceries to the list of must-emerge-from-the-apartment tasks tonight or tomorrow.
Her mouth, no longer sticky dry, was now feeling very marinated in an unpleasant way. Some idiot was pushing her doorbell. She must have slept with her mouth open while…
Oh. Doorbell.
She hit the speaker panel. "Hello? What?"
"Donna? It's me. Can I come up?"
She groaned. She just wanted to be alone, and maybe take a long shower. What happened to sensitive romantic doing things right Josh? She guessed they really were back in Washington, vacation over.
"I was sleeping. Can't I see you tomorrow?"
"I just had my meeting with the President." He wasn't whining. Oh. Oops.
She buzzed him in.
W.W.
"Jed? Are you all right?" After all the years, after everything that had happened, her voice still caught his attention every time. He could not have tuned her out if he'd tried.
"I'm fine, Abbey," he called back to her, pulling off his tie. He'd missed the early dinner he'd hoped for and was hoping to settle for a few cocktails and maybe some casual conversation with his wife.
He came in to the room, and saw her, feet tucked under her, reading on the sofa. Her hair was down and her shoes were off and in the warm spot of reading light on the sofa she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever imagined. He stopped to look at her.
"What is it Jed? Are you upset about Josh leaving?" She was looking at him over her reading glasses. She really had amazing eyes. He ought to tell her that more often.
"He said something tonight, something that didn't seem like…" He lost his train of thought as he moved to sit next to her. "He surprised me tonight, Abbey, in a way I didn't expect."
"Which would be, I believe the definition of a surprise." She smiled at him and reached a hand out to pat his knee.
He caught her hand in his, and looked at her with all of his attention, with the way he had, that most great politicians have, of making her feel like she was the only person in the world to him at that moment. He held her hand and told her softly, "He asked that little girl to marry him yesterday. Right on the train. Can you believe that?"
He continued to search her face, finding in every feature, and every line, comfort and beauty and love. "Amid all the changes he knows are coming for them, he wanted her to have his ring, to have his name, to covenant with her before God… And Leo and I just stood there, as proud as any father. I wanted to tell you, and I wanted to tell you that I love you, Abigail Ann Bartlet."
"Well, Jethro," she said somewhat breathlessly, "with men like you and Josh in the world, I'm not convinced we need a Protection of Marriage Act." She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead.
"So," she said with a slight blush, "who do Leo and Josh want to look at as his replacement?"
W.W.
"I'm sorry. I know you wanted some time alone."
He looked better than Donna had expected, considering. She knew it was going to be tough for her to tell everyone she was leaving. She could barely imagine what it had taken for Josh to leave.
"It's okay, Josh. It's just been a rough day and I'm sorry I didn't feel up to another night of wooing just yet." She hugged him. "Still, I'm glad you came."
"I didn't want wooing. I brought no woo," he said softly into her shoulder. He pulled back and looked at her, then looked down. "I just wanted to be with you, you know, to be with you."
"You just wanted to be with me, even though I'm tired, and cranky? Emotional and possibly hormonal and generally suffering through vaporish fits of femaleness?" She teased him but she also meant it. Josh had a delicate system. She'd seen him turn pale and sweaty just from the word "tampon." While she was waffling on the merits of jump-starting a new family might not be the best time to test his endurance.
"We're going to be really busy for a while. And I know you'll have a lot more travel when you start your new job. I don't see why we should be apart any more than we have to."
She blinked. "You're serious."
He ran his hand through his hair, which left it standing more or less straight out to the side. "Well, yeah. I mean, I can understand needing some time. There's been a lot to digest. Would you rather be alone tonight? I'll understand."
"Well, I need to shower, and I have to go get some panties." She was amazed. He barely leered- he must be tired. "You didn't eat dinner either, did you? Why don't I get us some takeout while I'm out?"
"We could do that. Or, if you want, write down whatever, um, whatever kind of under things it is you need, and I'll go by the megamart. They have that kind of stuff, right? You take a bath, relax, and then we'll eat. We can get your cleaning tomorrow."
She stared at him. "Who are you? What have you done with my boss?"
He grinned, a tired grin, but an honest one. "I replaced him with your fiancé. Cute trick, huh?"
"Very. Let me get you a list of what I'll need. I'll shower- you shop. We'll take some clothes and head over to your place." She nodded towards her bedroom and the stack of unopened, opened and emptied cartons and folders massed around her bed.
He considered a moment. "I like your plan. You are in charge of plans. I can be in charge of, uh, team morale. Okay, make a list, and make it very specific. If I don't see what you want, I'm sure as hell not asking for help."
"Fair enough. Hey? Morale officer? Love you." She started making her list.
"Damned straight," he told her. "Oh, you still haven't guessed who Leo and I want to interview for my position." He had a broad and evil grin, obviously fishing, and she tried to ignore him till her list was done.
