Before leaving the White House for the evening, she stops by his office to drop off some information about the upcoming Congressional dinner. She's in a hurry: Daisy's hosting a New Year's Eve party, and although Mandy's not really looking forward to going to it, it beats spending the night alone. Or worse, at work, thinking of New Years past.

She's been thinking about the past a lot lately. She thinks maybe it's because she's here, with these people she knew so well but didn't really know at all. They're not on the campaign trail anymore but the same passionate personalities are here in the White House, the same loyalties , the same friendships, the same feelings. Or the lack thereof.

But she tells herself that she won't think about that now. Instead, she drops the file she's carrying squarely in front of Josh, determined to stick to business.

"Here's the information for next week's dinner."

He responds by shoving the file out of the way. He doesn't look up or bother to say thank you.

"The President needs to court these people if he wants their votes on the healthcare bill," she says, goading him into acknowledging her.

"He's going to," he tells her, flashing her one of his patented smirks, the one that insinuates that he's smarter than she is.

She really doesn't mean to push the issue any further, but she can't seem to help herself. She wants to wipe that look from his face. And arguing with Josh is just so... arousing. It always has been.

"It's important," she insists.

"I know it's important," he snaps.

"If we don't get them on board the whole point of the dinner will be null. We need their cooperation on this."

"Mandy, is there a reason you're here or did you just want to give me a hard time?"

She bites back an answer and watches in annoyance as Josh turns back to the papers on his desk, effectively dismissing her.

Defeated, she starts to leave, but then stops in his doorway for a moment, watching him work. She knows she should go but is reluctant to do so. She wonders if she should invite him to the party, or if that will just make her look foolish. When he looks up and arches a brow at her, she realizes she's hesitated too long.

"You're still here."

Unwittingly, he echoes her words from several years ago. Suddenly, despite promises to herself that she wouldn't dwell in the past, she's back in time, to another New Year's Eve spent with him under much different circumstances. The date may have changed, but little else has. He still has a way of making her feel things she'd rather not.

Without a word, she turns and leaves.

~~~~~

It had been the first time the campaign had brought him to New York for more than an overnight. She'd muttered to Carolyn that she might bring a friend to the party, might have a buddy in town, no big deal. No big deal, Carolyn had said. We've got plenty of booze. But Mandy had hired a cleaning service, vacuumed her rugs, done her laundry, went to the bank, went to the dentist. Took off work early to hit the gym every night for two weeks before he came. Gave up her life for him. And he stayed, though she hadn't expected him to, after all that.

It was just one of many New Years that could have been different if she had let it be.

~~~~~

She drags herself up the stairs to her apartment and wonders again why she agreed to go to this party. She's tired -- when *isn't* she tired these days? - and the thought of spending the night with a bunch of Daisy's drunken friends depresses her. But then she remembers that this isn't just any New Year's Eve, but the start of the new millennium. At least it is depending upon whom you've been listening to. Sam and Toby have been debating the issue for the past two weeks and they still can't seem to agree.

She goes to her closet, picks out an outfit and then heads to the bathroom to shower. When she emerges, naked and still damp, she heads to her bedside table and rummages around in the mess for a cigarette. She finally finds one and lights it, sinking back onto the bed as she inhales the fragrant smoke. She hears a leaky faucet dripping and instinctively she looks in the direction of the bathroom. Instead of an empty doorway, she sees Josh as he was four years ago.

~~~~~

"You're still here."

Josh was in the bathroom, and he leaned out with a hand on the jamb, and his t-shirt pulled up and exposed a strip of stomach above his boxers. Mandy scooted up against the headboard and lit a cigarette and winked at him.

"I'm still here," he said.

She snorted. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's almost five," he said, ducking back into the bathroom. "When do we have to be at the thing?"

Mandy practiced smoke rings. "Now," she said, with careful laziness.

"Get dressed," he said, and she heard him spit.

~~~~~

She walks to the party, thinking about other years.

There was the time when she lied to her parents and spent the night at Bobby's. And the time in college when she went away with Gary, even though she didn't even like him much. Between then and now, she's spent many New Years in less than perfect ways, but there's none she regrets more than that one New Years with Josh. She can't exactly pinpoint why, but she thinks it's because that was the night she realized what he meant to her. And what she didn't mean to him.

~~~~~

It was snowing, white New Years, dark early and the sun was set by the time she'd fixed herself coffee. Josh came into the kitchen with his hair wet from the shower, wearing the blue sweater she'd gotten him and his favorite khakis, the ones she hated. He got himself a mug from the cabinet and she watched his ass and then read the paper while he put too much milk in his coffee.

"You don't usually stay," she said, over the paper. She didn't mean to say it like that.

"I stay," he said, defensive, wiggling his lower jaw. "Your apartment's much neater than mine."

"The campaign's been in town a week," she said, words tumbling out before she could catch them, and she wondered who he was that could make her so weak. She'd been wondering a while. "You've stayed twice."

"It's New Years," he said, like that explained things.

"I have to stop writing 1995 on my checks," she said.

He shook out the paper, hid behind it so she couldn't see his face. "You're, ah, we're gonna be late," he said.

"I'm going," she said, and when she went back into her bedroom the sheets were tangled and he'd left his wet towel on the bed, wet footprints across the hardwood floor, his boxers in a pile on his backpack in the corner.

~~~~~

She wonders if things might have been different if she had let him know what she wanted, if she had been straightforward in asking him to stay or demanded more of his time. But back then, she didn't know how to ask. And even if she had, she's not sure if she would have. That's just not her style.

So she thinks about the little things, like the dirty laundry and the wet towels and the ugly clothes. It's easier to dwell on the inconsequential things, the things he was too preoccupied to notice or to care about.

Josh was just so... Josh. He was passionate and sexy and didn't think about the people around him. And for a while, he was hers.

~~~~~

At the New Year's party, he stayed close, slipped in beside her with his drink and wrapped his hand around her waist and she wondered if she felt fat. He liked to kiss her hair.

~~~~~

As she approaches Daisy's building, she sees a young couple on the sidewalk arguing. She catches a snippet of their conversation as she passes them.

"Stop treating me like your pet!" "I'm not. I just wanted to show those stuck-up snobs how much I liked you. You know, most girls like to be kissed and cuddled." "Not this girl!"

She's reminded of how Josh treated her at that long ago party, attentive and loving, and how he was when they got back to her apartment. It's not that his interest waned, but she no longer had his full attention. She wondered if she'd ever had in the first place.

He had come in and fucked her - there, at least, they had never had any problems -- and when she'd asked him to stay, he left. And she lay in bed and wondered if she really was fat or if he just felt too much pressure.

And she knew it wasn't his fault, but she blamed him anyway. Because she was in love with him, and that was new to her and she didn't like it at all.

~~~~~

Thirty minutes past midnight, she leaves the party and heads home. The young couple on the neighboring stoop is long gone. The streets are unnaturally empty, but every once in a while, she hears a note of music or a shout of laughter as she passes an open window. She doesn't notice the noise much, though, because she's still thinking about Josh.

She doesn't harbor any ill will towards him. It wasn't completely his fault that they didn't work. She played a role in it too, by not telling him what she wanted and by letting him call all the shots, by falling in love with him when she knew he wasn't in love with her.

She just can't help but wonder about what might have been. It's natural to do so on a night like tonight, the time of beginnings and endings. But the night is winding down and it's time to set her regrets aside. So she pushes her thoughts of the past away and heads home to some much needed sleep.

~End~