Josh had no clue what the meeting was about. He answered perfectly sensible questions with perfectly sensible answers, but without conscious knowledge of it. He was aware of Leo studying him, and of Sam sitting on the couch with one leg crossed over the other, his thumb tapping the instep of his shoe. He looked so wonderfully casual, the ease and comfort of his position among the staff members more secure than it had been a year earlier. He looked like he belonged, he no longer looked like a lost boy trying to do a man's job. And it occurred to Josh that although he still resembled a grad student, he wasn't as young as he looked. He didn't need to be coddled, and he had handled himself in a crisis with admirable strength of character. Josh suddenly questioned himself, wondering why he was so protective, and it occurred to him that he always had been. Sam was like an irritating younger brother. He loved him to death. After Rosslyn, he went though recovery and dealing with the shock. With Sam, it was realizing and acknowledging a lack of control. Being protective didn't do a damn bit of good in this world.

He stood in the back of the room and watched Jed Bartlet talk to Sam, asking his opinion which Sam gave openly in a soft yet firm manner. He watched as Jed leaned in, all attention, and saw how Sam raised his chin as he made a point, how his arms stayed loose as he gestured. He had no idea how Sam felt after his little confession. For Josh, it was a second layer of shock. He saw Leo watching him, and knew he was first on the "after meeting talk" list. And so it was, and Leo lead Josh into the office and shut the door, gesturing for Josh to sit. "You still seeing Linda?"

"Yeah, we have a lot to talk about." Josh rubbed his hands on his pants legs.

"No flashbacks?"

Josh sent Leo a piercing look. "No."

"So what's up with you and Sam?"

Josh sighed. "I don't know Leo, we just went through this thing together, you know? We have to sort it out."

Leo leaned back, his hand folded across his stomach, his expression kind. "I read what happened, but why don't you try telling me. Tell me what you're so afraid of."

Whatever the reason, the emotion wasn't leaving him. His heart still pounded from Sam's fall. Their brief talk had him on edge. He suddenly needed a friendly face to talk to, and Leo's grand-fatherly figure invited confidence. Josh looked up, surprised to find his eyes hot with tears. "I – I'm afraid. . ." his eyes fell upon a small glass pitcher, half-filled with water, "I'm afraid it will happen again, and I won't . . . I'm afraid people think bad of me now, after that. Sam got us out of there. Toby got us out of there. I hid."

"That's not what I heard."

Josh raised a confused face. "Sorry?"

"Sam says you saved his life. Several times."

"Sam got us out of that hut."

"And you kept vigil over him. You worried about him. You tried your damndest to kill those assholes when they had him."

"They threw me down. I was pissed, I didn't. . ."

"Josh, he knows. He knows you care, and I think it scares him."

"Okay, wait, he doesn't. . ." he allowed a small smile to grace his lips, "you don't think I'm. . ."

"Josh, don't even go there. Christ, you can't have a feeling these days without someone. . ."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, look, I'm glad he knows. I'd die for him. It's nice that he knows that."

"He'd do the same for you."

"This is getting mushier than I'm comfortable with."

"Mushy? Are you accusing me of getting mushy?" Leo actually sounded offended.

"No! I mean, oh god. . .just get me out of this conversation."

"Go get Sam and go for a drink. Get this out once and for all so I can have a proper working staff again, would you please?"

"Okay." Josh stood and pointed over his shoulder. "Uh, you-you want Sam now?"

"We've talked. How do you think I know all this stuff? I just need to see his draft."

"Oh. Yeah. Right." Josh started out, then turned. "You know that story you told me, about the man falling down the hole, and his friend jumping down there, you know the one. This was more like falling into hell."

"A little hotter, little harder to get out of." Leo shrugged. "But you're forgetting one thing."

"What's that?"

"He fell down there with you. You don't have to call for help. He was there the whole time."

"Actually," Josh said slowly, "I know that. I'm just afraid he's there, still." He gazed at Leo for a moment more, then walked out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The air was pleasant, the night calm, and the stars could just be seen in a hazy sky. "Makes them twinkle more."

"Huh?" Josh took a swig of his beer, his face puzzled.

"The stars. Hazy nights make them twinkle more."

"How many beers have you had?"

"Four?"

"Ah." Josh nodded and raised the bottle to his lips. "Just as well you live near here. This is nice, I didn't know it was here."

"Hasn't been open long. Best sidewalk café around."

"Feels like Italy."

"You've never been to Italy."

"I'm just sayin'. Or France, this could be France. Or New Orleans."

"Not muggy enough." Sam worried the label on his bottle, then raised it to the waitress who nodded and went for another. "Why are we here again?"

"I told you. To talk."

"Leo put you up to this."

"Sam, you're acting like you don't want to be with me or something. Not like we never go for a beer."

"No, but we haven't in a long time." Sam peeled of a strip of paper and sat back. The waitress placed the bottle in front of him, giving a nice smile before moving on to the table behind them. Sam upended it, then leaned against the iron rail that separated the tables from the sidewalk. "Guess that's my fault really."

"Why your fault?"

Sam considered. "You know, you're right. It's not my fault at all."

"Well, I'm glad we cleared that up." Josh signaled for another beer of his own.

"Really Josh, I know we're here for a reason cause I know Leo. Now let's get this out so we can actually enjoy ourselves later."

"What'd you have in mind for later?"

"Sleeping with a clear conscience?"

"You have a muddled one?"

"Okay, I'll start." Sam sighed. "Man. Okay, since we've come back you. . .cling. I mean you won't let me tie my shoes without checking the laces."

"I'm not that extreme!"

"I'm being. . .no, never mind. You know what I mean. And I know why you did it, I mean I understand, which is why I want to know why we're sitting here. You want to relive it again or something?"

"Sam, you won't talk about it. You haven't talked about it, and you're avoiding it now. Now stop with the indignant act and talk!"

"What do you want me to say? That I'm embarrassed? Humiliated? Ashamed? Mortified? I'm all those things, Josh. Talking doesn't help. Thinking about it doesn't help. And having you glued to my every move because of some guilt trip doesn't help either!"

"Sam. . ."

"I'm not a talker, Josh! Not about this. This is – this is too much to think about, too much to process. I don't want to talk. I want to work, I want to be allowed to work. That's what I need. Toby knows this, why don't you?"

"I – I don't know, I didn't think. . ."

"I know what you want. You want to hear how I got pissed at you, because you couldn't stop things. Because you always were the one to get the ball rolling and stop it when it was time, but you couldn't stop them. You want me to add to your guilt. Well, I'm not going to. I've got enough to work through without joining your pity party."

"Sam. . ?" Josh was stunned at the sudden change of mood.

"No. I'm not playing this." Sam stood. "I'm going home. I'm going to drink my own beer and watch a movie. I'm going to go over this draft a final time, take a hot shower, and go to sleep. And I'm going to wake up and go to work as if nothing happened. You have a shrink, Josh, use her. I'm not qualified for this."

Josh stood, ignoring the stares as his voice rose. "What – You selfish son of a bitch!"

"Enough. See you tomorrow." Sam handed the waitress thirty five dollars as she passed to cover his food and drinks, and snatched his jacket from the back of the chair.

Josh grabbed the waitress' arm and shoved another thirty into her hand before vaulting over the rail as Sam had done. He heard a comment from the table behind him, "lover's tiff", and shot the woman a glare before tearing off down the sidewalk after Sam. The man was walking angry, and might as well have been running for all he was able to catch him. "Sam! Wait up!" He could just see Sam step out into the busy street, glancing one way and the other before crossing. Traffic built back up before Josh could cross, and by the time he was on the other side, Sam was gone.

He hailed a cab and rode to his friend's apartment.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Toby?" Sam cradled his cell phone on his shoulder.

"Sam?" Toby flicked his watch around on his wrist. "What is it?"

"You working?"

"Do I ever stop?"

"Toby, it's eleven-thirty."

"And?"

"I'm coming in."

"You are."

"Yes."

"Might I ask the reason for this sudden enthusiasm?"

"Toby, I've cancelled dates and boat races for this job."

"All the more reason."

"I need to work."

"Come on, then."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

There was a shadow in the light, and that light was too damn bright to be real. Josh woke with a start to find a boy prodding at him with a stick. "What the. . .go away!"

"You ain't dead?"

"Oh god, do. . .wha. . . do I look dead?"

"You were lying on the steps. Thought 'cho you was dead."

"I'm not dead! I'm. . .aren't you supposed to be in school or in a nursery or something?"

"On a Saturday?" The boy continued to lean over him, his young face too critical.

"You got coffee?"

"No."

"Then leave." Josh scrubbed at his cheeks and checked his watch. Eight-thirty. He looked up at Sam's apartment and cursed loudly as he forced his stiff body to move. "Surprised I'm not in jail," he muttered, looking up once again and wondering why Sam would have left him out all night.

"You almost were. I said you locked yourself out and was waiting on a ride. Said you was tired."

"What?"

"I've seen you. Know you got a friend here. Wasn't worried 'bout nothin'. You want coffee?"

"I – no, no thank you. What's your name?"

"Marcus."

"Thanks, Marcus." Josh fished in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled bill. "Get yourself a candy bar or something." Marcus looked at the money, then at Josh, then snatched it and ran off down the street.

Josh grunted and made his way up to the apartment, feeling like an eighty-year old man. His knees actually creaked, and he knew that somewhere along his back and ass there would be a red line from the concrete steps. "Must've had more to drink than I thought." He shook his head and scolded himself for talking aloud in a deserted hall "like you never do it!" he said to listening ears, and rang the door bell. Inside he could hear Sam's phone ring, and hoped the man would be gracious enough to answer the door before answering the phone. And have coffee. Please god, have coffee. The phone continued to ring, and ring, and Josh shifted from one foot to the other impatiently. The phone continued to ring. Josh rang the doorbell and knocked, "Sam! It's me!" But the phone continued to ring, then stopped.

Josh pulled out his cell and called Toby. "Where are you?"

"Where do you think?"

Josh snorted. "Do you even have a home?"

"Sure. It's called my desk. What can I do for you, Josh?"

"You heard from Sam?"

"All night, unfortunately. He's asleep on my sofa."

"What?"

"He wanted to work, so I let him. I take it the talk didn't go too well."

"You knew about that?"

"Sam told me."

"Oh, right. Well, I'm at his place and was worried when he wasn't here, so. . ."

"He could've gone out for a bagel. Why worry?"

"Cause. . .I kinda. . .might have. . .slept on his front steps and he would have seen me when he came in so I figured he didn't come home and got worried. . ."

"Wait, what? You slept on his steps?"

"Not intentionally. And I was attacked. . ."

"Attacked?"

"Yeah, some kid poked me with a very long stick. . .."

"He should have shoved it up your ass! Oh, sorry Sam. . .hey, Josh slept on your steps last night."

"TOBY!!"

"I'm kidding. He's still asleep."

"God Toby, don't you breathe a word about this to anyone. Especially the stick part. I mean he already thinks I hover. . ."

"Sounds like you do."

"I was drunk! I. . ." Josh decided best to quit while he was ahead. "I guess, look, it doesn't matter. I'm going home to a real bed."

"If you say so."

"Say goodbye, Toby."

Toby hung up.