"With all due respect, sir, I'm not wild about the idea," Donna told the Vice President as they sat in his hotel suite in Washington, DC. They were there making preparations for the Democratic convention – now certain to be a brokered convention – which would get under way in California in a week.
"With all due respect, sir, I'm not wild about the idea," Donna told the Vice President as they sat in his hotel suite in Washington, DC. They were there making preparations for the Democratic convention – now certain to be a brokered convention – which would get under way in California in a week.
"Why not?" The Vice President responded. "We'd have instant party unity. And all those excited throngs of people at Santos' rallies would be working for us now."
"Those excited throngs of people want Matt Santos as President. Not Vice President."
"You really think they wouldn't support a ticket with his name on it? They know the Vice Presidency is about the best launching pad there is to the Presidency. We win and get re-elected, and eight years from now Matt Santos goes into the Democratic primary as essentially the presumptive nominee."
Like you did, sir? It took all of Donna's restraint not to say that out loud.
"Do we even think Santos would accept?" she asked instead.
"He'd be insane not to," the Vice President responded. "This would be huge for him. Six months ago no one had ever heard of him and he was retiring from congress. Now we're about to offer him the Democratic nomination for Vice President of the United States?"
"He's smart, he's charismatic, I think he could do wonders for us." Will added.
"You want the charisma at the top of the ticket, not the bottom," Donna countered.
"So you're saying we should push for a Santos/Russell ticket instead?" Will asked dryly.
"Hey! I'm not sure I like the implication that I'm not charismatic," the Vice President put in, his voice only half-teasing.
"Also, you want your VP to be an attack dog." Donna argued. "And if there's one thing that Matt Santos is not…"
"He'd go on the attack if we told him to. It would be his job." The Vice President insisted.
"I'm not so sure he would," Donna shook her head. "And even if he did, it would be at the expense of his own 'brand'. People like him because he doesn't come across as just another politician. If he were to start behaving like one, he'd be giving up the very thing that's brought him this far. And thus give up any advantage that image would bring to our ticket."
"Will?" The Vice President looked at him for his opinion.
"I think we should do it," Will responded. "Donna's points are valid, but look at the alternative. A huge floor fight at the convention."
"We're up in the delegate count going in," Donna pointed out.
"Only by 78 delegates." Will reminded her. "Where do you think that's going to get us, exactly? Let's face it, Matt Santos generates an energy and enthusiasm that the Vice President – no offense, sir – just doesn't. He's perceived as having all the momentum. If we go into a free-for-all at the convention, I have to be honest, I'm not sure I like our chances."
"What about Eric Baker?" An idea suddenly came to Donna. The governor of Pennsylvania could be a perfect running mate. "Is there any chance he might take the Vice Presidency? He'd give us Pennsylvania on the second ballot. Other states too, I bet. And he'd be a huge asset going into the general election."
"Russell/Baker," Will mused. "I like that idea too. I don't know if he'd be interested, but if so…" he paused. "Mr. Vice President, why don't you set up a meeting with Baker? I'll take the Santos VP idea to Josh. If Santos says yes, we go with him. If not – well, maybe we can get Baker on board."
"Sounds like a plan." The Vice President nodded. "And what do you say we leak our discussions with Baker? Put more pressure on Santos to accept."
"Brilliant," Will nodded.
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Donna walked into the cocktail lounge at the hotel, and sat down on a plush chair to watch Republican VP nominee Ray Sullivan's acceptance speech at the Republican convention. Almost immediately, she noticed Josh sitting at the bar, his back to her. She wondered whether she should go up to him. He and Congressman Santos were still considering the VP offer. Maybe she should try to lobby him to accept? Or – should she push him to decline?
But Sullivan's acceptance speech soon pushed thoughts of the Democratic primary from her mind. At first she thought she was being paranoid, but it soon became clear that she wasn't. One reference after another to sickness, disease, etc. Her blood began to boil. How dare he?
She glanced at Josh. She could tell even from looking at back of his head that he was fuming.
"You're not going there. Tell me you're not going there." She heard him mutter.
She slowly got up and approached him. She wanted to commiserate with someone who would understand, and besides, it would be nice to be on the same page as Josh for the first time in months. Despite everything, one thing they still had in common was their affection for President Bartlet.
"Is he trying what I think he is?" she asked, standing next to him.
He glanced over at her. She tried to read his face to determine whether he was glad to see her.
"The MS. He's invoking the MS." Donna still couldn't believe he could be so brazen.
"This is gonna backfire," Josh predicted as Sullivan continued his line of attack.
"Maybe people won't get it," Donna suggested. She hoped they would, though. Josh was right. The Republicans could take a lot of heat for invoking the sitting President's illness for political gain.
"so clogged with complications, it's positively sclerotic…" Sullivan pronounced.
"Okay, they'll get that."
"You're going to Hell!" Josh shouted at the television, loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear him.
"Josh," She put a hand on his arm. "Let's sit over here."
She led him back to the chairs where she had been sitting.
"I realize the VP candidate's the designated hatchet man, but that's…" Josh's voice trailed off as he appeared to search for a strong enough word.
"If Santos accepts, you can get your revenge."
"Yeah, you think I might find five, or five hundred ways to call Vinick old? You want sclerotic, I'll give you sclerotic."
"Santos wouldn't do it."
"Probably not."
Despite their mutual anger at the Republicans, or maybe even because of it, Donna felt a warm feeling in her heart. This was the first time since she'd quit that she and Josh had talked, easily, with no tension between them. It almost felt like old times.
"Maybe why he shouldn't take the job," she suggested.
"Maybe why he'd be a great choice. Restore some civility."
"You want him to accept?"
"You don't," he realized, looking at her intently.
She and Josh began discussing the issue. It was clear that he shared every one of her concerns about a potential Russell/Santos ticket. She missed this. Talking with Josh about politics – and not as competitors, either. As friends.
He smiled. "How did you get so smart about this?"
She found herself beaming. The look of respect on Josh's face felt indescribably good. She realized how much she had wanted to hear him say something like that, to see her as someone who was more than just an assistant, even a "valuable" one.
"I had a good teacher," she gave him a warm smile.
He leaned back in his chair. "Thanks."
She kept smiling, but something about that suddenly rubbed her the wrong way. Was he taking credit for her success? She had been the one who did this, not him. Okay, so she'd been the one who'd said she'd had a great teacher, so it didn't really make sense for her to be mad at him, but still. She got up and walked away, but before she left, she found herself turning around and saying, "I meant Will."
She turned away again quickly, but not before she caught a glimpse of the stung look on Josh's face. She walked out the door and headed toward the elevators.
Why had she said that? Of course she had meant Josh. She'd said she had a good teacher, past tense. Will was still her boss, so unless she'd been implying that she'd already learned everything she could from him…
The hurt look on Josh's face was etched in her mind. She realized she might as well have slapped him. She might as well have told him that the eight years they'd spent together meant nothing to her, that she'd learned nothing, that it had just been a waste of her time. None of that was true. So why had she said it? Why had she hurt him for no reason?
My main hesitation with making you our spokesperson was that I wasn't sure you could be mean enough. Now I know you can be. Will's words from months ago echoed in her mind. What if this business of politics was affecting her in a way she didn't like? What if she really was becoming a mean person?
She wiped away a tear that had formed in her eye and walked toward her hotel room.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The door to the office opened, and Matt Santos strode out. Donna, Will, and Josh all looked up anxiously. Congressman Santos and the Vice President had just met to discuss the VP offer, but from the expressions on both their faces, it appeared it hadn't gone well.
"Thank you all. Josh," the congressman summoned his campaign manager, not slowing down as he walked toward the door.
Josh hastily got up and followed him out of the room, and Donna and Will turned to the Vice President.
"It's a no," he said simply.
Donna let out a breath. "So I guess we go with Baker then. That may be a better choice anyway."
"Yep, I think Santos blew it," Will agreed. "Once we get Baker on board, Pennsylvania's in our column, and who knows how many other Santos states will flip also. He's going to regret this day for a long time to come."
Donna nodded. She and Will said goodbye to the Vice President and walked out his office to head back to the hotel. She'd just spent the last 20 minutes sitting outside the VP's office, waiting to find out if her candidate was about to officially clinch the Democratic nomination, and all she'd been able to think about was Josh, sitting on the other side of the room. The tension had been almost unbearable. Josh wouldn't even look at her. He'd told a few bad jokes – bad enough to betray how tense he was – and when she'd attempted to speak to him…
"Don't." She shivered slightly as she remembered the way he'd cut her off before she could say a word. In the time they'd worked together, Josh had certainly been angry with her more than once. He'd yelled at her before. But she could never, ever remember him refusing to even speak to her.
Not that she could blame him after what she'd said.
"So what was wrong with Lyman in there?" Will asked as they walked. "Think he was pissed because he knew Santos was going to say no?"
"How should I know?" Donna shrugged. The last thing she wanted to talk about right then was Josh. She changed the subject. "So how sure are we that Baker will accept the VP offer?"
"The Vice President was optimistic about their meeting. That's all I know for sure."
"He decided not to run for President even though he probably would have been the front-runner. Why would he want the Vice Presidency now?"
"Who knows?" Will shrugged. "Maybe he regrets not going for it. Maybe he just really wants Russell to be our nominee instead of Santos."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
That night, Donna headed down to the lounge. She needed to be by herself for awhile. It was late, and the lounge was nearly empty. She walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. As she did, she did a double take as she noticed Josh sitting at a table in the corner of the room, chewing on a pen and concentrating intently on his Blackberry. He didn't appear to have noticed her come in.
For a moment, she considered going over and talking to him, but quickly decided against it. What could she say? She had killed whatever chance they might have had of becoming friends again with three stupid words: "I meant Will."
She only took a few sips of her beer before deciding to leave. Josh still hadn't looked up from his Blackberry, and appeared oblivious to her presence, but she couldn't relax with him in the room.
As she walked out of the lounge, she couldn't help but be aware of two men who had been sitting at the bar following her.
"Hey there," one of the said, stepping in front of her once they were in the hallway. "Going back to your room?"
"Excuse me," Donna muttered, trying to go around him. His friend blocked her way. Both of them smelled strongly of alcohol.
"You looked lonely in there. Pretty girl like you shouldn't be sitting at a bar all by herself."
"Yeah, mind if we keep you company?" The other one touched her shoulder lightly. She jumped back, beginning to feel genuinely frightened.
"Please leave." Her voice was stern. She tried again to walk away from them, but they continued to circle her.
"Hey, hey, no need to be rude, sweetheart."
"Get lost, jackasses!" she yelled those last words, hoping someone would hear her.
"Oh look, we're making her mad. What? Was it something we said?"
"Jackasses, wow. Oh, that hurts. It's not nice to call names." He stepped closer to her threateningly.
"Hey!" another voice came from the direction of the lounge. "She said get lost."
Donna closed her eyes with relief when she saw Josh coming toward them.
"And who are you?" One of the men sneered at him. "Her boyfriend?"
"Yeah, if you're her boyfriend, why was she sitting all by herself in there?"
"I don't think you're a very good boyfriend."
"What the hell is wrong with you morons?" Josh stood between her and the two men. "A woman tells you to get lost, you get lost. Go sleep it off."
"Yeah, and who's going to make us? You?" One of them gave him a shove. Josh clenched his fists and his jaw line tightened, but he said nothing.
Donna's heart was pounding. If the confrontation became physical, both the men were substantially larger than Josh. And – a terrifying thought entered her mind – what if either of them had a weapon? If something happened to Josh because he'd tried to protect her...and after the way she'd treated him...
After what seemed like an eternity of tense silence, one of the men shook his head. "Pathetic losers."
He gave Josh another shove and walked away. His friend followed.
"Yeah, back at ya," Josh couldn't resist calling after them, to Donna's alarm. Josh, they're leaving, why would you provoke them? But the men appeared not to hear him as they disappeared down the hall.
She let out a long, shaky breath and touched Josh's arm. "Thanks."
He looked at her worriedly. "Are you okay?"
She nodded and walked over to a sofa in a nearby sitting area. Josh followed and sat next to her. Whether it was the scare she'd just had, the stress of the campaign, or just the kind expression on Josh's face – probably a little of all three – she suddenly found herself unable to fight back tears. She looked away from him and tried unsuccessfully to wipe them away before they slid down her cheeks.
"Hey, what is it?" Josh put an arm around her shoulder. Then a look of fear crossed his face. "They – did they hurt you?"
"No," she choked out. She let out a breath and tried to collect herself. "It's just – I guess it's just been a long day."
"Yeah," he nodded in understanding, and then they sat in silence for a minute, his arm still wrapped around her shoulders.
Finally she took a deep breath. "I meant you too."
He didn't have to ask what she was referring to. He drew back slightly as he remembered her words.
"I did, Josh."
"Donna, you don't have to take pity on me. Will's a good teacher to you; I wasn't. Fine. That's how it is." Her heart ached at the hurt in his voice. Despite the "tough political operative" image that he liked to present to the world, she knew how much emotional vulnerability he carried, not very far below the surface. He wounded easily.
"That's not how it is." She turned to look at him. "I don't know why I said that, but it wasn't true. I don't know, maybe I'm just turning into…into a mean person." She looked at the floor miserably.
He shook his head. "You're one of the least mean people I've ever met, Donna. You're just pissed at me, that's all. I'm not sure why, exactly, but…"
"I'm not pissed at you."
"Oh. Okay. Maybe you are just mean, then." His voice was only half joking.
She turned on the couch so she was facing him. "Josh, I can't stand this anymore. You were my best friend for eight years. I can't take any more of this tension between us. I miss you. I miss our friendship."
He looked at her. He didn't say anything, but from the expression on his face she knew what he was thinking. You made that choice, not me.
"Please," she continued softly, "Can't we fix things between us?"
He buried his face in his hands for a moment. When he spoke, it sounded like he was fighting tears himself.
"I don't know. I want to, Donna, I do. But…" His voice trailed off.
She closed her eyes. "I left the job, Josh. Not you."
"Yeah, ever hear of two weeks notice?" he suddenly snapped at her.
"I know. I admit I screwed up on that one."
He just looked at her for a moment, obviously trying to decide what to say.
Suddenly they were interrupted as Will came down the hall.
"Hey, there you are!" he said to Donna. "I thought I'd let you know-"
His voice broke off when he saw Josh. Clearly he didn't want his opponent's campaign manager overhearing their conversation.
Josh got up. "Well, I'll leave you with your mentor."
"Josh…"
He managed a small smile. "Goodnight, Donna. Will, I'll see you around."