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PHOTOGRAPHS (25)

Inauguration Day was two weeks away and Washington lay beneath a fresh clean blanket of winter snow. Josh had always liked these days. It was cold, yes, but the snow was pure and crystalline around the city. He liked to enjoy these days for within hours, the snow would turn to slush on every street corner and the purity of the air would turn common again.

Shifting his backpack further up on his shoulder, he trudged on through the snow. His hiking boots made a crisp sound when he walked and while he felt the cold through his jeans, it was a pleasant cold, not the bone-chilling wetness that would come later in the season.

He had been working, these past few weeks, on transitioning the campaign staff to White House staff – at least those that would be going into office with President-Elect Santos. Bram, Ned and Rhonna would be going and Cliff and Joey had accepted Matt's offers of Chief of Staff and Deputy Chief of Staff. The lineup was good – strong and young and full of people who would guide him along the right path. Josh felt confident that this group would succeed as the golden gang had succeeded under Jed Bartlet.

CJ had complained that they were poaching Cliff in the last days of their time in office, but secretly she admitted to Josh that he was a good fit for the new administration. Joey had been overwhelmed at first, but had quickly jumped in with both feet, flying around headquarters and getting a feel for all the staff that would be moving to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Josh had worked with Matt in crafting the new cabinet and getting people on board. He had also attended meetings between the Bartlet senior staff and Santos staff to assure that the transition would be smooth and effortless. Remembering his first days in the White House, he wanted to spare his colleagues the utter confusion and terror as much as possible.

The President had invited him for dinner at the Residence where he, Abby, and Leo grilled Josh about his future position with the John F. Kennedy School of Government on the Harvard campus. They reminisced about their own times on the campaign trail and ended the evening in a small group talking about their years in office. After finishing up in the office, CJ and Toby joined them and the party turned into a very lively trip down memory lane.

As he was going to leave, Josh turned to the President and said softly, "Remember, in that first campaign, when you came to the airport to see me off after my father died?"

Jed looked in his eyes and nodded, "Yes."

Struggling with tears, Josh said quietly, "Thank you."

With his free hand, Jed reached up and hugged the younger man and softly kissed him on the cheek. This was his son, had always been his son from that day in the airport terminal, and he could do no less for him than he would his own children.

Turning, Josh left the White House for the last time.

XXX

It was a long walk, he remembered now, after going what seemed like a hundred blocks. But he felt that a cab would take him there much too quickly. He needed to think about the words, phrase them in his head. Knowing his own tendency to speak without thinking, he didn't want this to be one of those times.

What do I say to her? After all this time? How do I tell her I'm finally free?

He had started to buy flowers, but remembered the moment in Germany when he walked into the empty hospital room. Since that time, bouquets of red flowers hit him in the pit of the stomach like a swift kick from an unseen enemy.

Coffee, he thought, I could bring her coffee. But that seemed too trite and simple and unexpressive. Coffee couldn't tell her all the things he wanted to tell her.

In the end, he brought nothing but himself. After all, when they met, all he had was a campaign badge. That was how they started. Now, he didn't even have that to offer her, but he hoped that wouldn't make a difference.

XXX

She had been back in town for a few weeks. He knew from Matt that she had done a whirlwind tour of the North- and Mid-West closing down their offices, cleaning up accounts, and basically tying up all the loose ends. Matt confided in Josh that he wanted Donna in his administration, but that she had pre-emptively turned him down.

"She said she didn't want to go back to the White House?" Josh said incredulously.

"Not in so many words," Matt said, studying the papers in front of him. "She basically hinted that she didn't want to stay in Washington. A polite way of telling me not to ask."

"Well, did she say anything else?" Josh pushed, leaning over the edge of the Congressman's desk.

"No, Josh. I didn't ask her," replied Santos, looking up from his papers. "She's always kept to herself. Wasn't my place to push."

Josh leaned back in his chair and studied a spot on the wall while Santos studied him. The Congressman was still completely in the dark regarding the nature of the relationship between his former campaign manager and issues director. Each seemed eager to avoid the other, but the sheer magnetism between them was obvious to anyone and everyone. The rumors had never stopped, even after the election, and it was hard to tell fact from fiction at this point.

"What do you think of Thomason as Secretary of Labor?" Matt said, studying the man across from him.

Josh continued to study the spot on the wall, oblivious to the question.

"Josh?"

Turning to Santos, Josh focused and said, "What?"

Shuffling the papers in front of him, Santos repeated, "What do you think of Thomason as Secretary of Labor?"

XXX

He was close to the apartment now, but no closer to figuring out what he would say to her. Before, when pushed into situations where he had to wing it, he had come up with secret plans to fight inflation, insults about God and tax evasion, and simple bullying. None of these tactics would work in this situation and Josh knew he'd have to be completely honest with himself and with her for the first time in almost nine years.

Honest? I'll be honest, he thought to himself. I'm scared shitless.

XXX

Standing outside in the snow, he studied the front door. He didn't want to use the buzzer because he didn't want to give her the opportunity to tell him 'no', or not answer the door, or call the cops, or any of the other dozen scenarios that ran through his head. So he waited.

After about ten minutes, someone came out the door and down the step. Josh jogged over and grabbed the door before it locked and ran up the steps to her door.

Shifting his bag again on this shoulder, he lifted his hand, hesitated and then knocked. The hallway was empty and he could hear the faint sound of music coming up the stairway from one of the lower apartments.

Knocking again, he strained to hear any movement from inside the apartment, but all was silent. Josh simply stood there, staring at the door. For once, he was completely out of ideas.

The sound of a door opening across the hall broke his reverie. Mrs. Silvasky, an older woman Josh had met several times right there in the hallway, saw him standing in front of the door and said, "Honey, she's gone."

Looking over at her, he said, "Gone? Gone where?"

"Moved," the older woman said. "Packed up everything and left."

Josh was stunned. In all of the scenarios he had played out in his head, he had never even considered this one. Not once.

"When did she leave?"

"The moving boys came last week," Mrs. Silvasky said, gesturing with her hands, "She went back to Minnesota, Michigan, no... oh, where is it she's from?"

"Wisconsin."

"That's it! She went back to Wisconsin. Said she was going to do something with books."

"Books?"

"That's what she said. I'm sorry you missed her."

Josh slumped slightly and shifted his backpack on his shoulder. The months of work and stress, elation and depression, suddenly made him feel like an old man. He had waited years for this very day and had banked everything on her opening that door when he knocked. It had never occurred to him that she wouldn't be behind the door or that she wouldn't even be in the city. But she wasn't there. Just like those months ago when she walked out of the White House, she was gone. Except this time, she didn't even tell him she was leaving.

"So am I," he said softly, an emptiness taking over and pushing at his heart. Turning, he walked back down the stairs.

As he got to the first floor landing, the music that had been barely audible before was louder. Donna had once mentioned that the girls on the first floor had a tendency for loud music – not that it bothered her, she said. It gave the building ambience and a liveliness she found comforting.

Josh stopped for a minute and listened. He recognized the song as one Donna had played for him once, after an argument over the merits of the Lilith Fair. As he heard it now, it seemed to mock him, as if fate was taking one last opportunity to rub his face in the time he had wasted.

In the terms of endearment

In the terms of the life that you love

In the terms of the years that passed you by

In the terms of the reasons why

Standing in that hallway, listening to the lilting voice of the red-headed singer, Josh felt a sadness settle in around him. It was similar to that he felt the day Donna left to work for Bob Russell, but deeper. He knew that leaving was her choice. Chasing after her would do nothing but drive her further away. He had gambled, taken his chance, and lost.

Pushing on the heavy front door, Josh walked outside into the bright January day. It was picture perfect, if only at first glance.

Fin.