AUTHOR'S NOTE: The last chapter was for Birdie, who wanted to see a fight between Josh and Donna. Yes, there needs to be further development and yes, I am going to follow up with Colin… It's all in the works.

PHOTOGRAPHS (5)

Night had fallen heavily upon the city and Josh found himself in the car, driving aimlessly, pondering the events of the day. He had argued with C.J., called Donna a whore, and basically screwed up his entire life, both professionally and personally in the course of a couple of hours.

Way to go, Lyman, he thought. Now you just need to get fired, or better yet, shot again, and everything will be just craptaculous.

He pulled the car over and parked it on a side street. Picking up his phone, he dialed a very familiar number in California. Sam may not have come back to Washington, but that didn't mean his friends in Washington had forgotten him.

In the years since Sam Seaborn had left the West Wing, Josh had often called him to get his ideas on various events. Josh had called him from the hospital in Germany when Donna had finally emerged from surgery for the pulmonary embolism, his friend celebrating with him, never questioning why Josh had flown half-way around the world to sit by the bedside of his assistant.

Josh had described to Sam his conversation with C.J. – leaving his argument with Donna out of the picture - hoping that Sam, in that manly way men have with one another when discussing relationships, would agree with him that C.J. had overstepped her bounds and Donna had been stupid to take up with Colin. He was shocked when Sam agreed with C.J. that Josh was holding Donna back.

"You never let her date."

"I do so let her date – she dates all the time."

"Yeah, and you manage to either call her back into work, or harass her so much while she's out on the date that the guy wants nothing to do with her because her boss is a domineering bully."

"That's not…"

"You two have keys to one another's houses, Josh. How many bosses and assistants have that?"

"Sam," Josh chuckled, "she took care of my after Rosslyn. She needed a key. And I watered the plants at her place when she went to see her parents that time, so I needed a key to her place."

"You both still have the keys," Sam insisted, "and use them. You go over to her place all the time, Josh. Sometimes I think you are there more than you are at your own…"

"She's recuperating! She needs help!"

"Josh – she's not on crutches anymore. She can get around on her own. And besides – this all started long before Gaza. Stop being stupid. C.J. was right. Donna wouldn't have left you on her own and you are too blind to do anything."

"What are you saying?"

"What I am saying is that maybe she took up with this photographer because she is tired of waiting for you. You may be obsessed with your job, buddy, but she's not –she's got a future to think about. You've got your head up your ass, Josh, and if you don't remove it soon, you're going to wake up one day and she's going to be gone. Didn't you learn anything from all of this?"

Josh was silent, mulling Sam's words over in his mind.

"Look, Josh. Think about it. I mean really think about it. How would you feel if she left? I don't mean professionally either. How would you feel if she wasn't in your life at all? ... Answer that and I think you'll find you need to go back and talk to her."

Sam said his goodbyes and hung up, leaving Josh holding the phone and looking at it in total confusion.

As he was driving, Josh tried to sort out the emotions in his head, feeling that somewhere in the last 12 hours he had become horribly lost. After parking the car and climbing up the stairs to his apartment, he knew he needed to sit and think. Grabbing the Jack Daniels from the cabinet and a glass from the drainboard, he threw himself onto the sofa, poured himself a significant amount of bourbon and threw it back.

Damn my 'sensitive system,' he thought, I'm going to get drunk.

He poured himself another drink and sipped it this time, wanting to get something productive done with his evening before he passed out cold.

How would you feel if she wasn't in your life at all?

Sam's words echoed in Josh's mind bringing up fears he thought he had put to rest when Donna returned from Germany. Sitting there in his living room, he was suddenly returned to her bedside in Landstuhl, waiting for her to regain consciousness after surgery, the doctor's warning that she might have brain damage ringing in his ears.

Never in his life had Josh Lyman been so afraid. When Joanie and his father died, they had been taken suddenly. He had never had time to think about the future without them – just the realization, suddenly, that they were no longer there. With Donna, he had hour after agonizing hour of bargaining with God to save her, of pondering the next day without her, and of being terrified of being alone.

When she opened her eyes and spoke his name, there in the gathering dusk of the hospital room, he thought it was a dream. He couldn't move until she said it two more times, each a little more desperate than the last. Tears had gathered in his eyes when he realized that she was awake and aware, and possibly, just possibly, going to be alright. He couldn't remember another time in his life when he had felt so happy and relieved and thankful to hear his name come from another person's lips. He thanked whatever higher being had restored her to him and promised to uphold his end of every deal he had cut in previous hours to keep her alive.

Since Donna's return from Germany, Josh had pushed all of these thoughts into the back of his mind, burying them with his fears over her discontent with her job, his jealousy over Colin, and his growing concern over the situation at the White House. Sam and C.J. were right… he couldn't deny it… he had held onto Donna because he didn't want her to leave. Not professionally and not, as he had begun to realize, personally either.

Colin told me not to take her for granted.

Josh looked down into the bottom of his glass, deciding that he liked Jack Daniels after all. Realizing that he was getting slightly buzzed and was enjoying the feeling, he poured himself another drink and thought of his argument with Donna.

Suddenly, the phone at his elbow rang, causing him to jump six inches out of his seat. Cursing modern technology under his breath, he picked it up.

"Y'ello…"

"Josh?" the woman on the other end replied, "Are you drinking?"

C.J. had an uncanny knack of knowing when any kind of alcohol entered Josh's system. He referred to it as her own personal superhero power.

"Claudia Jean, you are a mutant. How do you do that?"

"It's my job in life, mi amour. Why are you drinking? And what are you drinking?"

"I'm partaking of my new friend, Jack. And I had a fight with Donna."

"Josh…"

"C.J., I really don't want to talk about it right now. Hence the drinking," he replied, swirling the bourbon around in the glass and wondering if ice would make it go down quicker.

"Josh, about earlier…"

"God. Please. C.J., I'm begging. Don't. Now is so definitely not the time for this…"

"Ok… Well, I have some news for you. That's really why I called."

"News? Like what kind of news?" he got up and walked to the kitchen intent on raiding the ice maker.

There was a moment of silence.

"Colin Ayers is in New York. He's trying to sell the photographs to Newsweek."

At that, Josh took the glass he held in his hand, surveyed it, and then threw it against the kitchen wall.

"What the hell was that?!" C.J. shouted into the phone – loud enough that Josh winced and had to hold the phone away from his ear.

"That was one of my glasses hitting my kitchen wall," he replied quietly, watching the remainder of the bourbon puddle on the floor below the point of impact and then rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

"Josh…"

"C.J…. He's in New York? How did you find this out?"

"Josh, I'm the former Press Secretary for the White House. I have connections. He's pitching the pictures to Colleen Buchanan tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. However, I have just made a deal with Colleen that will ensure that Newsweek will not buy the shots."

"You made a deal with Newsweek?" he asked incredulously, "What kind of deal?"

C.J. was quiet for a minute, "They will pass on the photographs in return for an interview with a senior staffer about the peace talks and the bombing."

Josh sucked in his breath and tried to calm himself – he was standing in the doorway to the kitchen with his back against the wall, mentally counting to 1000, one…two…three…

"Who, C.J.?"

She waited a beat and responded, "Leo."

"No, C.J.! We can't bring Leo into this! He's been through too much and he's too sick!" Josh was yelling now, running his hand through his hair and contemplating how much more bourbon he would have to drink to get through this night.

"Josh, there is no negotiation here. I talked it over with Leo before I even called Colleen. I had to have something to offer and he is the only one in a position to talk right now. Plus, this would be his first interview since leaving office and it was a good bargaining chip. Those photographs are worth a great deal out in the news market, Josh. You know that. We had to have something worthwhile to give them. Besides, Leo wants to protect Donna as much as the rest of us."

C.J. heard Josh's shallow breathing on the other end of the line and couldn't tell if he was so frustrated he could barely breathe or so upset he was crying. Either way, she had to tell him the rest of her news.

"Josh, I had Margaret book you on a shuttle flight to New York leaving tomorrow morning at 6:00. Colin's appointment with Colleen is at 9:00. Go to the Newsweek offices and ask for Colleen before 9:00, Josh. Just remember, do nothing that will get you in the paper. Do you understand me?"

It suddenly dawned on him what C.J. had done. She had made arrangements for him to meet with Colin – Newsweek would turn down the pictures, but that didn't mean that Time or any of the other national rags would do the same. There were only so many favors the White House could call in on this one. The rest would be up to Josh.

"Yeah. I understand. The 6:00 shuttle."

"Yes. The tickets will be waiting for you at the counter. And, Josh?"

"Yeah?" he mumbled, looking at the broken glass and bourbon and wondering why he hadn't just come home and gone to bed.

"When you get back, go talk to Donna and make it right."

With that, C.J. hung up the phone, leaving Josh to wonder, again, exactly what had happened to his life in the last twelve hours.

(To be continued.)