Work Text:
The wind whipped through the small Nashua office as soon as the door opened, causing a few papers to flutter about on mostly empty desks.
“Mail.” The postman announced unceremoniously. “Where do you want it?”
“Over here!” Margaret called, scurrying towards the front of the building to retrieve the stack. Though the bulk of the business mail went to a post office box, they still received a fair amount in the storefront. It was personal items for the senior campaign staff, mostly. Letters from home or important documents that needed a forwarding address.
Margaret flipped through the stack as she fluttered through the mostly empty office, leaving small piles of mail on the desks.
“He’s still at lunch?” She asked as she handed the rest of the envelopes to Donna.
“Yeah,” Donna confirmed, looking up from the memo she was typing. “He should be back any minute.”
“Is he going to bring you something to eat?” Margaret asked eagerly, “because you didn’t want a salad from the cafe earlier and you shouldn’t have to get your own take out when you’re on crutches.”
“I’m fine. Really.” She gave a half hearted smile. She’d grabbed an extra banana before she’d left the hotel’s continental breakfast area that morning. She’d spent all of her money just to get back to Nashua, and even though Josh had put her on salary she wouldn’t see a paycheck until Friday. She’d be okay though.
Things had been strange for the 3 days since she’d been back. He’d hardly missed a beat when he found her in his office, going on about how much work they had to do. But as the day wore on, he seemed to linger beside her for longer amounts of time, almost as though he was waiting for her to say something. She’d asked him on more than one occasion if everything was alright, but he’d simply opened and closed his mouth as though he was perplexed by how to answer the question.
Donna quickly flipped through the mail pieces as she hobbled over to place them on his desk. There was a large envelope from his father’s old firm, one she knew he was anticipating, and one from his mother as well. But she wasn’t expecting to find the unassuming white envelope stamped with the bright red “return to sender” at the bottom of the stack.
Donna stared at the letter that had been addressed to her apartment in Wisconsin, with Josh’s name scrawled in the upper left hand corner.
She paused a moment, unsure of what to do next. He’d written her a letter and sent it to Wisconsin? She contemplated placing it on his desk with the others, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go of it. Donna bit her lip, wondering what it could possibly contain. She took a deep breath and threw caution to the wind, turning the envelope over and carefully tearing it open. It was, she rationalized, addressed to her to begin with.
Unfolding the carefully written letter inside, she began to read.
****
Josh rounded the corner and walked up the block towards the Bartlet for America storefront. It was a particularly blustery April day, and though he had loads to accomplish he found his mind wandering to thoughts of his recently returned assistant. Saying he’d been relieved when she came back was putting it mildly.
He put his head down a bit, shielding himself from the late April wind as he clutched the bag containing the carry out lunch he’d ordered for her after his meeting. He’d popped into the drug store too, picking her up a bottle of ibuprofen for her ankle. He’d immediately fought to put her on salary, but he knew money was tight right now. He’d do what he could to ease her worries in that respect.
There was something lingering inside of him, though. Something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. His relief upon her return was practically palpable, but he realized that it had little to do with the organization of the folders on his desk. But he’d realized that the second she’d left, he supposed.
That’s why he’d written her the letter. It had taken him a few weeks to find the nerve to mail it to her, but after carrying it around in his backpack he’d mustered courage one evening when he’d walked back to the hotel.
And then, like magic, she’d appeared in his life again only a few days later. She’d come back. He was stunned.
They found a rhythm again, but the excitement that bubbled up in his chest when he saw her was soon replaced with uncertainty. She’d never said a word about the letter he’d sent, so he didn’t either. He’d tried to find the words to bring it up a number of times but he never found the nerve.
If she wanted to forget like it ever happened, he could respect her wishes. He’d be her boss and maybe even her friend. And in the process, he’d convince himself that he was crazy to think he wanted more than that. He *couldn’t* want more than that.
He shuffled through the front door of the campaign headquarters and towards his office, his brow furrowed as he lost himself in his own thoughts.
He practically bumped into her as he rounded the corner and made his way to his desk.
She startled a bit, jumping at his presence. It took him a moment before he realIzed what she was reading. The expression on his face, a mix of confusion and vulnerability, gave him away immediately.
“It was returned to sender,” she explained, a little catch in her throat. “It just came to my desk today.”
Josh shifted his weight uncomfortably, almost afraid to look at her. He was stunned then, when she threw her arms around him, still clutching the letter as though it was her most prized possession. He hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace, finally allowing himself to relax a bit.
“Thank you for taking me back,” she told him. “Thank you for wanting me. And believing me. For finding me valuable.”
“You deserve much better,” he whispered as he squeezed her a little bit tighter. He may not have fully understood the depth of everything he felt for Donna Moss, Josh felt his priorities begin to shift in that moment.
Though it would take several more years filled with countless highs and unimaginable lows, he’d show her just how much he meant the words inside of that letter. And so many more.