Work Text:
"Man, is this place a dump." Sam looked around Josh's apartment with disdain.
"Thanks. The maids have the decade off."
"I'm just sayin', no wonder you're so fried. You know what they say: a disordered domicile is a reflection of the mind."
"Disordered domicile? No one says that; you just made that up."
"Yes, I did,” Sam admitted. “But I'm pretty sure it's still true."
"Do you want something to drink?" Josh asked, heading towards the kitchen.
"Sure."
Josh called from the refrigerator, "I have water and… water."
"How about some water?"
"Coming right up." Josh emerged with a bottle of water and tossed it to Sam before turning to study his suitcase. It was lying open in the hall near the small laundry room. He was a man used to living out of a suitcase; he could usually pack in ten minutes flat. But packing for a vacation? That had him at a loss. "Thanks for coming over; no way I would have had time to pack if we'd gone over everything in the office."
"No problem. Shoot." Sam cleared a spot at the dining room table in order to sit down.
Josh wandered out from the hall, holding a pair of threadbare trunks. They were light blue with a faded, white Hawaiian flower print. An Ocean Pacific label hung by a thread from one of the short-short legs. "Do these still work?"
"Did they ever?" Sam shot back with a look of mock disgust.
"Seriously."
"Fashion advice? I thought we were going over things related to, you know, transition and governing."
"Aren't you equally qualified to do both?" Josh asked wryly.
"Actually, yes. And I can tell those aren't a day under twenty years old… I'd say circa 1984?"
"The fact that you know that scares me."
"Okay, so you haven't had a real vacation since you were… the age of that garment, but I thought your mom had a pool in Florida. Surely you've visited her in the last 20 years?"
"Yeah, I think I had another pair and left them there. Probably newer than these..."
"I would hope so. Throw those in the garbage,” Sam instructed. “Buy new trunks when you get there. Trust me; you're not going to pick up any women on the beach wearing those."
Josh sized them up and then decided that although he wasn't looking to pick up any women, he was looking to impress one in particular. He tossed them in the direction of the garbage, not the suitcase.
"The President-elect has some very… strong ideas about Kazakhstan." Josh got down to business as he shoved a stack of haphazardly folded T-shirts, fresh from the dryer, into the suitcase. "If CJ crawls up your ass about it, just let her blow off steam. Remind the President-elect that he's not in office yet, but at this point I think we're going to have to let him slug it out with the President."
"Okay."
"I probably don't need one of these, do I?" Josh asked, holding up a dry cleaning bag containing a tan-colored business suit.
"No." Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Right. As I told you earlier, Lou Thornton is on board as Communications Director. She knows the campaign staff inside and out; can help you get a handle on everyone. She's good. Really good."
"Looking forward to meeting her… I'm sure I must have seen her on TV during the campaign… is she the one who's got that whole…"
"Whole?"
"The whole angry lesbian thing happening?" Sam asked reluctantly.
"Angry, yes; lesbian… apparently not so much…" Josh shook his head and tried to shake the election eve revelations from his mind. It didn't work. "Which leads me to Otto."
"Which one is Otto?"
"The one… today… with the yelling."
"Oh, right."
"He's young, but a helluva speechwriter. Talk to Lou, of course; look at some of his work and see what you think, then see if we can't get him started writing. He's still a little green to handle an Inaugural address by himself and you're going to be… busy." Josh took one of his own cards from his wallet and scribbled a name and number on the back. "If you think he's going to need help, here's a guy who can help polish."
Sam squinted at it. "Bob… is he any good?"
"The best,” Josh reflected a bit sadly. "Give him a call."
"Okay." Sam put the card into the front pocket of his jacket. "What else?"
Involuntarily, Josh squinted, and his voice took on an unsure, breathy quality. "You… uh… remember Donna Moss?"
Sam just looked at Josh incredulously.
Misreading Sam’s expression, Josh tried to jog his memory. "She was my assistant back when we were in the… uh… White House. Blonde, talks a lot, legs from here to Mexico."
"Josh, I've been gone awhile, but I didn't go through some Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-type thing to get rid of the West Wing years."
"Huh?"
"Jim Carrey, Kate Winslet… where they erase specific parts of the…" He trailed off at Josh's blank look. "When IS the last time you saw a movie?"
"On the… uh… plane back from LA, they were showing something… with someone in it. What's your point?"
Sam snorted and replied dryly, "If you'd gotten the reference, you would realize that I was trying to indicate that of course I remember Donna."
"Oh… good." Josh's voice squeaked a little and he nervously started twisting a pair of Bermuda shorts he should have been folding. "She's… uh… working for us. Worked on the campaign."
"I know. She's great on TV. Stephanie thinks she's funny."
"Stephanie?"
"My fiancée."
Josh paused, letting that register for a second before breaking into a smile. "Samuel and Stephanie Seaborne?"
"Yeah, so?"
"That's a lot of alliteration happening in a very short space." Josh grinned. "Did you fall for her because you knew you wouldn't have to re-monogram your towels?"
"Re-monogram my towels? Who has monogrammed towels?"
"I'd bet all the money in my pocket that you do."
"Okay, maybe. But I received them as a gift," Sam defended, before quizzing in an amused tone, "Do people actually consider monogram issues when choosing a life mate?"
"Just something… someone said to me once." Josh smiled, thinking back to a misdirecting Donna. They really had a lot to talk about. "Unless she's not taking your name?"
Sam shifted in his seat. "She wasn't going to… for professional reasons, actually. But…"
"But…"
"If… and I'm still saying if… we stay in DC, she did mention that she might as well take my name, since she doesn't have a professional reputation already built up here under her maiden name."
"Well, see, that's reason enough to take the job right there."
"Come on," Sam groaned.
"You come on. What man doesn't want his woman to have his name?"
"His woman? That's a little barbaric. It's really astonishing that you're still single."
"Admit it."
"Okay." Sam smiled sheepishly. "It's a plus. But if you repeat that, I’m going to deny it. So you were saying about Donna?"
"Yes, Donna…" Josh repeated, not exactly sure where to go from there. Telling people was rather new. In fact, Sam was the first.
"You want me to offer her a position while you're gone?" he prodded.
"Not exactly. Actually, I think she's going to take a position with the future First Lady."
"Really?"
"Chief of Staff," Josh announced with an unsuppressed grin, and pride in his voice. Now that he'd accepted the idea of her no longer working for him, he had the necessary objectivity to acknowledge what she'd accomplished professionally in the last year. She'd taken an amazing journey and he was proud of her.
"Good for her. That's terrific," Sam enthused before giving Josh an appraising eye. "You sure you're okay with that?"
"What? Why wouldn’t I be?" Josh asked a little defensively. Mostly because it wasn't that long ago that he wouldn't have been okay with it. "It's a great position for her."
"Absolutely, I know. I just remember…"
"What?"
"You were always sort of proprietary when it came to Donna. I would have thought you'd want her working with us."
"I do, I actually offered her Deputy Press Secretary…" He puffed his cheeks out as he exhaled. "But I want what's best for her."
"Very mature." Impressed, Sam nodded, before a concerned expression marred his features. "But we don't lose her right away, do we?”
"I'm not sure when she'll start with Mrs. Santos, but it's not right away."
"Oh, good." Sam exhaled with relief. "While you're gone it'll be nice to have a familiar face around. Someone who can mouth names of the staff when I forget them in meetings."
"Yeah, she's not going to be available for name-mouthing." Josh burst his bubble, but he didn't sound at all sorry about it.
"Why?"
"At least for the next week." Josh said each word carefully, hoping Sam would catch his meaning.
Sam knit his brow together and studied Josh for several seconds. Despite the mental and physical exhaustion from which he was currently suffering, Josh suddenly looked ten years younger. He was biting his lower lip, but his dimples were still out in full force. His hands were clasped behind his back and he was sort of bouncing-- rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes. Finally, the light bulb went on over Sam's head.
"Well, I'll be damned. You do have a life!"
"Trying to get one." Josh stopped trying to suppress his grin and allowed it to spread fully across his face.
"You and Donna? Seriously?" Sam arched one eyebrow at him.
"Seriously."
"Huh." Sam let the notion sink in. "And she knows this isn't a work trip."
"What do you mean?" Josh demanded with a trace of indignation.
"I mean, you're not luring her along with you under the false pretense of this trip having something to do with governing this great nation of ours."
"You think that's the only way I'd get her to go with me?"
"No; if I remember correctly, I think she'd follow you to the ends of the earth. God knows why. It's your ability to… you know, get off your haunches and make a move that I'm questioning."
"I can make a move."
"You can?"
"I can. But admittedly, up until today, all the moves have pretty much been made by Donna," Josh confessed a bit sheepishly.
"Of course. So how long has this been going on?" Sam asked in what could only be described as a teasing, yet fascinated, tone.
Josh glanced at the date on his watch. "About eight days."
At that, Sam choked on the water he'd been sipping. "Eight days ago would have been…"
"Yeah." Josh nodded once.
"Election Day."
"Yes. Although…we did kiss for the first time three weeks before that." Josh paused thoughtfully. "Hey, that was my move. I kissed her first." His voice was triumphant, as if he'd won a contest.
"Yeah. Nine years after you met a woman, you worked up the nerve to kiss her. Impressive." Sam ribbed him, but his tone was good-natured.
In response, Josh picked up a balled pair of socks from his suitcase and threw it at him. "You know as well as anyone it was complicated."
"Because you made it that way." Sam caught the socks easily and then tossed them back into Josh's suitcase. "Seriously though, congratulations. I think that's terrific. I always knew you two were crazy about each other."
"You did?"
Sam shook his head in disbelief. "Josh, everyone knew."
"Everyone?" Josh's jaw dropped open in awe.
"Maybe not everyone. But many, many, many people. I certainly knew."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you knew, too," Sam said matter-of-factly, before conceding, "And because you're not wrong; it was complicated."
"I guess deep down I did know." Josh stared at his suitcase for a few seconds before turning serious and looking back up at Sam. "Do you think I'm going to be able to do it?"
"What?"
"Do this job and have a life." It was a balance he hadn't thought too much about until lately. But the fact that he'd been hit over the head by about half a dozen people in the last day, telling him that he was incapable of that balance, had struck a nerve. He didn't want to be that guy anymore, but deep down, he feared he might not have a choice.
"That's entirely up to you… and that's what you have to remember. You…" Sam pointed at him. "Have to make time. You prioritize. You hire good people and then let them do their jobs. You take a vacation every once in awhile, preferably at least once a year. You come in early, but you actually go home at night. You don't sit in that office waiting for a crisis; you leave and then go back in if you need to. And if you lose perspective, which you inevitably will once in awhile, I'll remind you."
Josh nodded several times, digesting what Sam was saying. The way he put it, it actually seemed doable.
"It's also important to attempt a life with someone who gets it and shares your passion for it," Sam added a minute later.
"Your fiancée gets it?"
"Yeah, I really think she does," Sam answered wondrously, as if it were a truth he was just realizing himself. "In a way Lisa never even tried to."
"Good," Josh replied as he watched his old friend seem to make a revelation or two of his own.
"It helps that she's a dyed-in-the-wool Democrat and during the campaign, had a bit of a political crush on your candidate."
"Our President-elect," Josh corrected humorously.
"You're going to like her, Josh."
"I'm sure I will." Josh glanced at his almost-packed suitcase and thought about the woman with whom he was going away. He added softly, "If there's anyone who's going to get it, it's Donna."
"Very true, she did put up with you for a lot of years."
"Yeah, she really did." Josh met the other man's eye with a look of sincerity. "Thanks, Sam. For coming and staying and the vacation idea… even for the fashion advice."
"You’re welcome," Sam replied genuinely and then motioned to the table littered with the mainstays of Josh's life over the last few days. His laptop and BlackBerry lay among the remains of crinkled coffee cups, Red Bull cans, and antacids of all shapes and sizes. "What about this stuff?"
Josh thought for a second before replying emphatically, “It all stays."
"Good answer," Sam replied and then shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you actually thought I might have forgotten Donna."
Josh admitted sheepishly, "That might have been more about me not knowing how to tell people about us."
"I get that. But still! Me not remember Donna? You know, I told her I was thinking of running for Congress before I told you."
Josh's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Really?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm." Josh looked at him oddly and then shrugged.
"What?"
"On that note…" Josh cleared his throat awkwardly, decidedly out of practice when it came to broaching issues of male-bonding. "I was just thinking… why didn't I know you were engaged?"
"Why didn't I know you were with Donna?" Sam batted the question back into his court.
"In all fairness, it's been eight days and nobody knew what the hell we were doing… least of all me."
Sam nodded in acknowledgement of the statement’s validity.
"It's just… if you get engaged, I want to know," Josh continued, his voice a little rough.
Sam starred at the table a minute and then offered him a half-smile. "You were busy. I was busy."
"Yeah…" Josh nodded. "But that's part of my getting-a-life thing, too. Let's not do that again."
Sam looked at him appraisingly and then smiled brightly. "Deal."