Notes: The idea belongs to chocolateluvr223. I just borrowed it.
_____________________
She had never been able to stand blood. She had never thought that she could handle this, standing outside the operating room, watching the doctors working miracles on a broken body. But she had needed to be here, not for him really, because he would never know the difference, but for herself, so that she could tell herself in the years to come that she had been there for him when he needed her, that she had been here to watch over him.
Because she hadn�t been there for him when he had been shot.
Nearly three years of working for this man, three years since she had walked into the Bartlet for America headquarters and taken up a spot in the first office she came to, and even after all this time, all these years, she still felt as if she barely knew him, as if there was still so much about him that she had yet to discover.
And now she might never have the chance.
She blinked back the tears that began to sting her eyes, and felt a comforting hand land on her back. It wasn�t the first time he had come in here tonight, and she knew, could tell by the fear in his eyes, that he was just as scared as she was. They had been friends for so long, these men, had been through so much together. And now, tonight, there was nothing he could do, nothing but stand there and watch and try to comfort his friend�s distraught assistant.
He wrapped his arms around her, and she felt the tears begin to fall. She had tried so hard to keep herself together, to keep from breaking down, for his sake, but he wasn�t here, and she needed to cry, needed this comfort. So she held onto his friend as if he could save her from drowning in her own tears.
He buried his face in her hair, and she could feel him choking back his own sobs, not wanting to cry. But it had been a long hard night for all of them, and it wasn�t over yet, so she held onto him as their tears fell together, and she whispered to him that it was going to be all right.
She prayed that she wasn�t lying.
Finally, there were no more tears to be shed, and he pulled back uneasily, and she could see him taking in her disheveled hair, the bruised look in her eyes, her face that had aged ten years in the past few hours.
�You should sleep,� he told her, but she could tell that he knew it was useless, that he was only saying it because he felt he should, because he worried for her.
She waved a hand at the window. �I can�t. I just�I can�t.�
He nodded. �I�m sure Dr. Bartlet could��
�I can�t, Josh,� she told him, and she turned away, wiping the last tears from her eyes and letting her mind wander as she turned her attention back to Sam.
_______________
She really didn�t know what she had been thinking. It was crazy, what she had done, as she had certainly heard enough times from her mother, and her sister, and everyone else back home. It had gotten to the point where she had stopped taking their calls. She could just tell them the next time they talked that the cell reception in New Hampshire sucked. It wasn�t entirely a lie.
She had needed to get away, though, and this had seemed like a perfect opportunity to do it, the perfect chance to start over, to get away from Alan, and to become someone on her own for the first time in her life.
Growing up, she had always been Cady�s little sister, the one who never quite measured up, in looks, in talent, in anything. Then she had gotten to college, and she had met Alan, and she had thought that he was going to be it, he was going to be her escape from that existence. But soon enough, she had become nothing but Alan�s girlfriend to everyone, and it was the same old story all over again. Finding out about his affair with Nadia had been only the last in a string of disappointments, and by that point she had already pretty much decided to leave him anyways. That had been the last nail in the coffin, though, and the next day she had packed and left for New Hampshire without a single glance back.
And now, here she was, at the headquarters of Bartlet for America, and she had suddenly realized that she was out of her mind.
But there was nothing to be done about it now. There was no turning back after she had practically sold her soul to get here. Anyhow, she had spent her last penny on gas, so she couldn�t really turn back even if she wanted to. So, forcing a smile, she did the only thing she could do. She opened the door, walked in, and began her new life.
Her plan started to go awry the second she walked in, as the first office she came to was occupied by a tall formidable looking woman, who was busy dictating notes to another woman, who was clearly her assistant. Donna frowned. If everyone already had assistants, her plan was going to be shot straight to hell. But the next office was empty, and full of the telltale disarray that marked it as belonging to a man who clearly didn�t have anything even halfway approaching an assistant. She had hit the jackpot.
She glanced around, trying to take in everything while looking like she belonged here. Sam Seaborn, read the plate on the door, and she grinned a little to herself. It even sounded like the name of a sleazy politician. The phone on the desk started ringing then, and she didn�t hesitate a moment before grabbing a legal pad and a pen from the desk and picking up the receiver.
�Sam Seaborn�s office,� she answered, and a gruff voice on the other end barked, �Send him over here!�
She blinked. �Who�s calling, please? And where exactly would over here be?�
There was a pause. �It�s Toby. I need him in my office.� And then he hung up, but not before she heard him mutter, �damn interns, don�t know anything��
She scrawled down the message on her notepad, and turned to the door, wondering how exactly she was going to find Sam to give him the message. It took every ounce of self control she possessed to keep from squeaking in alarm as she saw someone leaning casually on the doorframe.
And this wasn�t just any someone. This was quite possibly the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in person. His dark hair was fluttering a little in the breeze of the overhead fan, and it drifted down into startlingly blue eyes. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off nicely tanned arms. She blinked a little, decided that staring blankly was probably not the best course of action, and said in her friendliest voice possible, �Hi, who are you?�
He blinked a little before replying. �I�m Sam Seaborn. You�re�in my office.�
�Oh!� she said, and she was sure that her grin got a little wider. �I am. This is�your office.� Smooth, Donna. �I�m your new assistant,� she added quickly. �Donna Moss.� She stuck out the hand not holding the legal pad, and he shook it, looking a little confused.
�I have an assistant? I didn�t think we were getting assistants.�
She shrugged. �Well you�ve got one. And�� she glanced down at the paper, �Toby wants you in his office.�
He frowned. �Of course he does. When?�
�Nowish, I would guess. He sounded pretty�� she trailed off.
�Yeah, that�s just Toby. You�ll get used to it,� he assured her, and the phone started ringing again. She glanced over at him for a moment, but he was already gathering folders and heading out the door. She couldn�t believe it had been this easy. No questions, no suspicious looks. It was hard to believe this guy was actually in politics. He definitely wasn�t jaded enough yet.
She picked up the phone, and took another message. Then she hung up, pulled up one of the guest chairs, and started stacking up the folders on the table in the corner. It would just have to make do as her desk for now. She slumped down in the chair and pulled the pile over in front of her. There seemed to be no method to the man�s madness, just papers stuck randomly here and there, notes and half-finished speeches mixed in with budget statements and polling reports.
�What a wreck,� she muttered to herself.
�You think this is bad, you should see my office,� a voice replied. She turned to the doorway and found another man standing there, hanging on the doorframe and looking at her curiously. �Who are you? And where�s Sam?�
�He�s in Toby�s office,� she said, answering his second question first. �And I�m Donna Moss, Sam�s assistant.�
�Sam�s assis�why does Sam get an assistant?� he burst out, letting go of the doorframe and coming into the room. �If anyone needs an assistant around here, it�s�he�s got Bonnie and Ginger already!�
She raised her eyebrows, turning back to the stack of folders in front of her. �So do you ever finish sentences, or do you just interrupt yourself all the time?�
�Oh, I just interrupt myself. And everyone else, as a matter of fact.� He frowned down at her. �Who are you?�
�I�m Donna Moss, Sam�s assistant,� she repeated, staring intently at an unintelligible scrawl of numbers inside one of the folders.
�No, I mean, where did you come from? What are you doing here?�
�I�m from Madison, Wisconsin, and I was working, but now I�m apparently talking myself in circles with you,� she replied, unable to keep a tiny smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth.
He sighed. �How did you end up here?�
�I drove,� she told him, and smiled at the way his forehead wrinkled up in frustration.
He shook his head. �Ok, on second thought? I think I�m glad you�re not working for me. You�re impossible. Do me a favor and wish Sam luck for me. He�ll need it, having you as an assistant.�
She smiled sweetly. �I�ll have you know that I am going to be a valuable asset to this campaign. You�ll be begging me to come work for you soon enough, you just watch.�
He grinned, and a set of completely irresistible dimples appeared on his cheeks. �Yeah, I�ll bet.� The phone started ringing again, and he nodded at it. �Gonna get that?�
She arched an eyebrow at him and stretched over to pick up the phone. �Sam Seaborn�s office,� she said in her most professional voice.
______________
�A hooker, Sam?�
�Call girl, Donna,� he corrected, frowning severely at her. �And it was an accident.�
�An accident?� she asked, a smile beginning to creep onto her face.
�Yes. An accident.�
�Car crashes are accidents, Sam. Tripping and falling down the stairs is an accident. Having sex? Not so much.�
�Aren�t you here to, you know, assist me?� he asked. �You�re not doing a very good job of it at the moment. I come to you for advice, and you mock me? I could have you fired for insubordination.�
�But you won�t,� she told him, smiling as she dropped a stack of files on his desk. �Because I�m invaluable.�
He paused for a moment, then looked up at her and smiled back. �You are.� He wrinkled his nose at the files. �But do you really have to pile all these onto my desk like you actually expect me to do something with them? Can�t you, I don�t know, find someone to shove them off on?�
She sighed. She had been working for this man for almost a year now, and she had hoped that by this point the puppy dog eyes would have no effect on her anymore, but when he looked up at her with that little boy face and those innocent blue eyes, she just couldn�t resist. �Well, what if you do half of them tonight, and I�ll order in Chinese food?�
He frowned a little more. �What if I do a third of them and we go out to get real food afterwards instead?�
She pretended to consider for a moment, then shook her head. �Nope.�
�Oh come on,� he groaned. �I bribe you with food and you still don�t let me off the hook?�
�Slave driver,� came the comment from the doorway, and she turned to glare at Josh.
�Don�t you start,� she warned him.
He grinned. �Well, you can clearly see who wears the pants in this office,� he remarked. �I don�t imagine she�ll let you off to come to the bar with us, will she?� he asked Sam.
�With all these� she gestured towards the pile �that have to be on Toby�s desk by noon tomorrow? I�d say no. And by the way, you don�t have to talk about me like I�m not here.� She waved her arms at him a little to prove her point. �I�m very much in the room.�
�That you are,� said Sam, shrugging regretfully at Josh. �It�s looking like it�s going to be a Chinese food night. And don�t be surprised if you find me dead and buried under a mountain of file folders when you come in in the morning. Have a few beers in my memory, would you?�
�With his sensitive system?� Donna mocked, flopping down in a chair and pulling the first folder off the pile. �He wouldn�t make it past one.�
Josh frowned at her. �Who says I have a sensitive system?�
�Ginger,� she replied with a shrug. He gaped at her a little. �You don�t think your assistant tells us things, Josh? Oh, she tells us things all right�you wouldn�t believe the things she tells us.� She gave him a wicked little smile. �Assistants talk, you know.�
�So I see,� he replied. �Well, I�m off. Have tons of fun with your�� he waved a hand at the reports, �whatever those are.�
Donna stood up and leaned over the desk to pull the Chinese menu out of Sam�s top drawer. She flipped through it for a minute, then turned to Sam. �The usual?� she asked.
�Sure,� he replied absently, grabbing the next file from the stack. �Oh, and get some of those�things. You know, the ones I like?�
�Rangoons,� she informed him, and picked up the phone to place their order.
They hadn�t made much progress by the time the food arrived, and it was a welcome interruption. They sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes, passing the cartons back and forth and flipping idly through the folders. She couldn�t count the number of nights they had sat like this, him with his feet propped up on his desk, her sprawled across the two visitor chairs, while he wrote speeches, or read reports, and she typed up his notes on the laptop, or made him notecards. She had thought that the late nights would kill her, that she would hate having to work this hard for this long, but she didn�t mind, not really.
In the beginning, it had just been the excitement of actually working in the White House that had fueled her on. It was the chance to show everyone back home that she was more than the overlooked little girl she had felt like her whole life. Sure, here she was still Sam�s assistant, but it was different somehow, than anything she had been before. There was something different about their relationship too, compared to the other senior staff and their assistants. She wondered sometimes if it was just because Sam was who he was, or if it was her. Would things be different if she was working for Toby, or Josh? Or would they have the same banter, the same intimacy that seemed to be missing from the other assistants� relationships with their bosses?
Toby was an enigma, even now, and sometimes Donna didn�t know how Bonnie put up with him. He was so prickly, so hard to read, she didn�t think that she could handle working for him. She found herself being secretly glad that she hadn�t walked into his office on that first day. Leo had brought Margaret with him, so there had been no danger of Donna stumbling into that position, for which she was eternally grateful. The amount of information that Margaret was required to keep in her head at any given moment was utterly staggering. Leo was a nice enough man, and Margaret was happy working for him, but Donna had a feeling that he would have made her unbearably nervous if she had been his assistant.
She would watch CJ with Carol sometimes, and wonder what it would be like if she had ended up working for CJ instead too. They seemed to be friends, really, more than anything else, and Donna would often consider how different it would be working for a woman, especially one as fiercely independent as CJ. There was no handling that woman, not like she could with Sam. It probably would have been harder working for her. Sam was easy to control, easy to read.
Josh would drive her up the wall.
She knew it, even just watching him with Ginger, hearing her stories when the assistants would all go out for drinks, or would get together to dress up for one of the gala events. Josh was the kind of boss every woman dreaded. He was a slave driver, really, with completely unreasonable demands and an utterly irresistible smile. The things he got away with because of those dimples, Ginger would lament to the other girls, were absolutely astounding.
Donna thought sometimes that Ginger just didn�t know how to handle him. Josh was the kind of man who needed someone who would fight back, who would put him in his place once in a while. Ginger was feisty enough when she wanted to be, but she wouldn�t usually bring out that side in her dealings with Josh. But she seemed to be managing him well enough so far, and with all the complaining she did about him, Donna could tell that she really didn�t mind the job all that much.
Things were different between her and Sam. They weren�t really friends like CJ and Carol, but they didn�t have the completely impersonal relationship that Toby seemed to have with Bonnie either. They were comfortable together, in a way that she had never been with anyone she had ever worked with before. There was a kind of rhythm to their dynamic, an unspoken understanding between them.
�Donna?� She glanced up to find him looking at her with concern in those impossibly beautiful blue eyes. If Josh�s dimples could get him anything he wanted, Sam�s eyes could get him ten times that. He smiled a little. �I lost you there for a second.�
She shook her head to clear her thoughts, and leaned across the desk to grab a chicken finger off his plate. �I�m back,� she assured him, and they went back to work.
______________
�Stranger, Donna?�
Startled away from her work, she turned to peer up at him questioningly. �What?�
��I�m proud to report that our country is stranger than it was a year ago�?� he read, frowning at her. �You said this was fine to go to him, and it says that? I gave this to the President, Donna. You gave this to me, and I gave it to him, and it says stranger?�
She could feel her face flushing pink, and she silently cursed her pale skin. �It was a typo, Sam. I�ll fix it.�
�Damn right, you�ll fix it!� he said, turning an interesting shade of pink himself. �This is just the kind of stupid mistake that I can�t afford right now. I�m just barely getting over this Laurie thing, and you have me going to the President with these�amateur mistakes!�
�I�m sorry,� she told him hurriedly, rescuing the draft from his waving hands. �I�ll fix it right now.� The Laurie debacle hadn�t been easy on him, and she knew that he had been looking at this speech as his chance for redemption. Maybe if he and Toby could write the best speech ever, he thought, he could get back in everyone�s good graces. She knew that he had never fallen out of them, not really, but he wouldn�t believe that, couldn�t believe that, and she knew he had been kicking himself over the whole thing for months now.
As she sat back down at the computer to get working on it, she glanced up at him. �Was he really upset?� she asked, grimacing.
The ghost of a smile began to tug at his mouth. �Not really,� he admitted. �Well, not at all, actually. He thought it was funny.�
She smiled at him. �Well, you have to admit�it is pretty funny.� She paused. �Also true.�
He finally grinned, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her. She had seen that smile too rarely recently. �Yeah,� he replied, and turned to head back to his office.
�Sam?� she called after him, and he turned back. �It�s a great speech, you know. A really great speech, and he�ll be amazing. Relax a little.�
He shook his head. �I�ll relax when this is over,� he told her, and disappeared into his office.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of paperwork and revisions, and by the time people began to gather for the speech, Donna was completely exhausted. She had changed already, and was just waiting for Sam, so she slumped down at her desk, pillowing her head in her arms, and closed her eyes for just a minute.
It could have been an hour later, or maybe just a few minutes, when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake. She let out a shriek and jumped in her chair, and lifted her head to find Sam standing there with a devilish smile on his face and his tie hanging undone around his neck.
�Scare you there?� he asked as she glared at him. �Can�t have you sleeping on the job, you know. You�ve got important work to be doing.� He illustrated his point by holding up the ends of his tie helplessly.
She rolled her eyes at him. �Why is it that men can never learn to tie their own ties?� she grumbled, pulling herself to her feet.
He smiled. �I can. You just do it so much better.�
�Flattery will get you nowhere,� she told him, poking him lightly in the chest, and then proceeded to prove herself wrong by grabbing the ends of his tie and looping them into a perfect knot. �There you go,� she said, smoothing down his collar. He turned around to peer at his reflection in the window of his office, and nodded. �I look good,� he told her, spinning around to give her that smile that always made her melt into a little puddle.
�You do,� she agreed. �But I look better.�
He laughed and took her arm, then turned her around to look at the two of them in the window. �We look good,� he corrected. Then he gestured down the hall. �Shall we?� he asked, and she smiled brightly at him. �We shall,� she replied, and as they headed off, she smiled to herself. It was going to be a great night for him, and she was glad that she could be there to share in his triumph.
______________
It was Josh returning that shook her from her reverie. She didn�t know how much time had passed. Minutes, hours, days, they meant nothing to her now, except that each second that ticked by was another second off of Sam�s life. She glanced up to discover the operating room empty, except for a single nurse in blue surgical gear, gathering up the bloody instruments from the tray.
She gasped and turned to Josh with panicked eyes. �Where is he? How did I�what happened? Where is he?�
He blinked at her in confusion, until she saw a spark of realization flash across his eyes. Then he was at her side, and his arms were around her. �No,� he said quickly. �No, no, no, it�s not what you think. They finished, that�s all. They wheeled him off to recovery. They just�I guess you fell asleep on your feet here. Nobody knew where you were, we just figured you had come out with him, and�don�t worry. He�s going to be fine.� She lifted her head to look up at him, and her eyes must have asked the question that she couldn�t bring her voice to, because he answered. �He really is. He�s going to be fine,� he repeated, and she knew that he was not just convincing her, he was convincing himself.
�He�s�he woke up,� he continued. �The President and Leo went in to see him, and he�s asking for you, so I came to look for you. I didn�t think you�d still be in here, but�� he trailed off, pulling away to hold her at arm�s length. �You ok?�
She nodded weakly, and for the first time in what seemed like years, she began to believe that she actually was. She took in a deep breath, realizing that an almost physical weight had been lifted off her chest by Josh�s words. �He�s awake?� she asked, grasping on to the only piece of information that had sunk in.
He nodded. �The nurses said you could go in for a few minutes. That�s why I�come on. Down here.� He led her down the hallway, and she had to hold herself back to keep from running. She didn�t have to rush anymore, she told herself. He was going to be fine. He was going to live.
Josh stopped at a door, and gestured to it. �In here,� he told her. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She wouldn�t cry in front of Sam. He didn�t need that, not now. Josh looked at her intently. �You ok to go in there?� She squared her shoulders and nodded, biting her lip nervously. The nurse at the door opened it for her, and she stepped into the room.
Her shoes made a dull echoing noise under the hum of the machines, and she could see him lying there, motionless, lifeless, and her breath caught in her throat. But then his head turned as he heard her footsteps, and she saw his eyes looking at her with a terrible haunted look she had never seen in them before, and all of a sudden her resolve and stubbornness didn�t matter anymore. She burst into tears.
�I�m so sorry,� she whispered, nearing the bed and taking his hand in both of hers, careful not to bump the needles sticking in there. �I should have been there, I should have�� her words choked off with a sob, and she took a moment to collect herself before she continued. �You�re going to be fine. The doctors are saying�� she trailed off, realizing she didn�t know the first thing about what the doctors were saying. �They say you�re going to be fine,� she repeated, and the words brought a thin smile to her face beneath the tears.
�You scared us pretty bad, you know,� she told him, trying to sound severe. �Do me a favor and don�t do that again anytime soon, ok?� His lips curved up into a weak smile, and she grinned even as she continued to cry. �You don�t know how much I�ve been dying to see that smile,� she said. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She untangled one of her hands from his, and reached up to smooth back his hair comfortingly. �You don�t have to say anything,� she whispered. �Not now. Just relax, and enjoy the nice drugs you�re on.�
He smiled sleepily up at her, and his eyes drifted closed. He looked peaceful somehow, even in this stark room surrounded by monitors and tubes, and he looked younger in this moment than she had ever seen him. Not letting go of his hand for a second, she reached over to pull a stool up next to the bed. Thinking he was asleep, she leaned over him and gently kissed his forehead before settling down onto the stool.
�Don�t worry,� she whispered. �I�ll be here when you wake up.�
She felt his hand tighten around hers, and this time she didn�t care as the tears started to fall, spotting the sheet and their entwined hands with the last evidence of her worry and fear.
Sam was alive, and in this moment, nothing else mattered.