He has been amped up to peak levels of Josh-ness this week. The stress of spending all hours holed up at the White House in anticipation of what was to come, the actual highs and lows of dealing with the fallout from the President's announcement of his MS diagnosis and his reelection bid and everything that went with it. I've honestly barely seen him in days.
I stopped by the White House to take him a change of clothes and some breakfast a few days ago. He made some time for me and I was appreciative because I know he's not an easy man to pin down lately. We spent the bulk of the time practically making out in his office though, so we haven't talked about any of this. Not that we have to. In fact, he makes it a point to try and leave as much of his work out of our relationship as possible. It's fine with me, as I know he realizes he can come to me when needed. It's just a method to allow him to actually relax when we're at home.
I hear him walk through the door after another late night. Well, I guess it's pretty much morning right now. I smile to myself but can't find the energy to move. I know he'll be laying beside me in a minute or two.
But instead of his footsteps coming down the hallway, I hear him mutter a few profane words and then bellow my name from the living room.
"Josh?" I'm up in a flash. "Are you okay?"
"What- What is this?" He looks devastated as he holds up a copy of the morning paper.
Confused, I take it from him. It's dated today and there, on the front page below the fold, is a photo of me under a headline reading Nurse Paid MS Hush Money by Bartlet Administration.
"You knew?" Josh asks quietly, almost as if he's hurt. I think he knows the answer to the question before he asks.
"Well… I…" I don't know what to say here. I'm trying to wake up so I can read this article and figure out what's going on.
"How could you know and not say anything to me?" He bellows.
"Because!" I match his tone for no other reason than to capture his attention. "I'm not a political operative, I'm a nurse and I was abiding by HIPAA laws! Besides. The second I stepped out of that OR, President Bartlet's medical history was the furthest thing from my mind."
Josh let a long breath escape his lips as he scrubbed his hand harshly over his face. "Yeah. I'm sorry, that was out of line."
"Do you want to sit down so we can talk about what this article says?" I ask, making my way to the couch and beginning to read. He follows me but doesn't take a seat, opting to pace the floor in front of me instead. I'm hardly surprised.
The article alleges that following my review of President Bartlet's medical history, I approached several members of the White House senior staff and threatened to go public with the Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis. It claims that in an effort to avoid a leak, the Bartlet Administration used backdoor channels to pay for my silence. They cite Josh's payment of my tuition directly from his accounts to the University as their proof. It doesn't mention our relationship, our history prior to that horrible night or the fact that we've been happily planning our future together.
I'm angry, I'm humiliated and most of all, I'm heartbroken. I would never even contemplate anything like what they're accusing me of but there it is, in black and white, for the world to see.
"You know that I'd never-"
"I know." Josh assures before I even have a chance to finish the thought. "And you know that I didn't offer because-"
"I know." I give him a soft smile.
"It's going to be okay," he sits down next to me and speaks slowly, putting his arm around me.
"What do we do?" I ask, fearful of what's to come.
"We'll call CJ and Toby and Sam and come up with a strategy. And then we'll talk to Leo. So let's take a quick shower and head back into the White House. Just stay away from the press corps, okay?"
My eyes widen at that, but he just laughs it off.
"I've found it to be a good rule of thumb no matter the situation."
We both shower fairly quickly and while I'm finishing my makeup, Josh is at the sink next to me with a towel wrapped around his waist as he shaves.
He flips open his cell and presses speed dial 4, placing it on speaker and sitting it back on the counter.
A muffled hello comes through a moment later.
"Claudia Jean." Josh's voice booms and even in light of the situation at hand, I can tell he's deriving at least a little enjoyment from waking her up this way when the issue is something for which he can't be blamed.
"This better be good, idiot boy," she spouts off.
"It could be worse," he states. "But it could be better. Either way- you're my first call. Meet me in my office in an hour. I'm calling Sam and Toby, too."
She groans in frustration and ends the call. From Josh's non reaction I'm going to guess that is how the bulk of their phone calls go.
Josh then wakes Sam, who is instructed to bring Joan with him, and Toby, who sounded like he was already up. I smile to myself when it sounds like Toby is expecting the early morning wake up, wondering if perhaps we woke him when we called CJ. But that, I remind myself, is not the issue currently at hand.
Josh dresses quickly and we lock up before he takes my hand and walks me to his car, holding the door as I climb in. We stop for a box of bagels to share with our friends and make our way to the White House. Josh speaks to the agent in the foyer and I'm given a different type of visitor's pass than when I stop in to meet him for lunch.
He assured me over and over that everything will be fine, but the longer we sit inside of his office, the more my nerves grow.
I trust Josh completely. I just hope he's right about this.