Important note: I'm trying to respect situations in Season 7. This began after Mummy Problem, so what happened in the Al Smith Dinner does not exist in this universe. But the events in the White House of the show are also unfolding here as the J/D takes place ok? And also, I'm sorry for being cruel and giving you yet another transition. But this was supposed to be just an intro and became a small chapter of its own. I'm trying to update weekly, but the actual meeting is nearly done, so maybe I'll post something in the next couple of days. Hope you like, 'cause I kind of love it! One way or another, please review!
Internal Struggle at the Gates of Heaven.
He felt like some kind of tourist getting a guided visit to the White House. Or something like that. Actually, he felt like a student going to prom at a very large, beautiful, intimidating, scary, and white ball room. Without a date. Or about to find out if he had one.
Had one? Good thing those thoughts stay in your mind, where no one will ever listen just how stupid you sound.
Right?
-Don't tell me you forgot the corsage!
What the hell?
She just stared at him, looking amused on the surface, but kind of nervous herself.
-sorry?
-You just reminded me of Mike McCourt. He was my date to the spring dance, and was a wreck when he showed up at my door. Same terrified expression.
Damned bad poker face.
-I'm neither terrified nor a wreck, Margaret- As he said this he felt his palms sweaty, and discretely ran them trough the sides of his pants.
Yeah, you're cool-Josh, you do know where you are going, right? – She looked weird.
Well, when doesn't she look weird?
But this time it was more of a "something's really wrong" weird.
-I think I've been here one or two times before, thanks. – With a last glance and wave at her, Josh continued through the once familiar halls.
He reached a set of cubicles that were part of the Communications Department, but not quite in the same area. There he spotted a door with the tag Campaign Liaison. He looked around, not really sure if he should knock, or wait, or what. Probably wait. Or knock?
Or what?He wasn't sure of anything, actually. He thought coming into this building would bring him memories and nostalgia. Or perhaps anger and regrets for the way things were left. But he wasn't expecting to be so irrationally nervous about seeing a woman he knew so well.
Yeah, "knew so well" before you got her blown up, then so sick of you that she had to quit, turned into your enemy and got rejected after she lost. And you won. And it was you who rejected her.
He hated that Margaret was right and he was a wreck. He had this sort of teen anxiety filling all of his systems and it had little to do with the fact that he was standing in the most important building of the country. This was the place where he used to work for seven years, and it was obviously filled with serious governmental tension today, but right now he could only remember a name and a face from all the time he had spent wandering these halls. People were running around, like they could sense something very grave was about to happen, but didn't know what; among them, he stood there, feeling sixteen again. And suddenly he had the horrid thought that perhaps he should have brought flowers.
Well, that's just terrific. Keep up the bright ideas, Josh!His right arm rose suddenly, seemingly determined.
What the hell are you doing, you big, sweaty, Mike McCourt look-a-like?He was knocking.