Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Professor? Professor! Professor Ziegler…"

Toby stopped. Sighed. Pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand and launched into his practice spiel with ease.

"My office hours are Tuesday from 9am until …"

"No, Professor, it's not about your classes. I just … I wanted … "

Toby turned to face the eager young voice that was gaining on him and panting for breath. A tall young man stood before him, black tousled hair falling into dark eyes, a lithe frame swamped in a large navy blue knitted sweater. For a moment he was reminded of a young Sam Seaborn, without the suit budget.

"Is there any chance of a pertinent question being asked quickly, succinctly and coherently?"

"As soon as I... get my breath sir. I'd have been... more cogent... if you'd stopped... when I first shouted."

Toby smiled despite himself. He looked like Sam, but he had a mouth on him like Josh. He was starting to like this kid.

"Professor, we met before. A long time ago. At the White House."

"I met a lot of people when I worked at the White House. You'll have to narrow it down a little."

"It was during the first Bartlet administration. I came to Washington on a Presidential Classroom trip. In 2001…"

The hazy mist started to clear, and now the young man started to look familiar.

"My name's Billy Weston. But your colleague, Mr Lyman called me…"

"...Fred. I remember. I remember that day very well."

"It's a pleasure to meet you again sir."

"And what can I do for you… Fred? What are you, in grad school now?"

Billy smiled. If Professor Ziegler was mocking him, from everything he had learned so far during his time at Columbia, it was a good sign.

"I graduated law school already. Two years ago. I'm working as a research assistant at Barnes and Wills. I help Professor Cobyn with his teaching research."

"Cobyn doesn't take on research assistants."

"He didn't. I'm his first."

Toby started to pay close attention.

"I'm … changing direction. Away from academia. I've been building up a profile in politics. Grass roots level so far."

"In New York?"

"Maryland."

"And what's so special about Maryland?"

"Well, sir, there's a bunch of us starting to feel like Senator Rollins is throwing his weight around. And, well, we hope we might be able to do something about that."

"Senator Rollins has been the Republican Senator for that district for all of ten minutes."

"That's ten and a half too long for our liking."

"I see… and so, for the second time I come to my question. What can I do for you?"

"I was … sort of hoping you might know where I can contact My Lyman. Since you're still in touch with him."

"What makes you think I'm still in touch with Mr Lyman?"

"The photograph of you two together last month at the Bartlet Presidential Library..."

"Huh..."

This kid was good. He had an enviable memory, good political instincts, and now that he'd caught his breath he was asking the right questions. Although not perhaps in the right order.

"Have you spoken to Congresswoman Wyatt?"

"I'm trying to get an appointment through her office…"

"Of course you are."

Toby drifted towards a bench, put down his gladstone bag and started to rummage. He found a pen, clamped it between his teeth and continued to rummage, eventually pulling out a notepad.

"Here…" he scribbled… "Call this number, and say that you want to get an appointment with Congresswoman Wyatt."

"I've not seen that number before…"

"Not many people have… and I don't want to see that being trended, or twitted, or whatever you call it…"

Billy did well to swallow his giggle in time. That was another good sign of self control.

"No sir… Thank you sir..."

"Hang on…" Toby pulled out a sheaf of paper, loosely bound. On the front page, there was a handwritten scribble. He stared at it for a few seconds, blinked rapidly, then turned to face Billy.

"You said you wanted to talk to Mr Lyman?"

"Yes sir."

"You know what happened during the last campaign, right…?"

"Um… yes sir. I was volunteering at the time. In Washington DC."

"DC?"

"I was taking classes at Georgetown."

"So you know."

"Yes sir."

Toby tapped the pen against the sheaf thoughtfully for a few seconds. Then scribbled another number on the fly leaf.

"This number will get you through to Mr Lyman's assistant. But before you call, read this. And if I hear of any of it being anywhere online, or distributed at rallies, I will hunt you down, and you will never work anywhere more exciting than a mail room again. Am I understood?"

Billy was staring at the front page.

"Look at me."

He raised his head and saw, with crystal clarity, the seriousness of Toby's face.

"You will be in the first ten people to read that. And the first to read it without the author's express invitation."

"I understand sir." Billy turned the document so that the front page was hugged inward against his sweater.

"Who put you up to this?"

"Up to what, sir?"

"Politics. Who's your mentor, who talked you into this?"

"Nobody sir. That is … nobody recently. The first people who took any interest in me and what I thought of politics set me on this path years ago, and I've not stopped since."

"And who were they?"

"You. Ms Cregg. Mr Lyman. Mr Seaborn. In the White House mess."

Toby nodded.

"I see. Well, if you need to speak to me again, my office hours are Tuesday 9am until 10.30am and Wednesday 4.30pm until 6pm..."

Billy's face lit into a grin. "Thank you sir."

"Don't thank me yet kid. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

Billy gathered up his stuff and raced off.

Toby pulled out his mobile phone and walked back toward his office. So much for going home. He punched in the number and made a call.

"Hi Huck, it's me. It's Dad. Hi son. How's everything going…? Yeah …? Good, great … listen, is your mother around? I need to talk to her about some stuff…"

Chapter Text

"DONNA!"

Donna fixed her earrings in the mirror and smiled to herself at how some things had just never changed.

"DONNA!"

He was still stomping around downstairs.

"In here…" she called, checking her iPhone and spritzing a perfume.

"DONNA….!"

"Josh, there's no need ..!"

She came out of the room to find him standing outside the door with an endearing grin and a brown paper bag.

"...to shout…"

"I made you lunch. I thought you'd left without it…"

She leaned closer and gave him a kiss. He always looked so wonderfully surprised afterwards that it had never stopped being a reflex reaction. She took the bag.

"That's sweet…"

"Well, y'know, you need to eat… you never eat enough breakfast…"

"You never noticed whether I ate breakfast before…"

"Well I do now. You didn't finish your pancakes."

The constant efforts to make her eat more were a small thing to put up with in return for their greatest joy so far in their marriage. Ten weeks and counting, the physician had said. 71 days in Donna's head. She was sure Josh had an internal timer of hours and minutes running behind his eyes.

"Pumpkin patch, if I promise to eat fruit snacks and biscuits every hour until I see you for dinner tonight, will you let me go to work now…?"

"OK…"

"Good. Now … what do you have on your schedule for today…?"

"You used to know my schedule."

"I used to write your schedule…" Donna was walking away downstairs already. "I have someone else to write mine these days."

"That's true…"

"So?"

"So what?"

"So what are you doing today?" Donna brushed her hair into place in the long mirror next to their coat rack.

"Ummm … phonecall with Hollins from the publishers, then lunch with Sam…."

"Good… are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

Josh fished Donna's overcoat out of the rack and held it for her to put her arms into. Donna stopped and looked at him sharply over her shoulder.

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I will tell him. I promise."

"It's not going to bring bad luck down on us Josh. We're fine."

"Well, I might still, y'know, go outside and turn around three times and spit, to make sure we don't call down the wrath of the thing from on high of whatever, and all that…"

"You do that if it makes you feel better sweetie. What about this afternoon?"

"Oh, um … I have this appointment with a researcher from Columbia."

"Researcher?"

"Yeah … some kid, he called Otto, made an appointment. Said that Toby gave him the number for me."

"That's odd…"

"You're telling me, but I'm sure it's nothing major. Probably just some kid checking a thesis reference or whatnot."

"Hmmm…" Donna had finally reached for her keys and unlocked the door. A car horn sounded outside. "OK. I gotta go…"

"So…"

"So what?"

"Fruit snacks and biscuits every hour?"

"I promise faithfully."

"OK."

"OK…"

They kissed again.

"Give Sam my love."

"Sure thing…"

And she was gone. The door swung closed and he watched her get into the car outside and head away. The house instantly felt quieter for a few seconds, until his pocket chimed. He pulled out his old blackberry and checked the message.

"STILL ON FOR 1PM? S"

It was reassuring to Josh that someone else in his life, other than himself and his mother, sent their text messages in all caps.

"SURE. SEE YOU AT RUBIOS."

He went back to the kitchen and poured himself some more coffee, flicking the television in the corner on to show CNN out of habit. It was nice to be able to drink this stuff while it was still hot, a refreshing novelty even after two years of domesticity. Just like it was nice to still be able to lie in until 7am. Not that those routines would last for very much longer. Just over six months, if everything went according to plan.

He couldn't wait to see Sam. And he did want to tell him the Big News. In fact, he couldn't wait to, even though he was deeply superstitious. He and Donna had waited so long to start a family that they'd both started to privately doubt it would happen, to feel that they'd left it too long. Josh had been on the verge of making peace with that idea when two blue lines on a white stick had blown his mind and world to smithereens in the best possible way.

Just as the 9am news bulletin music started, the front door knocked and then opened.

"Mr Lyman!"

"In here…"

"Morning Mr Lyman…"

Otto stood there in the kitchen doorway.

"Morning Otto. Coffee?"

"Absolutely. Shall we get started…?"

"Go on through. I'll stick on a fresh pot…"

As Otto wandered off towards Josh's study, divesting himself of his coat, Josh was left to ruminate to himself over how much things had changed. Once upon a time Donna used to make his coffee, and fix his schedule, and pester him to eat lunch. Now, he was following her around with brown paper bags and fussing over her breakfast. Once upon a time, Otto used to make him coffee, and fix his schedule, and sort out his lunch orders. Now here he was making coffee for his assistant. Truth be told, he felt like a better man for it.

"And today in Pennsylvania, crowds are gathering to greet President Sullivan as he makes his visit to Harrisburg…"

Josh picked up the remote and firmly clicked the off button. He was having a Good Day. He did not need to hear any mention of President Sullivan while he was having a Good Day.

"OK Otto…" he called on his way through to the study, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and a small plate of biscuits… "What's next…?"

****

"Reservation for Seaborn?"

"Absolutely, come this way sir…"

Sam looked approvingly around the restaurant. He'd not been here in a little while, it was comfortably familiar but still fresh and modern. Crisp white linen, simple silver, the windows lined with greenery, tables filled with successful business people. Just like he was, these days.

"Drink sir?"

"Perrier please … and the wine menu…?"

"Sam!"

He turned to see Josh coming towards him and stood to fold his old friend into an epic bear hug, punctuated with a few masculine slaps on the back.

"Josh … it's good to see you."

"And you, you look great!"

"Come, sit, I just ordered Perrier, but now that you're here…?"

"Uh… Perrier's good for now."

Sam raised two fingers to the hovering waiter with a winning smile. The waiter obliged, knowing Mr Seaborn to be an excellent tipper, even by the standards of this exclusive Washington restaurant.

"So … how've you been?"

"Good … good, we've been really good."

"I read your book."

"The … second one?"

"Yeah."

"What did you think?"

"I think you pulled your punches."

"Yeah, I got over that."

"Really?"

"Yeah … in the … third book."

"You published a third?"

"Not yet."

"But you're going to…"

"Maybe…"

The waiter brought the drinks over and left the wine list with Sam. By old habit, the two men fell silent until he'd finished and left. Too many years of political secrets had left their mark with ingrained habits.

"So what's the hold up? Because if you want me to talk to another publisher…"

"It's not that … Sam … I've got some news. Big News"

"Bigger than a third book?"

"Yeah … it's … news about me and Donna."

Sam sat and looked at his old friend as dismay and horror chased across his face. A second too late, Josh realised he'd not seeded enough detail.

"Oh, God, no… not that. We're, we're good. We're strong. There's no trouble ahead."

"Oh thank God…" Sam's blood circulation resumed again. "I thought you two were about to break all our hearts…"

"No, no no no, nothing like that. What on earth made you think that?"

"Well, you're looking a little rough around the edges, man..."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, but you did ask..."

"Just because I'm not wearing a suit as razor sharp as yours..."

"Josh when was the last time you got your hair cut?"

Josh's hand ran through his sprouting side curls.

"I ... didn't think I needed to. The hairline is in full on retreat now."

"The egg in a grass skirt look is not a good look for you my friend."

Catching his reflection in a distant mirror, Josh took in with fresh eyes the rumpled suit jacket, the sloppy tie, his unruly hair astride his balding head and the rake of stubble across his cheeks and chin. Sam had a point.

"I'll take that under advisement, but listen. I do have news … it is big news."

Josh's face was glowing. Sam suddenly realised that he'd been aiming at the wrong end of the shock and awe spectrum.

"You mean you're…"

"Yeah."

"You're sure?"

"Just over ten weeks…"

"Josh…!"

Sam rose to his feet and came to embrace his friend again. For longer this time. With more genuine feeling than Josh had know since his wedding day, when Sam had stood beside him as Best Man.

"Are we allowed to celebrate?"

"Discreetly … I don't want to tempt the… y'know…"

"Wrath from high atop the thing. I getcha. Waiter?"

Sam discreetly caught the attention of one passing by.

"Two glasses of champagne please…"

Josh grinned. "That's a discreet celebration?"

"Once junior is safely born, we'll order magnums, and spray the place with foam, and get so disgustingly drunk that Donna and Sarah make us sleep in the front garden."

"Ok, so this is discreet."

"You bet it is…" the glasses arrived.

"A toast," said Sam softly. "To the continuation of the Moss-Lyman clan, and good health all round."

Josh couldn't fault it, even from superstition. He raised his glass and chinged the rim.

"How was the trip? The Brussels thing?"

Sam made a face. "You know how these things can be. A UN Delegation might sound like it's got teeth, but it's all about the charm and giving good face."

"Is there any room for getting Germany to back the proposal…?"

The lunch passed smoothly, as then two men chatted about Sam's role as an advocate to the UN on environmental issues and Josh's new career as a political-science writer. Sam lamented his frequent trips to the continent and how they were taking him away from the Democratic cause at home. The party was still reeling from losing the White House, Congress and the Senate in the last three years. The look on Josh's face after five minutes of rambling was sufficient to make him change direction though.

"Have you heard from anyone?"

"Not really. I mean, Matt still calls me once a week or so. And Otto still works for me, so I hear from Lou now and then…"

"They're not still…"

"Not officially, but yeah."

Sam laughed.

"You?"

"CJ called."

"How's she doing?"

"Just great. Jenny's started Kindergarten now, so she's getting back into the business a bit."

"Where?"

"Emily's List, in California."

"I thought she'd quit Politics completely. How did things pan out with Frank Hollis?"

"Pretty well, but I think she wants to cut down the international travel for a while. Danny's got a job writing for HBO, so he's in New York a lot right now. If that pans out, they might take a break from California and come back out to the east for a while."

"Makes sense."

"She asked after you. She saw Helen Santos at the big event in LA last week."

"That's nice."

"Josh..?"

"Hmmm?"

"When are you going to get up off the bench?"

Josh said nothing, sipped his water, as the waiters came to clear their plates away.

"Is that why you wanted to see me?"

"Not really, but it's the only question that hasn't been asked."

"I told you Sam, I'm done. I'm through. I'm out the locker room."

"The Democratic Party needs…"

"The Democratic Party…" Josh spat the words out, "Need to put their house in order before they ask anything else of me."

Sam flinched. This was more serious than he'd realised.

"They made mistakes Josh."

"I know. And it cost us dear."

"We're all reeling."

"I've … I've just about stopped reeling Sam. I've just got my feet on the floor with enough strength to stand up. I'm getting my life back together. I'm going to be a father… We didn't know if we could, you know, Donna was adamant about waiting until I got better, and she was right, but we thought we'd left it too long and now…? I've got more…"

Josh sighed. He couldn't make himself say that he had more important things to do, but it hung in the air and was true for him personally.

"I know."

"Do you though?"

"I do. I just … I don't want that to be the end of your story. It made me sick. Angry sick. And I'm not done being furious about it yet."

The face that looked at Josh was the same one that had hovered anxiously around his hospital bed at George Washington hospital.

You went to New Hampshire. We both did. You came and got me remember?

"I can't keep being mad Sam. It ate me up. I gotta let it end. But I think I'm done. So done. Deep fried done."

Sam knew when to quit his battles.

"So what's on your cards for today?"

"Back to the hill. Meeting with the new Secretary of Energy."

"Hawkins, right?"

"Yeah. What about you?"

"I gotta get back soon, I've got this kid coming to see me at 3 o'clock, from Columbia. Toby set him up to come see me…"

"What about?"

"I dunno… probably just, checking sources for a thesis or something. It's probably nothing, but he's coming a long way to see me, so I should get there and not be late."

Sam smiled to see the pleasant courtesy which his old friend now had time to allow for in his life.

"Call me next week yeah? Can I tell Sarah? The news?"

"Absolutely. Donna would love to hear from her."

"We'll get something up. Dinner one evening."

"Sounds great."

The two men parted with a handshake, rather than a hug. Josh felt embarrassed by the spurt of emotion, and Sam felt badly for having pressed the issue. But it was nothing that a bit of time and space wouldn't heal.

"Take care of yourself, you hear?"

"You too. Don't forget, give me a call…"

"I won't."

As Josh climbed into his cab and headed off, Sam pulled out a mobile phone to make a call from the back of his own.

"Where to, sir?

"Capitol Building please…"

"Hi it's me. Hi. Yeah, I just spoke to him… No. Yes, I tried, but the answer's no, I didn't even get close enough to the question. He's not ready, Will. I wouldn't. Yeah. I don't know what it will take, probably something neither of us can predict or arrange, but you'll probably have to count Josh out of the next set of races, as candidate or puppet master. Yeah. OK, gotta go, I'll talk to you soon. Give my love to Kate."

The streets rolled by and Sam sat quietly, wondering how on earth he was going to convince Josh to get back into the political game. One thing was absolutely sure; if the Democratic Party didn't find their feet soon, there was no way they were going to hit the ground running in the upcoming midterm elections.

Chapter Text

Billy sat, nervously twitching his feet, fiddling with his satchel. He looked around, noted every window, looked down at the floor, then looked back up at Otto, who was still busy furiously typing at the laptop on the smaller of two desks.

Otto sensed that he was being looked at and glanced up to meet Billy's stare.

"I'm sure Mr Lyman won't be much longer."

"You said that at ten past three."

"And I'm saying it again now."

"Should I just go, and …"

The front door opened.

"OTTO!"

"In here Mr Lyman…"

"The damn cab driver took me to the wrong address again and…"

Josh came in and dumped his overcoat over the back of the leather swing chair next to the desk.

Billy stood up.

"Hi…"

"Hi."

Josh looked toward Otto.

"Three o'clock?"

Josh looked down at his watch and caught up with himself.

"Yes! Three o'clock, you're the… kid who spoke to Toby Zeigler, right…?"

"Yes, that's me…"

Josh took a long minute during their handshake and looked Billy straight in the face for the first time.

"Have we met?"

"Um… no. That is… not really."

Josh stopped for a minute and realised what was in Billy's bag.

"Where did you get that…"

"Mr Zeigler gave it to me."

"Toby … gave that to you?"

"Yes."

"And you read it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"He told me to. To read it. Before I called."

"Who are you…?"

"Billy Weston."

Josh still looked confused.

"Are you sure we haven't met?"

"Just once. A long time ago. I was just a teenager, at the time."

"You still look like a teenager."

"I'm … 29, now."

"Huh. So … who ARE you?"

"You… called me Fred. You said I made your list."

The penny finally dropped.

"Presidential Classroom."

"Yeah."

"You were the kid in the mess."

"...yeah."

"And Toby gave you that to read?"

Billy started smiling.

"Yeah."

"Otto…?"

"Yes, Mr Lyman?"

"Could … you get us some coffee?"

Otto looked up and saw Josh's face. He hadn't seen that spark of interest and light in his employer's expression since … well, since the days of the first Santos for America campaign.

"Sure Mr Lyman…"

Otto got up and left, as Josh motioned for Billy to sit down, as he took a seat opposite.

"So … Toby sent you."

"Yes."

"Why did Toby send you?"

"Well, mostly because I asked if he knew how to get in touch with you."

"You were looking for me?" Josh was oddly touched.

"Yeah."

"Why…"

Billy took a deep breath and looked unsure of where to start.

"That's a huge question."

"So, start with the first bit."

"I wanted to ask for your help."

"To do what?"

"To run for office."

"I don't run for office."

"No … for me. For me to run for office."

"I don't do that anymore either."

Billy sat quietly for a moment.

"I'm sorry if I wasted your trip, but…"

"If that's really true, then that's a tragedy."

"You don't know the half of it kid."

Billy picked up the manuscript.

"I know more than maybe ten other people in the world right now. Because I read this. And for other reasons. And I still came to ask."

Otto came in with the coffee. Josh noticed that Billy had the same political instinct as Sam, to fall silent when an unknown party came into the room.

"Thanks Otto…"

"Mr Lyman, I gotta go out and take care of some other errands today, would now be a good time?"

"Now would be a really great time. In fact, let's say we're done for the day, alright? I'll see you tomorrow."

"OK, thanks Mr Lyman."

The front door clicked shut a few minutes later, and a cloud unaccountably lifted from the room.

"You look like you've got questions."

"I got a whole heap of them. And I might keep coming back to one."

"Which is?"

"Will you help me…?"

"Help you what?"

"Run for office."

Josh sighed.

"The answer's still no."

"Well then … will you at least tell me why? Because that's the first thing I've ever heard you say that doesn't make sense. And I don't want to live in the world where Josh Lyman doesn't make any sense."

The kid's face looked heartbroken. Just as scared and lost as he had looked with his classmates on the day when the White House had crashed into a lockdown on their visit to Washington.

"Fred..."

"What?"

Josh smiled.

"Ask your questions…"

****

"So… you weren't the campaign manager, for the second Santos campaign."

"No … far from it."

The conversation had drifted into the kitchen, where Josh had now rolled up his sleeves and was busy chopping onions, while Billy perched on the bar stool.

"I wanted to be…" Josh dumped the onions in the frying pan, where the whoosh released an impressing cloud of steam and flavour.

"But you were needed as Chief of Staff."

Josh nodded, intent on his stirring.

"Why?"

"Why? We were pulling out of Kazakhstan, for one thing. Then there was the recession to deal with. The incompetence from Sellner, who just couldn't get any of our legislative agenda through the house, especially after we lost the Majority in '09…"

Billy nodded. He'd been at Graduate School during that campaign, he'd volunteered as a law student for observation duties at the precincts.

"Do you… want…"

Josh pulled a bottle of wine out from the fridge and gestured to a glass. "You're not driving are you?"

"No … no I got a cab … yes please, Mr Lyman…"

"Will you, just, call me Josh? Please? I'm not in politics any more."

He handed the glass across the kitchen island.

"Otto calls you Mr Lyman."

"Yeah, well, Otto … is Otto, and he's been working for me since he was about twelve years old. Or at least, it feels that way."

"So it's a habit?"

"It's more like he's terrified in the dark depths of his soul about what will happen to his world if he stops. Cheers…"

The two men chincked glasses of wine.

"So… you were battling in the White House?"

Josh nodded.

"Against everything. Literally. I mean … it was years ago now, and I don't know how much you remember because it barely made a dent in the outside world but..."

"I remember what happened, at the Kennedy Centre."

"You … you do…?"

"I was there."

"You mean, you saw the footage?"

"No … I mean … I was there. My sister was playing in the orchestra. I saw what happened. You were taken ill, during the performance. Right near the end."

"I… uh … yeah. I was."

"What happened?"

"Well … you remember a while before you guys came to the Presidential Classroom trip, we had … uh … a shooting? At Roslyn?"

"I remember. You got shot. You told us in the mess."

"Yeah. I got shot. And uh … I keep, um … I have this odd reaction. To music, sometimes. Not always, just sometimes."

Billy nodded, his face sympathetic.

"I get it."

"I doubt that you do…"

"Um … Mr Lyman…"

"Josh…"

"Josh … you're not the only person in the world who's ever been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

Josh looked at Billy sharply, with fresh eyes.

"You…?"

"Me … and my girlfriend, Karen. Me because, well … I was a kid on a trip to the White House, and suddenly this big group of secret service guys in suits with guns swept in, and sealed the building, and we were all shut into a room, and I couldn't call my Mom, and we didn't know what was happening, but we couldn't leave and… I was just a kid, Josh. I was in high school and I thought the world was ending, that we were under attack by North Korea or something."

Josh nodded, but still looked a little sceptical.

"So every time I saw a guy in a suit, I freaked out for a while… it took a long time to process all that."

"And your girlfriend? Was she one of the kids there at the White House?"

"No, we met when we were grad students."

"And…?"

"She went to school at Kansas State."

Josh put down the glass and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Billy, I'm sorry, I…"

"No it's OK. You didn't know. But you do now."

"Is she OK, was she injured?"

"No … but her friend was shot dead trying to escape across the basketball court when that lunatic broke in with an AK 47 and started shooting everyone in the gym. Karen hid under the bleachers with some others. One of them got injured but the shots missed her. She was one of the lucky ones. In a way."

Josh took a deep breath. Twenty seven students had died in the Kansas State University Massacre. Dozens more had been injured. It had been the worst gun related tragedy the state had ever known.

"She went to therapy, and, when we met, we both understood what it was like to be freaked out and locked in your own head. So I get it. A little bit better than most."

"So you understand that when I was listening to the music…"

"You weren't hearing the music at all. I get that now. At the time, it just looked like you'd had, I dunno, a fit or something."

"Well, it was the end of me. My inability to deal with music. That was it, that was all it took. In that one performance, I was done for."

"No you weren't."

The feminine voice stopped Josh in his tracks. Donna walked in.

Josh looked up quickly.

"How long had you been…"

"Just a few minutes. But I heard what you said. And it's not true. You weren't a failure because of one piece of music, Joshua. And if that's what you truly feel we need to schedule some serious conversations."

"Billy, this is my wife, Donna…"

"Donna Moss. I remember…"

Billy stretched out to meet shake her hand. Donna looked confused.

"This is Billy. We knew him as Fred. From Presidential Classroom."

"You told me that nothing happens on the list."

Donna tilted her head, and then suddenly remembered, her face lighting up.

"You! You were the kid, with the others…"

"Yeah."

"What are you doing here?"

"Trying to convince Mr Ly …. I mean, Josh, to help me run for office."

"Well…" Donna set down her bag. "I can see this is going to take some time. Let me go change my shoes…"

"Dinner's going to be a while yet."

"So long as there's loads. I'm starving. Billy, you will stay for dinner, won't you?"

Billy, dazed, was nodding his head but unable to speak for a few minutes.

"Good." Donna turned to leave, before Billy found his voice...

"I just meant to come for a meeting, I didn't mean to intrude, Mrs…"

"Don't worry kid…" Donna patted him on the arm. "Some of this conversation has been coming for a long time."

Josh focused on stirring the chopped tomatoes into his bolognese, and passed the bottle across to Billy.

****

By the time Donna returned, Josh had just finished demonstrating the finer workings of his pasta making machine to Billy, who was doing his best to look fascinated.

"Josh, leave the poor kid alone. Come over here and talk to me Fred, I'm not allowed to drink for medical reasons, I need stimulating conversation…"

Gladly, Billy left and took his seat at the kitchen table with Donna, now charmingly dressed in a sweater and slacks with a pair of rabbit shaped slippers on her feet. With her makeup removed and her hair scooped into a ponytail she looked years younger, not at all like the extremely high powered political operative that she had become in the last few years.

"It's Billy, actually."

"You might have to deal with the nickname, but know that it is said with love. So, you've come to talk Josh out of retirement?"

"If I can."

"Who sent you?"

"Toby sent him..."

"Go back to your spaghetti, pasta boy, we're talking about you now…"

Josh, embarrassed, returned to his machine.

"So you read Josh's new book." Donna nodded to the manuscript on the breakfast bar next to Billy, reached for her bottle of sparkling water and poured it into a wine glass. Billy looked confused.

"I'm not allowed to drink alcohol, I can still use the grown up glasses. Now. Answer me. You read it."

"You didn't ask me a question."

"You don't answer questions that are implicit?"

"Not if I can help it."

"Good," Donna smiled over the rim of her glass. "You'll go far. So I'll be explicit. What did you think?"

"I think that there's a big piece of the story missing. Even moreso now."

"Start with what you know…"

"I know that … Mr Lyman was Chief of Staff for President Santos."

"Go on…"

"I know that Mr Lyman was taken ill at the performance at the Kennedy Centre, that night when President Santos gave his big speech about protecting funding for the arts, as part of his campaign."

"You know that from the book?"

"I know that because I was there. My sister played in the orchestra that night."

"Go on…"

"I know that Mr Lyman has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"Yes he does."

"So he was taken ill, and couldn't be in Chief of Staff any more... and after that there were some big changes, and because of them the campaign and presidency lost direction and floundered, and so they couldn't bring off the re-election."

Donna's lips thinned and the muscles around her eyes seemed to strain. Billy was afraid he had upset her.

"Have … have I said something wrong?"

"No. No you know your official history. Very good."

Donna turned to Josh.

"Because that is the official story, isn't it…"

"Donna…"

"This is the version you were going to put out? This … watered down bed time story? You promised me you wouldn't pull your punches in the next one..."

The penny dropped.

"Oh God… you weren't one of the ten people."

"Ten people?"

"Professor Ziegler said when he gave me the book that there were less than ten people in the world who had read the manuscript…"

Despite the circumstances, Donna was impressed. This kid was good.

"Donna, I didn't want to…"

"Joshua Lemon-Lyman," Josh flinched at the odd nickname for a reason that Billy couldn't fathom "you and I will continue this particular strand of discussion later sweet cheeks. But for now…"

Donna turned back towards Billy. "There's a lot more to this, a whole lot more. Let's just say that much for now. Josh didn't fall to pieces because of one concert. That's not what happened. His … illness, was built up over a long time, and what happened afterwards scuppered the Democratic Party. We still haven't recovered, and unless we can get more young people like you on board, quite honestly? We won't. You said you want to run for office?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, one … don't ever Ma'am me again. And two … tell me all about why. And where. And what you're wanting to do."

"I hadn't agreed to help yet…"

"This isn't just about you," Donna shot Josh a look. "This is about him. And even if you don't decide to help him out... I might... "

For the first time in hours, Billy felt a little flare of hope spark deep down in his chest.

Chapter Text

"Will you stop fussing with that … come here, you've made a mess of it…"

Karen forcibly grabbed Billy by the shoulders and turned him to face her, wrestling his tie from his grip and putting it into smooth and competent order.

"Why are you so nervous about this? You've had meetings with members of congress before…"

"Yeah but … I dunno, these last two days, I feel like things are really taking off now, and this is, like, the next big step…"

"It's one step. An early step. Look, are you sure you don't want me to come with you...?"

"No, no, you've got that meeting with Dawlish, you need to keep that. I'll... I'll manage."

There was a knock at the door to the tiny back office room… "Billy? She's here…"

Donna peeped around the corner. "Hi Fred."

Karen turned to Billy sharply. "She does know who you are right?"

"Yeah, she knows … I'll explain later. Hi Donna…"

"Let's go…"

They climbed into the car outside and set off. Billy felt more like a kid in his first grown up suit at a wedding than ever. He'd not felt so out of his depth since his first day at law school.

"Don't be nervous."

"I'm not nervous."

"'Course you're not."

"OK… Alright, so I am nervous, I've been trying to get this appointment set up for weeks, and this is the day when I find out whether the longest serving current congresswoman in my state thinks I've got a point, or … or whether she'll laugh me out of the room."

"Excellent men and women have been laughed out of every room in that building and gone on to prove the laughing faces wrong."

"But I don't want her to laugh at me, she's one of my heroes…"

Donna felt a small warm glow in the centre of her stomach. If the world allowed more articulate and bright young men like Billy to grow up and feel proud and confident enough to announce that female politicians were their heroes, there was hope for this brave new world yet.

"You know who was my hero, when I worked at the White House?"

"Who? CJ Cregg?"

"Oh, … oh, well, she's my friend too, you see, we used to get drunk together at her apartment in… anyway, there was this one time that … but you don't need to know that. No, my hero was Doctor McNally."

"Nancy McNally?"

"Oh yeah. She used to walk through the building, into the Oval or on her way to the Situation Room, wearing heels and pearls and just order the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs to do as he was told. Admiral Fitzwallace was terrified of her. She was a force to be reckoned with."

"She used to order Admiral Fitzwallace around?"

"Apparently she called him Admiral Cissy-Mary once."

Billy was laughing, scandalised and intrigued.

"I can't believe these people behaved this way."

"Billy… take a good look at your friends. The ones you are running this campaign with. If all goes well, in forty years, they will be 'these people', as you put it."

"When you put it like that…"

"You'd better start choosing carefully."

"That's a huge responsibility."

"You're talking about running for Senate and you only just figured that out? Better now than later I guess. We're here."

They hurried down the immaculate, white, shining corridors of the Capitol to find the office where they had an appointment. Donna greeted the secretary outside the door by name, clearly an old friend.

"Go right in, she's expecting you…"

"Congresswoman Wyatt … "

"Donna … it's been too long.."

Andrea Wyatt was still, in her fifties, a fabulous looking woman. Her hair was now streaked with grey, swept into a chignon rather than worn over her shoulders like in her first congress photograph, but the suit was as sharp and well cut and her face as lively and intriguing as ever.

"So you must be Mr Weston…"

They shook hands and she smiled at him.

"I've heard a lot about you."

"You … you have…?"

"Indeed. In the space of three weeks I've had calls from my campaign manager, one of my oldest friends and my ex husband. All wanting to talk about you."

"I'm hoping that's a good thing."

"That entirely depends on our next conversation. So. You want to run for Senate?"

"Um … well…"

Andie, unlike Josh and Toby, had long since learned the art of listening and letting people untangle their tongues. Now, she followed suit, with the slightest lift of her finger, indicating that Donna should not interrupt when she showed signs of speaking.

"To be honest Congresswoman Wyatt, I've been hoping that someone else would run for Senate."

Andie and Donna turned to each other in surprise.

"You don't want to be a Senator?"

"I've not grown up dreaming of being one. My family aren't that political. I wanted to go to Law School, maybe go into the judiciary eventually, actually make the laws to keep people safe. I mean, I volunteered on campaigns since high school to get credit for college applications, and then to get to know people who could help me get into law school, but this wasn't what I wanted to do."

"Then … why are you doing it…?"

"Because nobody else is stepping up!"

Billy sounded angry for a moment, but in the next breath he managed to rein in his passions and continued more steadily.

"I mean, I've been waiting and waiting since last election night for someone from the Democratic Party in Maryland to step up and say, no, we don't want a Republican Senator who's against LGBT rights, who would vote against Gay Marriage, who would defund Planned Parenthood and vote against providing healthcare for people who got sick as children… I've been waiting for someone to say that we need to start right now, trying to beat this guy. He's … he's young, he's articulate, he could be a front runner for that seat for ages if we let him be, and we're letting him be. We're not fighting back."

Andie steepled her fingers together to stop her hands from shaking.

Billy continued.

"And for ages, I've waited to see who I should get behind, and for someone to announce that they're running the show and that's not happened. I wanted to know whose campaign I should volunteer for next. Nobody's stepped up. Nobody's said anything. At least not in any room I've been in, or on any channel I've been watching. And I'm thinking now that maybe I'm only the one who's thinking it. And … if I am, then maybe it's up to me. And… I can't wait any more for someone from my parents' generation to come to the rescue."

Andie turned to Donna.

"Did Josh write any of that?"

"Not a word. The kid came to see him two days ago to ask for help. Apparently Toby gave him the number to get him through to you."

Andie turned back to face Billy.

"You truly believe what you just said?"

"Yes Ma'am I do. And … if I'm wrong, or you want to laugh me out of the office, I'll go now."

Andie went to rummage through her desk for a piece of paper, covered in handwritten notes. She handed it over to Billy.

"I had a breakfast meeting with Dick Mallory this morning."

"The Democratic State Chair?"

"Yes. These were my notes."

Billy scanned over the piece of paper, headed with Senator Rollins' name. Written at odd angles there were familiar issues, some scribbled, some with neater annotations. About the importance of LGBT rights. About funding for Planned Parenthood. About healthcare coverage. At the centre was a large angry note circled repeatedly in red ink, followed by several exclamation marks.

"Why are we not trying to beat him?!"

Andie was on the telephone. "Jess, could you set up an appointment with Mr Mallory for me? Yes another one. Today if he's got time. Sooner the better. Thanks."

She hung up the phone. Billy met Andie's gaze.

"I wrote that. About Senator Rollins."

"Well … I'd like to try and beat him Ma'am. There's a few of us who've gotten tired of him throwing his weight around."

"Alright. Two things. One, don't ever call me Ma'am again. And two … let's start talking about how we're going to do it."

An hour later, Andie's secretary finally cracked and couldn't put off the growing onslaught of calls. Andie reluctantly drew the meeting to a close.

"We'll meet with Dick the day after tomorrow. Bring one or two people with you, people who are likely to play a big part in your life for the next year or so, the ones who are getting tired of Rollins and his attitude."

"Are you sure?"

"If this is your campaign, you want your voices around you. Don't get bossed around by your parents' generation." Andie smiled as they shook hands.

"Do you need a ride back, Billy?" Donna gathered up her handbag and shrugged back into her coat.

"No, thank you, I can get a cab, I've taken up way too much of you time…"

"OK well, take care, and keep in touch, you hear?"

"Yes Ma'... yes Donna."

Donna smiled as he left.

As the door closed, Andie turned to face her.

"Will Josh do it?"

"I want him to. But I don't know."

"I read the book."

"Josh gave it to you?"

Andie snorted. "Hell no. I swiped Toby's copy when he came over for dinner with the kids and speed-read it."

"Huh."

"What did you think?"

"Hard to say."

"Why so?"

"Because I haven't finished reading it." Donna patted her bag reflexively.

"...what?"

"Josh sent copies to Toby and Matt before he gave it to me. He only gave it to me after Billy came to see him. And that took some convincing."

"You've not read it?"

"I've almost finished."

"Are you going to finish it?"

"Today. And then we'll need to talk."

Andie sighed and sat down.

"Donna … I wasn't there, and I don't know Josh as well as the rest of you, but even I can see there are gaping holes in his story. I don't believe he got sick so quickly. I don't for one moment think it was one badly timed and judged piece of music. I don't see how that could have happened."

"That's not what happened."

"I never thought it was. So what did? And what is it that Josh can't see? Or won't look at?"

"A lot. Andie, an awful lot."

"Do you need to talk about it?"

Andie pushed a button on her phone to silence another incoming call. Her secretary's suppressed scream of frustration was audible through the closed door.

"I do. But it's in hand. My next meeting's on that subject, in fact."

Andie nodded.

"So long as you're not carrying too much around on your own back."

For a moment, Donna was tempted to tell her exactly what she was carrying, but she didn't want to think about the baby in the middle of this conversation. Not here. Not now.

"I have to go.."

"My door's open. My phone's on. Just … any time. OK?"

"Thanks Andie."

"And Donna? Toby might say all the wrong things sometimes, I mean, God knows I know that, but he's a good listener too."

Donna smiled at Andie and was gone.

Chapter Text

The knock at the door was expected, but still startled him. For the past hour or so, his head had been in another time and place.

"Donna…"

"Oh Sam…"

"Come on in…"

Donna saw the manuscript open on the coffee table.

"You got the copy?"

"Yeah."

"Have you finished it?"

"Almost…"

"Me too…"

"Coffee. And let's finish first. Then we can talk."

For the next ten minutes, companionable silence reigned as the two old friends read through the last few dozen pages of Josh's manuscript, sipping coffee in the Sam's front room.

Donna finished first, putting it to one side with a deep sigh.

Two minutes later, Sam caught up.

"So what did you think…?"

"Josh promised me he wasn't going to pull his punches in this one. He sat right opposite me in Rubio's not two days ago and said that."

"And…"

"I think the only person he's throwing punches at is himself."

Donna put her head in her hands. As ever, Sam had taken all the tangled words from her head at this sad, sad situation and put them into one beautifully trimmed phrase of clarity. He'd never lost that talent.

"I didn't realise. I didn't see that he was still beating himself up for what happened to him."

"For what was done to him."

"Precisely. I thought … when we talked, when we talked about therapy, he spoke so much about forgiveness and I see now that he was trying to forgive himself, and he was never at fault. Never. Not once."

"What do we do Sam?"

"First … we need to make sure he knows we're on his side. Because if I know Josh, he'll still think it's him against the world."

"I didn't help with that… I was so angry when I found out that he'd sent out that book without letting me read it, I probably made a big mess and…"

"Shhh shhh shhh…" Sam came over and hugged Donna, an enormous brotherly embrace. "Come on… let's go now."

"Go now?"

"He's at home, right?"

"Yes, but…"

"Screw it…" Sam was already shrugging into his overcoat. "We don't need to be here. We need to go see Josh. Right now. Because the longer you sit here, the worse you will wind yourself up, and the more angry I will get with everyone who isn't you, me or Josh in that book."

"I didn't tell him I was coming to see you…"

"He won't mind. Come on. Let's go."

Half an hour later, Sam's car drew up outside Josh and Donna's house. Josh was in the study, sifting through notes and pulling together his next draft for a chapter in a political science text book. Otto was out, gone to collect several volumes from the library of Congress which Josh needed for research.

The doorbell rang.

For two seconds, Josh considered leaving it, then wondered whether Otto just didn't have a free hand to reach his set of keys.

He stood blinking in the light as his wife and best friend stood on the doorstep.

"Can we come in…?"

"You… have keys…both of you have keys... "

"We didn't want to burst in on you…"

"Why would … how could you … what is happening here?"

Donna stepped forward and hugged her husband tight. As a reflex his arms went around her, but he still blinked at Sam over her shoulder like a confused and rumpled owl.

"We read the book," said Sam, softly. "We need to talk Josh."
****

A few minutes later, the three of them were sat in the den, with a fresh round of coffee and comfort food to hand. Donna didn't often allow donuts in the house, having worked hard to break Josh's junk food addiction after he stopped working at the White House, but Sam had insisted that a stop at Krispy Kreme might break a considerable amount of ice for this conversation.

"So … you both finished it?"

"We did."

"What's … what's wrong, did I punch too hard at people?"

"Josh…" Sam took charge, for which Donna was quietly grateful. "The only person you punched too hard in this was yourself."

"What happened to you wasn't your fault, Josh."

"I know."

"Do you?"

"Yeah … I know … it was the music, that did it."

"Josh?"

"What?"

"The music was just a weapon."

"An unexploded grenade more like."

"No." Sam shook his head. "More like a sniper rifle."

"But ... it wasn't like anyone could have known."

Sam looked at Donna.

"You told him, right? He knew?"

"Knew what…?"

"Of course I did…"

"Then why doesn't…"

"Told me what…?"

"... remember what happened…"

"Danny called, he told both of us…"

"Hey...told me what?"

"And we talked about it… but then the paper didn't…"

"But you've never spoken about it since then…"

"Hey!"

Josh raised his voice, trying to interject into a conversation that was happening on another level to his comprehension. His ears were ringing, unpleasantly.

"Told me what?"

"Josh what happened to you wasn't an accident. It wasn't a side issue. It wasn't something that came out of nowhere. It was a deliberate hit."

"The… the… music, the 1812, the cannons, it just set me off..."

"Yes. And they knew it would. They made sure it would. They gave you the wrong set list."

"Who did…?"

"The people behind Sullivan. The people behind the Republican Party. Josh … they engineered everything. For years. To take you out of this game. To undermine Santos's re-election. They deliberately set everything up to undermine you, to make you sick. They triggered you, tried to destroy you…"

"Wha…"

"Josh … you weren't to blame for what happened to you."

"Did … did you know this?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me…?"

Sam turned to Donna.

"I did tell you, Josh. I did tell you. As soon as we found out, I told you. I thought you knew, I thought you understood..."

A memory stirred in the back of Josh's mind as a conversation exchange continued between Sam and Donna, somewhere under water. It felt like an itch, something that was trying desperately to escape. He had an image in his head, of Donna sitting in a chair, a bit like the one they had now, but not quite the same, the colour was different and…

"...Josh?"

He was back in the room, with Sam, and Donna. He didn't think he'd left, but he was back again.

"Are you alright, buddy?"

"Um … yeah … yeah, I…"

"Because you don't look so good."

"I just … I can't remember…"

Donna had sat in a chair, like that, but not like that, and held his hand. She'd been crying, she wanted to hold his hand, but he wanted to wipe the tears from her face and she wouldn't let him, she was saying he had to listen to her, but he hated seeing her crying…

"Sam, I don't think that he can…"

Sam put down a glass of water in front of him on the glass table. The harsh glass on glass sound made Josh jump a little.

"Go. Make the call. Now."

Josh hadn't even realised that Sam had left the room, but now he was sitting next to him, without his jacket on. He wasn't used to that, he usually saw Sam in restaurants where they wore suits and...

"Josh…"

Sam put a hand on his shoulder.

Josh turned to face Sam.

"Josh … I think you're having an episode. OK, just listen to me, Donna's gone to call Doctor Reinfield. She'll be back in a few moments."

"Why am I having an episode…?"

"Because you're remembering something. And I think you've been trying to remember for a while…"

Remembering something…

"I'm remembering…"

"You were the focus Josh. You weren't the weak link. You were the capstone. Drink some of this."

Josh felt clammy, his forehead was damp. The water was refreshing. Cool. Sweet. Donna came back into the room and sat on the foot stool in front of him.

"Josh…?"

"Hmmm?"

"Josh, Doctor Reinield is coming over, but she says you're to take one of these now…"

Donna shook out a tablet from a small brown bottle.

"The … yellow one?"

"Yes, the yellow one."

"It'll make me … sleepy…"

"I think that's a good thing right now…"

In the distance, the front door opened. "Mr Lyman…?"

Otto was back. Sam got up, went to find Otto, closed the door to the den behind him.

Josh's eyes widened, dilated a little.

Mr Lyman…

"Josh, it's alright, just take the tablet."

He did as he was told.

Mr Lyman… ?

"Should I just … sleep…?"

"Let's do that. Come here, give me the glass now…"

Josh lay down on the couch, the pillow soft underneath his head, his vision spinning a little. He closed his eyes.

"Donna…"

"It's alright, I'm here… I've got you." Donna held his hand as Josh lay still, trying not to let the room spin.

"Just go to sleep for now, Dr Reinfield will be here soon…"

Blissful, wonderful unconsciousness took him deep, deep under.

****

It was darker when he woke. The curtains were drawn, and the side lamp was lit. Sam was sat in one of the armchairs, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up, tie off, reading through a sheaf of documents. There was a large foolscap folder on the coffee table.

Josh felt like his brain was three sizes too big for his head. His tongue was swollen and dry as leather, and his face felt dried out.

"You're… still here…"

"Hey buddy."

Sam pulled his glasses off, dumped the documents and reached forward to pour a glass of water from a large plastic jug.

Josh struggled up to a sitting position.

"Whoa, hey, easy does it… drink this… your Doctor said you'd need it when you woke."

Josh rubbed a hand over his face and took the glass. Damn, water had never tasted so good.

"You didn't have to get back to work?"

"Took a couple of days off. They managed without me while I was in Brussels. They can cope for a day or two more."

"You didn't have to."

"Yeah I did. Because I will be useless at work until I help straighten you out through this. I was there. Remember?"

"At the Kennedy Centre."

"And afterwards. And I probably remember more of afterwards than you do right now, so, tough. You're stuck with me for a bit."

"What time is it?"

"About seven…"

"Sarah will be wondering where you are."

"Sarah brought me a bag of clothes earlier, and left you a cake. It's in the kitchen."

Josh finally accepted that a considerable amount of ground work had been laid since he'd passed out on the sofa and decided to stop trying to run Sam's life for him. He was obviously several pages behind everyone else at this point.

"Where's Donna…"

"Went for a sleep. She was exhausted. I promised to wake her by 7.30 if she wasn't down by then, so she can eat something."

"I was going to cook…"

"You think I'm letting you loose in a kitchen with knives and flames right now? Relax. I ordered in. It'll be like old times. Solving major issues with cardboard cartons of chinese food."

Sam refilled the water glass.

"How much do you remember? Dr Reinfield said that your short term memory gets a little fuzzy sometimes when it collides with your long term memory like that…"

"Yeah … um … I remember what happened. We were talking about what happened to me. During the campaign."

"During the Santos Administration."

"Yeah."

"How much got shaken loose?"

Josh put his head in his hands.

"Some."

"Which bits?"

"I remember… Donna telling me that you guys had uncovered a plot. A scheme. That … that some people decided to try and make this happen to me."

"Yeah."

"Are you sure that's what happened?"

"Absolutely."

"How are you sure?"

Sam paused for a moment, then gathered up the file and handed it over to Josh.

"Danny. He did the leg work. Uncovered the whole thing."

"Wow…"

Josh flipped through the folder, bits and pieces of his memory falling back into shape, like tetris blocks, but the pattern still had those odd blank squares scattered in it.

"What happened?"

"After you were taken ill at the Kennedy Centre, you had a psychotic break. You were in hospital for a while."

"Yeah, that bit I remember."

"And Santos brought in some people to help right the ship. Donna was in California with Lou and Helen, on the campaign trail… I was at the hospital with you, a lot of the time, until she could get back."

"And that's when he brought in Barry Goodwin."

"Yeah."

Big, bluff, hearty Barry Goodwin. Of Leo's generation and stature in the party, if not of his calibre.

"Why did he pick Goodwin?"

"What you learn first, you do in an emergency. You call in a heavy hitter. Who else was there? Baker was VP. Hoynes disappeared off the scene after the election. Russell fizzled out to nothing, which wasn't much less than he started with, from what Toby said. Will was campaigning in Oregon. CJ was gone to California and had a baby to manage, and Toby could never hold any office with a security clearance again. Amy Gardiner... I mean, she's good, but chief of staff?"

Josh huffed to himself and admitted Sam had a point.

"So of course it was Goodwin. You could practically hear the D triple C cheering. What we didn't realise was that the Republican backers were rubbing their hands with glee."

"When did you find out?"

"About a month after you'd been in hospital, a couple of weeks after Goodwin took over, Danny came to see me. Told me he'd tried to publish the story and his editor at the Chronicle got his chain yanked by the owner way up in the rafters, above the paper."

"What was the story?"

"You. And how the Republicans either knowingly, or as puppets, set you up."

Sam leafed through the folder.

"Every meeting you went to, was in a hotel next to a dispatch centre for police, fire, ambulances… They filled your head with sirens at every opportunity they got. Every office you went to, they played Bach's cello concerto or some other piece of classical music in the next room. Just loud enough to seep through. Did you never notice how they took to slamming doors every time they walked in behind you…"

Josh was stunned. He shook his head, not wanting to believe it, but hearing echoes of everything Sam said reverberating through his memory.

Sam exhaled. "I'll give them this, I didn't, and I was in half of those meetings…"

"I used to ask them to turn the music off, they said there was no music."

"They gaslit you."

"I thought it was just me, just the stress of the job…"

"I thought that too, for a while. I advised the President to keep you as Chief of Staff but give the campaign to Lou, because I thought that both might finally crack you up. But it wasn't that. I was wrong on that front, though, I still think it was the right decision."

"How did Danny put all this together…?"

"Someone on the team behind the scheme turned whistle blower. Contacted Danny, gave him everything, but it was all verbal. Danny had to go hunting for confirmation. He got enough to publish, but…"

"But what?"

"These people, Josh, they weren't small time. Everyone who had an axe to grind, everyone who wanted lobbying to carry weight, everyone who wanted to stop you and Santos finishing what President Bartlet started with campaign finance reform … they set out to take you down. The identified you as Santos's king maker, the heavy hitter, your Leo to his President Bartlet. They knew if they could rattle you, and take you out, make you ineffective, that Santos would have no teeth."

"Who are they?"

"Danny got to a few suggestions, but the names won't mean anything to you. They're the sort of people that Mark Zuckerberg would go to if he needed a favour. Extremely big money. Old money. The sort who can bail banks out quietly. Think like the Koch brothers… but more discreet."

"And he couldn't publish…"

"It became obvious why when we all realised who owned the group that owned The Chronicle."

"No other paper would touch it?"

"Worse. No other paper would touch Danny."

"Oh no…"

"Yeah."

"Oh God…"

Danny's silence, his move away from reporting, his change to working as a TV writer, all suddenly made terrifying and complete sense to Josh. At long last.

"So… what happened when Danny came to see you, was that before or…?"

"Danny realised he was finished, as an investigative reporter. For the time being at least. He came to see me to see if we had enough to go after these bastards politically, legally even. But it was all such smoke and mirrors. I wanted to take it to the President. But …"

"But Goodwin wouldn't let you."

"Yeah."

"And you quit…"

Sam looked at Josh quietly for a moment.

"No Josh, I threatened to walk into the Oval anyway and Goodwin told me if I did, I was fired. I went in, and Santos wasn't there. I walked in angry, I didn't check with Ronna, I stormed in and he wasn't there. Goodwin told me to resign right then, or he'd announce to the press that I was fired.

"Matt Santos couldn't save you?"

"Matt Santos wasn't there. And I realised right then that I couldn't work with Goodwin. He's not in the same league as you or Leo."

"Oh God…"

"How much of this were you aware of…"

"Some. It's odd, it's like, I remember being told some of this, like looking at a painting through foggy glass, or remembering a night out through too much whiskey and having to fill in the blanks later, knowing that you were there and you did all that but really remembering it through other people saying it."

Josh looked up at Sam.

"I'm.. sorry, I'm probably not making any sense."

"So long as you're making sense to you."

"I think I am."

"I thought you'd left all this out of the book on purpose."

"I … didn't realise it needed to be in the book."

"You said you weren't going to pull your punches. We thought you were shooting for them."

"No, I was … taking responsibility."

"You weren't responsible. Nor were you to blame. You were the victim. Not even collateral damage. You were the target Josh."

The two men sat quietly for a while as the clock ticked softly in the background. From upstairs, they heard a shower turn on, plumbing gurgled.

"How did they…. The, that event at the Kennedy Centre. What did they do?"

"They realised that if you were given notice, you could pull yourself together over music."

"Yeah."

"But only if you knew what pieces were going to be played."

"Yeah … I used to listen to stuff in advance, to get it straightened out in my head. Have something else to picture. I was fine if I could just, picture myself sitting in my office, listening to the music, a fresh memory. I tried not to go to events like that, but it was such a high profile one, such a big speech."

"They sent you a fake programme."

"What?"

"For the Kennedy Centre performance. You didn't know what was coming. They arranged for certain pieces to be played, in advance, but they weren't on the programme that you had."

"How?"

"You'd be surprised what foibles people will go along with for people who write cheques that big."

For some reason, at that point, the reality of the sheet power, size and resources of the people they were up against hit Josh like a sledge hammer. It fell on all the old mental injuries like a shock impact on a bruise.

"So, when they played…"

Sam looked choked up for moment. His voice faltered.

"They sponsored a performance by a soloist. A young cellist. They played the Prelude to Bach's…"

"Cello suite…"

The same piece that had been played during Josh's first ever flashback. The Congressional Christmas Party, where Yo-Yo Ma had played. Donna had been so excited…

"Yeah. And then, the finale was the 1812 overture."

"With the cannons…"

"Yeah."

Every single cannon shot had felt like an impact. That gun shot wound in the abdomen. He was sitting there, but he wasn't there. He'd been bleeding, but there was no blood.

"I don't remember much after that."

"It's probably better to let that bit go. You … had a collapse. We thought you were having an epileptic fit. We got you into an ambulance, admitted to GW … they sedated you. But it was in the fully view of the press corps. You'd been sitting three seats down from the President."

"I was gone for a while."

"Yeah… and by the time you came out, you weren't fit to lead a willing lamb, let alone a White House."

"They … leaked my medication. To the press."

"Yeah. But … in all honesty Josh, that was inelegant and unnecessary on their part. By that point, they'd won. There was no way you could come back to work."

"Do you think… do you think they overshot? Do you think they just wanted to embarrass me? Get me onto medication and make it, you know, Leo take two? The saga of pills in the White House?"

"No Josh… I think they undershot. I think you're lucky to be alive."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"You've never said that to me before, have you."

"No."

"So, why…"

"Because I want you to understand how angry I am, with everyone who did this to you. They tried to assassinate my best friend. And I will never, ever forgive them for that. And I will never, ever stop working to take those bastards down."

Josh saw the righteous fury burning in Sam's expression and, finally, truly, understood. He'd seen that expression before. When Sam had tried to convince him to sue the Ku Klux Klan. Only now it was older, refined, like cleansing fire. And it would never die out. Ever.

"This is why you wanted to get me back in the game."

"Partly. I want you to show these bastards that they can't defeat you. I want … I want there to be a resurrection arc in your story Josh, I want you to be the colossus of this political world again, because how dare these petty, pathetic little fuckers try to destroy someone like you. I hated people for doing it to Leo, I goddamn despise them for doing it to you. Partly … " Sam shrugged. "Partly because it's just nowhere near as satisfying doing this without you finishing half my sentences. I'm not sure which half of that's more selfish but…"

Josh broke down and cried at that point.

Sam followed seconds later.

It was cleansing. It was needed. And neither of them felt any shame about those moments, ever.

The door opened and Donna came in.

"Oh God…" her voice broke a little with affection for them both. "I can't leave you two alone for a minute can I…?"

They both smiled beneath the tears, pulled out handkerchiefs, dried off a little.

Donna looked toward Sam.

"How much did…"

"All of it." Josh interrupted. "The whole thing. I know you tried to tell me. I remember you sitting in a chair, like that one, but it was red."

"It was at our old house…"

"Yeah. I remember you telling me now, but when I first remembered, it was all behind glass."

"Dr Reinfield said it might be like that."

"She was here?"

"She was, but you were asleep. She said you're to call her later. She didn't stay. Apparently even you can't afford to have her sit around for hours at a time."

Josh nodded.

"Chinese food is going to be here soon… are you hungry?"

Josh looked up at her, face tear stained and streaked red and white, but looking more like himself than he had for ages.

"Starving."

"And I bought you donuts."

"I love you."

"I know."

Chapter Text

The wheels touched down lightly at Andrew's Airforce Base and the plane trundled gracefully across the tarmac to the waiting stairs.

"Everyone alright back there?"

"Absolutely fine, Mr President."

"Glad to hear it."

Matthew Santos guided the plane easily across the base and breathed out a little sigh of relief. It was still a nice moment to execute a landing so perfectly, he didn't get to fly himself around so often these days.

"Are we there Dad?"

"Just pulling up now son. Keep your seatbelt fastened."

"OK Dad…"

He could hear Helen's quiet voice in the background shushing his impatient daughter and ensuring that order was kept until the plane came to an absolute halt. Glancing out of the cockpit window, he could see the car waiting, a couple of people in suits and overcoats standing outside. A bit like old times, but without the circus and accompanying rally.

All controls switched off, the cabin depressurised and the door opened.

"Ok, everybody out!"

"After you Mr President…"

Ron Butterfield was stood waiting for Matt to grab his bag and disembark.

"You're never going to call me Matt are you?"

Ron smiled.

"Not if I can help it. Mr President."

Matt was glad to have Ron around. He'd stepped down from being head of the President's detail when Santos left office. By his reckoning, sixteen years in that post was more than enough, and after dealing with both the shooting at Roslyn and Zoe Bartlet's kidnapping, it had only been Matt's charm and charisma that had persuaded Ron to give him four more years in the first place. But, Presidents were entitled to secret service protection for life, and for the ongoing safety of his kids, Matt had agreed to accept the provision. Ron had been the first to volunteer after handing in his notice. The new head of detail couldn't really say no.

"It's nice to be back…" Ron remarked softly

"You don't care for the weather in Texas Ron?"

"I never feel properly dressed without an overcoat Mr President."

Waiting by the car was Sam Seaborn.

"Mr President…"

"Sam… thanks for coming out to meet us all."

"Hello Mrs Santos…"

Helen greeted Sam warmly. Ron was loading the kids into the car.

"Ron! I didn't know you were coming…"

Ron have a half salute and climbed aboard.

"I'm sure he'll have time to talk later Sam, but he's still working for me."

"On detail?"

"Of course."

"I see."

"Does Josh know I'm coming?"

"Uhhh, nope…"

"Good…" the smile that had won a thousand votes flashed across Matthew's face. "This will be a nice surprise."

Helen turned and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll take the kids over to the house and get us settled in for a bit. Play gently, now…"

"Like silk."

"See you later…"

"Shall we…?"

Matt Santos and Sam climbed into the other car, Matt's other secret service detail agent climbed into the front seat, and the car purred away out of the airport.

"So how is he?"

"Honestly?"

"Absolutely."

"He's been in rough shape, but now that he's gone through the fire, I can see how long he was headed that way. Thanks for coming at such short notice."

"To be honest, I was going to call. I'd just finished my copy."

Santos held up his briefcase in illustration.

"Did you get the email I sent?"

"Yes. And the attachments."

The car ride continued in silence. For the moment, there was little the two men could say to each other. Too many old regrets, missed opportunities, things that couldn't be unsaid.

"So what's the plan?"

"Josh is expecting me. Donna is expecting me and you."

"You know, this is one of the nice parts about no longer being President, I get to just turn up and surprise people these days. In the old days, you could see me coming from a mile away, motorcade and all. Now it's just me and a little old black car."

"And an exceptionally trained bodyguard with a gun."

"I try to gloss over that part. No office, Ward."

"None taken sir," came the muffled reply from the front seat.

"Do you need to inspect the house Ward?"

"Not if you'd rather I didn't sir. I can maintain a wider perimeter."

"Donna's got something set up, you can get cosy in the kitchen," Sam turned to Santos in explanation, "She knew the drill from having CJ over," he raised his voice again, "Don't worry Ward, you won't starve."

"Glad to hear that, sir, but please don't concern yourself with me."

"In fact… here we are…"

The car drew up at the front of the Moss-Lyman residence. A neat, suburban house, white painted with a slate coloured roof, set into a well maintained and trimmed set of gardens with a long driveway. The homeliness of it warmed Matt's heart. He'd always pictured Josh crammed into some overpriced, city centre apartment, tripping over his own relics of his political days in the sun. But he hadn't counted on Donna's influence. She always did have the more long term vision, not to mention the more firmly planted feet.

As the two men stood on the doorstep and rang the bell, there was a flurry of footsteps from inside.

"I'll get it…" Donna callled.

"Not to worry, it'll just be…" Josh opened the door, "...Sam."

He stopped dead to see Matt on the doorstep.

"Mr President … where did you… how…"

"Ain't you gonna invite me in Josh?" Matt's arms were flung wide.

Josh met the proffered bearhug with an open mouth and open heart.

"Come in, come in… I'm sorry, I just … do you need to check around?" he addressed the last remark to the discreet suited Ward to the rear.

"Not necessary sir. But a seat at an window with a view to the front would be good…"

"Josh, who was at the …. Oh goodness, you're here!"

A flurry of hugs all round and re-acquaintances made, and all were safely landed in the den for a long talk before dinner.

Donna discretely brought Ward into the kitchen, where a covered tray held a promised multi-course snack for later, the TV was tuned to the back yard security system, and the blinds were slanted for a view across the front year. Ward smiled and got comfortable in one of the sturdy dining chairs, picking up a fishing magazine from a discarded pile. It was good to visit Washington people again. They knew how this worked.

In the den, another young woman was waiting, rising to her feet.

"Mr President, you remember my wife?"

"Of course, Sarah, how lovely to see you again…"

"How do you do, sir…"

"Now, now, I let my former employees get away with that Sir and Mr President nonsense. Matt. Please."

"Ok then. Matt."

"That's better…"

"Glass of wine? Beer?"

"Whatever you're having Donna…"

"Um…"

Matt looked over at Donna properly for the first time since he'd sat down.

"I'll…. go get some drinks. Kitchen?" Sam upped and left quickly, realising that he'd left a key part out of his briefing…

"Wait a second… Donna …?"

"Sam didn't tell you…"

Sam closed the door to the den and escaped.

Matt's grin split wider as he took in his old friend Josh's bemused expression, and Donna's glow, underlying her frustrated glance at Sam going out the door…

"He was supposed to tell you, before you got here…"

"But I'm glad he didn't. Because now I can."

Josh stepped forward and put his arm around Donna.

"We're due to join the parent club."

Matt Santos practically whooped for joy, wrapping both of them into enormous hugs…

"When? How far? Helen's much better with these questions than me, have you told her yet…?"

"Not yet, almost 12 weeks so far, so six months to go…"

"Oh, my friends, congratulations!"

Sarah exchanged a side eyed glance with Donna and murmured something about going to help Sam with the drinks…

"We should be celebrating…!" Matt was still in a party mood.

"We … uh, we will, when it's all done and dusted and safe. We'll throw an awesome welcome party once Baby's here safely."

Matt finally simmered down to a burning grin, and grabbed Josh for one last hug. "Mazel Tov, Josh. Long time coming."

"You're telling me."

They all settled down again.

"So, what brings you to Washington?"

"In a word…" Matt rooted around in his briefcase and brought up Josh's manuscript. "You."

The document landed onto the coffee table with a thump.

Matt's face radiated sympathy and concern.

"You came all the way from Texas … for me?"

"You came all the way to Texas for me once."

Josh looked a little choked up for a few moments. Donna reached for his hand and lamented for the millionth time that such a ridiculous set of circumstances had removed this charismatic, sympathetic and articulate man from the office that he had filled so briefly but with such dignity and gravitas.

"I was going to call. But honestly, I realised that our calls had been missing a lot of important information."

"When did you realise that…?"

Sam and Sarah reappeared, carrying drinks trays.

"Around about the time Sam called me."

"You didn't tell me you'd called Matt…"

"In my defence," Sam popped the top off his beer, "you were in a medically induced snooze on the couch when I did that."

"You were … making calls, when I was out of it?"

"Mmmm… I took advantage of you not being able to argue with me. And I wanted to compare some notes, about what happened all that time ago, and get some facts straight before I spoke to you."

Josh couldn't argue with this line of reasoning.

"So…" Matt picked up his glass of wine and settled back into the armchair. "How are you feeling, right now?"

"Right now… a weird mixture of exhausted and clearer than I have in a long time."

"I'm assuming that's a good thing?"

"Yeah, on the whole."

"How about … underneath that? Emotionally?" Matt flashed a grin towards Sarah and Donna. "The thing I love most about being a latin man is that I'm allowed to ask those questions without anyone questioning my masculinity."

A pleasant chuckle spread through the group, lightening the mood a notch further, before Matt turned back to Josh.

"But I do intend to press for an answer…"

"Does dismay count, as an emotion?"

"Mmmm, kinda…"

"I'm … dismayed at the gaps I had in my own mind. Finding out something like that, like you had a gap, it makes you feel you can't trust your own head. Like, all this time I've been running on a parallel track to everyone else."

Matt nodded thoughtfully.

"I couldn't believe it," Sarah interjected, "When Sam called and told me what had happened, what you'd been missing from the picture... All the time I've known you, I thought your memory was just infallible. You hold things together in your mind which would baffle me… when you were Chief of Staff and Sam was working for you, and he'd tell me about some of the schemes you'd pull together… I could never have pulled those threads together in a million years, and I thought I was smart."

"You are smart," said Josh quietly. "I wouldn't have taken the Bar Exam twice for an insane amount of money."

Sam and Sarah linked hands, looked at each other for a moment in a fond memory.

"I can safely say that the people behind all this got one thing right, Josh, you were the backbone of my first campaign, my presidency, my whole administration."

"Thank you sir."

"But that does mean something, and I realised that you didn't know it, once this came to light, and you should know it."

"What?"

"When those people took a shot at you through these … abhorrent games, they staged a coup in my country. On my watch. This was an assassination attempt, designed to undermine my Presidency. On a more personal note, they took a shot at my family. My brother. Nobody gets away with that. Much like Sam, I don't forgive that. I can't forgive that. And I won't ever forgive that."

Matt reached over and clapped Josh on the shoulder.

"But… what we do next largely depends on you, compadre."

Josh sat on the edge of his seat, hands wrapped around his own beer.

"I … I don't want to go after them. I don't think that's the way to do it. Having seen what happened to Danny … all of you are precious to me. I don't want to go tie fire to that tiger's tail. I've given that a lot of thought over the last few days and there's too much to lose…" Josh reached for Donna's hand.

A sense of disappointment settled, thin and oily, across the room.

"Alright, I respect that Josh…"

"I haven't finished."

Josh raised his head and looked at Matt.

"Sorry, I hadn't finished."

Matt made the open handed gesture that had become so familiar to Sam and Josh during their time working for him. The ceding of authority, the invitation to speak your mind.

"That … that doesn't mean that I want to do nothing. There is something I want to do. It's… small. But it's part of a much bigger picture."

"Go on…"

"Our generation, our parents' generation, needs to get out of the way in politics. We dropped the ball. We let big business gather up all that money, all that influence. CJ tried to warn me about this, years ago, she … she tore up her press briefing room and put eight seats in there, or something like that. To represent the eight businesses that controlled all the media in the press briefing room. I thought it was funny at the time, but it scares the crap out of me now."

Josh squeezed Donna's hand and looked at her.

"I know I said I was done, but I'm not done."

"I know. I didn't think you were. I don't think you should be done."

A spark of fire lit inside Sam's belly. He held his breath.

"Mr President, if you've got the time to stay, there's someone I'd like you to meet, while you're in Washington. Discreetly, at first, but… he wants to run for Senate, and he's been saying things that are actual music to my ears, for the first time since I made that trip to Texas. I think I found my guy and I want to try and get him elected."

"What's his name Josh?"

"His name's Billy Weston."

"That name sounds familiar," said Sam.

Josh smiled a genuine smile for the first time in days.

"You've met him before. We called him Fred."

Chapter Text

Four Conversations

1)

"Andie?"

"Hey Toby…"

"What's wrong, is everything ok, are the kids…"

"The kids are fine…"

"And you?"

"I'm fine Toby, don't worry, it's not an emergency call."

"OK. OK, good. And … good."

"Toby, this kid, Billy Weston…"

"You met with him?"

"Yeah… I met him. Dick likes him."

"Do...you like him?"

"I do. Yeah."

"I thought you would."

"Yeah. Listen, are you going to this thing that Josh is putting together on Saturday night?"

"I was planning to, yes."

"OK. Donna called and asked me to come along."

"Oh. ...Do you need me to watch the kids instead?"

"No! … No, my mother can have them. I… I guess I just wanted to let you know I was coming too."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'd like to hear what you have to say. … Andie?"

"Huh?"

"Andie are you still there?"

"Yeah…"

"You went all quiet."

"Yeah."

"... Are you sure everything's ok?"

"Yeah. I was just… yeah."

"Just what?"

"I was just busy smiling."

"OK."

"OK."

"So, shall I meet you there? I could pick you up?"

"No, I'll take the kids to Mom's first. I'll ask if she'll keep them overnight. But I'll see you there. … Toby?"

"Yeah?"

"You went all quiet too."

"I was busy smiling too."

"That's new."

"Yeah."

"See you Saturday."

"See you there."

****

2)

"Donna?"

"Mrs Santos!"

"Hi….!"

"Hi"

"Is now a good time to talk?"

"Yeah, now is fine, I just got out of a meeting."

"Josh called, about Saturday?"

"Oh good, he said he was going to. Can you make it?"

"Absolutely, I just wanted to confirm that we can both come, but can we bring Peter with us too? Miranda's going to a sleepover with an old friend from school, but…"

"Oh … oh sure, I guess…"

"Is it a problem?"

"Oh, no it's just… are you sure he won't be bored?"

Helen laughed.

"Oh, heck no. Peter's grown up a lot in the last few years, he's off to Stanford in the fall, and he picked up his father's taste for politics. Josh and Billy might be interested in what he's got to say."

"OK, well, sure, we'll see you all on Saturday."

"Do you want us to bring anything?"

"Just yourselves... that's all we want."

"We'll see you at your place then."

"Can't wait!

"Oh, and Donna?"

"Yes?"

"Please call me Helen? Now that we're done with all that?"

"I'll do my best."

****

3)

"Hello?"

"CJ?"

"Who's this…?"

"It's Sam... Sam Seaborn"

"Sam! Oh my good God, how are you!"

"I'm good, really good, how are things with you guys?"

"Oh, you know, too much sunshine rots the brain after a while… it's good to be back at work again. Where are you, are you in California?"

"No, I'm still in Washington. I just got back from Europe the beginning of last week."

"Oh don't, you jet-setter..."

"You don't miss it."

"You're right, I don't. Not even a little bit."

"How's Jenny doing, how's she taken to Kindergarten?"

"Like a little duckling to water…"

"That's great… really great..."

"Sam…?"

"Yeah…?"

"I'd love to just chat, but you don't call to chat..."

"Yeah...

"Is everything alright? Really?"

"Not really."

"You wanna talk to me about it?"

"Yeah…"

"OK…"

"This might take a while."

"OK you've got my attention … and now I'm sitting down…"

"Is Danny there with you?"

"Sure, do you want me to put you on speaker...?"

"That might save time."

"What's doing on Sam?"

"It's about Josh…"

****

4)

Edison's Sporting Goods was a family run store in a suburb of Bethesda, Maryland. Having survived the recession a few years ago, trade was picking up and the store was in the process of relocating to larger and more prestigious premises. An overlap between the two leases had lead to a double outlay for a few weeks, but luckily the new occupant had agreed to share the premises, for a reduction in rent. The whole arrangement had lead to a chaotic, companionable mess.

Boxes of sporting goods, till receipt rolls and 'special offer' signs jostled for space with flip chart boards, bunting striped in blue and white, cardboard cutouts and boxes of badges and rosettes. A whole crowd of young folk swarmed around, each one forcibly attached to a mobile phone, talking nineteen to the dozen.

Josh stood in the doorway for a few moments, his mackintosh dripping from the rain, backpack swing over his shoulder. His hair was now cut, his skin had lost its grey tone and there was fire in his eyes. He didn't have an appointment to see the candidate for this campaign but he was fairly sure he could get in for a few minutes.

"Just, uh, tell him Mr Lyman would like a few words, if he can spare a minute…"

"OK, uh, I'll ask..."

The young volunteer, barely out of college, if at all, scampered across to the tiny office and hammered on the door.

"Hey, man, there's this guy who wants to see you…"

"Yeah? What does he want…"

"He said to ask if you had a few minutes. He said his name's Lyman…"

"Wait a second, what?"

Josh couldn't help but smile as the candidate emerged from the makeshift office.

"You've finally got your own messenger."

Above the man's head hung a crooked hand painted banner, boldly declaring 'Young for Congress"

Charlie and Josh embraced in the middle of the floor, to the amusement and confusion of all of Charlie's staff.

"It's so good to see you man…"

"It's good to see you too."

"It's about damn time. I've been here for two weeks, waiting for one of you to walk through that door."

"You could have just called."

"I almost did."

"Well, I'm here now. And … if you've got room in your schedule, I want to run an idea past you."

"Step into my office…"

Chapter Text

The doorbell rang just as Josh came downstairs, freshly attired for the evening in slacks and a clean shirt, a casual sweater and loafers. It felt weird to be organising a meeting like this, in his own home, out of his office suit, but Donna had assured him that while a suit and tie might have been the required way to dress on Pennsylvania Avenue, but he should do his best to embrace the world of smart-casual dress at home.

At the door, he found Billy, and a pretty young woman he'd never met before. Billy carried a couple of bottles of wine and the young woman held an oddly shaped paper bag in her arms.

"Fred!"

"Hey there, Josh…"

"I'm sorry, we're really going to have to break that habit before we confuse voters, come on in, and you must be…"

"This is Karen."

"Nice to meet you, Mr Lyman."

"You too Karen, thanks for coming, and please, both of you, call me Josh. Please, come on through…"

"We brought you some things."

"Oh that's great, here, pass me those, I'll put them in the cooler … Karen, what's… what's that?"

Karen had passed the paper bag to Billy.

"Oh, um, it's just a little gift … for you and Donna. A sort of, old time's sake joke."

"Come on in…"

Donna was waiting for them in the den with Sam and Sarah. The room was a little more crowded with some extra chairs brought from other rooms. A few small introductions passed off and they settled down.

"So…" Billy put the bag onto the table, and started pulling some things out. "I figured we might need some of this at some point…"

A bag of apples, and a large jar of crunchy peanut butter landed on the table. Donna looked confused for a moment, Karen was meeting her eyes in shared clueless wonder. Josh, however, stopped dead, his face frozen in a smile. He turned to Sam, whose expression matched.

"Well I'll be damned…." breathed Sam.

"You remembered…?" Josh was delighted.

"Never forgot."

"Mr Lyman.."

Josh, please Karen…"

"Josh, he brings this stuff to every single team meeting when the rest of us bring donuts, what's this all about? And what's with the nickname, nobody else has ever called him Fred, ever."

Josh sat down and reached for an apple, which he threw to Sam. He picked up a second for himself, looking at it as if it was a lucky talisman.

"Karen, did Billy ever tell you we've met before?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know how. Did you work on the same campaign or something?"

"Not exactly. What did you major in at college, Karen?"

"Public Health."

"That figures."

"How so?"

"Not many people outside of political science even recognise the names of the people you'll meet tonight. Although, there's one or two that you might recognise. But anyway… I, uh, used to work at the White House."

"Wow…"

"Yeah, uh, most of us did. Sam, Donna and I met Billy in 2001, when he came on a trip to the White House, on a Presidential Classroom scheme. I conducted the tour and we hosted a sort of impromptu discussion. Truth is, the tour got stuck, because we had a security breach while they were visiting and nobody was allowed in or out for hours."

"Oh my God…"

"Yeah."

"Was that.." Karen turned to Billy, eyes wide. "Was that the security thing where you got trapped, and thought the world was ending? You never said that was at the White House…"

Billy looked endearingly shy. "I didn't want to brag."

"Well…" Josh broke back in, keen to explain now. "A few of us, we noticed Billy here because he kept contradicting us and being right, and knowing the answers to things that the rest of his classmates didn't even have a clue about, and we … I … gave him the nickname Fred, because I was embarrassed to be shown up by this high school senior…"

"High school junior…"

"High school JUNIOR who seemed to know more than me when I was trying to calm everyone down, while still not knowing if Korea had launched its missiles at us."

The whole company dissolved into laughter.

"Yeah, luckily that didn't happen, but we were all stuck there and everyone was starving, and so we ended up getting a whole bunch of stuff out of the mess, and what we ended up eating was apples…" Josh held up the apple. "... And peanut butter."

"And you told us that you'd gotten whole pieces of legislation through Congress on apples and peanut butter."

"He was right too…" interjected Sam, nodded, his eyes misty with memories.

"And … the fact that you remember that, all these years later, and you're sitting here after being dogged and refusing to give up, and that we knew even then that we might not be done hearing your name, well that was just … just some of the reasons that have brought us all here tonight."

The doorbell rang and Donna went to get it. She returned with Toby and Andie.

"Congresswoman Wyatt! Professor Ziegler… I didn't realise you were both coming tonight."

Zoby divested himself of his old overcoat and saw Andie's stowed safely. Josh took them away, asking "Can I get people some drinks? Beer? Wine?"

Billy and Karen accepted the offer of a beer, Andie said she would love a glass of wine, while Donna just raised her glass of iced sparkling water.

"Joshua, I love you, but if you don't mind, I brought my own…" Toby pulled out a gleaming amber bottle and passed it over, patting it lovingly. Josh took it and whistled softly.

"What you got there?"

"Lagavulin… 16 years young…"

"I've never tried that one, I've heard it's really good stuff," Billy tried to look hopeful.

"Win yourself an election, young man, and I'll buy you your own bottle. But until then, and while you need your wits, you'd best stick to your beer."

"Nice try…" Sam leaned across and spoke softly to Billy. "I've known this man for over fifteen years, and he still thinks I'm too young to drink scotch that good."

Josh returned with some bottles, which Donna took to open and pass around. He passed a large glass of red wine to Andie and a heavy tumbler glass with a splash of amber in it to Toby.

"So… what job did you do at the White House, Josh?"

"Well … when I first met Billy, I was Deputy Chief of Staff. Donna was my assistant, at the time, and Toby here was Director of Communications. Sam was his deputy. Between them, they wrote most of the speeches for President Bartlet in his first term of office."

Karen blinked.

"Those… sound like important jobs."

"Yeah, there was only one person above us in seniority other than the President…"

"And who was…"

The door bell rang again.

"Just a second…"

Josh peeped out of the window and scurried over to the door again.

"Your timing is impeccable. Come on in… "

"I'd have been earlier, but the cab driver took me to the wrong place."

"Yeah, they do that, it's a problem..."

Charlie stepped into the room and was assailed by warm greetings all around, complete with a hug from Donna, and a firm handshake from Toby.

"Guys," Donna took pity on the newer members of the group, "This is Charles Young, he's running for Congress in Maryland right now."

Billy stretched across to shake Charlie's hand.

"How're you doing there Mr Young, I think I've seen you at some of the rallies…"

"Yeah, I recognise you man, I caught your speech at the last one for the teachers' union. Powerful stuff, you got a good voice."

Josh settled back down again, having passed a beer across to Charlie.

"So, where was I…?"

"Jobs in the White House." Karen prompted, anxious for an end to this fascinating story.

"Yes! Jobs in the white house … well, here's another member of the group, Charlie worked with us too, during the Bartlet administrations. He started out working as a personal assistant to President Bartlet, and took good care of the President."

"So… was he your boss?"

Charlie and Josh dissolved into giggles. Toby chuckled into his whisky.

"Nah … no no, we all answered to the same guy. The chief of staff. Which reminds me … uh, people?"

Josh held up his bottle, as if for a toast. A second later, the rest of the room followed suit.

"Absent friends…" said Josh softly.

All of them took a drink. Billy and Karen took a drink with everyone else, not really realising what was happening.

"I'm sorry…" Josh, put down the drink. "I should have explained. We try to do that, on the occasions when we get together."

"Is the Chief of Staff coming tonight?"

Karen's artless questions caught them all a little raw, it was so innocent and unexpected. Sam looked desperately sad for a moment, Donna almost tearful, which Toby stared at his glass. Andie reached for his hand quietly.

"Uh … no. Sadly not. The chief of staff was a man called Leo McGarry. He, uh… he died. A few years back…"

"Wait …. Wait I remember that name, wasn't he the Vice President, or something?"

"Almost. He was going to be, after President Santos won his campaign. But he was taken ill, he had a massive heart attack on election night. He never got to be Vice President. But before that, he was President Bartlet's chief of staff, for several years. He was The Boss, to us. Always will be."

The emotion choked Josh for a moment and his eyes filled with tears. Many times in the last week he'd wished dearly that he could call his old mentor for advice in these dark times.

"So are we expecting anyone else tonight?" Billy spoke up to break the tension. "Or should we start handing out peanut butter?" The small joke broke the tension beautifully. Josh realised that Billy was a born politician, an excellent public speaker, all the more so for it having never been his childhood ambition.

"We are waiting on just one more group to arrive, and then we can get started… but this is probably the last time we get to ask this Billy."

"Ask what, Josh…?"

Toby leaned forward, placed the glass gently down on the glass table.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Because believe me you're not going to want to change your mind once we're all assembled and complete."

Billy and Karen looked at each other and grinned, gripping hands. Something about their innocence made all of the men in the room feel unaccountably old, and all of the women feel young once again.

"Yeah…" Billy turned to face Toby. "Yeah, I'm sure." He met Andie's smile. "Definitely sure… 100% sure."

"Good."

There was one final knock at the door.

Josh stood. "I'll get that, and then we can get started."

Billy and Karen looked at each other in confusion, as everyone else in the room stood to their feet and waited patiently. Behind the door, an oddly familiar voice rumbled.

"Hey Josh … hey, you remember my son Peter, right? Shake hands son, good man… Come on in dear. Josh, you go kissing my wife like that again and I'll demand satisfaction of you! Nah, you know I'm messing with you, come here… Are we all in here? You'll be ok in there Ward, yeah?"

Karen leaned towards Billy and whispered. "Do you know who that is…"

"He sounds really familiar… but I can't place where from..."

The door opened. "Good evening everyone…"

Billy and Karen shot to their feet as the former President of the United States, Matthew Santos, accompanied by former First Lady Mrs Santos, and a young man they did not recognise, came into the room.

"Oh my God…" Billy heard Karen exclaim under her breath. He clutched her hand so tight that both of them felt pain shoot through their fingers.

"So, where's this fine young fellow I've heard so much about…?" Having greeted the rest of the room smoothly, swiftly, with all the charm and elegance they remembered from his days in office, Matt turned the full power of his beaming gaze and smile onto Billy. "Mr Weston right…" He extended his hand.

"Yessir…" Billy's words stumbled as he stretched out his hand to grip the one offered by the former President. He found his hand captured into a strong grip.

"I understand you want to run for Senate, young man."

"Yes sir."

"And you think you can win?"

"I think with the help of these fine people, we've got a shot sir…"

Matt's eyes glinted. "I sure hope so," he shook Billy's hand firmly and released it, turning to beckon forward the young man behind him.

"This is my son, Peter…" Billy shook hands courteously.

"Now, when you were about his age, apparently you visited my friends here at my old house." The room rippled with laughter. Matt grinned around. "I sure do miss that place…" he caught the warning look from Helen. "But not enough to try to live there again…!" he added swiftly. "But, if you really want your campaign to succeed, you need to listen to the voices of your generation, and the one snapping your heels. Now my son Peter, he went to public school here in Washington when he lived with us at the Big House, and his friends are still here, they know this area, and the state around it, better than most. They're going to be the new block of voters when this election comes around. If you're a wise man, you'll take on board the experience in this room, absolutely you will. But you make sure you listen to the voices of the young too. They just might upset the apple cart this time around."

Santos turned to accept his beer from Josh, saw that his wife and son both had drinks and settled down into a chair on the edge of the room.

"Well," said Josh, as the rest of the group sank back to their chairs, and, in Billy and Karen's cases, tried to hide their shaking knees, "I guess it's time for us to make a start. What do you think Billy?"

"I think so Mr Lyman," Billy's heart thumped loudly in his chest as the assembled company turned to greet him. He turned to Andie, and to Charlie, with grins of solidarity. "I think it's long past time."

He stood to his feet, raised his beer and spoke clearly and simply. It wasn't as fine a declaration, not as fancy an occasion as some of those in the room had attended, when other candidates had made their declarations. But it was so genuine, and so honest, that it raised goosebumps across the backs of necks in the room filled with the finest and most experienced political operatives in the Democratic Party.

"My name is Billy Weston", he looked around. "And I'm announcing my candidacy for the Senate, for the state of Maryland. And I'd very much like all of you to help me get there to serve the people of my state."

Chapter Text

"Billy, are you in yet?"

Karen's voice rang across the empty office space. It was early morning, a dark and miserable December day. There was no snow, and for that everyone was thankful, but the puddles were ever deeper and the clouds showed no sign of clearing. It was shortly before Christmas and the whole city of Washington DC felt hungover from Thanksgiving.

Several weeks had passed since the momentous gathering at Josh Lyman's house, and everyone had scattered to the winds over the holidays. Billy hadn't heard from anyone since Thanksgiving, when he had been invited to Andie's house for dinner, with about fifteen other people, all what Professor Ziegler had called 'Political Waifs and Strays'. They were the people who couldn't afford to get home for the holidays, or had no family to make the journey for. For the last few years, Andie had routinely gathered them all up for dinner and made sure that nobody within a round trip spent their day in their DC office, trying to ignore the festive cheer.

"I'm in here…"

Billy was now in the back office of his new campaign headquarters, otherwise known as the cupboard of the space rented by Charlie Young's campaign for Congress. He was envious of the head start Charlie had, not to mention his level of knowledge and connections across DC. He may have been a lowly assistant when he worked in the West Wing, but he now had an impressive list of people who had started as interns and risen to respectable positions in the last ten years. Everyone who had made coffee in the White House ten years ago now called out for their own from a desk somewhere in the capital, and Charlie knew them all by name. Luckily, he also had a spreadsheet of them, which he had shared with Billy. Billy was now scanning through and cross referencing them with the list of potentially helpful names and numbers Josh had emailed over to him.

Karen looked around the door.

"Hey…"

"Hey you…"

"I woke up and you weren't there."

"I'm sorry … I didn't want to wake you."

"You're allowed to wake me. Boyfriend perks."

Billy smiled. Even on this dank and depressing morning, she was a ray of sunshine, her red hair shining, her eyes bright, belying the handful of hours of sleep she had managed to grab.

"And besides…"

She walked in, carrying a large muffin, topped with chocolate frosting. Wedged into the frosting on the top, there was something that looked like a tealight, but it was flickering with an electrical little flame…

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Wiiiilliam…"

Oh bless her...

"Happy Birthday to youuuuu!"

She popped the muffin on his desk and leaned over for a big kiss. Which he returned with resounding interest.

"Happy Birthday, babe."

"Thanks…"

"Aren't you going to blow out the candle?"

He dislodged it from the cake and mimed blowing it out, flicking the little off switch. The electric flame extinguished and Karen gave him a small clap and cheer. She turned and retrieved the two takeaway coffees from where she had left them on the desk and came to perch next to him.

"Electric candle?"

"Can't have a naked flame in here. It's against the lease."

"You are amazing… I wasn't expecting anything like that."

"Were you just going to ignore the day you become eligible to run for senate? My big, handsome, thirty year old man?" Karen sat on his lap.

"Everyone else is going to think I'm just a baby."

"Everyone else is going to be a fool when you prove them wrong."

"Oh God, what am I doing Karen? Can I really do this? There hasn't been a Senator my age since…"

"1821," Karen took his chin and turned his face to meet her gaze. "I looked it up." She kissed him on the nose, and then on the lips. "Now listen to me … you are more mature than any of those Republican buffoons that we see on the TV spouting their bullshit. Haffley? Royce? Moseley, with his ever banging drum about school prayer? You make them look like petulant toddlers. And, I know we're waving the blue flag, but your older Democrats are going to have to look twice at you too. Triplehorn? Pierce? They aren't going to know what hit them."

"Unless I hit the wall first…"

"Hey."

Karen got up, put her hands on her hips, and glared down at Billy with all the mustered authority of a sergeant at arms. She was formidable, and fierce.

"No man of mine is going to be a quitter. No man of mine is going to be a loser before he gets out of the gate. Understood?"

"So… does that mean that I am definitely your man?"

"You'd damn well better be." Karen hooked a saucy finger into his button hole and brought him nose to nose. "Understood?"

"Understood. And pleased for the clarification ma'am, because… well… that makes me a little less nervous about this bit."

Billy fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the little box he had been carrying around for the last three days, and slipped off the chair to his knee, while she was still on her feet.

"William Fernandez-Weston, what in the world are you…"

"Shhhh … my turn to talk."

He opened the box. On a velvet cushion lay a ring, two little diamonds wrapped into a circle of white gold on a simple band.

"I… uh … I thought they looked like you and me. You and Me against the world… and I hope, that if I am your man, that it is you and me against the world. Now and always. Forever. And I don't mind if you want to wait, or just… go to the courthouse tomorrow, whatever you want. I just know that I want you. Karen, will you be my wife?"

"Billy…"

"Yes…"

"I've been trying to get a word in edgeway to say yes, you fool, now will you put that gorgeous ring on my finger?!"

Billy wasn't sure what was shining brighter, the diamonds or their smiles. Karen made all the expected noises of squeeing and jumped up and down a bit, stretched her hand out to admire it, bemoaned her chipped polish and vowed that she would have to have her manicure done before announcing anything on facebook.

"So… you like it?"

"I love it."

"And… what do you think? Wait, or … dive in?"

Karen bit her lip and turned to him with a wicked grin.

"Let's dive in!"

"You're sure?"

"Hell yes I'm sure … and besides, being a respectable married man with a stunning lady on your arm can only, uh, add to your maturity…"

Billy laughed, but then took her hand.

"I don't want you to rush into this to help the campaign."

"Billy, I want to be your wife regardless of this campaign, but if we wait, we'll never find a minute to get married. You'll be stomping and glad handing, and then if you get elected, you'll go straight into legislative office, and there will be not a moment to catch our breath, let alone get married. Besides … I don't want a big wedding. Mom had that with both of my sisters and promised me permission to elope."

"She won't be mad?"

"She'll be delighted. Trust me. I know my mother."

"So… courthouse?"

"Let's see when they have a booking."

"You'll need a dress?"

"Hmmm … I never really wanted a meringue. I'll look for something…. I dunno, snappy and classy."

"I want you to have whatever you want."

"Correct answer! We could hire you a suit if you want?"

"Josh suggested I get one for the campaign, so that I look the part. I could just… get one now?"

"Alright, that works."

"We'll need rings…"

"Downtown jeweller."

Karen was making quick notes.

"Flowers?"

"Not really necessary…"

"Sure?"

"It's December, flowers will cost a bomb. Oh, I don't want to wait, I want to go do it now!"

Billy's chest felt warm and curiously full with the idea that this beautiful woman couldn't wait to marry him.

"We can't."

"Why not?"

"Manicure, remember…"

The kiss that followed was so thorough and so utterly enjoyable that the sound of the outside door banging broke them apart like guilty teenagers.

"Someone leave the light on in here?"

Charlie's voice called through the building. Billy and Karen looked at each other with barely suppressed glee. Time to go and let the first of their new friends know…

Two Weeks Later…

"DONNA! DONNA HAVE YOU SEEN MY SHOE POLISH?"

Josh stomped up the stairs and looked around for his wife.

"DONNA…!"

A weak voice came from the bathroom.

"Josh … please don't shout…"

"Oh God…" Josh pushed the door open to find Donna sat on the floor. Her wedding finery was still hung up on the back of the door, her hair was pushed back from her forehead and she was leaning over the toilet bowl, still dressed in her robe.

"Darling, I didn't realise you were…"

"I didn't want to worry you...Oh… oh…."

Donna wretched into the bowl. Josh leaned down to hold back her hair, reaching over for a hair tie to secure it. Eventually she spat and sat up again.

"How bad is it?"

"Bad enough…"

"I thought this was all done with after three months…"

"So did I… I don't approve… this is a faulty bill of sale!"

Josh filled a tooth mug with water and handed it down to her.

"Will you be alright to go?"

"I really want to say yes, but…"

"Donna…" Josh took her hand. "It's alright."

"It's not, I feel so weak and pathetic, and so stupid… I hate this… I hate letting people down at short notice."

"Hey, from what I gather, we'll be doing that a lot in a few months time. Get used to it as practice. C'mere…" Josh sat on the ground and put his arm around Donna.

"I'll get mess all over your shirt."

"I have other shirts."

"You should still go."

"Are you sure you'll be OK?"

"Just … steer me back to bed and bring me a bowl?"

"Come on then…"

Once she was safely installed in bed, book and water bottle to hand, a large bowl beside the bed in case she couldn't make it to the bathroom, Josh changed his shirt and got into another suit.

"Is that your Joey Lucas suit?" Donna smiled weakly.

"It was, and still is, a regular Tuesday suit," he smiled at her. "Do you know where my shoe polish is?"

"It's in the back pantry… in the top drawer."

"I thought I kept it up here.."

"The smell…"

"Ah. Gotcha. Are you sure you're going to be alright?"

"Call me after it's all over and check in?"

"You bet."

"Don't kiss me … you'll stink…"

Josh leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

"What will you do for a fellow witness?"

"I've got a plan… I'll call Toby."

"Won't be be at temple?"

"Nah. … he already texted me this morning about something else, I know he's not busy."

"Tell everyone I'm sorry?"

"I will do that. And now I gotta run…"

On his way to the car, Josh dialled Toby's number.

"Josh?"

"Hey … um … on the off chance that you have nothing planned on this Saturday morning, and on the betting that you still have all your suits ready to wear, could you put a smart one on and do me a favour?"

****

"Where are they?"

"We're early, they're not late."

"I know, I'm just nervous.."

"Don't be." Karen leaned over the straighten Billy's tie. "Everything is going to be fine."

Billy marvelled for the hundredth time that this woman was going to be his wife in just over thirty minutes' time. She looked stunning. She always looked beautiful to him, but with her red hair set into soft waves, her cream suit neatly fitted and a little flirty fascinator fixed into her hair, she looked fantastic. He, however, still felt like a little boy dressed up in his Dad's suit, and nowhere near respectable enough to be an about-to-be-married-man.

"Look here's Josh now … and oh! It's Professor Ziegler!"

Billy spun around.

"Billy! I'm sorry, we struggled to find somewhere to park. Listen, Donna's sick, it's nothing serious, just … y'know…"

"Oh God, poor thing, I totally get it," Karen broke in, "My sister was like that when she was expecting."

"Anyway… I hope you don't mind but…"

Toby shifted and shuffled his feet.

"If you would rather call in another witness, I would completely understand."

"No! Wow, no… I'm… I'm honoured, sir…"

Something about Billy's eager and earnest face as he extended a hand went straight to Toby's heart. He was glad he'd said yes to Josh's impromptu suggestion.

"I've… never done this sort of thing before. Not for a civil wedding anyway. My wife and I were married at Temple."

"That's alright sir…" Billy put his arm around Karen. "We've never done this before either."

Something about the situation and phrasing made all four of them crack up into laughter.

"No, no, you terrible men, don't make me laugh until I cry, my makeup will smudge." Karen fanned her face and blinked desperately.

"Alright well … Josh, could you take care of these?"

Josh took the rings from Billy, tucked them into his jacket pocket.

"Weston?"

The call came across the lobby.

"Well, if he's doing the rings…" Toby offered his arm to Karen with his best courtly smile. "I might not be the best bridesmaid, but can I walk you in?"

Karen beamed and leaned over to plant a kiss on Toby's cheek, tucking her arm into his, as the little party turned to follow the judge into the wedding room.

Chapter Text

Sam gazed around his house in fascination at the transformation that was taking place. In some ways it was like old times, seeing familiar faces around the place, but in others it made him feel old, which was a novel experience in and of itself. He had spent so much of his career being the youngest person at the table, and in his new role as a UN Envoy, he was often still the youngest by at least twenty years. But now his house was crowded with people in their early twenties, in some cases their late teens, volunteers from the new campaigns being set up by Charlie and Billy, shepherded by Josh.

"Sam…"

"Hmm?"

"Are we good to move these through to the study, just for now?" Charlie stood with a couple of empty boxes, motioning to the papers that were laid out across the dining table. "I don't want to mess your system up…"

Sam snapped back to the present moment fully.

"Here … give me those … if I pack them, I can find them again."

"No problem…"

Sam started loading papers into boxes in a set order as Charlie dusted off the table left behind.

"It's real kind of you to do this…"

"Nonsense, Sarah's always saying we never open the house up enough. Every time I meet people for work, it seems to be in restaurants and offices, and it's been the same for her over the last few years. We spend all our time with other people and none of it is ever at home."

"Even so … it's still kind. Especially since everyone here's kinda new to you."

Sam smiled as through the double doors to the lounge, he saw two young women hanging up a home made banner to the curtain rail that said 'Congratulations Billy and Karen' with a decent artistic effort at lovebirds and hearts at either end.

"Charlie…?"

"Yes?"

Charlie and Sam turned to see Zoe leaning around the doorway that lead to the kitchen.

"I've just had a text from Josh, they're on their way… can you give me a hand to carry the cake through?"

Charlie's face lit up, like it always did at the unexpected sight of his wife. As the two of them carefully balanced the wedding cake, bringing it through to the dining room, Sam's heart warmed at the sight of them. It was good to know that some things had stayed on track from their first stint in the white house.

"Bring back memories?" he asked.

"Hardly…" Zoe rolled her eyes. "We should have eloped. It wasn't quite as bad as Ellie's wedding in the White House, but there was enough pomp and circumstance to make it feel like we were still there."

"It wasn't so bad…"

"Thank God you knew my father, or it would have been worse. At least Dad liked you."

"He likes his other son in laws… doesn't he?"

"He got to like Vic. He's good at looking like he likes Doug."

"He still thinks I'm about eighteen years old."

"That's an improvement, he still thinks I'm about seven…"

Andie's voice suddenly rang through from the kitchen.

"Everyone, they're here!"

The guests and helpers all clustered together into the lounge and took their places with party poppers and glasses of fizz. With giggles and elaborate shush noises, they hunkered down and waited…

"Josh, this isn't a restaurant…"

"No, not exactly, but there's wedding gift here for you guys to pick up."

"I've not been here before, who lives here?"

"Come on…" Josh stopped the car and got out, motioning for them to follow. Toby noted with pleased assurance that he had maintained his ability to get people to do as he asked without answering direct questions. He followed on behind the others at a discreet distance.

Josh opened the front door to the palatial suburban house, set into immaculate grounds. His own house was nice, comfortable and well decorated with conservative taste, but every time he came to Sam's house, he realised exactly what he had given up in terms of material comfort in choosing political ambitions over the private practice of law. He remembered what Sam had said, in California, about how much money he was making out there. It won't make you want to puke. You'll actually puke. He hadn't been kidding. This house was beyond comfortable, it was mesmerising.

Inside, the lobby was white marble, with a large staircase rising up in front of the door, with doors set off around the sides through slightly curved walls. Josh occasionally teased Sam that it was like his very own oval office. Sam had ceased rising to the bait.

Sam himself emerged through one of the doors, dressed down in Versace jeans and a fresh blue shirt, looking tanned and enviably fit and healthy even in the midst of an east coast winter.

"Josh …! Billy, Karen, congratulations. Look, I hope you don't mind, but Josh spilled the beans so I could organise a gift for you… it's in here…"

Confused, bemused, the two newlyweds entered through the side doors to a cacophony of shouts, noise and voices.

"SURPRISE!"

Confetti and popper streams showered over the, someone tooted a kazoo and the whole room burst out into enthusiastic applause. Billy looked around, stunned, taking in the sight of their friends, their volunteers, people he had met on the campaigns, people like Charlie and his wife, and Congresswoman Wyatt, and all the decorations and work that had gone into this party for them. The banner with their names on hung overhead and an impressive white cake stood to one side…

Karen was openly weeping for joy.

"You don't mind, do you?" Sam said softly behind them.

"Mind? Oh, Mr Seaborn…"

"Sam…"

"Sam! This is the best…"

Sam turned and heard some footsteps coming down from upstairs. A discreet suited gentleman stood in the lobby, his back to the front door, now closed. He nodded imperceptibly to Sam, who captured a passing champagne glass and scooped up a cake fork to ding against it.

Dingdingdingding…

"Ladies, gentlemen, friends, honoured guests… We are here today to celebrate the nuptials of Billy and Karen…"

A smattering of applause broke out. Sam was a good enough public speaker to let it be shushed in its own time.

"Now … as host, it should fall to me to make the first toast, but there's a guest who claimed that privilege for himself. Billy, Karen, I hope you won't mind, he was here in town to see family, and when he heard that we were putting on this party for you, he simply couldn't resist coming to see you, and say a few words. My friends, I give you, President Bartlett…"

Sam stepped to one side and ushered in the older man stood behind him, who walked with a cane beside his elegant wife. The whole room fell into a stunned silence as the man who had changed the world entered the room, his grey hair now shining, laced with white, his hands gnarled and beginning to show signs of arthritis, but his eyes were as sharp and his smile as warm and welcoming as it had ever been.

Billy and Karen were overwhelmed.

"Mr President…"

"President Bartlett…"

"Mr and Mrs Weston, I must apologise for gate crashing this… wonderful private party. It's entirely my fault, I came to surprise my daughter Zoe, and it turned out she was here helping everyone to get this event ready for you. And when she told me a little about what you, and Charlie, are trying to do here in Maryland, to get some more young folk elected to our noble houses of Congress and Senate, well … it fired up all the old interests and I had to stick around and say a few words. Not too many, mind, my wife won't let me talk too long, nor eat too much cake…"

Jed reached across to take Abbey's hand, as she gently swatted him and shushed his fanciful ways. The room tittered with warm appreciation of the marriage so many of them had aspired to in their youth.

"Billy, I wish you all God's blessings on this day, and to you also, Karen. Your friends will give you a party to remember, but try to find a moment today to stop and remember what's important, your love for each other, in all of this. It will keep you grounded in the months to come. We need more people of your generation involved in leading this great nation of ours. Committed, grounded, sure of themselves and of each other, with friends who will support and sustain them when times get rough. And in politics they will. This… lovely woman next to me is an expert in keeping people alive, which along with her love for me has been the greatest blessing of my life, for I surely wouldn't be standing here today after living my life without her as my partner in everything I have done."

Abbey dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"And now, I can see a fabulous party waiting to start, so everybody, please raise your glasses, and let's give a glorious toast to the bride and groom, to Billy and Karen!"

"Billy and Karen!"

The room broke into applause. Jed came forward to shake Billy's hand, and say in a low voice "You just try to make her happy. If you can do that, every day, everything else will fall into place."

"I'll surely try sir."

"And you, young lady… I can see that you already make him happy. You just keep doing that and you'll be just fine."

"Thank you sir…"

Jed stretched a hand up to stroke her face gently, his eyes were suddenly looked sad and wise at the same time.

Billy retrieved the cake fork from Sam and dinged his own glass.

"Ladies, gentlemen, friends… I won't speak for long, but as groom, I believe I have the right to a few words."

The room fell quiet.

"I won't try to compete with the… extremely kind and eloquent words this wonderful man just gave to us. We're honoured to have you here as our guests, Mr President, Doctor Bartlet. I didn't write a speech, because I had no idea I was coming to a party!"

A cheer rang out around the room.

"But… but I should have counted on some form of celebration, because the day when this… amazing woman, agreed to become my wife, my life partner … well, those sorts of good fortunes don't cross a man's path too often, and we should mark them when they do."

Billy reached for Karen's hand.

"I knew on the day I met you, that I had to know you. And once I knew you, I had to be with you. And once I had you with me… I never wanted to let you go. And now that I know I don't have to… there aren't words fit for my joy. I want everything for us that I want for this great nation of ours. Safety… peace… prosperity… friendship and strong allies… and love. I don't expect us to always agree, in fact I hope we won't. Because when we don't, you convince me, and corral me, and question me, and push me to explain myself, clarify my position, consider my direction and bring me out of the whole thing more sure than when I started, even if I'm facing the other way. You are the best debating partner I could have, and when we debate, our relationship only gets stronger. And you have shown me that if this country is going to get stronger, we have to engage in debate, not be scared, open our ears and hearts and show what we truly believe. Only when we do that without being scared of the responses will we make progress. And so… friends… if you could once more raise your glasses with me and toast to this … incredible woman, who makes me a better man every day, to my wife, Mrs Karen Weston!"

"Karen Weston!"

Karen captured Billy for a kiss as the party split off into conversations, congratulations, gifts and good wishes.

Jed inched over towards Sam and Toby, who were stood to one side.

"He didn't write a speech…?"

"Nope."

"Nuh, uh."

"On your words of honour neither of you helped him?"

"Not a bit of it. That was all him. And off the cuff too." Toby looked impressed. Sam just shook his head in wonder. Jed nodded, his eyes on Billy.

"Get this man into office, gentlemen. Whatever it takes. Call on me if you need me, but I'm sure things are well in hand. Who's running the show?"

"Josh."

"Is he, now? Good..."

With a beaming smile and not a flicker of change in his eyes, Jed Bartlet moved smoothly away and joined the party with Abbey, first stopping to chat with Zoey and Charlie, before being introduced to some of them younger people at the party.

Toby made a small noise of surprised satisfaction to himself. Sam turned to him with interest.

"What?"

"Some years ago… when we were looking for the right candidate to go up against Vinick, I gave Josh a hard time about backing Santos. I asked him why he didn't come to me, why we hadn't picked a candidate together. I was… arrogant. Stupid. I had my head further up my ass than usual, and I was scared that CJ and I were being left to run the show for the last years of the Bartlett administration, and… well. Yes. But now…"

"Now what?"

Toby smiled and poured a hefty slug of whiskey into a glass from a side table.

"Now… we get to see what happens, when Josh and I agree on the right candidate. Only in this scenario, we have you on board as well."

He turned and handed the glass to Sam, then reached for a second, and plenished it with a lavish hand.

"What's this?"

"This… is my scotch. My Lagavulin."

"I'm allowed to drink it now?"

"It's graduation day, Sam," Toby chincked his glass against Sam's. "Time to join the new king-maker's table. And we're going to start with him…" he pointed at Billy, "And help Charlie, and then see who else we can line up and shepherd into political life under the Democratic banner."

Sam took a sip. It was smokey, powerful and strong, tinged with the scents of peat and sherry, filling his nose and throat with a delicious flavour of masculinity and adulthood. He understood why Toby had made him wait so long for his first taste.

"Well…" he raised his glass and met the eyes of his old mentor. "Let's go to work."

Chapter Text

Lyman-Moss Household

It was still raining outside.

"He's late," Josh was pacing in the dining room, which had been re-purposed into a meeting room.

"He'll be here…" Donna put down the tray with the cafetiere and cream and sugar, and looked around the room with satisfaction. It looked right for the job now. The heavy furniture containing dinner services and cut glass ornaments had been emptied by several willing volunteers and the selves now held empty box files and mazazine stands, ready to be filled with papers. Two large whiteboards were fixed to two of the walls, a new wireless router had been installed and finally, after three irate phonecalls, a beleagured technician had visited to upgrade the phone line and connection. Now the house could sustain the dozen or so internet capable devices needed at any given time.

"I know… but he's late…"

The doorbell rang. Donna went to answer and discovered Sam outside in the dripping rain, carrying a box wrapped in his overcoat.

"Sam, you're soaked…"

"Yes, but the donuts are dry…"

He deposited them onto the dining table and looked around with a smile.

"He's late?"

"Yep". Josh sipped his coffee, now sitting down, but his feet tapping with suppressed energy.

"SAM! Come here and get a towel…"

"Excuse me…" Sam nodded to Josh, who hadn't even noticed his friend's sodden state.

The doorbell rang again.

"COME IN!" yelled Josh.

A few seconds later, Toby peered around the door.

"You could have just answered the door instead of shouting." Donna emerged from the kitchen, a cross expression on her face.

"My way was faster."

"He's not here yet?" Toby's eyebrows raised.

"No, he's late…"

Sam came in, divested of jacket and tie, towelling off his hair, looking rumpled but pleased with himself.

"Do you need me for this?" Donna turned to Josh.

"I always need you," said Josh softly, reaching Donna's hand. She smiled down at him indulgently. "But no, if you want to go get some rest, we'll be fine. Actually, if you want to jump back in later, it'd be good to have some fresh eyes for what we fine."

The doorbell rang one more time. Donna went to get it and returned with a highly excited Billy, who clutched a manilla envelope wrapped in a plastic bag. She waved a little salute to Josh and turned to go back upstairs.

"You're late…" all three of the older men stated as one voice, before looking at each other accusingly.

"I am," Billy was unrepentant. "But I come bearing treasure…"

He decanted the papers onto the table from the envelope, the top one stamped with the logo of Family League of Baltimore.

Josh looked up at his young protege, hopefully. "They had everything?"

"Everything…"

"Oh my God…"

"Yeah."

"OK … let's get started." Josh started leafing through and dividing up the papers between all of the men. He tipped a box of highlighters onto the table, and a box of red pens.

"So… what are we looking for?" Sam started speed reading through his selection on Somerset County.

"Anything that reduces you to shock and awe. Anything that makes you go … 'wow' or 'that's not OK'."

A few minutes passed while all of them studied and occasionally circled and scribbled onto their packs. As soon as one was finished, they stacked it to one side with a few notes on the cover and reached for a second.

One by one, they drew to a halt, throwing down the papers and exhaling. Billy and Toby brought up the read, tossing in their packets and pens.

"Wow…" said Billy.

"Wow indeed." Josh reached for the cafetiere and began filling up the cups. Sam reached for the donuts and handed them around.

"Ok, so where do we start?" Billy looked over towards Josh for guidance. Josh took up a pen and went over to the whiteboard.

"Ok…" he began scribbling. "Let's start with the overall stats for the State. Who's got some wow factor for me?"

"Good or bad?"

"Whatever…"

"OK," Sam took up his notepad. "Here's some stuff… More than 23% of students pass AP credits in high school in this state, which is the highest score nationwide. There are three public schools that are in the top 100 schools nationwide. "

"Wow…" Billy was stunned. "So… when it comes to education, the state is getting things right?"

"It looks that way doesn't it…" Sam smiled. "But if they're getting things right, why is DC getting things so wrong? What's the difference in a few miles? These are the things you need to start thinking about before your opponents throw it back in your face."

"OK … next…"

Toby cleared his throat.

"Maryland has the highest median household income of any state."

Josh write the note up on the board.

"Would anyone have been surprised by that last week?"

All the head shook.

"Who's surprised to hear that now?"

"After reading all that?" Billy pointed to the paper, "I am. I mean … if that's the middle point, we must have some high earners in this state… but for everyone who earns more than that, there are people who earn less."

Josh smiled, "and that… if your first debating point, when people ask about taxes. Why a state with high incomes vote for more taxes...?"

"Because only half of them have high incomes, and the others need more investment, which only comes from taxes."

"Exactly," Sam cut back in. "Which, to give Marylanders their credit, is something they do know, it's one of the reasons they vote Democrat generally. But … they might need reminding of it, now that they've got a Republican senator in play."

"Here's something I noticed… it's small, but we can work with it… there are more women living in this state than men." Billy fished out a piece of paper. "51% women, 49% men."

"That's … significant when combined with some of the other stats," Josh scribbled some more. "OK, what else?"

"How's your history?" Toby smiled. "Because I've got some bits and pieces to throw in, which I'm sure some of you learned in high school, but you might have forgotten."

"Shoot…"

"When it was first founded, it was intended to be a safe place for Catholics to settle, free from persecution."

"Did that work?"

"Not always, but if we're going to preach religious and racial tolerance, we can start with intent…"

"Gotcha."

"And Maryland plantations began freeing their slaves within twenty years of the Revolutionary War."

"I wouldn't go down that route..." Billy raised a hand and interjected. "Harriet Tubman was born in Maryland."

"There are other directions we can go on the issue of race." Josh nodded, scribbling HT up in the corner and underlining it. "But it might be worth flagging up that things here are far from perfect even all this time later and it's an insult to her memory that we haven't got it right yet. Alright..." He tossed the marker onto the desk and sat down. "Let's get into it. We want… wow facts. Shockers. Show stoppers. Stuff that makes you think, why haven't we fixed this yet?"

A few moments of silence passed as everyone else waited for someone to start.

Billy spoke, with extreme sadness in his voice. "There are over 570,000 people living in poverty in Maryland today." Josh scribbled the figure up on the board. "I'm actually … I didn't know that. We look around and think this place is great, but… for those people, it really isn't."

"And that…" Josh pointed a marker at him, "is what you need to keep coming back to when someone questions your inexperience or youth. For all that time that the elders have had in power, this fact has remained hidden, and these issues continue. Anyone got a nice, round fraction for speeches?"

"One in twelve," Toby said softly. "More than one in twelve people in this state live in poverty."

"Give me more numbers."

"Over nine percent of people in Maryland have no insurance," said Sam. "Almost one in ten. And almost 17% use Medicaid."

"Forty five percent of kids are eligible for free school meals." Sam read from his sheet.

"And yet we have the best schools according to test scores?" Billy was incredulous. "That's insane, that's … like, thirteen kids in every class of thirty students."

"Keep 'em coming."

"Thirteen percent of children live in poverty. Twenty six percent of households headed by a single woman live in poverty. And fifteen percent of African Americans live in poverty."

"So… for this campaign to work, we need to target schools. Community colleges. African-American communities. Women's charities and programmes that support single moms." Billy was scribbling notes. "Now I begin to see how this works. The break down tells us which areas to target in which communities right?"

"Exactly," said Josh. "That's exactly right. And in the communities that are thriving you focus on the idea that the Democrats got it right for them, and we need Democrat representation to come back into play. Those are the places we target for your fundraising. So..."

Josh moved over to the other whiteboard and picked up a donut.

"Let's look at the local areas and see what we can pull out…"

"Anne Arundel County…" Sam started, pouring more coffee. "Pretty low rankings for poverty compared to the other areas, ranked 5th for median income, $89,000. Fundraising target."

"On the other hand, Baltimore City… Ranked worst for poverty, child poverty and senior poverty. Compared to Anne Arundel, the median income is just shy of $42,000…" Toby leafed through the packet about Baltimore City. "Childcare is the most expensive compared to salary. Twenty nine percent of a family's income is spent on childcare."

"So, for every three dollars that parents earn to care for their children, they spend one of those dollors on childcare to keep them safe while they go to work. How is that a good thing?" Billy was now making crib notes into a notebook.

Josh and Toby locked eyes above Billy's head. Damn this kid was good. Billy looked up and caught them staring.

"What?"

"When you say things like that," Josh ran a hand through his thinning hair, "You make me glad I said 'yes' to this."

"Almost nine percent of residents in Baltimore City are unemployed." Toby looked up from the booklet. "I wonder how many of them can't afford the childcare to go back to work…"

"What else…"

"One in three people in Baltimore City received food stamp assistance last year."

"I think I'm going to be spending a lot of time in parts of Baltimore City."

"It looks that way now, but… don't fall into the trap of spending all your time there and neglecting the other areas of the states. It's tempting, for any Senate candidate, to concentrate their efforts into the big cities. But, it's not always for the best. Anything else, Toby?"

"Just one … Eighty two percent of children in Baltimore City were eligible for free school meals last year."

"Wow…" Billy stopped writing.

"Yeah that's a wow…" Josh turned to face Billy, who was rapt in thought. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm wondering what counties those top three schools are in? And what proportion of kids in Baltimore City graduate with AP credits? And what percentage of the students are those top performing schools were white?"

Toby and Josh grinned at each other. There was little so satisfying in a good campaign strategy meeting as someone who could ask exactly the right questions…

"Write those questions down for now, and pass them to Sam. He will know who knows the answers, and who to call to get them. Let's keep going for now, what about Baltimore County…"

By the time they were finished, everyone was exhausted and felt grubby, not to mention a little disheartened. They had ploughed through some of the most depressing and worrying statistics about one of the most prosperous and successful eastern states of America.

"I feel…" Sam stretched… "like we just scraped all the shine off the brochure."

"Yeah…" Josh cracked his neck.

"You two didn't work much on state wide campaigns did you?"

"Not for Senate" Sam shook his head. "I worked on a few congressional campaigns as a student in California, when I was at Princeton. But I got too busy at Duke once I made Law Review. I was a staffer for Richardson, and late for Reeseman, but they both hired me after their campaigns were already tied up. I worked for the D triple C for a while, and then I got offered the job at Dewey Ballantine after Jeffrey Ross decided not to stand for re-election... ."

"I was chief of staff for Congressman Brennan, for a while, but then I went into Washington roles… floor manager, floor director … when I wasn't the minority' whip's punching bag. Then I got the job with Hoynes, so … it's been a while since I looked at things on a state level."

"What about you, Professor Ziegler?"

Toby smiled, made a small huff.

"I worked on city council races, two congressional races, a senate race, a governor's campaign, and three national campaigns. I won the last two, the two Bartlet campaigns."

"Why did you lose?"

"Because I was working with idiots with no ears and big mouths."

Billy laughed. "I hope I'm not one of those."

"You're here, aren't you?"

"So … what happens next…?"

"Next … we look at this and start pulling patterns out. We start looking at which areas you're going to, and looking at the congressional candidates in those areas. We match you up with the ones where you have interests in line, and keep you away from those where your paths diverge. We start making contact with organisations in those areas … schools, colleges, libraries… organisations like Planned Parenthood and the Maryland Womens' Alliance and the National Council of Black American Affairs, and setting up events with them. We get people on board to start organising registration events, and get you to start promoting registration for high school seniors, people at community college, people are unemployment centres… anywhere that's been ignored, disenfranchised, dismissed… And we pull all of that together into a schedule. Which will last for about ten minutes, and then it will become a constantly evolving monster that eats your life."

"I hope that you like fast food, cold coffee and sleeping on different forms of transport, Billy…" Donna came downstairs and into the room. "Because cheetos and Mountain Dew will look like a banquet towards the end of all this…. Hey you…" she came over to take Josh's extended hand.

"Hi… did you sleep?"

"A little. But I'm starving. Are you done?"

"Done with round one."

"Shall I call out…?"

"Nah," Josh kissed the back of her hand. "I got this. Who's hungry?"

Everyone made vague yes-sounding noises.

"Right … come on Billy, come give me a hand, let's go make the biggest stir-fry the house has ever seen… Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"Could you...start making a list of phone numbers that might be useful, and Toby? Can you start looking for black holes and third rails?"

Toby was already pulling pages out of the booklets and making notes in the margins.

As Donna, Josh and Billy drifted towards the kitchen, the shape of the Weston Campaign began to take shape across the dining room table.

Chapter Text

Three Months Later

The phone rang just as Josh was ripping open another box of leaflets. He dived across to pick up the handset balanced in the fruit bowl.

"Hello?"

"So how many boxes have you got around your feet for you to fall over?"

"CJ?"

"You bet… how's it going Mi Amore?"

"You haven't called me that in years…"

"I haven't adored you this much in years, what you're doing up there is really picking up traction."

"Really? 'Cause, I'm like, so focused on this one state, I've not even watched national news in weeks."

"Haven't you heard what they're calling your movement?"

Josh resigned himself to the fact that this was going to be a long call, but he was secretly pleased. Toby was wrapped up in grading his papers for Columbia, not to mention catching up in overdue spadework on a collaborative book with a colleague, while Sam was out of the country again in Frankfurt for a summit on… something. Josh had forgotten.

"Enlighten me … we have a name now? We didn't pick a name…"

"You're going to want credit for this one. They're calling you the New Blues."

"That's … catchy…"

"You've got a hashtag too."

"What's a hashtag?"

"Ask one of your high school volunteers."

"I'll do that… So … how are things going with you?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly?"

"I'm so bored…"

"That doesn't sound like you. Aren't things hotting up with Emily's List?"

"My contract ended last month, and frankly, they can't afford me, and the world is changing. I'm not as in touch with the media now that Twitter is a thing. It doesn't all come down to the New York Times and the Washington Post any more. It's all … YouTube… and Instagram."

"You sound disgusted."

"I just don't like change. I'd just got used to blogs."

"Yeah…"

Josh scratched his head and wondered when he had gotten so old. When Santos had been running for the first time, everyone had looked at Josh strangely when he had insisted on setting up interviews and meet and greets with bloggers, but it had gotten them a lot of traction in the expanding vista of online media. But now … he'd suggested that at a meeting last week and all the young people aged under thirty had looked at him with something akin to pity and confusion, like he was a pensioner at the library asking to see the gramophone record collection.

"So..."

"So?"

"So I'm thinking I might give what you're working on a try."

"In...what way?"

"Well … you know … look for some fresh blood. New candidates. Young hot shots looking to unseat the boring old farts that we were battling against in our day. Start a revolution down here."

"It's … invigorating, I'll say that. Do you have anyone in mind?"

"Not sure… But would you mind?"

"Mind what?"

"Me … stepping into your movement… opening the California branch, so to speak…"

"Why on earth would I mind? And it's not really my movement…"

Josh could hear CJ smiling through the phoneline.

"That's not what they're saying in the op eds. You should check them out."

"Are you coming out east soon?"

"Next month … Danny's got a meeting with some of the execs at HBO. You should talk to him by the way. He's got a line in to the Really Late Show bookers."

"I'll do that, I'll give him a call."

"You've got his cell?"

"Somewhere."

"Good. How's Donna?

"Getting more enormous by the minute."

"Don't let her hear you say that. Give her my love, won't you? Talk to you soon, Josh."

"Alright. Later."

Josh replaced the phone amongst the bananas and sighed. A movement? New Blues? All he had intended was to give a kid a few pointers on a campaign to be Senator. But once they'd teamed up with Charlie and his volunteer base, and started working alongside Andie, more and more young democrat candidates from the north east had started coming forward. New candidates for Congress aged 27 or 28 were running in half a dozen states, Young people were signing up for city hall races, school board races, mayoral campaigns. For the first time that Josh could remember, there was a democratic candidate for Governor in New Hampshire who was aged under 40.

He tried to think back to what CJ had once said in a speech at the Rock The Vote event during the second Bartlet campaign. Only twenty five percent of 18-24 year olds voted and they only made up seven percent of the voting electorate, even though they accounted for a third of the population. CJ had berated them for thinking that government wasn't about them, even though they had student loans to pay, taxes to pay, credit card debt to field… could it be the the internet age had finally accomplished what all of those rallies had failed to do? Young people were finally beginning to realise that decisions would be made by those who showed up. And not only were they voting … they were running…

Josh shook his head and turned back to his leaflets when the phone rang again.

"Hello…?" He clamped it beneath jaw on to his shoulder?

"Hello … is that… Josh Lyman?"

The voice was feminine. A slow, southern drawl. Familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Uh, yeah … this is Josh…"

"Josh, it's me. Ainsley."

"Ainsley?"

"Ainsley Hayes?"

Josh's eyebrows shot up, and he almost dropped the phone.

"Ainsley… Ainsley Hayes? White House Counsel's Office Ainsley Hayes?"

"Yep, the very same…"

"Wow…"

"Yeah…"

"Wow…"

"Uhuh"

"How are you…? I haven't seen you in… God, what has it been?"

"Years."

"Wow…."

"Yeah…"

"Are you still at the… y'know?"

"Counsel's office?"

"Yeah."

"No. Uh… no. No. I left."

"You left?"

"I quit."

"You quit…?!"

"U-huh."

"Wow…"

"Look, Josh, I…"

"Why did you call?"

"Sorry?"

"I mean … what can I do for you? What's the occasion?"

"Well … I got your number from Sam. I was in Frankfurt, we ran into each other there, and we caught up over a drink, and he told me what y'all are trying to do over in Maryland."

"U-huh…?"

"Yeah… and… well ... Josh, how old do you think I am?"

"I ... um ... sorry, what? How old are you?"

Josh sat down on the floor among the leaflets, feeling like his mind was on a rollercoaster through a random vocal landscape.

"Yes. How old do you think I am?"

"I don't know, I guess, a little younger than me? You were, what, 28, when you came to work for the White House Counsel's Office?"

"Uhuh. And how long ago was that?"

"About twelve, thirteen years ago?"

"Yeah."

"So, you're around forty?"

"Yes. That's exactly right. So why is it when I go to meetings with the Republican Leadership that I still get treated like a silly little girl who knows nothing and should shut up and let the grown ups do the talking?"

Josh blinked for a moment.

"So…"

"Josh, I'm thinking of doing what you're doing."

"What I'm doing?"

"Your movement."

"My movement?"

"Josh, are you just going to repeat everything I say for this phonecall?"

"I...uh… I tend to do that when I'm having trouble processing what the other person is saying."

"OK. Let me put it in simple words. I'm tired of this country being run by old people. Including my own party. Especially my own party. When you and I were young, we managed to move beyond party lines and work together. Real cooperation. True spirit of bipartisanship, not just the odd leadership breakfast and photo op. I got hired to work as counsel by two democrat presidents, even though I'm an absolute Republican. One of those presidents was advised by young people; the other was a young president himself. Don't you think our country has a better chance of moving forward if we can get more young people elected on both sides of the house of representatives?"

"Alright… you have my attention."

"I know you would prefer all blues in the seats, but can we live in the real world for just a moment?"

"No … I get you. I understand. I, uh…"

"Josh?"

"Sorry. You just … made my brain go round a corner."

"Ouch. Well that sounds uncomfortable."

"It is, a bit…"

"Well … would the corner be less uncomfortable if we discussed this in person some time?"

"You're...in Washington?"

Ainsley made that mm-hmm noise that Josh associated with all young, bright blonde southern women.

"Where are you working…?"

"I'm… sounding out possibilities."

"You need a job."

"I need a job. But not really NEED a job, because..."

"Because you were a White House Counsel lawyer and now charge more money than God per hour when you choose to."

"Something like that."

"Look, lemme talk to some people and… let's have lunch? Next week?"

"Sure! Tuesday Ok?"

"I'll book a table at Rubios."

"Oooh, fancy… 1 o'clock ok?"

"See you there."

"Bye Josh…"

Josh sat staring at the phone for a little while, feeling discombobulated. He recalled Sam telling him how a conversation was Ainsley was always enough to shake his world and turn it on its head. He hadn't quite reached that level. But it was possible he might next Tuesday.

Chapter Text

"Look, are you sure I should go?"

Donna looked up in annoyance having slammed the suitcase shut. For the past hour, she had packed and repacked and repacked it as Josh kept taking things out and finding reasons to abandon his planned trip to New York.

"Joshua…!"

"Don't….Don't do that, don't "Joshua" me, I'm serious."

Josh came over to take her hands as she removed the washbag from his grip and tucked it into the overnight bag's front pocket. She relented a little at seeing how worried he was, but his worrying and mother hen style clucking had driven her to distraction.

"Josh … if you don't go, there is a strong possibility that I might murder you in the next two days. You need an existence which doesn't revolve around asking me if I am OK."

At almost eight and a half months pregnant, Donna looked tired, utterly washed out, but as determined beneath the exhaustion as she had been in the long final hours of the Santos campaign.

"I just … I want to be there for you. When it all happens."

"And you will be. It's just a two day trip. And if the worst came to it, it's only New York. There must be, what, fifty flights a day? Between Dulles and LaGuardia? You spend longer in the car heading to the hill some days."

"It just feels different."

"What, because you're getting on a plane?"

"No, because you're so … just so… well, pregnant."

Josh stroked her baby bump lovingly. Baby obliged with a well timed kick.

"Look, I've still got two weeks to go. If it's on time. And it might be late. First babies often are. I'd come with you, but I don't think I'd fit in the seat."

The two shared a little giggle, before Donna put her hands on Josh's shoulders.

"But you're going. Because I don't want to murder you. OK? I promise to be good, drink my water, eat my snacks, take my vitamins and rest with my feet up for two hours a day."

"Make it three and we've got a deal."

Donna laughed despite herself. "OK deal. But now … go to New York, meet Danny, go see the people he wants you to meet with Billy, and get this set up. If you can get him onto this late show, this might really tip things in his favour. It would be a coup, an absolutely massive one, one that CJ would be proud of."

"I know."

"So…"

"So…"

"Let's get you gone."

Their goodbye at the door was short and sweet, just enough affection to send Josh away reassured without all of his anxiety taking charge of his desire to stay.

All the way to the airport, Josh warred with himself. It was only his fear of Donna's wrath which kept him on the path to the airport. She was right, after all, it was a short flight and a short trip, and the gains for the campaign were potentially huge, but he didn't like being more than a short sharp car dash away from her when she looked like she could pop any minute.

With practiced ease, Josh parked his car, headed into the airport, checked in and settled to wait for the flight. He was hopelessly early, having lost the ability to arrive at the last minute for anything, so he settled into the lounge, pulled out a stack of tracking poll numbers, and started to make some notes based on the new data. Billy kept threatening to get him an ipad to analyse the data instead of printing it. Josh had managed to avoid the new onslaught of technology as yet.

There was a strange noise behind him, before two small warm hands covered his eyes from behind and a lisping voice yelled 'Boo!' strangely loudly in his ear.

Dropping his papers, Josh turned around with his pen raised, ready to stab the unknown assailant, and found himself facing a familiar long thin face, framed with soft waves of fading blonde hair, wide eyed and grinning wildly.

A disembodied male voice floated in from the side, as the woman's hands moved.

"Well … thank God it's you… that could have been really embarrassing."

Josh blinked a little, suddenly recognising both the woman in front of him, and the male voice voicing her hand movements.

"Joey?"

Joey Lucas spoke in her own voice, still lisping, slightly out of sync, belying her deafness.

"Yep. I's still me."

Josh hurried around the chair to greet her with a hug, and turned to give Kenny, her interpreter a quick handshake and greeting before turning back to face Joey.

"Sorry I couldn't resist," she signed, as Kenny voiced. "I saw you sitting there all intent on your papers, and you clearly needed distracting."

"No, I, uh, I definitely needed distracting. And what a distraction. What on earth are you doing here?"

"Flying to New York. Then on to LAX. Heading home."

"Aw damn, if I'd known you were here…"

"You'd have been too busy to meet me anyway. That's fine. I read the New York Times. You really have been a busy boy…"

"You could say that. Too busy to read the New York Times, for one."

"And regularly. You'll have your fanclub in quite the middle aged frenzy."

They sat down in the airport lounge seats after Josh had recollected his scattered papers and numbers. Joey squinted at the papers.

"Polling data?"

"Yeah… the D triple C just got some figures back."

"I know." She smiled proudly.

The penny dropped for Josh.

"That was you! You were in town for the results conference."

"Yes."

"Wow… I didn't know you were working with them, I thought you were still working for Reuters."

"Freelance. I'm … taking some time out. I might need some time to myself in the coming months." Joe gave him an enormous wink and proudly patted her stomach. Josh felt unexpectedly warm and gooey on the inside at the news she was to be a mother again.

"That's amazing news Joey. Congratulations. How old's little Jess now?"

"Not so little any more. Eight years old, and taking charge at elementary school. Proud as punch that she's fluent in three languages, what with her signing to me, speaking Spanish with her father, and English with her grandparents."

Josh rested his hand on his face and Joey leaned forward to capture his hand. She smiled and ran a finger over his wedding ring.

"Everything seems to have turned out right for you, too."

Josh grinned and dug in his wallet for the picture of the most recent scan.

"More than you know…" he said proudly, passing it over.

Joey made that universal noise that all females make when presented with evidence of a new baby on the way. She spread her fingers wide into starfish, clamped them onto Josh's cheeks and leaned in for a big smooch. Josh felt pleasantly stunned, as if hit by a platonic asteroid.

"When?"

"About two weeks time."

"How is she?"

"Exhausted. Frazzled. Waiting for it to be over. But glowing."

"How perfect," Joey lisped, then signed for the more complex follow up. "Tell Donna I will give her a video call. Jess can sign for me now, we can have a little girly talk."

"I'll do that." For all his techno-phobic ways, Josh marvelled at how much video conferencing must have opened up a vista for Joey in terms of being able to communicate face to face with old friends across long distances.

"But for now…" Joey collected her own bag and pulled out the handle. "I must be on my way to grab a coffee. Maybe see you on the plane? But if not, it was great to see you. Good luck with the campaign. And..." She rummaged in her purse and pulled out her copy of the New York Times, handing it over to Josh, who took it, so that she could continue signing. "You should read this. It might be more enlightening than your polling data."

"Take care Joey."

"And you Josh… Take care."

OP ED: The New Blues? A Rising Tide of Youth Energy in the Democratic Party.

Greg Brock - New York Times

Not so long ago, any candidate under 40 would have been dismissed out of hand, labelled as 'kooky' or a 'fringe' candidate and not given serious consideration by the leadership of either major policial parties. Then along came a new brand of Democrats in the North East, lead by Congressional Candidate Charles Young and baby faced Senatorial Candidate William Fernandez-Weston. Or, as their volunteers and target voters know them, Charlie and Billy.

In Maryland, New York, Vermont, New Hampshire and even as far north as Maine, young candidates have been signing up for political campaigns in their droves, for seats at the biggest tables for the most important conversations. While America has battled a wave of apathy among young voters in the last twenty years, with turnout slumping into single figures in the last four Presidential Elections for the 18-24 year old age bracket, it would seem that a revolution is underway, lead by an active twitter following and championed by an army of youth activists, calling themselves the New Blues, with a hashtag to match. Interestingly, rather than just one party quaking in their boots, the veterans of both seem to be casting nervous glances around them. The Democratic old guard are as much at risk of having the political rug pulled out from under their feet as the Republican party elders.

The battle lines are being drawn, and they are firmly across the age divides for once. A visit to Young's campaign headquarters looks like a Benetton Ad from a distance, a mishmash of gender, colour, race and ethnicity, humming with positivity and fizzing with suppressed energy. The uniting factor across the whole operation? Not one of the staff is aged over forty.

"My generation has served the longest apprenticeship in every field," states Charlie, as he insists I call him upon sitting down in his tiny back roomed office. "We have watched our elders take their time, trying to tackle these issues and problems, which my generation, and those behind me, are going to have to clean up the mess for. We're tired of partisan politics getting in the way of these issues being sorted out. It's time to stop being interns and step up to the plate."

A veteran of the political scene of sorts, Young has grown up in the glare of Washington politics. As a young man, he was bodyman to President Bartlet, throughout the first six years of his presidency, before working as Special Assistant to White House Chief of Staff, CJ Cregg. He certainly had an excellent view from behind the plate of the political ball game being played out at the highest level.

"I used to read and sort the mail, for the office of the President," Young explains, passing over a cup of coffee. No assistants in sight, this candidate is self sufficient. "I know first hand the problems that my generation are facing, and the one approaching fast behind me. Young people, children, in their droves, wrote week after week to the President, asking him to tackle the issues facing their families. Moms who couldn't get medical care, Dads who couldn't find jobs, brothers and sisters scared to go to school after intruders brought guns onto their high school campuses. And bigger picture stuff too… worries about the water being dirty, the air not being clean, animals dying and the planet getting sick… It's up to us to step up and address those, without getting bogged down in the fighting between political sides."

It's a story echoed by Senate Candidate William Fernandez-Weston, who insists that I call him Billy. His office is just down the street from Young's, having originally started out co-renting and camping out in an unused closet in Young's own campaign space. "Well, when you're young and starting out, you learn to be frugal," he jokes. "My generation knows how to share, and how to save our pennies. We've had to. But now, we've had a long time to think about what to spend them on. We've got some strong ideas we'd like to share."

So what's lead to this explosion in political energy? Various people have pointed fingers to some of the older and more politically savvy svengalis behind the scenes of these campaign. Figures such as Congresswoman Wyatt, approaching re-election and keen to support both of these young and upcoming candidates. Or Joshua Lymon, former senior advisor to both Presidents Bartlett and Santos. Notably absent from the political scene for a number of years, he's been involved in the campaigns of both Young and Weston, who are keen to praise his input and welcome him back into the political alignment.

"Josh has always been one of the sharpest political minds in Washington," Young explains, with a look of fond deference. "It's about time he got back into the action."

Although not, it seems, as a recruiter, but the recruited.

"Yeah," Billy gives an endearing chuckle, "That's my fault. I tracked him down through various contacts and refused to go away until he agreed to help me get started. He's a fantastic mentor and ally to have on your team, but please don't think that this campaign is having its strings pulled. The key staff here were on board long before that point. We all believe in what we're doing here."

Even before last week, he was the focus of much attention and the vessel of many Democratic hopes, because he's the likely Democratic nominee for Rollins' Senate seat, which Democrats believe they can flip into their column as they try to recapture the Senate majority. With the recent confirmation that Rollins would in fact seek re-election himself, in the traditionally Democratic state of Maryland, that fight is likely to be an historic and interesting one to watch. If Rollins wins, it will be the first time a Republican Senator has kept their seat in Maryland since J. Glenn Beall, Sr. scraped his way to victory in 1958. If Weston wins, he will be the youngest Senator elected since 1821. Victory would make Weston a major national star, and it would send him to the Senate — at just 30. The youngest senator currently is Geoff Wilkins, 39, a Kansas Republican. The youngest Democrat in the Senate is Guy Watkins, 42, from Pennsylvania.

Weston's professional history and legislative record aren't wildly impressive, but his talent for public speaking, as evidenced by his speeches in support of the teachers' unions during their recent strike action, warrants note. As does his increasingly healthy campaign donation total.

We wait and watch with interest, to see where these young and upcoming candidates go. Win or lose, one thing is for certain: the upcoming midterms will not be the end of their story.

****

Josh folded the paper and stashed it into his briefcase as the tannoy crackled to life and announced that his flight was boarding. It was a good piece. Strong. He would have liked to see more about policy in it, but he was aware now that this campaign on a wider level was as much about personality and pizzazz as it was about solid political planning and argument. The New York Times had a wide reach, into a demographic which they were only targeting as a secondary consideration. If this could convince a few older and supposedly wiser heads to take them seriously, it might just tilt the tracking polls further in their favour.

They were, after all, beginning to tilt. By enough to make Josh, Toby and Sam all share those unspoken and telepathic moments of silent glee, the sort of hope that can't be given voice lest it call to attention the powers beyond comprehension. The sort of energy that Toby still referred to as the wrath from high atop the thing.

The meeting with Ainsley had been interesting. Over a wine and soda spritzer and Caesar salad, she had told a tale of new young republicans who, much like the people volunteering for Charlie and Billy, were sick of being told that their concerns and ideas weren't worth attention due to their age. Bright, sharp minded people in their thirties, sometimes as young as their twenties, who were ready to step up and take back the reins of their government. Ainsley had shared a few ideas with him, tossed a few names around, and taken away an idea for some of her enthusiastic young contacts to tackle safe Republican seats, hoping to gain nominations and pull attention and focus away from the older candidates who had held all that power, and wielded it for their own selfish gains and little else, for decades.

Josh smiled to himself and realised that, in his own small way, he was finally fighting back against the candidates who were funded by the people who had tried so hard to take him down. How things came full circle. He wished Ainsley well. But not too well. By tacit agreement they had not discussed the swing states. But those battlegrounds might become very interesting places if the new young movement did spread out on a national level. Boarding the flight and settling in for the short hop to New York, Josh finally allowed himself to think what would happen if they won...

Chapter Text

Hang Chews was a bar on 44th street frequented by most of the staff from the Really Late Show, a comedy chat show which was tinged with political and sociological issues more often than its producers felt comfortable with, but exactly as often as its audience craved.

Drinks and appetisers were just $3 each until 9pm, which made for an affordable dinner for those working late, and it had become the defacto hang out for the presenters and writers associated with the show, and several others filmed in the same building. Josh liked the place as soon as he walked in, having strolled a few blocks from his hotel room. It was dark, the music was loud and retro, ranging from the late 80s to mid 90s, the pool tables were busy and the seating an eclectic mix of stool lined bars, big open tables surrounded by benches and small booths tucked away into corners for those more intimate conversations. It reminded him of the hangout near the Bartlet's farm in Manchester, where they spent so much time during their preparation for the second Presidential campaign.

He had been warned that the karaoke would kick in by 11pm. He secretly hoped, for old times sake, that they had The Jackal on their list of options.

"Josh!"

He turned from ordering his beer to see a tall elegant woman waving at him from across the bar, stood near one of the booths. He threaded his way through the gathering crowd of punters to reach her, deposited the drink and opened his arms wide to the hug that CJ had waiting for him.

"You found us…"

"Hard to miss the place…"

"Let me look at you…"

CJ held him at arm's length, hands on his shoulders. Her face radiated a mixture of joy and concern.

"You're alright." It was a statement. Not a question.

"You thought I wasn't?"

"It crossed my mind. Sam called, a few months back."

Several little comments from their recent phone calls shimmered into perspective in Josh's head.

"I see. Did you think I would need an intervention?"

"I think the one you've already had has worked wonders. You look wonderful. Come on…"

Josh turned to the booth to see Danny standing up. His hair was still long and curled, his beard still impressive, but both were threaded with more grey than when they had last met, and his face seemed more lined and seemed older in all ways. But then, they all were.

"Great to see you Josh."

"And you, Danny, and you."

"So where's your protege?"

"Heading over shortly. He's finishing up a few things at NYU."

"NYU?"

"Yeah, he's a research assistant for a Professor at Columbia, so the New York trip is partly work based for him as well as politics."

"And show business…" Danny raised a glass with a mock bright grin.

"No business like it, I'm told."

"Except for Politics."

"So how's Donna?" CJ pulled over a pitcher and topped up her own glass. "I'm amazed you could make it, given how close things are getting."

"She practically had to crow bar me out of the door, but she's doing good. She's exhausted."

"Get used to that…" CJ interjected, while Danny nodded sagely. "It will be your life for the next couple of years. Are you getting anyone in to help, at least until the campaign's over?"

"Uh, yeah, Donna's got a niece, just out of college, looking for a job. She's going to come stay and be an au pair for us for a while, help out with the baby and make sure she gets some rest."

CJ nodded her approval and Danny grinned ear to ear. "So," he said, "what's getting in the way most at home? Baby stuff or campaign stuff? Are you tripping over cribs or banners?"

"Ugh, God, a sickening mix of both … but Billy's moved into bigger campaign premises now that the Primary's over, so most of that will gone soon."

"Have you come down to earth yet?" CJ was so obviously delighted, even her suppressed enthusiasm was infectious.

"After the win? I don't think any of us have touched the ground," Josh shook his head. "Honestly, I thought this was going to be a test run, I'm… stunned, that we didn't have stronger competition in the primary."

"You undersell yourselves," CJ said sternly. "Billy was strong competition. That was the point. You've seen the numbers?"

"Yeah…"

"You like them?"

"Oh yeah…"

CJ glared at him over the rim of her glass. "You trust them…?"

Josh smiled slowly. "Oh yeah. They're Joey's numbers."

CJ's smile widened and her eyes narrowed in satisfaction. "Excellent."

"So… what's the plan for tonight Danny?"

"The show's just finishing up filming. So Sarah and Justin will be down to see us once that's done and … we'll take it from there."

"But they're keen? This is a real shot, not just a curiosity drink?" Josh was anxious that their precious time wasn't about to be wasted.

"They're busy people Josh. They wouldn't clear a slot if it wasn't serious."

"I'll admit," CJ crunched some nuts from a little dish on the table, "I'm surprised. I mean, a senator race from New York I would have expected to get this much attention, but Maryland?"

"If he wins…" Josh took great care to say 'if', not 'when', "he'll be the youngest senator since 1821. That's a story no matter where he's from."

"And he's come from nowhere, to these eyes," Danny agreed. "No congressional term, no city mayoral victory, he's an outsider to the political elite."

"Which is exactly why people love him," Josh emphasised. "He's got all the right instincts, and none of the breeding. He's not … dynastic. He wasn't born expecting this as a birthright. He stepped up and took it, which was a bold and cocky move, and he's making people believe they can do the same."

"What's his background?" CJ was curious. Her hand twitched, as if wishing she had a pen to make notes.

"His father, Emilio Fernandez, died when he was young, cancer… they didn't get it in time, because he couldn't afford to go to the doctor. That's one of the reasons he's so adamant on healthcare being a human right. His mother, Carrie, remarried when he was seven, to Paul Weston, a small businessman from Bethesda, he ran an autoshop and did a bit of car sales on the side. He adopted Billy shortly afterwards. She worked as a cleaner at first, but then joined the family business, doing admin assistant stuff. They're good people, I met them a few months ago. They're so proud of him it would make your heart split."

"Brothers and sisters?"

"Two younger sisters, one in high school, one at Penn State majoring in Business."

"What about his schooling?"

"Public school in Bethesda, then Western Kentucky University on a partial football scholarship studying a pre law combination programme, then Georgetown Law. They offered a bit of assistance, but he's dragging around a millstone in student loan debt. Hence, y'know, why he's keeping up the job as well as the campaigning."

"So he really gets the concerns facing the young folk?"

"And all this time I was thinking I was tapping into that standing up on that stage in my Rock The Vote t-shirt…" CJ shook her head. "We really messed that bit up, didn't we."

"We thought that everyone thought like us." Josh was candid, not ashamed of looking back at his track record now. "The closest we came was trying to make college tuition tax deductible. What we should have done was make student loan repayments fully tax deductible… That would have got out the youth vote."

"Hot damn, that's a good idea, that's so good it should have been ours"

"It was Billy's," said Josh, proudly. "He came up with that one on his own. Talking of whom … Billy!"

Billy walked in and scanned around, looked visibly relieved when he saw Josh waving at him from across the room.

"Hey there … I thought I'd got the wrong place for a second…"

"Not at all, come on over… Billy, this is Danny Concannon and CJ Cregg…"

Shaking hands, Billy did well not to be too star struck in the face of two people he had longed to meet.

"Hey, wait a minute, don't I know you?" CJ looked at him closely.

"We've met before," said Billy, almost shyly, pleased to be recognised. "I came to the White House on a trip, in 2001…"

"We got hundreds of trips of students, why do I remember you…?"

""I, uh, we were…. Uh… in the mess. There was a crash, some kind of security breach. I was, uh, the precocious brat who quoted Benjamin Franklin to you…"

""They, that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety." I remember. Well damn... " CJ reached her glass over to chink against the one Josh had just filled for Billy from their table pitcher.

"So Billy…" Danny broke in. "Have you ever done an interview in front of an audience before?"

"Town halls… Q and A sessions at public events, a couple of newspaper pieces … but nothing for radio or TV."

"Well, the good news is that you'll know the questions in advance, which makes it easier than the Q and A style events. You won't get blindsided or backed into corner, and there certainly won't be anyone throwing things or heckling you."

"That's good to know, and puts it ahead of several events I've done already…" Billy's smile was disarming, Josh was proud to see CJ and Danny starting to warm to him already.

"What's the downside?" asked Billy.

"The studio audience will be raucous, the host will have to move through the questions fast, you'll get a segment of maybe five to seven minutes and that will be it. No second take, no chance to follow up, and if you stumble, he will have to try and make a joke out of you. Remember, this is comedy, and all words will be fodder, whether you intend them or not. The lights will be damn hot, you won't know which camera to look at and the whole thing will happen with a speed that will make your head spin. But, you know, other than that, it should be fine." Danny gave a sly grin to CJ, who remembered her own days on the morning shows and doing battle with old adversaries like Taylor Reid.

"Any tips? From either of you?"

CJ was thoughtful, her long artistic fingers tapped on the table.

"Don't pre-script your jokes. Just be warm and open, and if the host laughs at something you say, laugh with him. Don't get defensive, or sulky..."

"Hmmm…" Danny finished his drink, and waved to a waitress to indicate the need for a pitcher refill. "And just roll with it. Don't try to force the direction or give a stump speech. You'll get chance to say what you need to."

"I sure hope so."

"Danny!"

A voice rang out across the bar.

"Here they come…" Danny got to his feet and went to meet the two new arrivals.

"Howaya!"

A young, professional suited woman, with porcelain skin and a shiny black bob of hair came towards Danny with a powerful handshake that belied her tiny stature. Her companion took a little longer to cross the bar as he was recognised by everyone he passed and had to slow down to throw out a few smiles, gestures and hand waves to various punters. Scarcely taller than his companion, he was stocky, but athletic in build. Conservatively but sharply dressed in a blue pinstriped suit, his dark hair cropped and his glasses seeming just a little too big for his pale face. His eyes were dark, his smile wide and engaging.

"Folks.." Danny took the lead, "I'd like you to meet Sarah Kennedy, executive producer from The Really Late Show, and Justin Tolbert, who I believe you all know. This is Josh Lyman, my wife CJ Cregg, and Billy Weston…"

Handshakes all round followed.

"So Billy…" Justin shook his hand last and held his gaze for just that second longer. "It seems like you're having quite the year so far!"

"You could say that."

"I do say that. And I think our viewers would love to know what brought you to this point."

Sarah dug out a small notepad and pen, an old fashioned touch that warmed Josh's heart in this world of super slim laptops.

"Well, I hope my story's not over yet, Mr Tolbert."

"We do too Billy … " Sarah motioned for him to take his seat as Justin poured two fresh glasses. "We do too… youngest senator in almost 200 years… my, that would be a headline."

"Kind of you to say, but I hope to be elected for my policies, rather than for my curiosity value."

"So, what would you say your key policies are?"

"To make education and healthcare more accessible and affordable for the people of Maryland."

"And, are those not the case already?"

"For a lot of people, sure, but there are a whole heap of people who don't have access to those services, who have lived and worked in our great state their whole lives. People like my father, who was so scared of doctor's bills that he avoided going to get his pain checked out until the cancer had reached its fourth stage. People like my mother, who got offers to go to John Hopkins and Georgetown based on her transcripts and recommendations, but wasn't able to afford the tuition and didn't meet the requirements for assistance. What could their lives have been, if they hadn't been so scared of student debt, or hospital fees?"

"You seemed to have turned out OK, though… law graduate, research assistant, youngest candidate for senate in two centuries…"

"Perhaps," Billy took another drink and met Josh's eye with a grateful smile that he had prepped him for these questions. "But perhaps we all could have been greater if we hadn't lived our lives with those fears breathing down our necks. My father would still be here, for one, to see his son on the road to a career of public service. I think he would have been proud of that choice."

Sarah scribbled enthusiastically.

Justin nodded approvingly. "You're young to have made this decision though," he commented, almost off hand. "What brought you to such a big step?"

Billy put down his glass and steepled his hands.

"I'm thirty years old. Old enough to have student loans and a credit card. Old enough to be married. Old enough to have kids, if I wanted them already. Old enough to drive, to buy a car, to sell cars for a living if I wanted to. I'm old enough to have a job, pay taxes, start a business, and give someone else a job. I'm old enough to have enlisted and completed at least one tour of duty in an active war zone. I'm old enough to have graduated college, finished my postgraduate studies, even to have completed doctoral studies. I'm old enough to have made good progress down any other life path offered to me by this great country. What makes America think I'm too young to have a say in organising how all of this works?"

Several pairs of eyes stared at him, glasses half way to lips.

Billy began to feel nervous, turned to Josh for reassurance, to find him beaming with pride.

"Did I over reach?"

"Not a bit of it."

"Mr Weston…" Justin leaned forward across the table with a smile. "I'm sure looking forward to having you on the show. Don't you think Sarah?"

Sarah decisively clicked her pen and tucked the notepad away again. "Oh yeah…" she said, fishing out her diary. "Let's start looking at a date for filming…"

Chapter Text

Toby smoothed the hair of his daughter as she snuggled down to sleep after story time and leaned across to check that his son was still peacefully snoozing. Quietly, he closed the bedroom door, leaving the little nightlight on between the twin beds, and went downstairs to his living room.

Moving out of his old apartment and into the modest little house in Bethesda was the best decision he had made in years, not least because it meant he could finally have the kids overnight on weekends. He still kept a pied-a-terre in New York for the times when he was teaching at Columbia, but this unassuming piece of suburbia was becoming the centre of Toby's increasingly contented world.

He bimbled around downstairs, collecting the odd soft toy and retrieving Huck's baseball mitt from behind the sofa, placing them all in the basket provided for their safe keeping. The dishwasher whirred away peacably in the background and the light was fading outside. Drawing the curtains, he saw the car draw up outside his house and smiled to himself. Self consciously he turned to the mirror, smoothed down his hair, brushed imagined crumbs from his shirt and turned as the door knocked softly.

Andie looked exhausted.

"Are they asleep?" she whispered.

"Yeah, just ten minutes ago. Do you want to go up?" Toby took her coat and hung it on the rack.

"No, it's OK, I'll check on them later before I go. Let's not risk them waking up."

"Did you eat?"

"Do cheetos count?"

"I thought as much. Come, have a seat."

Andie toed off her high heeled shoes and sank into the comfortable armchair, feeling wiped out. She couldn't remember the campaign trail ever having been this hard before, not even when the kids were toddlers, or even when she was pregnant.

Toby re-emerged from the kitchen with a tray, bearing a large shallow bowl of chilli and rice, with a pitta bread on one side and a large glass of red wine.

"Oh Toby…" Andie looked pathetically close to tears.

"There was plenty left. Huck's still not convinced by anything with even a pinch of chilli powder, so we did have to resort to, uh, turkey dinosaurs and oven baked fries. Molly loved hers though. I think we're going to have a spice fiend on our hands…"

Andie tucked into the lap tray meal while Toby watched for a few moments. The little moment of domesticity felt dangerously comfortable. He had to remind himself that he and Andie were Not Back Together, with all appropriate capital letters. However … things were … better. Between the two of them. No arguments. No bitterness. No anger. No sadness. There was nothing to be sad about really.

"What are you thinking?"

Toby looked up from his naval gazing to see Andie staring at him, glass of wine in hand.

"Oh … nothing much." He smiled. "Just pleased to see you enjoying the food."

"It's really good… This from the man who used to make famous calls to the pizza place."

"I had to branch out. It's not good when all the delivery bikers know you by first name."

Andie smiled, placing the tray to one side and curling her feet up beneath her.

"What time is the show on?"

"10 o'clock. Want to stay and watch?"

It would be late. A late drive home. But when Andie considered the enormous, cold and dark, empty house that she had to drive back to, suddenly the companionship of this warm little nest was just too tempting.

"Yes, I'd like that."

"Well," Toby got to his feet, and collected the tray, headed back to the kitchen. "This will be almost as good as Sam on crossfire. I'd better get some popcorn ready to go…"

Around the corner in the little kitchen, Toby gave vent to his feelings, clenching his eyes and making a fist in silent victory. It was just a little victory straw. A small one. But to a man who felt he had drowned in this river a long time ago, even the slightest hint of something that could float seemed like the safest raft. She was going to stay and watch TV with him. She had eaten his food. She had enjoyed it. Such tiny tiny pleasures that he had never rated as important in the early and vital years of their marriage. He fished out a packet of microwave popcorn, placed it in readiness for later on, and collected a new glass and bottle of red wine, all the while making himself a little vow that he would never dismiss such things as unimportant again.

Back in the living room, Andie had flicked the TV on to CNN and was leading through her appointments diary.

"So how did today go?" Toby topped up the glass and dealt with pouring his own, settling to his habitual corner of the couch.

"Urgh …" Andie closed her diary in disgust. "It was alright. But I will be glad when the Republican Primary is over. I can deal with battling one shark. But having the whole field still open is like … I don't know… being nibbled all over by piranhas."

"Was the town hall that bad?"

"Just irritating as hell. Some … well dressed, undercooked rookie took me to task for being an unwed mother and started demanding to know how I could dare be out on the road and away from my precious baby children when they needed me most…"

Toby's brows rose.

"That's … old fashioned…"

Andie nodded.

"Yeah … but just as the Democrats are leaning more left, some of the new Republicans are leaning more to the right. With startling results."

"Who is this … creature?"

"Sarah Beth Mayhew."

"Oh God…"

"You know her…"

"I shouldn't. But I do."

Toby had learned more about Twitter in the last three weeks than he had in the last three years. Having just graded his last stack of papers, he had been dismayed by Columbia's policy to update its referencing and attribution guidelines to reflect the rising power of social media, meaning that more and more of his students were able to legitimately reference tweets as evidence in their research. Sarah Beth Mayhew, or SarahBethMayhewREP was a name he had seen cropping up more and more recently during his forays onto Twitter to check sources, often in response to the tweets from Billy's campaign.

"...just wish she'd shut up and go away, but if this goes on I'm going to have to say something."

"I wouldn't."

"Well of course you wouldn't."

"No, I mean… you shouldn't."

"Toby … it's kinda hard to take when someone decides to undermine and dismiss every important decision you've ever made in your life, and imply into the bargain that you're an unfit mother."

"It's disgusting, is what it is..."

Andie looked indignant and frustrated, two emotions Toby had no desire to reacquaint himself with tonight.

"I know it must be hard. The hardest thing is when they throw rocks at you, and the people you love. But you had her to rights. An anaemic rookie. She'll fall under the wheels of the wagon soon enough."

"Humph". Andie was not convinced.

Toby took up the remote and changed channels, realising that it was almost time to start.

"Popcorn?" He said brightly.

"Salted?"

"You bet."

"Go on then…"

The corn exploded softly into the bag as the microwave whirred. By the time it was done and the theme tune was kicking in, everything was looking rosy again, as Andie came over to sit on the couch next to Toby, the popcorn balanced in between them, the bottle of wine within easy reach.

"Welcome welcome, welcome to the Really Late Show everybody, I'm your host, Justin Tolbert, and have we got a great show for you tonight…"

Chapter Text

"Welcome welcome, welcome to the Really Late Show everybody, I'm your host, Justin Tolbert, and have we got a great show for you tonight…"

"DONNA!"

Josh hurried in from the kitchen with fresh, steaming popcorn. He grabbed the remote and settled into the couch, his excitement palpable.

"DONNA… come on, it's starting!"

"I'll be right there…"

"My first guest tonight is an up and coming star in the music world, multi-grammy award winner…"

Josh relaxed, Billy clearly wasn't the first guest, unless Justin had gone completely off script. He put the popcorn down onto the table in a vain attempt not to eat the whole thing before what he thought of as the main feature. The show was great, the audience were responsive and warm and Justin was a fantastic host.

"Josh?"

"Hey Donna, come on, you're gonna miss it…"

"Josh…!"

"I know, he's not on yet, but seriously this is…"

"JOSH!"

An alert flashed beyond Josh's eyes as he finally registered the urgency in Donna's voice and he scrambled from the couch and ran over towards the downstairs bathroom. He hammered on the door.

"Donna!"

"It's open…"

Josh went in to find Donna stood, clutching the sink, panting, he cheeks red and her hair matted to her face with sweat.

"Josh… My water broke…"

"Oh my God…"

"We need to go…"

"Oh God. Oh… God...yes! Right! Come on, here, give me your hand…"

They had rehearsed this. The hospital bag had been packed, next to the front door, and the car had had a full tank of gasoline for over a week. Josh had abstained from drinking anything stronger than a Cappuccino since he got back from New York and his car keys lived permanently in his pocket. They were ready, and at the same time, they were so not ready. He collected the bag as he opened the door and helped Donna out and down the steps as she was battling against the first round of contractions.

The door closed softly behind them, with a click, the popcorn abandoned on the coffee table in the den. The TV still blared out colour and sound.

"Now my next guest is a rising star in the world of politics, having won his Democratic Primary in the state of Maryland, and he's now hoping to become the youngest Senator since 1821, ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to Mr Billy Weston…!"

As the audience on the TV screen went wild, Josh's car purred away down the street toward George Washington University Hospital…

****

Toby and Andie sat riveted as the most important TV segment of Billy's young life played out before their eyes. With the show being pre-recorded, they already had an idea of the content, but Toby was deconstructing everything and analysing it down to the most minute detail.

"So Billy… I can call you Billy, right?"

"Absolutely, everyone else does…"

"Now, am I right in thinking, you've never held elected office before?"

"Not since I was a student. I held positions on student council, at high school and at college and law school."

"What stopped you since then?"

"Honestly Justin? The need to make an honest living."

The grin and slightly helpless spread of the hands nailed the comment. The audience cracked up and Justin laughed too. Billy left the laughter hanging in the air for a few moments, then reeled it back in towards serious.

"But no, honestly, I was busy. I put all my effort into finding a job, making my education pay dividends. I never had the luxury of being able to take unpaid internships, I had to make my own way, and as everyone in my generation knows, that's a hard thing to do when you are responsible for yourself at a young age.."

"That's good…" Toby approved.

"What? What did I miss?" Andie crunched a few more pieces of corn.

"He just took the wind out of the 'you're too young' argument. He's lived an adult life, he knows all about hard work…"

"So, senate? Not congress?"

"Absolutely, the Senate. We have some great Democratic congressmen and congresswomen in Maryland, and all of them love their districts. They know the people, the issues facing their communities, they are already doing a wonderful job. But I worry about the voice our great state has in the Senate. I find it hard to accept some of the direction we're seeing emerging in the Senate and I want my state to have a representative who voices the true will of the people, to make their wishes known and heard."

"And you don't feel that's happening right now?"

"I find it hard to believe that the great people of Maryland would be in favour of legislation that would make it harder for their sick children to find doctors willing to care for them if they're lucky enough to survive and reach adulthood. They are people, living beings, citizens of America, more than the sum of their pre-existing conditions. I also find it hard to believe that they would want to see their public schools fighting tooth and nail to get enough funding to pay for the best teachers. Which is no more than all of our children deserve."

Billy gave that small half turn to the audience with raised eyebrows, inviting their responses, which brought out whoops and cheers.

"Turning questions into statements. Man, this kid's got great rhetoric."

"This kid had a great teacher…" Andie reached for Toby's hand and gave it a squeeze, grinning up into his face. Just for that moment, Toby ceased to envy his brother his trips into outer space. He was floating on earth.

The segment continued with a foray into the perils of Instagram and Twitter, some funny hashtags that Billy and his friends had started, and a whole host of millennial jokes about avocados that Toby didn't really understand, but which sent the audience into gales of laughter and made Billy look entirely relaxed and age appropriate.

"So Billy… you've been going into schools and colleges a lot on your election tour."

"Absolutely."

"Tell us about that?"

"Well, Justin, that's a funny story… it all starts with something that happened to me when I was in high school. I was on a trip to Washington DC to the White House, and I spend some time there at a sort of impromptu Q and A session with the senior staff…"

"Wow…"

"Yeah I know… we weren't exactly on the schedule but they made time for us. And, up until then I had thought that I had to grow up before I could start changing the world. And that day, for the first time, I realised that I could change the world right now. Starting with the ground under my feet."

"How's that?"

"By accepting pluralism. By embracing more than one idea. It made me feel powerful, a sensation I didn't feel too often as a teenager, I can tell you… And it occurred to me at the start of this campaign that while our young people have much to learn, they have so much to teach us too. Who do we turn to when we want our iPhones updated? Right? Am I right?"

The audience laughed aloud, almost sheepish.

"I know, right … we trust them to fix our technology and sort out our online presence and fix the connection every time it breaks. We get them to teach us how to use video calling and Twitter and Instagram and we accept their expertise in those fields… why don't we trust and encourage them to vote? Pluralism is about accepting that our young people have much to teach us, as much as we might have to teach them, and our knowledge is going out of date and becoming obsolete far faster than theirs."

Toby hoped with all his soul that Josh was paying attention to see the fruits of his labours on that fateful day being played out on national television. The applause and whoops from the audience were tinged with frenzy

"And here's the thing Justin, everyone underestimates our young people. But our voting age is 18 years old. We expect our high school seniors to have the maturity to choose their future paths, select their studies, learn to drive, navigate adult relationships, not to mention the internet, and yet we don't think about them as voters. It's the same with our college students, our young forces recruits, our young people who go straight into the workforce after high school. They pay taxes, buy groceries, visit doctors and hospitals as much as anyone else, and there isn't anyone in the world who knows more about the issues facing our school system as the young people who just got done surviving it. They have voices. They have things to say. And we should listen because they will have to live in it longer than any of us. And if they're 18, it's not too early to start having their say in what happens next."

"And you want to be involved in what happens next?"

"Of course I do. Absolutely I do. But more than that, I want THEM to decide what happens next. In Maryland, and across these great United States of America."

Toby's jaw dropped and he stood to his feet, his hands raised in the air, eyebrows rising into his hairline with joy. Andie just rescued the popcorn in time.

And suddenly it was all over. A handshake, a beaming grin, a besotted audience, the theme tune was playing for the break as Billy walked out, looking born to lead.

"Oh my God…"

Toby sank back to the couch, his hands resting on his knees. He looked stunned. Andy turned to face him.

"Am I allowed to say it?"

"No."

"Oh go on..."

"Not unless you want to tempt the wrath from high atop the thing."

"What if I promise to go outside, turn around three times and spit?"

"Promise?"

Andie's voice dropped to a whisper.

"I think he's going to win."

In high glee she leaned closer and kissed Toby. A besotted, excited, bunched up smooch, full on the mouth. After a few moments of stunned silence, he stood up and pulled Andie to her feet.

"What?"

He moved towards the door.

"I have to leave…? Toby…!"

"No, no no, I don't want you to leave..." He turned to take her hand, his face suddenly serious. "Please don't go."

"Then what the…"

"But you do have to go outside, turn around three times…" Toby opened the front door, smiling at her, shooing her out… "And spit!"

Knowing better than to argue and feeling unaccountably superstitious herself, Andie complied, with an indulgent smile and eye roll.

Watching her turn around, Toby whispered softly to himself. "Because I do not want to tempt the wrath from high atop anything tonight…"

Chapter Text

Just beneath the surface of consciousness, Toby was aware that he was warm, comfortable and filled with emotional and physical contentment. The presence of all of these things, combined with the familiar and yet strangely exotic warm weight next to him in his bed, were conspiring to make this an extremely pleasant morning.

A loud, old fashioned bell noise shrieking out of his mobile phone on the bedside table, shattered this moment contentment. He yanked himself free from the heavy blankets, fumbled around with fingers unaccountably like sausages and stabbed at the unfamiliar glassy screen of his iPhone trying to make Josh's call answer. And the only reason he was answering was because he hadn't figured out how to hang it up.

"Whuuuu… wha's goin' on…"

Andie rolled over beside him, her voice thick with sleep.

Toby managed to move the slider.

"Josh…? Josh… is that you?"

Andie reached over for her wristwatch and saw that it was just after 4am.

"I tried to call you for … why didn't you… oh… oh!"

Andie's consciousness finished wrenching her from sleep and she sat up beside Toby to hear what was being said. She could just make out Josh's voice, which sounded exhausted.

"...sleeping now, but everything's fine. They're both fine."

Andie turned to Toby. "The baby?"

Toby nodded, still listening.

"Details!" Andie poked him in the ribs urgently. "Come on Toby, details…"

"Ouch, what are you… get off…"

"Give me that!"

Andie wrestled the phone away from Toby and took charge. A brief and brisk conversation later she had discovered that yes, Donna had had the baby, it was a boy, just over seven pounds in weight, they were both asleep now, Donna's mom was flying in today, yes they had everything they needed, but could they let Billy know?"

Andie in a state of high excitement agreed to let Billy know at once and managed to locate the button for speaker phone while she reached for her own mobile to send an excited text message.

"Josh?" Toby spoke up again.

"Did you see it?"

"Yeah… yeah, we watched it…"

"And?"

"Josh, it was spectacular, it's going to be all over the morning shows. With a great big amiable picture of Billy's lovable face."

"God… I'm so glad… I can't believe I missed it, but I'll catch up with it…"

"Don't worry man, you had more important things to do."

"Hey listen Toby, I'll give you a call later when I… in fact, what time is it?"

"It's… a little after 4am…" said Andie.

"Gaaaad, that early, guys I'm so sorry I woke …."

The line went quiet, but the background noise of hospital pagers and various beeping noises indicated that it hadn't completely cut out.

Toby and Andie looked at each other and realised what Josh had just realised, and also realised that they didn't know how to react to this being 'out' sooner than they'd expected.

"Josh?"

"Um…"

"You still there?"

"I… uh … yeah. I'm sorry I woke you. Both of you."

"Josh," Andie interjected, "You go back down that hallway and take care of that lovely wife of yours and new baby boy. Has he got a name yet?"

"We're, um, working on something. We'll let you know."

"You do that, and tell Donna I'm coming in to see her later, OK?"

"Alright, will do."

"Take care, Josh."

The line cut out, as Toby and Andie collapsed into giggles. Toby tipped backwards into the bed, as Andie flopped across him. He gathered her into a cuddle and kissed the top of her head through his laughter, an unusual sound, even to his own ears.

"Well, I guess that solves the 'how do we tell people?' question…" he said softly.

"I guess so." Andie rolled over, looking down at him, her hair cascading around her shoulders. She looked tired, but so beautiful to Toby's eyes. "You want some coffee? I don't think I can get back to sleep."

"Alright. First breakfast. Without added kids."

"Come on then…"

The fresh scent of coffee perking had always been one of Andie's favourite smells, and whatever else had bugged her over the years about him, Toby always kept the best coffee in. Trailing his spare dressing robe behind her, she bustled about the kitchen, rummaged in a cupboard, found some new bread rolls and dug out the low fat spread. A pot of jam with a gingham patterned lid, perhaps a well meaning gift from someone, sat untouched in the door of the refrigerator. She rescued it, and started buttering and adding jam to the splits.

Toby hummed to himself as he collected mugs, cream and sugar. He positively radiated happiness. She had forgotten what that looked like.

With long practised, subconscious timing, they arrived at the kitchen counter simultaneously, with food and drink. Pulling up a bar stool, Andie tucked her feet up and wrapped her fingers around the coffee mug.

"So…" Toby added sugar to his coffee. "Do you want to go first or shall I?"

"About what."

"About this … rather wonderful situation." He smiled at her.

Andie smiled but tried to ignore the coils of anxiety gathering in the pit of her stomach.

"I think… perhaps...you should go first."

"Alright." Toby munched a piece of bread. "Huh… strawberry. I'd forgotten what flavour that was."

"Mystery purchase?"

"It came from a hamper. I'd forgotten it. But anyway..." He shifted in his seat, suddenly looking shy. He reached over and took her hand.

"This … just as it is … is wonderful. And for, possibly the first time in my life, I have no plan. I have… hopes. Wishes. For instant, I hope that this isn't a one off. I wish for this to continue. But I have no plan. No campaign. And … that doesn't scare me. I thought it would, but it doesn't."

"Truly?"

"Truly. Last night, I was clutching at every little victory. Thrilled that you stayed, that you enjoyed my food, that you wanted my company. But after the show, after you kissed me… I stopped caring about all that. Because you were here. And that's all that mattered."

"This … wasn't what I'd intended."

"Me neither. Honestly, if it had been what I'd intended, I'd have screwed it up. And maybe that's why I feel OK about having no plan."

"Last night, was lovely." Andie bit her lip, endearingly. Dear God, why did she feel so nervous, this wasn't exactly new… "I hadn't intended to stay, but I just felt so comfortable with you, and then after the show, it was that wonderful rush. It was awesome, and… well… everything afterwards was awesome too."

Toby had the grace to look bashful. It had been a long time since anyone had complimented his so thoroughly.

"However…" Andie squeezed Toby's hand. "I… think we should be careful."

"In what way?"

"I know us. We fell in love during an election campaign. We got engaged on the night of the Illinois Primary. We planned our wedding in the middle of campaign strategy meetings. And everything we've done, down to signing our divorce papers, has been scheduled around politics ever since. And now here we are … I'm running for office again, you're helping out a major campaign again, and… it's like we're young again."

The cold light of day, steeped in reality, was seeping through the curtains and Toby could see the sense in everything that Andie was saying.

"I understand. I do. And I agree. This … whole situation is… unreal, right now. Like something out of a drama."

"I don't want anything to do with us to be a drama Toby. I'm done with drama. I'm all drama-ed out."

"And I don't blame you. I've missed the rush of campaigning, but even if Billy did win, I wouldn't go and work for him. I like teaching. I like being able to have those discussions without feeling like the immediate future of the whole country rests on the outcome."

Andie felt reassured. Toby was making sense.

"It suits you."

"I think so. I like that I can be here for the kids. I like that I can be there behind the scenes to make things easier for you."

"In the past, I always felt like I had to make things easier for you."

Toby stroked her hand. "I have everything I want, right now. For the first time ever. Things could not possibly be easier for me."

"Can we just…" Andie frowned, looking for the right words. "Can we get through this campaign, before we make any big decisions? Before we, I don't know, make any plans? Because I want us to make plans. Just not now."

Toby relaxed his shoulders visibly and he exhaled a breath she hadn't even realised he was holding in.

"Have I disappointed you?" Andie was concerned.

"You want to make plans with me. That's …" He stopped and closed his eyes for a moment. "That's all that matters right now. And of course we can wait. I'm not going anywhere."

In that moment, Andie realised that in the last few years, he never had gone anywhere. He'd always been there, in the background. Solid. Reassuring. Flexible with helping with the kids. Reassuring and kind. Offering good advice only when it was asked for, and never making her second guess or question herself any more. Many of these were new qualities, which hadn't been there during their first relationship. They were wonderful additions.

"Andie … we might have gotten divorced, and I hope we've done a pretty good job of being co-parents, or whatever they call it these days. But there's never been anybody else for me. I was OK with just being in the background of your life. Dad to the kids. That was fine with me. But, if there's a promotion up for debate? We can schedule that discussion for whenever you want."

Andie laughed. Toby just kept smiling.

"So… we're agreed that this conversation is just …"

"...to be continued?"

"Yes. Exactly! When this run of things is over and we know where it's all going, and we can take a good look at what our … our 'new normal' is going to be."

"Alright."

From upstairs there came a thump, the sound of two feet hitting the floor after falling out of bed.

Toby looked at his watch. "I don't think we're going to be able to do much more right now anyway, because we're about to be invaded by kids… in about eight minutes, if I'm right"

"I'd better go up and change, quickly… and see if I can sneak out the side way and ring the door bell. Can you distract them?"

Toby picked up a frying pan and spun it in his hand. "Oh… you'd be amazed at what pancakes can do…" he winked and headed back towards the stove. As Andie turned to hurry upstairs, she heard him humming to himself again. It made her heart sing.

Chapter Text

The whole day had passed in a state of surreality for Josh. His entire world had been building towards this moment for the last nine months. The last year, if you counted the time spent actively trying. The last several if you counted the times he had thought about it.

His new son had done nothing more than sleep, wake, fuss, eat, burp with a little help from his mother, make a mess in umpteen diapers, and then sleep again. But he was already as proud as he had no doubt he would be on graduation day.

"Did you manage to call your Mom?" Donna held the baby, stroking his back, snugged against her shoulder.

"Yeah… I got through. She wants to come up. I suggested next week sometime."

"That sounds great."

"Your Mom's flight lands in a few hours."

"She's going to be in full on fuss-mode."

"I somehow don't mind… here, give him to me, you lay back, get some rest…"

Josh took the little strangely heavy bundle and joggled him into his arms.

"Have you settled on the name then?"

"Yeah… I think so … are you OK with it?"

Donna smiled and nodded. "It's perfect."

There was a knock at the door, as Sam's face appeared around the crack, bearing an enormous and predictable bunch of flowers.

"Can I come in?"

"Hey buddy…"

Sam's face almost melted at the sight of his old friend holding his new baby son in his arms.

"Wow…" he said softly, coming over to peer at the new arrival. "Mazel Tov, guys… You did such a good job…"

"Don't get too impressed, I did all the hard work." Donna had lost none of her acerbic wit.

Sam came over to embrace her and give her a brotherly kiss on the forehead, placing the flowers on the bedside table.

"Well, you just rest now, and give him all the tough duties, right?"

"I was planning on it…"

"Sarah sends her love, she's on the red eye back from California. She'll come see you soon."

There was a soft noise at the door, a throat clearance. The room turned to see Toby standing just outside, carrying a small bag and toting a balloon.

"I hope I'm not intruding…"

"Come in…" Donna said softly, delighted to see Toby, not least after being filled in by Josh about the extraordinary circumstances of his early morning phone call. "What on earth do you have there?"

"It's uhhh… a gift… from us. From all of us. Me, and, um, Andie, and the kids. Huck helped pick it out. Molly insisted on the balloon."

Sam, stifling laughter, took the helium balloon, showing a pink teddy bear, and tied it to Donna's hospital bed. "Were they out of blue ones?"

"Molly wanted the pink one. She was adamant it shouldn't matter."

"And no more does it. C'mon. What's in the bag?"

Toby handed it to Donna, who pulled out a little sleep suit, pinstriped with blue cuffs and collar, emblazoned with the New York Yankees logo. Sam and Josh looked to him in friendly exasperation.

"Never too young to start out right." Toby was defiant.

"Come over here and meet my son…"

Toby bent over to see the little face, pink and puckered, long eyelashes laid across his peachy cheeks, his forehead swamped even inside a newborn hat.

"Hello there, young sir… You can call me Uncle Toby, and this here is Uncle Sam. Your aunties will no doubt smother you with cuddles later. And what's your name?"

Toby looked up to Josh, expectantly, as Josh glanced over to Donna, who nodded.

"This…" Josh shifted his weight, holding the baby who slept on peacefully, "Is Leo Noah Lyman."

Sam and Toby had been the speech-writing team to end all others. They had crafted the finest words, into the most high profile speeches, in moments of high celebration and heart broken tragedy, during crises of war and moments of abject fear and devastation. Between them they had chronicled the Bartlet administration's message to America and the world at large, and given a voice to one of the finest Presidents in living memory. They were master wordsmiths. And yet, upon hearing the name of Josh and Donna's newborn son, they were both rendered speechless. Toby's grip on Josh's shoulder, and Sam's silent nod, were among the most eloquent responses that Josh and Donna could have hoped for.

****

Later, after Sam had gone back to the office, and when baby Leo had been carried away to have the next round of tests and a timely fresh diaper, Donna finally assured Josh that all she was going to do was sleep for a while, and there were dozens of nurses around to make sure everything was fine with their little family. Josh needed to eat, probably shave, definitely shower and absolutely change before going to collect her Mom, and then he seriously needed to get some sleep. Toby agreed to ensure that at least step one on this fundamental to-do list was accomplished. He extracted Josh, at Donna's ardent suggestion, and took him away to get some food which did not come from a vending machine.

A few streets away was a diner with a big parking lot, which served all the food that Josh was not normally allowed to eat. Big juicy burgers, fresh and crisp fries, milkshakes so thick you could stand a straw up in them. It was open, but almost empty. The decor was Happy Days style 1950s, with shiny chrome jukeboxes, hub caps from T-Birds and Chevy's on the wall and red leather stools at the milk bar, with similar leatherette booths around the edge of the seating area. The two men collapsed into one and a plump, middle aged African-American waitress with a greying head of hair and frilly cap waddled over to take their order of coffees, big house bubba-burgers and french fries.

"Hey Tobias, how you doing to today?"

"Just fine Mo, just fine."

"How 'dem kids of yours? You bring them in to see me sometime you hear?"

Toby nodded his agreement as Mo pocketed the pad and headed off to place the order for them

"I thought you hated this kinda theme place…" Josh looked around, dazed.

"You learn to love anywhere with food that the kids will eat after a while," Toby was philosophical. "Huck likes the car pictures on the wall. Molly likes the pretty dresses in the pictures, and loves to pick the music. And whatever they order, they actually eat."

"Does Andie know you spoil them?"

Toby smiled wryly. "Probably more than I think she does."

"So … "

"Sooo...?"

"I call at 4am, and…"

"Ah. That."

"So are you…?"

"We're … not *not* back together."

"That's convoluted, even for you."

"Andie wants to finish the campaign, and then for us to figure out a 'new normal'. Have the discussion when we're not caught up in a cloud of patriotic testosterone and adrenaline. Figure out where we're going."

"But you're hopefully going in the same direction together, right?"

"God Josh… I mean … I hope so. I really hope so. I have absolutely nothing to lose in giving her exactly what she's asked for this point."

"That's … gotta feel like a good place to be."

"Oh yeah." The food arrived. Luckily, Mo was not an overly talky waitress, wanting nothing more than to get back behind her bar and enjoy the quiet portion of the day to watch 'Days Of Our Lives' and comedy reruns on the TV stashed in the corner.

A companionable silence fell as they tucked in, both of them starving and in desperate need of caffeine.

"What are you thinking?"

Josh was staring into the middle distance for a few moments, before coming to and swallowing his burger bite at Toby's question.

"Do you think Leo would mind?"

"I think he'd be honoured. You were the closest thing he had to a son."

"I just … I wanna give my Leo the best of everything. Everything I can. Including a name. And I named him after the two best legacies I know."

"You couldn't have chosen better. Driven men, who loved their families, fought fiercely for everything they believed in, worked to the top of their aims. And in time, he will know all about them, too."

Josh's phone rang.

"It's Billy… Hey, 'sup!"

"Was that your car parked outside Big Bubba Burgers?"

Josh checked the name on the napkin. "Uh, yeah… yeah… I'm here…"

"Order me some fries, would you?"

The phone abruptly hung up. Josh laughed to himself.

"What's so funny?"

"We're gonna need some more fries."

Toby turned to wave toward the waitress. "Mo! Can we get some more fries?"

"Coming right up…" Mo heaved herself to her feet and dinged the order bell.

A few seconds later, Billy came tearing through the door.

"Josh!"

He hurried over, as Josh got to his feet, and Billy embraced his mentor.

"I was on my way to the hospital, I just saw your car… I couldn't get here any sooner, today has been crazy."

"You look as tired as I feel…"

Josh took a good look at his young protege. Billy's face was glowing with joy, but there were bags under his eyes.

"Yeah … you're definitely having a day… come here, sit down."

The promised fries appeared at that moment with an unasked for but very welcome refill of coffee all round.

"Hey…" Mo turned her hair and squinted at Billy… "Ain't you that kid I saw last night on the TV? Wantin' to have a say in running this country? On that late show thing…"

"Uh … yeah… that's me, Ma'am. Billy Weston, running for Senate."

Mo slapped the coffee pot down on the table, her face breaking out into an enormous smile, one hand perched on her hip.

"Well, hell, son… I wanna shake your hand…" Her pudgy hand captured his and shook it heartily. "Boy, my Poppa and Momma marched through DC with Dr King in his day, and my Poppa always told me, Maureen, he said, Maureen whatever you do in life, you make sure you vote. Every election, you get yo'sel out to that booth and cast yo' ballot. We fought hard for that, Maureen. But could I get my lazy-ass son to listen to me and get registered? No suh. He come home from school, from community college, from work, and he just can't get his-self sorted out. Momma, he said, there ain't nothin' I can do to change the way this country works. But you know what? He sat and watched you last night on the TV with me, and bless my soul if he ain't gone out today and got registered to vote. Here, he sent me a picture…"

Mo dug out her mobile phone from her pocket and tapped the screen a few times. The screen showed a close up shot of a young African-American man, holding up a piece of paper, pointing to it and grinning.

"Now he can get himself to the booth with me and we'll both be voting for you, suh, just like my Poppa always said we should."

Mo turned to Toby.

"Tobias, are you helping this man get elected?"

"I'm working on it Mo."

"Then you don't worry about yo' burgers and fries today, suh. Tha's on me, fo' getting my son ready to vote. Lawd knows it was gonna take a miracle, but here you all are..."

She sashayed across the diner with a little added spring in her step.

Billy sat down opposite Josh and Toby, glowing with energy and hope behind the tiredness.

"That's been my day. All day. People coming up to me and saying, hey, my kid's gonna vote this time, to vote for you. Or kids coming up and saying, hey, we got registered today, and we're gonna vote this time. We're starting something, Josh."

"No Billy…" Josh smiled. "You're starting something. And lemme tell you kid…. You ain't seen nothing yet."

Chapter Text

SATURDAY 9.45pm

It took exactly twenty minutes to drive from Toby's house in Bethesda to the office. Josh was taken by surprise when Toby burst through the door less than ten minutes after the political shit had hit the fan.

"Toby, how did you…"

"I didn't wait until it was finished. It must be over by now, where is she?"

"She's not here yet…"

"She's not HERE yet?"

"No, she's still at the town hall… "

"What in the name of GOD is she still doing there…?"

"Josh…" A panicked looking intern put a head around the door. "It's the Washington Post, they want a comment…"

"Oh course they do… Give me that … and you…" He turned and pointed at Toby. "You just … just … sit there and don't run your mouth off and ruin the best thing that's happened to you in… Yeah…" Josh took the phone and morphed back into the professional operative. "Hi, this is Josh Lyman… yes … yes… I have a minute to talk…"

Josh walked out of the office into the seething bullpen of frantic teenagers and college students, swinging the door closed behind him.

Toby couldn't settle. He paced up and down the office. He longed to see Andie. Not to harangue her, as Josh was assuming, but to sooth her and comfort her. He'd called her mother on the way over, the kids were asleep, thank goodness, they hadn't been witness to the extraordinary events at the town hall via the live coverage on Channel 8.

The door opened again.

"Yeah … yeah no problem, thanks, bye." Josh hung up the phone and tossed it back to the intern behind him.

"Did you get that? Do you know what's to be said now?"

"Got it boss."

"Good. Go start returning those other calls. Now."

Josh shut the door again.

"Don't give her a hard time Toby."

"I won't…"

"I know it's a mistake, but she's under strain…"

"I know."

"And I just … GOD DAMMNIT"

Josh kicked over the bin in the corner.

"Josh … just a thought … but if you're telling me to calm down, you might want to take your own advice."

Josh was tearing at his hair, his hands woven into the thinning tufts, his elbows aloft, teeth clenched. He looked haggard, with dark circles under his eyes and strain ticking around his cheeks. At Toby's words, all of the aggression deflated out of him like a balloon and he sank into a wheely chair, sinking his head between his knees.

"What happened…?" Toby sat opposite.

"You weren't watching?"

"I was. But how did it come to this?"

"We thought we'd all prepped for this, but… I don't know Toby, Andie's such an old hand at this, everyone thought she could handle herself."

"There is no way we can handle ourselves when someone comes after our kids."

"How do we get through this?"

"One step at a time. And might I suggest that you need to get some sleep … because you look like you've not had any in weeks."

Josh blinked blearily. Behind him, the door opened again, and there stood Andie. He hair tousled, her eyes desperately sad, her face almost grey with strain and streaked with tears.

Toby stood, and without a work walked towards his ex-wife, the woman who was still the centre of his world.

"Come here…" he said softly, gathering her in, as Josh pushed the oft used door closed again. "Come on… it's alright…"

"It's not alright…"

"But you are. That's what matters."

Andie laid her head against Toby's shoulder and cried while Josh sat with his head in his hands and waited for his own candidate to come back to the office, for the inevitable council of war.

**6 HOURS EARLIER**

"Mommy, do you have to go out tonight?"

"I'm sorry sweetie, I really do, Mommy has to go to a big event and give a speech."

Huck shrugged eloquently. There were some things that even Mommy couldn't get out of, it seemed.

"When will you be back?" Molly came over for one last cuddle.

"Oh, you'll be asleep sweetheart… I'll see you for breakfast in the morning, though."

"Will Daddy be here for breakfast?"

Andie studiously didn't look at her Mother, who was in negotiations with Huck about which DVD to watch before bed time. She prayed that little comment hadn't been overheard.

"Daddy will be coming to see us on Monday for tea, after you get home from school."

"OK."

Molly was happy. All the people she loved would be under one roof together soon. And Daddy made the best food for dinner.

A few moments later and the twins were tucked up on the sofa with their blanket, DVD playing, the adventures of Hercules being proclaimed by the muses as Andie gathered her bag and went out into the hallway to get her coat. Her mother followed her, brushing imaginary lint from her shoulders.

"So Andie… is Daddy often here for breakfast?"

"So you heard that?"

"Hmmm … you'll find as you get older you never lose the radar hearing…"

"Just … don't ask me about it now. OK?"

"Right before a town hall? I wouldn't dare. But put this conversation in your diary sweet cheeks. Because it is coming to a theatre near you soon."

Andie did her best to escape after a swift embrace and a promise to talk soon, before escaping out the door. Her campaign manager, Dom, was waiting for her.

"Bad news I'm afraid…"

"How so?"

He passed her a piece of paper. "The questions have been pre-vetted. You might want to see who's on the list."

Andie scanned through and the name jumped out instantly. Sarah Beth Mayhew. She groaned and tipped her head back.

"I thought we were done with her."

"She's a citizen. Actually lives in this zip code. They couldn't turn her away. And her number came up."

"What's she asking about?"

"Parental Leave."

"Of course she is."

"Just … keep a cool head, ok Andie?"

Andie just looked out of the window as the car rolled by.

Sarah Beth Mayhew had been an irritant as an opponent. Outspoken, savvy with social media, wildly right wing even to the discomfort of some of the established Republicans, she had been defeated in the Republican primary as a congressional candidate, but was continuing to make herself a thorn in everyone's side as a commentator. With a large Twitter following and a slick website, she was racking up a considerable number of op ed pieces in the Maryland press. No longer bound by the conventions governing good behaviour for candidates, she could be as rude and outspoken as she liked.

Andie had been schooled, to the point of frustration, by her campaign manager, the D triple C, Josh and even Toby not to respond to Sarah Beth. Not to give her an argument, to legitimise her, to sanction her as a voice. But as Sarah Beth's attacks had become more and more personal, it was getting harder and harder not to respond, and now at a town hall, flanked by the Republican candidate for her seat in Congress, she would have to respond. In public. On live local TV.

"I'll try."

Backstage at the event, Josh was waiting.

"You didn't have to come out for this, it's small fry Josh."

"Billy asked me to. He was concerned."

"About what?"

"He saw the list."

Andie tutted in frustration, shrugging out of her coat and digging out a comb and mirror to reorder her hair.

"You would think I've never done this before!"

"Much as we want to pretend it's business as usual this twitter crap has made a difference. Bring back blogs I say."

"Cut off the internet I say…" Andie roughly brushed her bangs. "What was wrong with AP and Reuters? They got the job done without all this social media crap."

"Just … keep a cool head, OK?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that to me?"

Andie rounded on Josh, her hands on her hips, looking every inch a puritan fishwife.

"Gee, I don't know Andie, it's not like we've ever seen you get riled before…"

Andie sighed, rolled her neck and tried deliberately to relax her shoulders. "Ok point taken."

"Look," Josh sought to placate her. "We all worked with Jed Bartlet. Best debater in the business. He could take people apart and reassemble them like origami on his best nights. But the minute someone went after his kids? We fell to bits. Our stress test with him in debate prep was to ask rude questions about Zoe, or Ellie. And he would just … lose it. He was incoherent, downright rude, arrogant… Everything the Republicans wanted from us, he served up in spades once his family came into play. That's what she wants from you."

"And that's what she's going to get if she keeps going…"

"And that's when you'll lose."

Andie turned to face Josh head on, finally registering all of the concern on his face.

"You think I can't handle this."

"I think you've handled it beautifully by saying nothing, and your winning strategy isn't an option now. I'm … concerned that you didn't have more prep time."

"Five minutes everybody!"

Andie hastily reapplied a bit of lipstick and blotted her lips.

"Josh … I lived with Toby for years. I'm the master of winning impossible arguments."

"Yeah but…"

"But what?"

Josh decided the time had come for honesty and laid it out flat.

"But much as he ended up doing so, he never set out to deliberately hurt you. This woman wants to see you crumple. Toby had the grace to be sorry when he did that. She'll crow with glee."

"Candidates to the stage please…"

Andie finally got the message. This woman was out for political blood. Toby's damage had all been friendly fire. Hers would be of the sniper variety.

"I know Josh. Let me go do my job now."

"Good luck."

Andie was ushered away toward the stage.

Josh turned and left to go find his seat.

****

The debate was lively, cutting but not vicious. Andie's opponent was a new man on the Republican scene. Moderate, fifteen years younger than her, groomed but over polished, a slick public speaker but not so experienced as Andie in relating to the audience. An hour had passed and the name Andie dreaded had not been called. She knew it was coming though. The lime green suit in the audience was hard to ignore.

Eventually it came, as the apparition in green rose to her feet and the saccharine sweet voice filled the air.

"Hiiii … I have a question about your policy on paid family leave, Ms Wyatt. You're calling for the state to legislate for sixty days of leave to be given to mothers after the birth of their children. Why do you want to enforce this unpaid leave for mothers, who desperately need their salaries, surely, when they've just had a new addition to their families, when you yourself didn't take any maternity leave at all, after given birth to twins as a single mother?"

"I don't want to enforce anything for anyone, but I want all mothers to have the option of taking this leave while retaining the right to return to their jobs. Some of them will need the time off, to recover from giving birth, to ensure the health of their children in those first crucial weeks of life."

"But … you didn't need that, Ms Wyatt. You returned to work straight away. Did you not need to ensure the health of your twins, who were born prematurely, weren't they? If you were able to put your job first and your children second, won't other mothers be able to make the same judgement call for themselves without the need for state mandated protection?"

The lights were suddenly too bright. Every cough was audible, as was every shocked mutter and gasp. Andie blinked, felt winded.

"Ms Wyatt, do you not have an answer?"

"I'm not in the habit of commenting upon my personal choices and my personal life in public."

"But you are in the habit of trying to legislate those choices for others…"

"I'm in the habit, as you put it, of trying to protect mothers and their babies."

"Even when that's something you didn't need for yourself?"

"I would have welcomed the option for myself. It's one of the reasons why this is part of my campaign pledge to…"

"So… you're saying you were in the wrong, to put your service to your constituents above your personal welfare preferences?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying…"

"So what are you saying, Ms Wyatt? What comes first? Family or Duty? Can you really make that choice and ensure that you're able to serve both your family's best interest and the interests of the people of this district?"

"At least I have a family whose interests I can serve, who give my life purpose."

The instant the words came out of her mouth Andie regretted them. The mock sadness and shock that flooded Sarah Beth's appearance, the delicate wobble, the hand on the chair in front of her for support, the trembling lip, could not hide the gleam of triumph in the woman's eyes.

"I hope you're not saying that women like me, women without families, are not fulfilling their true purpose in life..."

"That's not…"

"Or that your constituents and service to this district don't give your life purpose…"

"What I meant was… I mean, what I meant to say..."

"I think…" the confident male voice filled the room effortlessly. "What my esteemed opponent is trying to say is that she thanks the lord for both her family and her chance to serve, and hopes to make the lives of all women in this state more stable and secure. Isn't that right, Ms Wyatt?"

The Republican candidate turned towards her, genial, generous, a knight in shining armour who had ridden rough shod over his erstwhile colleague to her rescue.

Andie's voice sounded weak even to her own ears.

"Yes that's exactly what I meant to say."

"I think we've got time for one more questions…" The moderator jumped in and tried, hopelessly, to move the discussion on…

Sarah Beth Mayhew sat down, aware of all the cameras pointed at her in her high visibility lime green suit, with just the right note of sadness in her lips, and the unmistakable note of triumph in her eyes.

SATURDAY 10.30pm

Mo was on shift to welcome them at Big Bubba Burgers. Since the birth of Donna and Josh's son, the campaign staff had begun to gravitate back to the burger bar for late night meetings as the schedules stretched later and further into the small hours. A secure welcome, in a quiet place, with hot food, was a sound find for any campaign.

"I be thinking I'd see you folks tonight…" Mo sang out, already on her feet, rescuing the coffee pot. "What can I get you to eat Tobias?"

"Just coffee, please Mo…" Toby had his arm around Andie, who had finally stopped crying in the car on the way over. Josh and Billy, along with Andie's campaign manager Dom, were following on behind.

"Hmmmm…" Mo did not look convinced.

"Come on…" Toby gestured Andie into the booth. "Come sit."

"Is this where you bring the kids?"

"Sometimes."

"It's … not what I thought you'd like."

"The kids wouldn't like the bars I used to like. And besides … I've gotten used to it."

Mugs of coffee landed on the table beside them, steaming and black. A small dish of creams and sugars followed.

"I got a treat cooking up for you in a bit… Just sit tight now…"

Silence fell, as Mo resumed her seat behind the counter. A few minutes later, Josh, Billy and Dom came through the door.

"Billy son, you come over here and give Momma Mo a big kiss now…"

"I'll catch you up…" Billy gestured Josh and Dom over to join the others and went to see her. "Mo! How's the coffee smelling…?"

Josh and Dom slid into the booth.

"How bad was it?"

Josh knew better than to lie

"I think you're going to be mentioned in several of tomorrow's papers, and I don't think it's going to be flattering."

"Oh God…"

"It's not so much that you looked 'bad'. I mean, she got you flustered, but that would have thrown most people. Including Dr Bartlet."

"The problem is," Dom leaned across the table, "He looked good in comparison. He stole all your thunder. Your policy was to protect women, but he took that role on by coming to your rescue. Women won't see you as their defender tonight, they'll look to him as a the man who rescued you."

Billy joined them with some more mugs of coffee, as Mo brought up the rear with a big platter of fried and sugared donut rings.

"Best thing in the world for a shock, honey. Get yo'self outside one of those. You'll be feeling better soon."

"Were … were you watching?"

"Uh huh."

"Was … was it bad?"

"Well … I tell you this honey, that piece of blonde white trash come in here and behave like that? She can dance her little green ass back out the door."

Andie laughed a little. A good sign.

"But that man who spoke? I won't lie honey, he sound like he got the goods tonight."

The mood sank again, as everyone tucked into the hot, sweet comfort food.

"So what do we do?"

"Honestly? Absolutely nothing." Don was adamant.

"Nothing?"

Andie looked around to Toby and Josh, and across to Billy. Josh remained silent, waiting to see what Billy's analysis would be.

"If you say anything further," Billy munched a last bit of donut, "You keep the story going. You look like a woman with a grudge. So the only thing to do is try to move on, not comment, and hope it dies out. But you can't campaign on parental leave any more. Not without being asked the same thing again and again for the rest of the campaign. And the best answer you could give, is his answer. Which is out of the question."

"They've stymied me."

"Yeah. I think they must have planned that. It was too smooth. Too well executed."

Josh looked across to Toby, in silent agreement with Dom's analysis.

"So I just … carry on like nothing happened?"

"Yeah."

Andie turned to Toby and said urgently "I don't know if I can do that."

"Andie, if you don't, you will lose. And honestly … even if you can … I'm not sure you can beat him."

"Don't sugar coat it for me, will you."

"You hate it when I do that."

"You're right, I do."

Andie sighed, admitted defeat and reached for a donut. "Suit waistline be damned," she muttered, "I got pasted tonight, I want some carbs and sugar."

Josh and Dom breathed a silent sigh of relief. For all the battering and emotional residue, Andie seemed OK, and more important to Josh, Toby-and-Andie seemed OK. But with a panicked look from Billy, Josh realised that they were going to have to have another campaign meeting in the morning. Because they had all been planning on Andie being able to reclaim her district, and that guaranteed victory was sliding off the table.

Chapter Text

Donna heard the front door close downstairs, but was too tired to go down and greet her husband. She knew he would come up. His first stop every time he returned to the house was the nursery. Donna was currently resting on one of a matching pair of lazy boy recliners which had been relocated upstairs out of storage. The effort of manhandling them upstairs had been worth it in the last few weeks to sit in comfort with their sleeping baby.

"Hey…" Josh's voice was soft with affection and exhaustion as he appeared in the doorway.

"Hey you…" Donna whispered, with a small gesture over towards their sleeping baby.

Josh came in and went to check on Leo. Just a few moments watching him was enough to erase some of the strain from his face. Reluctantly tearing himself away, Josh beckoned to Donna to come out of the room. Donna levered herself out of the chair, switched the baby monitor on and followed him out.

"Is everything alright?"

"Tonight was … urgh… I need to tell you about it, but there's a chance I might get louder than a whisper, and I don't want to wake Leo."

Understanding, Donna took the lead and went downstairs, putting the kettle on to make tea, hunting in the fridge for some snacks.

"How was the meeting…?"

Josh slumped onto a stool at the breakfast bar and face planted into the counter

"Oh… that bad huh…" Donna reopened the fridge, replaced the vegetable nibbles and pulled out the emergency packet of chocolate chip cookies.

"Uh huh…"

"What happened?"

"We're starting to get an idea of the fall out from last week. We all took a hit, all the democrats, after that town hall. We're still on the right side of the line, just. Almost."

"Almost?"

"Andie's slipped. He's got a two point lead."

Donna's face dropped.

"No..."

"Yeah."

"Andie?!"

"Yeah."

"But she's held that seat since…"

"Yeah…"

"How safe are the numbers?"

"They're Joey's numbers."

"Oh God…"

Donna reached for a cookie and dunked it into her tea, before eating it whole, a habit she didn't indulge very often.

"How is she?"

"She didn't stay long. She left. Her campaign manager stayed for a while. But I think they're both just stumped. We're getting down to the wire now."

With just three weeks to go before the election date, things were entering the final phase of hyperactivity. Although it was a pleasant change of pace to the old Bartlet and Santos hands to only be spread across the state instead of multiple time zones.

"How's Billy?"

"He called from Baltimore, he's going to a midnight rally over at John Hopkins. He's … conflicted. Ecstatic to be leading three weeks out, but gutted for Andie."

"Did you give him the talk?"

"A short version. We're meeting for breakfast tomorrow."

Donna nodded to herself.

"Make sure he keeps his head in his own game."

"I will."

"Did you ever think when he came to see you last autumn that we'd be here now?"

Josh smiled, despite himself.

"No … in all honesty, I didn't think we'd get past the primary. This is … pleasantly unexpected."

"How are you feeling?"

"Beyond tired?"

"Deeper down."

Josh sat and drank his tea.

"I feel … cleaner. I think. Like I've laid a load of old ghosts. Hey, you know what, I had a call from Ainsley earlier…"

"Yeah? How's she doing?"

"Feeling smug … she wanted to let me know one of her Bright Young Things managed to unseat Haffley in his Primary."

"Oh my God…"

"I will admit I had a massive whoop down the phone when she told me that."

"Did you hear Royce is out of the running too?"

"Yeah, I head. Toby poured himself an extra large scotch when we heard that one."

"I guess the new generation really are stepping up across the board."

"Yeah… the thing is, that goes for our side too. I'm worried that we'd doomed Andie to a defeat with this strategy."

"You win some, you lose some. She's had a spectacular run. And it might not be over yet."

Josh met Donna's eyes. "I love your optimism, Donna. It's one of the things I've loved longest and best about you. But I've seen the numbers and the breakdowns. I think he's got her…"

Donna came over to put her arm around Josh and for a few moments they just held each other in quiet contemplation about what was happening to their world. Change was gonna come, and it wasn't just the change they had hoped for.

****

The rally was all over by 1.30am and the students were away either to their beds, for the more study conscious, or out onto the town for late night club opening. Billy smiled to himself, thinking about his own student days, and how often the scales had tipped one way or the other for him on that decision front. Bed had won more often than not, just as it was going to win tonight.

His mobile phone rang. Karen's photograph flashed up across the screen.

"Hey you…"

"Hey me…"

A small joke, shared for a long time, still moved him to a smile.

"How did it go, rock star?"

"Honestly babe, if everyone who says they're voting actually votes, this is going to be epic…"

"I still find it amazing that you're having a midnight rally, with student, as a candidate for senate… Don't you just feel a little bit like Jay Z, with that many adoring fans?"

"I'll admit it's a bit of a heady rush. I keep seeing my name on posters and stuff and wondering 'who's that guy running for office? He looks like me…'"

Karen's laugh was light and clear down the phone.

"Did you call Josh?"

"Yeah."

"How was the meeting?"

"...yeah…"

"Oh God, that bad?"

"Yeah."

"Who?"

"Congresswoman Wyatt."

"No!"

"2 Points."

"She's only got a 2 point lead?"

"No, sweetie…"

"Oh you have got to be shitting me… He's leading over her! That can't be right."

"No. It's real. And Josh trusts the numbers."

"Is she alright?"

"She was shaken, from what Josh said. She went home early."

"Speaking of home?"

Billy laughed, beeped his car open.

"I'm on my way. I'll be there in about an hour."

"I'm going to bed. I'll warm your side up for you."

"I love you."

"I love you too. Drive safe."

****

The evening news and late night comedy shows had long since finished, but Tony was reluctant to move. But, as it was almost midnight, he needed to actually go to bed, and that involved waking Andie, who was crashed out asleep with her head resting on a pillow in his lap.

She looked so peaceful, and she had been so shattered and worn out when she came to his door, he hated to bring her back to the reality which had made her feel that way.

But needs must…

"Andie…?" he said softly.

She moved a little, but was trying to remain asleep.

"Andie, Huck's mixing pop rocks and soda again…"

"Wha….?" Andie struggled to sit up, blinking like a sleepy owl. She turned to face Toby, coming to, realising that she'd been had.

"That was mean…"

"Got you to wake up."

"What time is it?"

"Almost midnight. You crashed out. I'd have left you sleeping, but I need to go to bed and you were leaning on my lap."

Andie rubbed her eyes. "You should have woken me, I'd have gone earlier…"

"I didn't want you to go."

Andie looked at him affectionately.

"You don't have to go, you know. The kids are at your Mom's house."

"Would you mind? If I stayed?"

"Not for a micro-second."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I'm the one who said we should leave things until after the election, and then we keep on, you know, not leaving things. I just don't want you to feel I'm stringing you along."

She looked so worried and sad that Toby couldn't resist taking her in his arms.

"It's alright," he whispered into the top of her hair, with a kiss on her brow. "I don't mind being used as a comfort blanket."

Andie gave a solitary, exhausted chuckle.

"Come on," Toby pulled her to her feet. "These are conversations for later. For now, you're tired, and there is a big warm bed upstairs, and someone who will make you coffee in the morning, and hold you while you sleep, if you want. Everything else can wait."

"You're sure you don't mind?"

"I'm realising that I never took very good care of you when I had the chance first time around, and I was a fool. Because taking care of you is really nice."

"Nice? The best writer of our time, using the word nice?"

"Some things are just nice."

Andie traipsed up the stairs to the bedroom. Toby had dug out his old dressing gown, which now hung next to his new one. It swamped her, and was a little worn, but it was comforting, and smelled of his cologne and shower gel. It was soft on her skin. A few of his old college t-shirts, worn super soft with age, were in the drawer next to what was becoming her side of the bed, for her to sleep in, if she wished.

There were mints in a little glass dish on the bedside table, and a bottle of water. Plugged in nearby was a spare phone charger. In the bathroom, there was a set of mini toiletries, purloined from some long distance plane journey, with a travel toothbrush and toothpaste, a mini shower gel, a minuscule bar of soap and a sachet of hand lotion, with a folding comb.

Nothing to make her feel she'd moved in, but enough to make her feel welcome. Comfortable. Considered.

Toby was right, some things were just nice.

The idea that anything felt nice tonight was a miniature miracle. Stood brushing her teeth in the mirror, Andie finally made herself face what she had been ignoring all evening.

There was a strong possibility, a likelihood even, that she was going to lose.

A sob caught in her throat.

"Andie?" Toby knocked gently on the door. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh Toby…" she turned to face him, her tears streaming down her face unchecked. "Oh Toby, I think it's too late, I can't catch him, I'm going to lose…"

Toby held out his arms for her without a word. She buried her face into his shoulder and let him hold her.

"Shhhh… it's alright …. I've got you."

"What am I going to do?"

"Just cry …. Let it out…"

A few minutes later, Andie was all cried out.

"Now…" Toby took her by the shoulders and pulled back a little, peeking up into her face, with a hint of a smile.

"Come wash your face…"

"I'm serious though… what am I going to do?"

"Right now? See out the campaign. It might be just a blip."

"But you don't think that."

"Not really. And … I don't think it's really anything to do with you."

"But that awful town hall…"

"I think it's more than that."

"Like what?"

Andie splashed her face and dried off, looking tired, but calmer.

"Come to bed, and let's talk it out, and then you can sleep a bit…"

A few minutes later, they were ensconced in bed, laid facing each other, the lights turned out, but the street lamp giving enough light to see each other.

"You really don't think this was my fault?"

"No, any much as I want to hate her, I don't think it was Sarah Beth Mayhew's fault either. I think something was already brewing, and it's part of what Billy's campaign, and Charlie's campaign, have made the most of. This … rush of young blood."

"You mean the new blues?"

"Not just the new blues… Ainsley's been seeing similar things among the new Republican candidates. Young people, younger than any of us can remember in political activism for a long time, stepping up, taking hold from the old guard."

"Are you saying I'm old?" Andie teased.

"I'm saying that the kids might be alright, after all." Toby sidestepped the landmine neatly. "Republican youth, and Democrat youth, have served a long apprenticeship. They can't join the conversation until we make room at the table."

"I wasn't done with that table…"

"I think you were."

"What, you think I'm done for?"

"No …. No no … I think you need a bigger table. You've outgrown this one. You campaign style is bigger than this. You need to be playing on a level way above local town halls."

Andie snorted.

"Well … I don't think I'm going to be offered a bigger job under Sullivan's administration. Perhaps I'll have to think outside the box when this is all over."

She snuggled down to sleep, pulling the duvet around her with an enormous yawn.

Toby lay and watched her fall asleep for a little while, smoothing her hair out of her face. A thought started to form in his mind. He didn't dare even whisper it right now, but he couldn't quite send it away.

Sullivan won't be president forever... And someone will have to do the job when he's gone...

Chapter Text

Election Day: 4am

Billy sat in the kitchen of the small apartment he shared with Karen. It was still inky black outside, the sky coated in the possibility of rain. It didn't seem right to have such an important and longed for day start out so ill tempered in terms of weather.

"Hey…"

A soft noise behind him, slippered feet slapping across the linolium, two warm arms around him and a lovely warm shape pressed up against his back.

"Hey you."

"Oooooh, you're frozen…"

Karen withdrew the hug and wrapped her dressing gown around her husband.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you rummaging for a gown."

"Silly bugger." Karen was direct and to the point as always. "You can't go getting sick today. Not of all days."

"Small chance of that."

"How're you feeling?"

Such a small question, with such a huge context, and such a tiny answer.

"I don't know. Everything just feels so...big. I just realised I have no idea what I have to do today."

"Really?"

"Yeah … it's been full pelt for weeks, with speeches, and events, and handshakes, and rallies, and registration drives, and now it's all here, and I don't know what to do."

"Other than vote."

"Well yes, obviously…" Billy turned to take Karen in his arms with a tickle for her impertinence and was rewarded with a giggle. "It would look pretty silly if I lost by one vote without having voted myself."

"My man is not a loser," Karen laid her hands on his chest, looked up into his face with that same steely determination she'd had the morning when he'd proposed. Now, all these months later, here they were, ready to see if his plans to become the youngest senator in almost two centuries was going to come to fruition.

"Joey says the numbers are tight."

"Tight, but not on the wrong side. You got this."

"Damn I hope so."

"You want to come back to bed?"

"I don't think I'll sleep…"

"Who said anything about sleep?" Karen answered with a wicked grin. "I'm wide awake now…"

Back to bed it was. And lovely it was too.

****

A few hours later, the sky was beginning to lighten. Billy and Karen laid in bed, warm, sated, lazy in unaccustomed luxury of not having to scramble off to a meeting on the wrong side of the state.

"I wish we'd had chance for a honeymoon…" Karen was wistful.

"We'll take one before I take office. If I win. Just you and me."

"You promise?"

"Mmmhmmm… you, me, a beach somewhere far FAR south of here, and lots and lots of cocktails. With fruit on little sticks."

"Will you buy me bikinis?"

"Will you wear bikinis?"

"A whole rainbow of them, different colours every day…"

"Awww, screw the election, let's go now…"

They laughed in each other's arms.

"You know, after Santos won, Sam made Josh take a vacation. He'd not had one in over ten years before that."

"Ten years!"

"I know, right? He told me about it, suggested we should take a trip during the transition period."

Karen rolled onto her elbows, looking down at her husband.

"Josh talks a lot of sense, but that's the best thing he's said in weeks. I was worried he was working you too hard."

"Not too hard. Just … hard enough that I would know what I was getting into. Washington life isn't for the weak."

"Well, whatever we are honey, we ain't that…"

The phone rang. Josh's picture, dazed and confused, flashed up on the screen.

"Oh my God, who took that?" Karen was giggling to herself.

"Shhhh…" Billy scooped it up. "Hi Josh."

"Good morning. I'm glad you're awake."

"Have been for a little while."

"We're going down to open up the war room soon. You ready?"

"I'll meet you there."

"Good."

And just like that, he was gone.

Karen collapsed into giggles. "Oh God, I mean really, who took that photo for his phonecalls? He looks like a zombie."

"He was a zombie. I took it. When Leo was just a couple of weeks old. He hadn't slept in five days between the campaign and the newborn sleep cycle."

"Does he know?"

"He still doesn't really believe that phones take photos."

Billy was extricating himself, pulling on jeans and a t-shirt.

"You're going to wear that? Today?"

"Only until the polls open. My suit's been collected from the cleaners, it's in the war room. You weren't going to wear your fancy new dress all day were you?"

"When you put it like that, it makes sense…" Karen started opening cupboards and pulling out clothes. A thick sweater, a pair of jeans. "Go put on some coffee, would you?"

The morning was officially started. Election day was under way.

****

Election Day: 7am

Charlie rolled over upon hearing the door open and turned to see Zoe bringing in two mugs of coffee.

"Oh my word… I always believed you were an angel, but now I know for sure…"

"Stop it…" Zoe was clearly delighted, with that expression of 'please continue to flatter me good sir'.

Charlie budged over and sat up, taking his coffee as Zoe put hers down and clambered back into bed.

"I have never been in bed so late on election day before."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah… or at least … not one I've really cared about."

"And you care about this one?" Charlie teased her.

"You know I do. This is the day you finally get started in the world you were meant to be part of. As a proper mover and shaker, head of your own team, leader of your own district."

"I feel bad not running for my own district."

Zoe turned to face Charlie quickly.

"Once you're in, you can do something about that. Make that all taxation, no representation thing a part of the past. It has to start somewhere."

"I know. I guess. I hope I am going to win."

"Joey's numbers don't lie. This was the biggest lesson I learned during Dad's time in the White House."

"How is your Dad? Did you talk last night?"

"He was asleep. I talked to Mom for a bit."

"Just a bit?"

Zoe's phonecalls to her mother usually took over an hour. Charlie was surprised.

"Well … yeah, you know, there wasn't much to talk about yet."

She looked shifty, uncomfortable all of a sudden. Then a sudden smile illuminated her face.

"Bartlet, what are you up to?"

"It's nothing." She had never looked less convincing.

"Zoe Bartlet-Young, what on earth are you hiding? Because it's pointless to try, I see straight through you."

"Oh alright, alright… Look, I wasn't going to say anything, not today, but I couldn't tell Mom last night, and it's not right that someone else might know before you if she guesse…" Zoe reached over and took Charlie's coffee away from him.

"Wait, what you doing with my coffee… stop, that's my wake up juice…"

"You can have it back in a minute. Just … just give it here… and now it's set down, listen to me."

Zoe finally deposited the mug and turned to take Charlie's hands.

"What is it? What's gotten into you… you bring me coffee, then take it away, and now you're hiding things from your Mom…"

"Charlie listen," her face was bright. "I, uh, you know I wasn't feeling too good last week, and I fainted at work?"

"That's what happens when you work eighteen hour days and forget to eat."

"Yeah but that's now what happened. I called my doctor, and went to get checked out, and that wasn't why I fainted."

"Are you alright, are you sick or something?" Charlie could absolutely understand why Zoe wouldn't tell her mother that. Other mothers descended with chicken soup and home made remedies. Dr Bartlet carried a full diagnostic kit complete with colonoscopy equipment…

"Well … I have this condition … and it's life changing…" Zoe looked up at Charlie who was blissfully clueless. She took a few seconds to savour the look on his face, to remember the moment when she changed their lives forever. "It's only going to affect me physically for about another seven months… but it will affect us both after that in other ways. Forever."

The moment dawned across Charlie's face.

"You mean… you're … we're… we're having a baby?"

"Yes…"

""I'm gonna be a father? You're gonna be a mother… Oh holy mother of God we're going to be parents!"

The hug was enormous, the whoops worthy of the Yankee's Stadium. Charlie was over the moon.

"Is this what you couldn't tell your mom?"

"I wanted you to know first. And I was going to wait until after the election, but I couldn't keep it in any more."

"Can we tell people?"

"Let's wait another month. Then everything will be more certain. I haven't told anyone else yet. There's just you, my doctor and me that know."

"OK, look… I know we're not to tell anyone until after three months, but you gotta tell your mother. Because she will be imagining far worse than me and digging out her medical text book. Do… do you think she'll be pleased? That he'll be pleased?"

"Dad looks on you as a son, Charlie. He'll be delighted for us."

"So come on… let's make that call…"

Zoe scooped up the mobile phone and set it to speaker phone. The young couple waited as a dial tone went on, holding each other tight, longing for the moment when they could change two more worlds and bring the Bartlets into their delicious secret.

****

Election Day: 8am

In Bethesda, another family were waking up ready for election day. Toby had stayed the night at Andie's house, and much of the morning getting the twins ready to go to school. Andie's mother had arrived to collect the kids' bags, ready for them to spend the night with her later, as Toby and Andie would be up until the small hours waiting for the results to come in across the state.

Between the bathroom queues, and clothes, and breakfast, and packing, and doorbells, and school bags and coats, and sudden lack of hairbrushes and shoes, the whole house was in pandemonium. Toby had never in his life felt more domesticated, harangued and happy.

Finally, the twins were swept off to school by Andie's mother, and the door closed behind all three of them, and there were a few moments of blissful silence.

"Wow…"

"Yeah…" Andie was fixing her earrings and searching out her makeup bag from her purse.

"Is it like that every morning?"

"Something like that."

"Wow…"

Toby loaded the last plate and cup into the dishwasher, popped in the tablet and set it swishing away.

"So, how're you feeling?"

"If I give you an honest answer, do you promise not to ask me that for the rest of the day?"

"How about if I occasionally say, do you need anything? Is that an acceptable substitute."

"That's…. That's perfect. Where did you learn that?"

"It's what Leo used to say to President Bartlet, on election day. He hated being asked how he was too."

"Alright. Deal accepted."

"So … I don't want to ask again, but you promised an answer."

"I feel… exhausted. Overwhelmed. Anxious. Worried. A little bit scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of what this world will look like if I am no longer Congresswoman Wyatt after tonight."

"Shall I tell you what will happen?"

"In small, baby steps."

"We'll come back home… in the small hours. And I'll make you something to eat. Which you won't want. But you will eat it, because you'll be starving. And we'll watch the results come in from the West Coast, and maybe call CJ. And when you're tired, you can go to sleep. And when you wake up, it will be tomorrow. And we'll get some breakfast, and maybe take a walk. And think about what you want to eat for lunch. Watch a movie, one of the ones you missed in the last three months. Maybe we'll take the kids out to Big Bubba Burgers for dinner after school, and let them have those big ice cream milkshakes they love so much. We'll play rock and roll on the jukebox, and we'll split a cheesecake. And then we'll come home, and read stories, and put them to bed. And I'll pour you a drink. And it'll be almost over. And if you're ready to talk about what's next, we'll talk. And if not? It will keep."

Andie was almost hypnotised by Toby's gentle and undemanding outline for the day to follow, so much so that she thought maybe losing wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Where… where did you learn to do that? Bring such order out of chaos? You never had that ability before."

"You forget… I lived through chaos. I lived through a dead brother, a divorce, through losing my position at the White House, through the threat of prosecution and jail… I lived through everything that was too big to cope with, and I channelled everything into trying to shepherd Josh through a campaign that he was in full control of, and eventually realised I had no power at all. Over anything. And it was … I don't know. It was the most disturbing and profound experience."

"Andie sat at the breakfast bad, watching Toby potter around the kitchen, tidying things up, wiping down surfaces. The whole conversation had taken on an air of confession.

"You know … I once asked Leo what it was like when he finally admitted he was an alcoholic, when he went to his first meeting. And he said that the first time he said those lines, the ones they say at meetings, about admitting you are powerless over alcohol, that your lives had become unmanageable, it felt like someone finally understood what it was like in his own head. And … I'm not an alcoholic. I like a drink, but I want one good drink, not ten drinks. But I finally got what he meant during those few weeks, before President Bartlet left office. I was powerless, and my life was unmanageable. And the only thing I was really in control of were the little things. What to eat. Where to walk. What movie to watch. Everything else was in someone's hands. And after the threat of prison, I realised I could lose those things too."

Toby shook out the tea towel and smoothed it over the rail in front of the oven to dry in the residual warmth.

"So … the little things became precious." Andie cupped her face in her hands.

"Almost unbearably so."

"So … this domesticity… this … normalcy?"

"It's not an act."

"Not even a little bit?"

"My keys to an ordered life are in all the little things. The … the...book bags, and the pancakes, and the, uh, sports shoes, and school books of the kids. The laundry, and chores, and housework. All my life someone else did that sort of thing for me. I never realised how powerful it was to run your own world at the most basic level."

"Tell that to the generations of women who have worked so hard to escape it."

"Maybe I speak from a place of privilege. I choose to do this. It's not foisted on me against my will. But … I can choose it. And I do choose it. And that's … well, it's just nice. To know that all the cogs of this little world turn because of me. And my actions."

"Well…" Andie got to her feet and stretched out her hand. "How do you feel about coming to exercise another small act of self validation, and voting?"

Toby smiled and took her hand.

"That's never lost its power. Let's go exercise our rights. I'll take my car though, I promised to go see Josh and make sure he's not climbing the walls."

"Alright. I just need to grab something from my upstairs, I'll be right down..."

"Andie?"

"Hmmm?"

"You know … whatever else happens today … you've got my vote."

"That's the only one that matters."

Chapter Text

Election Night: 8.30pm

Shortly after the polls closed, Mo was wiping down the counter over at Big Bubba's. The day had been long, and an unaccustomed busy one. Word had leaked out that the hot tip new Democrat candidate for Senate was spending time there, and on election day the place had been flooded with young people, hoping to catch a glimpse of their candidate. They were disappointed, but that didn't stop them posing for selfies, decorating the menu with 'I voted' stickers, posing for pictures with Mo and the other staff and ordering copious quantities of french fries, burgers and pancakes.

Mo had loved every second of it. From the moment her son texted her a picture of his 'I voted' sticker, to the gathering of high school girls who wanted to know if Billy was as cute as his picture in the papers. Now though, it was almost time for her shift to end, and the TV was burbling away to itself in the corner, showing reruns and soap operas.

The door binged and she looked up automatically and saw him sneak in, his sweater hood pulled up, looking very different to his interviews on the TV all day, in that sharp cut suit with his cute little wife hanging on his arm.

"Well, suh… your fan club are sure gonna be sad that they missed you."

"Don't rat me out Mo," Billy pulled up a stool and tried to look inconspicuous. "I'm hiding. I've not had a minute of peace all day."

"Hoooo boy, you come to the wrong place looking for peace. Word got out, it's been like a rally in here all day today. High school kids, college kids, all wanting to know where you sit and what you order."

"Did you tell them?"

"Most expensive thing on the menu I says…" she twinkled a mischievous grin at him. "Now, come have a coffee and tell me why you're hiding in here, not lording it up in your suit at your victory party."

"Don't say that…"

"Now, I listen to the news too boy, I seen those polls." Mo plunked the mug down in front of him. "What you got to be sour faced about? You gonna make history tonight."

It was true. The results were astounding. Turnout was up and Billy was leading the pack by an incredible margin. The final declaration was surely to be a formality.

"I know Mo, it's not that."

"Then what's it all about? Tell Momma Mo."

"It's my friend, Andie."

"That congress lady I saw on the TV? Came here with you that one time?"

"Yeah."

"She gonna lose?"

"She might."

"How long she been in this game, boy?"

"Oh, a long time Mo. Since I was in high school. She's served several terms."

"You like her?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Billy looked up. Mo was staring straight at him.

"That's an odd questions."

"Don't seem odd to me. I know she's your friend, but I never met her before last week. And I can't rightly tell you her name. But apparently she's running for office and wants our votes, same as you do. Now… that Mr Young… I know him alright. And not from the TV. I know him because he came to my husband's work, and my son's college. He talks about where we live, and he knows our community. But that lady? I ain't seen her. So I ask you again … why do you like her?"

Billy was stumped.

"I Like her … because she's done this job a long time. She got a lot done. She's been on committees, supported bills, helped special interest groups… she was on the codel in Gaza which lead to getting peace on track in the middle east again for a while."

"Mmmm… they sound like big important jobs."

"They were."

"But tell me son… what's she been doing for her local district lately?"

"Ummm…"

"Go ahead, I'll wait…" Mo bustled off, taking a tray of cups back toward the kitchen and loading them into the washer.

Billy was in a panic. He honestly couldn't think of an answer, and for a moment he felt ashamed. He had forgotten that a congressional representative is supposed to do just that. Represent their district, their voters. The people who had asked them to serve on their behalf. And Andie Wyatt, while a superb politician, with excellent name recognition and the backing of the right party, had been so busy in Washington that she hadn't spent much time out and about around her own district in the last few years.

"You can't think of anything can you?"

"No… no, Mo I can't."

""Mmm, hmmm…" Mo came and wiped the counter around where Billy's mug had made a coffee ring. "Thought as much. Now, you be careful here son. You remember the people who got you into office, right? And I don't mean my friend Tobias, or your friend, Mr Lyman. I mean to people who got off their asses and went out to vote for you today. You take care of these folks, you hear? Because we need you to do that."

Billy felt moved to speak up for Andie.

"She did a lot of good for this country, you know."

"I'm sure she did. But maybe she needs a different job now and someone else needs to take care of that district for a while. She can go on doing good. Maybe she just needs to sit somewhere else to do it."

Mo brought over a big cardboard box.

"I made these for you. They ain't much. I was gonna come to the back door and leave them at your party for you. But since you're here, you can take them now."

"Mo, you can come to the party…"

"Nuh, uh. No thank you. My dress ain't fancy enough for those cameras. Besides, I got my son waiting at home, and we're gonna watch the results on TV and cheer for you, and talk about our day and how we voted. Then we're gonna call my husband, and tell him the result too. He's on the night shift, but he'll want to know how it all went."

She gave him a beaming smile.

"We got our own night planned. You should go and have yours."

****

Back at the party, Karen was frantic. Billy wasn't answering his cell, and nobody could find him. Nobody knew where he was. His suit was hanging up in their little private room, and his regular clothes were gone.

Within half an hour though, he was back, having sneaked in the back door, clutching a big box emblazoned with the Big Bubba's logo. Karen stormed up to him in a blue fury.

"Where the hell… how the fu… what the hell is that!"

"Donuts. A present from Mo."

"You went to the DINER?"

"Karen I'm sorry, I just needed a minute to breathe."

Karen's heart went out to him. It was all going to change, very soon. Of course he needed a minute. She took his hand. "Just … take me with you next time, alright? Now come on, let's go put Josh out of his misery."

Down the corridor, the music was blaring, and the drinks were flowing. But Josh was still clutching a water bottle and staring at a sheaf of papers, exit poll results from across the state. Their network of volunteers were reporting in on a regular basis.

"Josh…"

"Billy! Thank God you're back. It's starting to happen, the precincts are reporting in…"

"How are we looking…? Look, will you just come and have a beer or something?"

"Not until it's over. I never drink until it's over, otherwise my brain just goes fuzzy… Look … they're predicting a monumental turn out. Look at these numbers!"

"What about the others?"

"Charlie looks safe. Black turnout is the highest it's ever been in several districts, and youth turnout too. His numbers are looking fantastic."

"And Andie?"

Josh finally stopped and met Billy's eyes.

"It doesn't look good."

"Should I call her?"

"There's nothing you can say. Toby's with her. Let them handle this night their way."

"Billy…!" Sam came charging through the crowd, clutching three beer bottles. "Great to see you, come, have a drink."

Billy turned to face Josh.

"Not until it's all over," he said, adopting a brave attitude. "You get stuck in. But I want to remember all of this night. Exactly."

Josh's look of pride was everything he could have wished for.

****

Over at Charlie's campaign HQ, the party was already underway. Turnout in some of his precincts had skyrocketed, a spectacular victory in it's own right. Youth turnout was climbing for the first time in decades, a pattern being repeated across the state. Charlie thought to himself that even if he didn't win, which looked unlikely, he could feel very proud of getting the youth of his districts active and voting in their droves. That was something to be very pleased about.

"Charlie…!"

Zoe came across the room, her eyes shining, her own bottle of water in hand.

"Come quick … it's starting…"

The crowd simmered down and listened to the local news reporting in, that with 90% of precincts reporting in, they were ready to start making predictions and calling some of the results.

"And with a spectacular victory margin, we are pleased to announce that Charles Young has been elected to Congress as…"

The remainder of the anchor's speech was drowned out in a combined roar of triumph and victory. In the middle of it all, Charlie stood, his arms wrapped around the woman he had loved all his adult life, with tears streaming down his face.

****

Back at Billy's party, Josh had finally been parted from his sheaf of papers, as they were all proclaiming the same encouraging news. Billy and Karen spoke animatedly and at length about their plans for a holiday to somewhere warm and sunny with tropical beaches and equally tropical drinks. Unbeknown to them, Sam had already slipped away quietly and begin making phone calls to airlines and hotels. The young couple deserved a break more in keeping with the hours of work they put in than the salaries they could pull down, and Sam still felt that he owed them a 'proper' wedding present.

"Oh my God… Charlie…" Donna pointed towards the TV and shushed everyone, turning up the volume as someone else muted the speakers.

Charlie was conducting his first interview with a TV crew, as a newly elected member of Congress. A whoop of delight for their colleague spread around the room. Before the music could resume, Sam shot back into the room and changed the channel, turning up the volume again.

"Everyone charge your glasses…" he bellowed, cycling through to the coverage he was looking for.

Josh calmly, quietly, popped the caps off two beer bottles and handed one to Billy. "Remember this moment," he said softly. "Don't ever let it go…"

"...and we are happy to report that the state of Maryland has made history…"

Karen reached for Billy's hand and held it tightly.

"...can confirm that William Weston is the youngest person elected to the Senate since…"

A rush and roaring sensation filled Billy's ears. He felt dizzy, curiously divorced from all the joy going on around him. He was being hugged by Karen, clapped on the back by Sam, and somewhere at the periphery of his awareness champagne corks were popping.

He turned to the man standing next to him, and took a moment to register the pride and sheer relief on Josh's face.

"Thank you," Billy mouthed to him.

Josh shook his head, and nodded once to him. "Thank you," he mouthed back.

As the party went on, the beer began to flow finally, and it wasn't until much later that anyone remembered to check back to the TV coverage to see whether Congresswoman Wyatt had been re-elected or had failed to keep her seat as an incumbent.

****

"Well…"

Jed looked up from his book, sitting up in bed, as Abbey came into the room.

"Has the last result come in?"

"Yes… and it's what people feared."

"She lost." Jed placed the book to one side as his wife came to sit beside him and took his hand. "Aw hell… who called?"

"Zoe. Just wanted to give me one last update."

"She must have called a dozen times tonight."

She's excited… and who can blame her? I mean… it's been a bit of a day."

"A very special Day," Jed smiled to himself. It had been a long time since the birth of his first grandchild, but he couldn't wait for the birth of the next one. "How's Charlie doing?"

"Excited, ecstatic, relieved and terrified. In equal measure."

"About getting elected, or becoming a father?"

"Both." Abbey laughed to herself, unable to believe that her baby was having one of her own. "Couldn't you sleep? You came up hours ago…" A little worry seeped into the edges of Abbey's tone.

"No… No, I tried, but I kept thinking about what was going on, and all the people we know in the thick of it. I haven't known an election like it since Matt won, when we left Washington."

"I think everyone needed a little time off to lick their wounds after that fool took the place off them two years ago." Abbey refused on principle to say Sullivan's name in her bedroom.

"Well … it looks like a few people have gotten up off the bench now. So who knows what will happen next?" Jed smiled to himself hearing the echoes of his old catchphrase in his own words.

"Billy Weston … barely thirty years old and soon to be serving in the Senate. What a time we live in. Whatever next?" Abbey was moving around the room now, removing her makeup, brushing out her hair, settling for the night. "Who gave these children permission to run the country Jed?"

"I don't know honey, but it wasn't me."

"Oh come now… you built a team of the brightest and best young minds of your age. And they're starting to pull all the right strings now." Abbey hung up her robe and came to climb into bed.

"That was all Leo's doing. I would have picked all the wrong people."

"Oh by the way… Donna called. They're going to have a little welcome party for the baby next month when everything settles down. They wanted to know if we could make it?"

"Oh do let's… we can go see Zoe and Charlie too."

The lights were clicked off as the couple settled down into a cuddle.

"Jed… what do you think Andie will do now?"

"Well it's funny you should ask…" Jed rumbled, sleepiness now finally taking hold. "I've been wondering whether she would be a good fit for my old job."

"Which one…?"

"The last one…"

Chapter Text

The key turning in the lock had been a strangely loud sound, but then it was almost 2am by the time Toby and Andie arrived at Toby's house. The party at Andie's campaign headquarters never really gotten going. When the exit polls came in, more and more people made excuses, started to slip away, promised to come back early and then just never re-materialised.

It had been so late when the vote came in. Late enough that Toby wondered whether extra care and checking had been used on the votes.

With a margin of just 3%, Andie had lost her seat to the new Republican candidate.

The coverage was turned off in disgust when the first pundit to be interviewed by the local news was the vile and still green-suited Sarah Beth Mahew.

After the last people finally drowned their sorrows and were tactfully but firmly shown the door, Andie had looked around at the state of her head quarters in despair and Toby had finally taken charge and had put Andie into his car and driven her to his house. The banners, leaflets, streamers, posters and abandoned boater hats and buttons could all be packed up and got rid of at leisure. The location was paid up until the end of the week.

The house was quiet, and dark. Small and safe after the open spaces and bright lights of the half empty party. Immaculately tidy, it radiated serenity.

"Can I get you anything to eat?"

Andie looked non-plussed and Toby realised he had left too many options open to her frazzled brain. He made a few more swift decisions, got out the cereal packets and re-framed his question.

"You have a choice … cocoa puffs or honey balls…"

Andie gave a tiny smile to hear the names of her children's favourite breakfast cereals proposed as a midnight snack.

"Cocoa puffs."

"Excellent. I'll have some too."

They sat at the counter, munching and slurping chocolatey milk from their bowls. There was no need to talk.

"Are you ready to go to sleep?"

"No…" Andie was looking better for her sugary snack. "I think I'd just lie there and run it all around my brain."

"Better to sit up and do that."

"Have you got anything to drink?"

"Didn't you have enough?"

"I carried around one glass of champagne until it went flat. I've barely had anything."

Toby smiled at her. "Well … we can't have that… scotch?"

"Please."

They sat in the lounge, the clock ticking comfortingly in the background, heavy glasses of amber gold in their hands.

"You know what … I haven't felt scared. Not since this morning, when you gave me this outline of what would happen if I lost. I mean .. the ruins of the party were wretched, but this … I've been oddly looking forward to it, ever since the exit polls. Since this morning, if I'm honest."

Toby felt absurdly flattered.

Andie turned to talk to him. "Is that weird? That I was looking forward to a scenario that involved losing?"

"Not necessarily. I think … you knew this was coming, deep down. You've outgrown this. And you weren't looking forward to getting back on the same roller-coaster for another two year. The congressional turnaround is so quick, you barely have time to find your feet and get things done before you're out fundraising again."

"I feel like all I've done is ask people for money for the last … God knows how many years."

"So… Toby poured another small measure of his Lagavulin into both glasses. "In the words of our, ahem, former illustrious leader… what's next?"

"A break… for a little while. I don't think I'm completely done yet, but you're right about Congress not being the right fit any more. Maybe … something in policy? Mentoring? I've really enjoyed helping Billy and Charlie, during this past year or so. This movement has room to grow, and we got a lot of young people elected tonight. I'd like to have seen more women on the rosters…"

"I had a thought… and … it could be a short term thought. Or a medium term thought. Or … I don't know what else to call it, but there's not really a time limit on it. Although there is a time frame."

"And what thought is that…?"

"Well … for the last few weeks, I've kept having this thought in my mind, and I ended it writing it down, and I thought I'd seen whether you liked the sound of it…"

Toby reached into his pocket and pulled out a napkin from Big Bubba Burgers and passed it to Andie. She looked confused until he motioned for her to unfold it. There, in short block capital letters in the centre of the square were three words.

"WYATT FOR AMERICA"

Andie looked stunned. "Toby…"

"You're ready for more. You're an excellent mentor. A brilliant leader. You're passionate… idealistic … with great connections and support. And this would definitely put an influential woman on the roster."

Andie gaped like a fish for a few seconds, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Whatever I thought you were going to say, it wouldn't have been this."

"Had you ever considered it?"

"Well … in those wildest daydream moments, yes, but…"

"Then consider it now."

"I'm … not the best candidate. I'm divorced. A single mother. With two kids, who are young," she reached for Toby's hand. "I know that … whatever shape it takes next, that you're in my life, but if I run for President... " she looked at him in agonising silence.

"You know that I would never be given a security clearance for anything more than directions to the nearest candy store. I know. I get it. I kinda blew that under my own steam."

"You couldn't be one of my advisors, Toby."

"I know."

"So where would this leave us? If I decide to run in two years, and I'm in office for four, or even eight…. Suppose I left it six years until the twins were in high school, and then was in office for 4, or even 8 years… that's up to 14 years of everything between us being in limbo. Did you think about that?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

Toby put down his glass and took both of Andie's hands in his.

"I think you would be amazing for this country. I think this opportunity could be amazing for you. And … those two things come first. I'd still be around, I'm still Huck and Molly's father after all, and … I know that I might not be front and centre, but I'm still here. On the phone. On the vid cam. In the area. I meant what I said, Andie. I'm not going anywhere. You're the only woman I would want in my life, and long may it last yet. And when it's all over, when your work is done, if you want me in the sunset years to help steer our children through adulthood and live a restful and peaceful life together… that's … that's something I would never mind waiting for. If you still wanted me. And if you found someone else… " Toby shrugged and did his best to smile. "He'd be a lucky man."

Suddenly, Andie's vista widened, mentally. She had been so focused on living her life in short term bursts. The next vote, the next election, the next rally, the next campaign, that she realised she had never stopped to consider what she wanted out of her long term life. And these past months, spending time with Toby in this gentle and undemanding setting, had been like a balm to her senses. She knew he wasn't lying.

"You know … when you started saying that you'd had a thought, I thought you were going to ask me to marry you again."

Toby blinked, turned a little pale, as Andie rummaged in her purse suddenly. He looked up to her face, staring uncomprehendingly.

"In fact, I was so sure you were going to ask tonight that I went back upstairs this morning and got this out of my drawer..."

Andie opened a small jewellry box. Inside was a dearly familiar object. Toby remembered going out to buy it, so many years before. The diamond in Andie's engagement ring was just as beautiful as it had been on the day she first allowed him to put it on her hand.

"Andie, why do you have..."

"I was going to say yes. If you asked."

Toby's ears were ringing.

"You're saying you want to…"

"Yes."

"Andie… you know that if you marry me, your chances of winning go down."

"I wasn't aware I was running for anything until about three minutes ago."

Toby pinched the bridge of his nose. Whatever he had expected to happen tonight, this hadn't been on the list.

"Alright, look..." Andie set down the ring in its box. "One thing at a time. Your idea of me running for President."

"I think you'd be perfect for it."

"But I can't have it if we remarry."

"No."

"But why does it have to be one or the other?"

"I don't follow."

"You told me that you'd wait. Right? How long are you willing to wait?"

"Andie... there is no limit. I thought I made that clear."

"So let's do this... Let's do the whole run for President thing. And after, when it's done... When it's over... let's get married again."

"So when do you want to run? In two years?"

"In six. Let's get the kids into high school. And I would need to rebuild my profile a bit after losing this time. Can you bear to wait that long for me?"

Toby felt a rush of blood to the head, while simultaneously feeling all the colour run from his cheeks. He felt dizzy, his ears were ringing, and everything in his blood was tingling.

"Can you? … will you marry me Toby?"

"Yes… God yes… a million times yes…"

He pulled her closer for a kiss which took a very long time.

Afterwards, they sat grinning at each other and Andie reached for the ring and slid it back onto her finger.

"Just for now..." she said softly. "Just for tonight. Then it will have to go back in the box for a while. But so long as it and you aren't going anywhere."

"I made that mistake once. Never again."

Toby glanced at his watch. It was just after 3.30am.

"Do you think Josh will still be up?"

"Probably… the party's probably still going."

Toby reached for his phone and dialled Josh's number, which was answered pretty quickly.

"Josh… yeah it's me… no, don't worry, we're fine. We're really fine. How's Billy … that's great…"

Toby mimed the motion of drinking and a cross eyed expression at Andie, who giggled.

"Listen Josh … I'm calling because, well… it's for two things really." Toby pulled Andie closer into his shoulder, laid her head onto his shoulder. "But they come down to the same phrase and it's just this … I've found my woman. And I'm never letting her go."

~FIN~

Chapter Text

OUTDOOR SHOT: A large white building, spring time, a name plate which reads "Columbia University"

INDOOR SHOT: A group of college students are sitting in a lecture hall, engaged, relaxed, taking notes and smiling. A familiar male voice is talking about separation of powers and the impact that decision has on the workings of government. A mobile phone can be heard ringing. Camera pans to TOBY ZIEGLER standing at the lectern.

TOBY: Whoever's that is, turn it off, you know the rules about cell phones in my class…

A harrassed middle aged woman hurries up to him, carrying a mobile.

WOMAN: Professor, it's your phone … you need to take the call.

TOBY: I'm in the middle of a …

WOMAN: *hushed whisper* It's the President…

Toby takes the phone and leaves the stage without a further word as a shocked murmur spreads through the lecture hall.

FADE TO BLACK

We see footage of an ambulance coming to the front of the White House, emergency paramedics rushing through the building into the office of the White House Chief of Staff, a body is lying collapsed on the floor. The paramedics go to work, and after a while a gurney is wheeled out and loaded into the back of an ambulance, a face mask on the patient, the White House Press Corps explodes into a flash of cameras.

V/O TOBY: This is Toby Ziegler

V/O UNKNOWN FEMALE VOICE: Please hold for the President…

V/O FEMALE VOICE: Toby?

V/O TOBY: I'm here…

Camera cuts to ANDIE WYATT, on the phone in the Oval Office, dry eyed but shocked.

ANDIE: Toby, it's Carrie...

TOBY: Your Chief of Staff Carrie?

ANDIE: She's had a heart attack. I'm going to need a replacement…

Camera cuts to Toby's face on the phone, one hand on his forehead, panic on his face.

Fade to Black.

Camera cuts to a shot of CJ walking into a large white building.

V/O ANDIE: I can't ask CJ…

CJ is sitting in a hospital gown, on the edge of a bed, a worried look on her face.

V/O TOBY: No, obviously not

Cut to a press conference outside a government building, where CHARLIE YOUNG and BILLY WESTON are taking questions from a crowd of reporters, clasping hands and holding them aloft, campaign smiles all over their faces.

V/O ANDIE: Billy and Charlie can't leave their seats, the margin is far too narrow

V/O TOBY: I agree, the last thing you need is to lose the House or Senate.

Cut to SAM SEABORN getting off a plane somewhere cold, an overcoat turned up around his ears, shaking hands with people in fur hats.

V/O TOBY: Where's Sam?

V/O ANDIE: Russia. He should be landing about now…

V/O TOBY: Has he gone to take care of… ?

V/O ANDIE: Yes.

V/O TOBY. I see.

Camera cuts back to Andie still on the phone in the Oval Office, looking scared.

ANDIE: I don't know who else to choose. Nobody that I trust is available to help.

V/O TOBY: You missed someone off your list…

ANDIE: Who?

Cut to the outside of a suburban house, a messy garden filled with children's toys. A BMX bike lies abandoned, a swing hangs from a tree, other summer time toys spread across the grass. Birds tweet, sun shines, the image of suburban bliss.

From inside the house we hear a male voice bellowing at top volume.

JOSH LYMAN: DONNA…?!

Inside we see a montage of family life. Josh looks older, more settled, making breakfast for his family. He hands DONNA a brown paper bag and kisses her as she picks up her car keys and overcoat. She pauses, obviously on her way out, to drop a kiss on the head of a toddler girl, with blonde bunches, sitting in a high chair eating something clutched in her hand, jam smeared around her smile. A young boy, around 8 years old, sits up at the table, tucking into pancakes. Josh rumples his hair as he walks past.

V/O ANDIE: Toby, I don't know if he'll do it…

V/O TOBY: He has to, surely… you need him. We all need him.

V/O CJ: Why do you have to be so selfish…?

V/O JOSH: I'm being selfish…?

V/O CHARLIE: We need you man, it's time to get back in the game…

V/O JOSH: You're all doing great without me, I got this done, you're running the show now…

Josh turns from loading the dishwasher to see on his TV screen news footage of MATT SANTOS, with HELEN SANTOS, attending an event at the United Nations Headquarters, raising his hand and smiling at the cameras.

V/O MATT: It's time to get back up off the mat Josh…

V/O JOSH: I've told you Matt, I'm done. I'm out. I've got nothing left in me to give.

V/O SAM: You'll never be happy without this...

Josh walks over to wipe his daughter's face and scoops her out of the high chair, holding her aloft and smiling into her face, talking to her, obviously delighted.

V/O JOSH: I am happy Sam, I don't need this any more…

Cut to a group conference in the Mural Room of the West Wing. Chinese cartons litter the table, as Andie, Charlie and Billy sit drinking beers a look of resignation on their faces.

ANDIE: I don't know what else we can do.

Close up on Charlie's face as an idea comes to him.

CHARLIE: There's only one more thing I can think of. Let me make a phone call...

Cut to Josh sitting on his couch, glasses on, leafing through some papers, the doorbell rings in the background. As Josh walks to the door, we head another voice over

V/O JED: Hello Josh…

Josh opens the door to see JED BARTLETT sitting in a wheelchair, ABBEY BARTLETT standing behind him. Jed smiles a welcome up at Josh, into the camera.

Fade to black. Camera resumes on Jed in Josh's sitting room.

Jed: Josh… The President of the United States is asking for you to serve. What do you say?

Camera turns to Josh, smiling despite himself, reluctant, but determined.

Josh: I serve at the pleasure of the President.

Shot of male legs in grey suit pants and shiny shoes walking through the halls of the White House.

In the Oval Office, Andie rises from behind the President's Desk and walks forward, smiling, relieved.

Camera turns to see Josh, walking into the office.

Josh: "Good Morning Madam President."

Andie: "Good Morning Mr Lyman."

Josh: "Shall we get started…?"

Andie: "Absolutely … What's Next?"

Fade to Black.

White Text.

COMING SOON.

WEST WING: CHIEF OF STAFF