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| Chapters from a Book Not Yet Written (Four Ways It Never Fell Apart) |
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Notes: Happy 40th, Pamala! Ready-made angst, just for you. _____________________ The bruises are all she has left of him. They stand out in sharp relief against her pale skin, and she delicately traces the outline his fingers left across her shoulders. They sat there like that for most of the night, her leaning against his legs as his hands clutched at her nervously, reflexively, waiting for the results to come in. He didn�t know he was hurting her, and she didn�t tell him. She never told him when he hurt her. �It ain�t over til it�s over,� Leo had said to them all earlier in the night, but as she sat there and watched the flickering lights of the TVs play across the faces of these people who had become her family, she knew that he had lied. Because in some very fundamental way, each of them was already alone. Leo paced the room wearily, the strain of the past few months showing in the set of his jaw, the tiredness in his eyes. Sam was wrapped up in some involved conversation with Bonnie, but there was something missing when he smiled at her. CJ was talking, not to Toby, but at him, and he wasn�t even keeping up a pretense of listening as his eyes flickered over her shoulder at the tv behind her. And then there was Josh, who should be having his day of victory, but who was instead sitting behind her on the couch, clinging to her as if he thought she could stand between him and the inevitable. She couldn�t. It had never been in her job description to save him, but she had, so many times and in so many ways that neither of them could remember them all anymore. But this time she could offer him no protection, no refuge, only the vague comfort of the warmth of her skin to cling to as he waited for their defeat to be announced. When it was, there was no surprise, only silence, and then a muttered �sonofabitch� that may have come from Toby, or Leo, or somebody else entirely. Slowly movement started again, and she felt his hands pull back from her shoulders, taking with them their warmth and comforting pressure. He left the couch eventually, crossed the room to talk to Leo, and she sat alone there on the floor until Sam took his place, then Ginger, and finally Larry. Time passed as she tried to reconcile herself with the fact that Josiah Bartlet would never be President, and by the time he returned she had discovered that she couldn�t yet bring herself to really believe it. His hands were warm against her back as he led her upstairs to her room, and in the dull humming of the elevator she remembered all the nights on the campaign trail when it had been the other way around, her leading him upstairs to collapse drunkenly in his bed. But tonight she wasn�t drunk, just stunned, and he wasn�t there by her side because it was his duty to be, but rather because he recognized the night as the ending it was. He paused in her doorway, and there was an awkwardness between them that had never existed before, not even on that first morning when she had swept into his life. And because it was the last night, because she knew she would be on a plane in the morning, she reached out and traced the line of his tie that now hung undone around his neck, then used it to pull him towards her, capturing his lips with hers. Maybe there had been love between them, or at least the beginnings of love, on those nights when they had sat curled up together on the campaign bus, on the mornings when they had sat silently in his office, each nursing their first coffees of the day. But this was not love, it was only desperation, fueled by a need to forget, to escape. He pulled back for just a moment, hands still tangled in her hair, and it hurt too much to see what was in his eyes, so she kissed him again, rougher this time, her fingers dancing along the buttons of his shirt. By the time they made it to the bed there was nothing left between them, nothing but the knowledge that this was not a beginning but an end, and the finality of his lips on her skin nearly brought tears to her eyes. She woke hours later and lay in the still darkness, feeling the warmth of his breath as it brushed the skin of her neck. He didn�t wake when she left. It was better that way. Now she stands in front of a mirror in a different hotel room, and she lightly touches the marks his fingers had left on her skin. She tells herself she never loved him, she only needed him. She thinks that maybe someday she�ll be able to believe it. ______________ �You�re a wreck,� Sam remarked, sinking down onto the barstool beside him, and he raised his head to look at him with bleary eyes. �Yeah.� He didn�t bother arguing. What was the point? He was a wreck. �Bad day?� Sam suggested, signaling for a beer of his own. He snorted a little. �Could say that.� �Yeah, well. This state hates Bartlet. We knew it coming here. So we move on in the morning, chalk the whole trip up as a wash, and head to Massachusetts, where we�re actually liked.� He paused and peered at Josh intently, then leaned back on his stool, squinting at him a little. �That�s not it, is it? Something else is going on with you.� Josh shrugged noncommittally and Sam frowned. �Leo�s not still giving you crap about the speech on Friday, is he? Because that was really entirely Toby�s fault. And, you know, a little mine. He really shouldn�t be coming down on you about it.� �He�s not,� Josh told him, and there was a tiredness in his voice that Sam didn�t recognize. �I think�� he trailed off to take a sip of his beer before continuing. �I think I might have been incredibly stupid.� �Ah.� Sam nodded knowingly. �And this is something new and different for you?� When Josh didn�t even pretend to smile, he sighed and changed tracks. �Ok, I�ll bite. What were you stupid about?� �Donna.� �Oh that. Yes. You were.� Josh raised his eyebrows. �Thanks.� �I�m just saying. If she had ended up in my office that day, there�s no way in hell I�d have let her disappear back to Wisconsin like you did.� Josh�s eyebrows lifted a little higher, and Sam felt his face flush. �I mean because, you know, she�s a great assistant.� �Right.� �Look, man, she was crazy about you, and you were the only one around here who didn�t see it until it was too late. So on the stupid scale? I�d say you rank pretty high.� �Well clearly she wasn�t. Do the words Dr. Freeride mean anything to you?� �Obviously not as much as they mean to you.� That earned him a glare, so he hurried on. �You know, I�m sure it was nothing personal. She did seem to be one of those women who�s attracted to needy guys. She probably just saw him as somebody who needed her more than you did.� �I think there might have been an insult in there, but I�m pretty sure I�m too drunk to really care.� �Lightweight,� Sam said with a tiny smile. �Sensitive system,� he muttered, and glanced away. Sam sipped his beer, not really knowing what to say to that. �Look,� he finally said. �If you miss her that bad, and I know you do, why don�t you just call her? See if maybe she wants her job back? She might welcome the invitation, but it�s not like she�s gonna come back on her own.� �She did,� Josh said, and for a minute Sam thought he had heard him wrong. �She what?� �She came back.� He blinked. �Well. That�s�great. What the hell are you doing here, then?� �Being an idiot.� Sam nodded wisely. �Ok.� He took another sip of his beer. There was no handling Josh when he was like this. He would explain on his own time. �She was in my office when I got in this morning. And it wasn�t like I hadn�t thought about it a million times, like I hadn�t half expected it every time I walked through that door. I had practically planned out what I would say to her. I wasn�t going to give her any crap about it. I was just going to be cool, and point to the stuff on the desk, and tell her to take care of it. But then she was there, and it was like�� he waved his bottle around expressively. �I�m an idiot, Sam.� �I know,� he said. �What�d you do?� He shook his head. �How could I trust her? I mean, how could I hire her back to a campaign that she could just up and walk away from like that? She used up her second chance the day she walked into my office, and she blew it.� �You sent her away.� It wasn�t really a question. �Well I couldn�t very well justify hiring her back, could I? I can just see it now, telling Leo that I�d hired her back after she ran off like that. It was bad enough when I practically hired her off the streets the first time.� �Leo wouldn�t care, and you know it. Do you know how many assistants you�ve had in the last two months, Josh?� He paused. �Three?� he guessed. �Four. And you know the one you have now will be gone in a week. Leo would be thrilled if you hired someone he knows you could work with. So don�t give me that crap. You think she left you, not the campaign.� �She did.� �Well maybe she did.� He shrugged. �What do I know? All I know is, she came back. And if that doesn�t tell you something, you really are an idiot.� He stood up and stretched, laying some money down on the bar. �You should head up soon. We�re leaving at some ridiculous hour tomorrow.� �Yes Mom,� Josh said, a tiny smile playing across his lips. Sam shook his head at him and started away, but turned back before he reached the door. �And you should call Donna,� he added, and all trace of the smile disappeared. �Just forget it, Sam,� he said wearily. �She�s better off this way.� He took another sip of his drink. �Without me.� There was nothing to say to that, really, so Sam left him there, alone with his drink and his delusions. As the elevator doors opened with a soft ping, he wondered how many years would pass before Josh realized his mistake. He didn�t think he�d want to be around when he did. _______________ The sound of the end was the closing of a door. She didn�t let the tears fall until the latch clicked into place behind her, and it was a small comfort at least. She hadn�t let herself cry in front of him, because she was better than that, more than that. She had no right to cry, not even now, but she let herself anyway because who was going to care? She could feel their eyes on her as she crossed to her desk and began calmly packing things into a cardboard box. Her hands trembled a little as she picked up a photo of them together at Bartlet�s first Inauguration. She would never see the second one, except maybe on tv, and she doubted she�d even be able to do that much without feeling tears sting her eyelids. You�re fired. They were words he had flung at her for years, ones that she could always deflect with a laugh and an �impervious!� tossed over her shoulder in his direction. This time that was no defense for her, because there was a look of steel in his eyes that she had seen many times, but never directed at her. You�re a liability. To me, and to the administration. She had lied for him, to protect him, and he had shut her out for it. She wondered if he knew that, knew why she had lied. He probably did, and, knowing him, he probably blamed himself in some backwards and twisted way. The contents of the box rattled as she lifted it, and she cursed her shaking hands, praying silently that no one was looking, that no one cared. But she could feel their eyes on her back as she left. When she got home she collapsed on her couch without unpacking her things, and cried herself into an uneasy sleep. It didn�t surprise her when a knock at her door woke her. It was nearly midnight, and maybe she should have been in bed, but she no longer had to get up for work in the morning, so what was the point? Her slippers padded softly across the carpet as she made her way to the door, and when she opened it to find him standing there, she could see his lips twitch in a tiny smile as he took in the picture she made, work clothes rumpled beyond recognition, hair tousled, eyes still bleary from sleep, and fuzzy bunny slippers on her feet. �I woke you,� he said, and it wasn�t a question, but he slipped past her into the apartment anyways. She looked anywhere but at him, because her eyes still felt swollen from her last crying jag, and she�d be damned if she broke down again in front of him. �What do you want, Josh?� �I want�� he waved his hands ineffectually. �I don�t want you to hate me,� he amended, and his voice was just plaintive enough for her to hear that he had been drinking. She sunk wearily back onto the couch, and he perched on the arm of a chair across from her. �I don�t hate you,� she told him, her eyes still not meeting his. �But I don�t think you showing up at my apartment in the middle of the night after you�ve just fired me is such a great idea either.� �Dammit Donna,� he said, and there was a familiar note of frustration in his voice. �I did it to protect the President, and you know it. This is exactly the kind of amateur bullshit he can�t afford right now. I mean, shit. You slept with the guy who�s supposed to be prosecuting him!� �What are you really pissed about, Joshua? That I lied to the committee, or that I slept with someone who wasn�t you?� They both froze. �I mean�� she tried to clarify, but he cut her off. �I�m pretty sure you said what you mean, loud and clear.� She shook her head and turned away, looking blindly out the window. �We don�t have to do this, Josh. Not tonight.� �Fine,� he said, and she could hear in his voice the way his emotions were warring within him, as if he didn�t know whether to sound angry or sad or something else entirely. �Let�s not do it tonight. Let�s wait until a better time, when everything is just fine and ducky in both our lives. Oh, but wait. That time�s never going to happen, because you just threw it out the window.� �Look, Josh, there are a million reasons why it�s a bad idea for us to do this tonight, not the least of which is the fact that I�m not entirely comfortable having this conversation with someone who�s drunk enough to actually use the word �ducky.�� She let out a choked laugh, but there was no humor in it. �Just leave, please?� �Can�t do that.� �Well why the hell not?� �Because I know you. I�m going to leave here tonight, and you�re going to start packing. And by the time I get out of work tomorrow, you�re going to be on a plane somewhere over Ohio, and I�m never going to see you again.� �Don�t be a drama queen,� she muttered, but if she was honest with herself, she couldn�t really say that the thought hadn�t crossed her mind. He reached out to turn her face towards him, but she still wouldn�t meet his eyes, looking instead at his rumpled suit, his loosened tie, his hair that looked like he had run his fingers through it one too many times. �Tell me you haven�t thought of it. Tell me that when I fired you this afternoon, your first instinct wasn�t to pack your things and jump on the next flight to Madison.� She hated that he knew her so well. �You just can�t survive without me,� she said, trying to deflect his attention, trying to get her voice to sound light and teasing, but she saw in his eyes that she failed. �No,� he said. �I can�t.� And there were a million meanings behind those words that she didn�t want to hear. She sighed wearily and turned her face back away from him, feeling the cool touch of air on her cheek where his fingers had rested. �Go home, Josh. Call me when you get home from work tomorrow, and we�ll talk.� He frowned at her. �You�ll be here?� �I�ll be here,� she told him, and it hurt that he had taught her to be such a convincing liar that she could fool even him. �I�ll call,� he told her, and walked to the door with just one backwards look at her, and it was in that glance that she knew he hadn�t been fooled at all. She listened to the door close behind him, and when his footsteps faded down the hallway, she got up and began to pack. _______________ You wonder briefly how it came to this�the five of you in a room with the wrong man at the end of the night, and the door closing behind the only one who could ever hold it all together for you. The country is falling to pieces around you, and you are the only one who looks after him, the only one whose eyes follow him as he walks away from it all. You try not to resent the fact that he can run, that he can just toss in the towel like that and step down from the responsibility. You look around the room at them all, at Toby, who has more important things to be thinking about tonight; at CJ, whose job it will be to answer for all this when all is said and done; at Will, who was just starting to find his place in the madness before you were blindsided by another type of madness entirely; at Leo, without whose tireless faith none of you would be here. You try not to think that he has failed you all. She is waiting for you when you go back to your office, perched on the edge of your desk like something useless and ornamental, even though you know that she�s exactly the opposite of those things. �He did it,� she says, and it�s not a question, not really, so you don�t answer her. You just shut the door with a resounding click behind you and sink down into one of the chairs in front of her. Somehow the thought of walking all the way around your desk to your own chair is just too much effort. You�re looking at the floor, so she probably doesn�t think that you can see her hand as it inches up to reach out to you, stills as she thinks better of it, and retreats to her lap. You see, though, and the fact that you have her pity infuriates you. �Go home,� you tell her, because there�s nothing left here for her to do, nothing but comfort you, and you don�t want the cold comfort her touch would bring, because it would fix nothing, mend nothing, and leave you both feeling hollow. �Are you going to?� she asks, and you feel a twinge of irritation that she must constantly mother you. Not until all this is over, you want to say, but instead you nod. �Of course. I�ve got a country to run in the morning.� You don�t know where the joking tone came from, or how it could fall so horribly flat in the silence of the darkened room. �Josh,� she says, just your name and nothing else, and the tone of it is enough to break you. You look up, and there is something in her eyes that burns through you in a way that you can�t stand, not tonight, so you rise up abruptly from the chair and capture her face in your hands, pressing your lips to hers just to shut those eyes, to keep that painful gaze from your face. She doesn�t fight it, just the opposite, in fact, and you feel her arms curl around your neck as your fingers trip along the buttons of her blouse. It shouldn�t be like this, so awkward and desperate, but it is because that is how you are, both of you, lost and confused and in need of escape. You find your escape in the smooth delicate planes of her skin and the warm taste of her on your lips. You take her there on the desk, a vision out of every bad porn movie ever made, and you don�t care, because all you know in that moment is her heat and her soft cries that you stifle with an ungentle hand. And when it�s over you don�t watch her leave, you just sink back down into that chair and wait for sleep to take you, though you know it never will. If you could read her mind, you would hear Amy�s voice, hear those hateful words. Are you in love with Josh? And then you would hear the even more hateful answer. No. You can�t though, and all you can hear is the beating of your own heart as she gathers her clothes and her dignity and shuts the door behind her. |
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