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She had meant to knock.
Why didn’t she knock?
Maybe a better question was why Josh thought it would be a good idea to lean in so close to Sam knowing full well Sam wouldn’t be able to resist stealing a kiss, especially when it was just the two of them in a closed room.
A closed room in the west wing of the White House.
“Who doesn’t knock when a door is closed?” The incredulous voice of Sam Seaborn carries throughout the empty halls of the quiet offices.
“Sam,” Josh is slumped over on the couch in his office. He runs a tired hand over his face before heaving a sigh. “It’s just Donna.”
Sam is pacing in front of him; his tie is tugged loose, and hair is a bit out of place. John looks up at him with soft eyes, watching as he continues to mutter.
“Donna, Donna, Donna…” Sam stops, looking out at the now open door. He can see a few people lazily moving towards the exit. The day has long been over for many. A slow news day, or as slow as it can be.
“Don’t say her name three times like that,” Josh leans back, smirking. “She might appear again.”
Sam lets out an exasperated groan and turns back to face Josh.
“Sorry,” Josh has the decency to look apologetic when he sees the distress.
“Hey, look, it’s Donna,” Josh gets up, moving to grab Sam’s shoulders. “Remember when we said if we were going to tell anyone, it’d be—“
“Donna.” Sam finishes Josh’s sentence, nodding once.
“Yes?”
Jumping, Josh and Sam each take a step back from the other. They turn to look over at the open door and see Donna Moss standing in the doorway, her arms full with the takeaway she had ordered before, what she was now dubbing, The Incident.
“Jesus, Donna.” Josh runs a hand through his hair. “We should put a bell on you or something.”
“Or something.” She agrees, stepping inside the office and putting the bags on Josh’s desk.
They take the food she hands them with a thanks before Sam decides to stare at his food and not look at either of them. Josh sits behind his desk, sneaking looks at Sam and Donna. Donna sits at the couch, eating her own wrap and letting the silence grow.
It doesn’t manage to grow much before Josh clears his throat.
“So, uh,” he shifts nervously in his chair, “I guess, we should, uh, probably talk about the, uh-“
“The Incident.” Donna offers.
“No, no, no, not ’The Incident’. We don’t have to call it that.” Josh shakes his head. He abandons his bowl, looking between Sam and Donna.
“Actually, ‘The Incident’ seems like a pretty apt name.” Sam clears his throat, finally looking up from his sandwich. “But, yes, we should discuss it.”
He turns to look at Donna, who follows their lead and sets her wrap down.
“We, er, as in, me and Josh— Josh and I, well, we’d really appreciate it if you would never mention the, ah, ‘The Incident’ to anyone. Ever again.” Sam takes off his glasses, setting them on the desk before looking at Donna.
“Of course. No problem. My mouth is shut.” She mimes zipping her mouth.
Josh and Sam seem to relax a bit at this.
“I do have one question.”
Josh groans, leaning back in his chair.
“Ask away.” Sam says, ignoring the other man.
“You don’t have to answer,” She starts, glancing at Josh but directing her question to Sam. “But, how long?”
“Now, that , is a good question.” Sam smiles, standing up and shutting the door.
“I miss you.” It only stings a little bit when Josh doesn’t say it back.
“Hey, congratulations on the partnership.” Josh offers, turning away to walk down the street.
“Hey, Josh!” Sam calls out, waiting for Josh to turn. “Hoynes. He’s not the real thing, is he?”
Sam gives the man a knowing look when Josh starts to try to defend the potential president.
“Josh, what’re you doing?” He looks into Josh’s eyes, searching for the truth.
“I don’t know.” Josh admits, staring back at his once-best friend. “What are you doing?”
Sam is back in his office nearly ten minutes later, thinking about how a man whom he hasn’t seen in years can just show up and make him rethink what he’s doing. Make him question what he’s doing. Make him wonder if he just made up the unspoken conversation they just had.
“Take it easy.”
“Okay.”
He has it on repeat for the rest of the day. Distracted but not enough for anyone to bother asking why.
He gets home that night, Lisa waiting for him. She talks and talks and he responds. She shuts the light off before bed, his last thought before drifting off to sleep is where Josh might be.
“I miss you.” She says on the other end of the phone.
Sam looks away when he catches Josh’s eye from across the room, turning his attention to his fiancé’s voice.
“I’ll try to call tomorrow, but we’ll be on the move nearly all day.” He says, nervously twirling the pen in his hand. He taps it twice on the notepad in front of him. He doesn’t notice that she pauses for a moment.
“Okay, call me when you can.”
They end up saying their usual goodbyes. He hangs up, running a hand across the back of his neck.
They break up a week later.
He doesn’t have much time after that to truly think about his feelings and thoughts and emotions because they’re still in the middle of the campaign. It’s not until nearly mid-August that someone mentions the wedding.
It’s Josh. Josh asks him about the wedding when they’re sitting outside some small town in the Middle of Nowhere, USA.
“We called the wedding off nearly three months ago.” He says, looking down into his half-full cup of gas station coffee. He swirls it around a bit before lifting it to his mouth and downing the rest.
“You’re kidding.” Josh pulls off his shades, staring at the other man. He lets out a long breath through his nose, leaning back. “How did I not know about this?”
“Actually, you’re the second person I’ve told.” Sam crushes the paper cup up in one hand. He doesn’t look at Josh, instead looks up towards the sky.
There’s a silence that follows. A silence Sam doesn’t know how to interpret.
“I’m sorry.” Josh offers. Sam looks over at him, surprised to see Josh’s brown eyes staring straight at him.
Sam wonders if it’s too much to hope that Josh is apologizing for the five years he made himself sparse in Sam’s life.
He thinks it is, so he just nods before standing up and moving to toss the cup into one of the garbage bins. Donna shouts at them from across the way, she stands beside one of the small cars they’ve commandeered for the weekend, waving for them to join her.
By the time they pile in and are half a mile down the road, and only after Donna makes a horrible joke about cornfields and farmers that only Sam laughs at, does Josh realize he hasn’t heard Sam laugh in months.
“You two are sharing a room.” Donna says it quickly, pressing a key into Sam’s palm, before she’s moving on to the next problem on her mental checklist.
They can almost see the finish line. They’re in the last two weeks. Sam doesn’t know where they are half the time. He’s been writing non-stop, editing non-stop, thinking and talking out loud. Usually Toby is nearby.
But, tonight they’re stuck in some ‘podunk town’, in Toby’s words. They were somewhere in Missouri, Sam’s sure. Or, at least, they will be soon. He doesn’t know.
“Wait, who?” He looks at the key but it turns out Donna is long gone when he looks around at the half-filled lobby.
He makes his way to his room, and realizes it’s Josh. Josh is standing outside their room trying to get the keycard to work. He’s cursing and looks like he’s about to tear the door of its hinges when Sam approaches.
“These don’t work.” Is all Josh offers when he sees Sam.
“You’re just impatient.” Sam manages to offer a smile, easily swiping his own card and pushing the door open.
“Wait,” Josh stares from the hall as Sam moves into the room, tossing his bags on a bed. “What’re you doing in my room.”
“Our room.” Sam says, matter-of-factly. He hangs up his dress shirts and glances at Josh who is now at least standing inside the room.
“Our…” Josh trails off. If he didn’t have bags under his eyes the size of half dollars, Sam would feel a bit offended.
“There are two beds, Josh.” Sam refrains from rolling his eyes. The door clicks shut and Josh shuffles over to the empty bed, dumping his own bag on it.
“Yeah.” He replies, not really looking at anything. Or maybe trying to not look at Sam.
Sam shrugs his coat off, hanging it on the back of the desk chair. He clears his throat before making a beeline for the bathroom.
When he comes out five minutes later, Josh is sitting on the bed, his own coat laid next to him.
“You all right?” Sam asks from the bathroom door jamb. He crosses his arms and watches as Josh glances at him before nodding his head. He seems to find himself because a moment later he stands up and starts pulling at his suitcase. Sam continues to watch Josh. He knows it’s getting under Josh’s skin because Josh keeps glancing at him and he’s starting to toss his clothes roughly onto the bed. Just when he turns to ask Sam what his problem is- there’s a knock on the door.
Donna stands in the doorway when Sam pulls it open. She has a notepad and pen out, not even glancing at Sam before walking in.
“Donna! Come in!” He says to her retreating back.
She’s already talking to Josh about polling numbers or something and Sam is suddenly aware of how tired he is.
“I’m going to get some coffee.”
By the time he comes back, he has about three ideas that he needs to write down. He’s juggling three coffees when he knocks on the door. It’s Donna who answers, a pen tucked behind her ear.
“One for you.” Sam hands her one before he moves to where Josh is standing by the TV. He has his arms crossed, staring at the MSNBC channel that’s only mildly fuzzy.
“Any good news?” Sam asks, handing him a cup.
“Nothing good for us. Sounds like Mercleff’s going to be making a concession tonight.” Josh distractedly takes the coffee. “We were hoping he’d hang in for another week.”
It’s nearly two hours later when Donna finally leaves.
“We need to be at the site for the rally before ten A.M.” She calls over her shoulder. “Make sure he’s not late.”
“I will.” They both shout at her before looking at each other.
“We should sleep.”
“Maybe check the news one more time.”
Josh moves to turn the TV back on while Sam goes to change out of his dress shirt. He glances at the clock, grimacing when he realizes they need to be up in five hours.
It’s twenty minutes later, they’re both sitting on their own beds. Josh keeps glancing over at Sam who is writing down something on the hotel notepad.
“Something on your mind?” Sam offers, not looking up. He misses Josh’s impression of a fish.
“I just,” Josh clears his throat, “I’m sorry about you and Lisa.”
Sam nods. He writes down another line. Josh watches him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Josh asks, immediately cringing at how it sounds coming out of his mouth.
“Not really. No.” Sam finally looks up at Josh. He sets the notepad and pen down on the side table between them.
“Okay,” Josh nods, lying back. “Well, if you ever do…”
“I know, Josh.” It comes out softer than he meant it to. He doesn’t shrink away from Josh’s gaze.
They stare at each other. For a moment, it feels like they’re five years younger. He used to feel a tightness deep in his body-- maybe warmth is a better word-- when he used to look at Josh in the dim lights of their room. Sam wonders when that feeling came back. Briefly wonders if it ever left.
“Sam.”
He knows that one night so long ago means nothing to Josh. He knew it then and he knows it now. But it still hurt. It still hurts.
“I know, Josh.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t.”
“ Sam .”
Josh sits up which makes Sam sit up.
“I’m sorry. That was out of line.” Sam offers, taking his glasses off and setting them on top of the notepad. He looks over at Josh who’s running a hand through his hair and down across his face.
“Yeah.” Josh says, looking everywhere except Sam.
“This isn’t really the place we should be talking about it.”
“Yeah.” Josh agrees.
Another silence.
“So, what happened?” Donna is on the edge of her seat. She’s looking up at Sam who has taken to standing and talking with his hands. Josh hasn’t said a word, but instead turned back to his food.
“I ended up sleeping in the bathtub.” Josh shrugs, shaking his head at the memory. “Not one of my finer moments, I’ll admit it.”
“So, when did you start dating? Wait, you guys are dating, right?” Donna’s gaze shifts quickly from one to the other. Josh opens his mouth before shutting it. He checks his phone to make sure he hasn’t accidentally muted Margaret and she’s silently listening on the other line. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. This week.
“Uh-” Josh runs a hand through his hair, leaning back. “Yeah, we are dating. But, we didn’t start dating until, uh, three months later.”
“We’d moved on, then we won the election, and then I met Laurie.” Sam summarizes, “Then Mandy showed up, which sent Josh wild.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘ wild ’--” Josh starts before Sam cuts him off.
“You weren’t exactly calm about it.” Sam says, matter-of-factly, shifting to look at Josh. Josh’s jaw clicks shut, and he concedes with a nod.
“We went on a double date, and,” Sam turns back to Donna. “Mandy ended up leaving with Laurie.”
Donna nearly chokes on the sip of water she was taking. She splutters and coughs before looking between the two of them before saying, “Please tell me more.”
“I didn’t think it was possible to feel like a third-wheel on a double date.” Josh sighs into his drink. He throws back the last of it, Sam nods along beside him. They glance over at the two women they had brought who were animatedly talking about their shared love of a classic book neither Josh nor Sam have heard of.
“At least we got a meal out of this?” Sam tries to find the bright side. Josh’s response is cut off by the shared laughter between the two women. Both men stand when the two women do; Sam brushes off the non-existent crumbs from a long-gone meal while Josh begins to frown.
“Sorry, boys.” Mandy smirks, “I think this is where we call it a night.”
“But, it’s only nine-thirty,” Sam says after a quick glance at his watch.
“Yes,” Laurie smiles, “and there’s a bookstore over on Dupont that closes in a half-hour, so we should really hurry.”
“See you both tomorrow.” Mandy gives a cheeky wave, and discreet wink to Josh, before she whisks the taller brunette away and out the doors, leaving the two men standing dumbfoundedly.
“It’s only nine-thirty.” Sam breaks the silence.
“The first free night in God knows how long and now I have to go home?” Josh slumps back down into his seat. He sighs heavily, turning to look at Sam who is still standing, looking out the large window at the two figures long since gone.
“Sit down, Sam.” Josh says before waving over one of the waiters for another drink.
It’s quiet for a few moments before-
“Did we just-”
“I’m pretty sure.” Josh cuts Sam’s question off before thanking the waiter as they place down a new drink.
The silence fills the air for a few more minutes before another waiter comes to them and asks about dessert.
“We’re good, thanks.” He then asks for the check and soon the two of them are stepping out into the warm D.C. night. They both hesitate for a moment before turning to walk towards the general direction of the White House.
Sam stuffs his hands in his pockets after they brush against Josh’s as they walk. He glances over at the taller man as they walk, thinking about how to start a conversation they should probably have.
“I mean, it’s not even ten yet.” Josh huffs out as they come to a stop at an intersection.
“There’s a bar down by my place we could go to, I mean, if you really don’t want to go home yet.” Sam offers, watching as the cars drive by.
“We don’t have to,” Sam turns to look at Josh when the man doesn’t respond right away. “I know your system can be-”
“Donna!” Sam watches with an amused smile as Josh curses up to a starless sky, his fists raised. “I can hold my liquor, Sam. Don’t believe a word Donna says.”
“Actually, I heard it from Margaret.”
“You do have a delicate system, Josh.” Donna catches the rumpled napkin that is tossed at her with a grin.
“As I was saying,” Josh rolls his eyes, continuing. “We ended up going to the bar. Drank a lot more than I should have- and not because I have a ‘delicate system’-” Josh refuses to even acknowledge the knowing look her and Sam share. “We went back to Sam’s and well, you know, it was a great night.”
Josh’s smirk doesn’t last long.
“We went back to my house where he proceeded to throw up in my Bird of Paradise before saying he loved me and falling asleep in my bed.” Sam smiles before finishing his sandwich. Donna grins.
“The plant was fake.”
“It was real. Six inches to the left and you could have thrown up in the watering can beside it.”
“You said it was fake.”
“I didn’t want you to feel bad.”
“I didn’t feel bad until now.”
“So, I probably shouldn’t tell you it was a housewarming gift from the First Lady.”
“Sam!”