Title: On the Road Again
Author: Cathy Miller (www.cathyswestwing.com
<http://www.cathyswestwing.com/> )
Rating: PG 13 (language)
Timeline: between "Opposition Research" and "A Good Day"
Disclaimer: I own none of them, I make nothing from them
Feedback:…is so nice.
Josh's POV:
I have got to get some coffee. I think I may have blocked out how
exhausting these primary campaign swings are. Of course, the last time I
did this, I was traveling on Air Force One. These days, my traveling
arrangements aren't nearly as grandiose. Today, for instance, I was
chauffeured around town by a teenage volunteer in his VW Bug. When the
bug finally pulls up in front of the Holiday Inn or whatever the hell it
is we're staying in while campaigning in New Hampshire, I get out,
thank the kid for driving, and head in to find some coffee.
I nearly do a double take when I see Donna Moss in line ahead of me at
the counter. I start to reach out my hand to touch her shoulder then
drop it quickly to my side. We haven't spoken in a long time and I
don't know what I'd say to her right now. Just as I'm
contemplating my options, 2 teenyboppers run up behind her shouting her
name.
"Skip the coffee, Donna. Come have a beer with us." The first
one instructs her.
"I need some coffee and some food." She replies giving them an
indulgent look.
"At least bring it into the bar and sit with us." The second one
suggested. Donna turned to face her and I could tell the second she
spotted me. She visibly jolted.
"Will and I have some things to go over for tomorrow's
events." Donna answered, but her eyes didn't leave mine.
"Fine, but we're going to get some beer." The first girl
huffed out and flounced away.
"Hi." She offers me a tentative smile, and for some reason it
makes me mad.
"They better hope the bartender here doesn't card." I
respond. "How much do they pay you to chaperone Bingo Bob's
Babies?" Her eyes go frosty and I feel a small sense of satisfaction
that the barb struck home.
"A hell of a lot more than I made being yours." Ouch!
"I'm surprised to see the Santos campaign staying here. I would
have thought it was a little out of your price range. Isn't there a
camp site nearby you could use?"
"We could…I'm quite the outdoorsman, you know." I reply
and see that innuendo strike home as well.
"Can I help you?" the woman at the counter asks Donna.
"Yes, I'd like…two large coffees; sugar, no cream."
Donna doesn't turn around again and I feel the wall between us just
got a little higher. What's worse is that I'm the one who added
the bricks and gave her the cement.
I should say something else; apologize maybe. At least start a nicer
conversation. I take one step closer to her when I feel a hand hit my
shoulder. I turn to find Will Bailey next to me.
"Josh. I'm surprised to see you here." See, he's trying
to rub it in that he's running the campaign for the Democratic front
runner, while my guy is polling in the single digits, because I turned
Russell down.
"That's just what Donna was saying." I respond casually.
"I don't know what I'd do without Donna." Will shakes
his head ruefully. "She can handle details and manage people like no
one else I've even seen." Another dig at me while complimenting
Donna where she can hear him…nice.
"Well, she's had a lot of experience over the last eight
years." I hit back. "When you've been lucky enough to have
had the opportunity to work at the White House…" Notice I don't
mention who the lucky one was.
"Right. Well after Russell wins, she can look forward to many more
years in the White House…with a more substantive role of
course." Donna paid for her coffees and turned to face us.
"I can't imagine her playing a more substantive role." I say
honestly and make eye contact with her to ensure she gets my meaning.
"This is the woman who single handedly saved social security after
all." I offer a smile; hoping she sees it for the olive branch I
mean it to be, but she doesn't smile back at all.
"Here, Will, I bought you a coffee." She hands it to Will, but
she's looking at me.
"Thanks." He seems puzzled by the undercurrents between us.
That's right you schmuck, you may get to work side by side with her
now, and she may buy you coffee to piss me off, but you don't
understand why do you? You don't understand Donna at all. You
don't get that all the trivia she stores up and spouts out is
because she still feels insecure about not having her degree. You
don't know that movies with explosions in them freak her out ever
since Gaza. You have no idea that I risked Federal prison for her
because she risked it for me.
"We should go over the events for tomorrow. Maybe up in my
room?" she suggests. "It's a lot quieter and much
more…private. We can order up some food and share?" Now she
won't look at me at all. Only Will. If she asked me what one
statement would hurt more than any other, it would have been that one
right there. I look at the floor so she can't see the hurt in my
eyes. My heart is pounding so hard I think the coffee express worker
must be able to hear it.
"Can I help you sir?" she asks me.
"Uh…no. No thanks. I'm just gonna..thanks anyway." I
back away from the counter and head toward the elevator being very
careful not to look at Donna or Will. Will may not understand the nuance
here, but he certainly knows there's something else being said
between Donna and me.
Thankfully for me, the elevator opens the moment I press the button and
I can make my escape quickly and alone. God, I've waited and waited
for a chance to talk to her, then I finally get it and what do I do?
Make some asshole comment about her job. That hasn't been a
sensitive subject between us or anything, right? I am so stupid! There
she stands, not five feet away from me looking all beautiful and even
smiling at me, which in and of itself is a miracle, and I blow it with
her…again.
Donna's POV:
The maddening son of a…I tried. I really did. I smiled, I took the
first step, and what does he do? Belittle my job. So, I let him have it;
him and his job with a single digit upstart Texan. That was fair. And
buying Will coffee? Okay, that may have been a little over the top, but
he hurt me…again…on purpose…about work. A little revenge was
in order.
Then he made the outdoorsmen comment, knowing it would take me back to
after Rosslyn and make me feel all mushy and weak inside. He did it
intentionally just to get an emotional response from me! He's really
not an outdoorsman, you know. That's why I had to ratchet it up a
bit. I had too! I really do not want to eat with Will tonight. We get
stuck together a lot simply because we're the only 2 staff over 30
here. Yet, here I am sitting at the cramped table in my hotel room,
sharing dinner with him. Not sharing like Josh and I always shared, but
still.
"…and I think we should hold off on that for now. What do you
think?" Will asks me. I look at him blankly and he tries again.
"Donna, have you heard a word I said?"
"Some of them." I admit and stuff another French fry in my
mouth.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Will asks.
"Talk about what?" I try for ignorance.
"Whatever just happened with you and Josh. I don't pretend to
understand any of it-"
"Nobody understands any of it." I mutter. "Don't worry
about it."
"I normally wouldn't except for the fact that your little
performance back there painted a pretty big bullseye on my back."
"Don't be ridiculous. Josh doesn't care about you… Okay,
that didn't come out sounding right. I meant Josh's ego
doesn't consider…This isn't about you. It's about him
punishing me for my disloyalty."
"Disloyalty?"
"That's how he sees it. I've gone over to the enemy."
"Russell is a Democrat! He helped pick Russell for the VP spot."
This made me laugh.
"He did NOT help pick Russell. That was the Republican leadership
flexing their muscles after Zoe. The President wanted Berryhill and it
killed Josh that he couldn't make that happen." I explained to
him.
"Still, he's going to screw himself over with the party going up
against Russell. Once Russell has the nomination, it will be too late
for Josh to switch allegiance and work on the national campaign."
"I don't think you have to worry about that." I tell him
drolly. "Josh Lyman would never come crawling back to the Russell
campaign for a job."
"Hmmm. Can I ask you something?" Will ventured.
"I guess."
"Why are you here with me instead of out there with him?" I look
up at him trying to discern his meaning. "I mean on this campaign
rather than Santos'. You must have known what his plans were. Why
aren't you, his trusty sidekick, working with him?"
"You mean FOR him." I corrected. "Josh doesn't work well
WITH others. And you just answered your own question. Being Josh
Lyman's trusty sidekick is not all that I aspire to be." It came
out a little hotter than I had intended, but Will got the point.
"I didn't mean to get you all upset. I just figured after
working so long together, it would be natural for you to follow him to
Santos."
"I didn't know anything about Santos. Apparently he came up with
that brainstorm after I left." I admit quietly.
"And you're sure I don't have to hire someone to watch my
back for flying knives or anything?"
"Positive. If it isn't related to him, Josh could care less
where I am and what I'm doing." It hurts to say the words out
loud to Will and I look back at the pile of French fries that are really
too much for one person.
"If you say so." Will doesn't sound entirely convinced.
"Get some sleep. We'll meet downstairs at 7, okay?"
"Goodnight." He opens the door and who should be walking down
the hall but Josh Lyman himself. He looks startled at first, but then
quickly recovers himself and gives us a tight smile as he continues down
the hall with some woman from the Santos camp. They are both dressed
casually and I wonder where they are going. None of my business of
course, but his hand is on her back as it used to rest on mine during
many walks through numerous hallways. I'm surprised at the intensity
of feelings that sight arouses in me.
Then the door closes and shuts him and the Santos woman from view, but
the picture stays in my head for the rest of the night.
*************************************************************************************
Josh’s POV:
“I don’t care.” I repeat. Is this woman deaf?
“Solids or stripes is not a complicated political question.” Ronna insists as she hands me a
pool cue.
“Fine…solids.” I choose and allow her to break. “Why are we doing this again?”
“It builds team morale and helps relax the mind and body.” Santos explains. “You were
brooding.”
“I’ve already explained that’s my natural personality.”
“I think I could believe that, except that it seems to be augmented anytime we cross paths with
the Russell crew.” Matt noted.
“A particular member of the Russell crew.” Ned added.
“Will Bailey is a putz.” I maintain.
“I don’t think that’s who he meant.” Santos laughed.
“I don’t know who else he could have meant.” I take my turn, but it doesn’t go well for me.
“Come on, Josh. You can tell us. What’s the story with you and the blond?” Ronna tries to
goad me.
“We worked together at the White House.” I figure giving them an inch will save me from
walking the mile.
“She was his personal assistant at the White House.” Santos corrects me. “For low long,
Josh? Seven, eight years?”
“Eight.” I respond tightly and down another mouthful of beer.
“That’s a long time.” Ronna notes. “Were you…close?”
“Of course. We worked together for eight years.” I swallow the rest of my beer and signal for
another.
“I meant-“ Ronna started to expound.
“I know what you meant, and that’s not only personal, it’s insulting.” I snap.
“Hold on.” Santos intervenes. “She was just teasing, Josh. She didn’t mean anything by it. The
three of us,” he motions to Ronna, Ned, and himself. “have been through a few campaigns
together and we’re used to giving each other a hard time, that’s all.”
I nod and Ronna quietly says, “Sorry.”
“We just didn’t end on very good terms and it’s awkward running into her here all the time.” I
admit.
“Well, we’re a team now. We can run interference for you.” Ronna decides and her
enthusiasm and naiveté, reminding me of someone else who had been new to national
politics, make me smirk.
“Yeah, okay.” I answer her as I pick up the cue for my turn again. Again, it doesn’t go well.
“Good thing you’re an ace in politics, Joshua. You’d make a lousy professional pool player.”
Santos grins.
“I think you’ll find I pretty much suck at anything that doesn’t have to do with politics, sir.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Matt?” The Congressman asks.
I shake my head and realize this is going to be a long, uphill battle.
***************************************************************************************************
Donna’s POV:
There’s only the one restaurant in the hotel, so I had already braced myself to see him when
Will and I walk into the restaurant for breakfast. He looks tired and pale. The Santos woman is
with him again as well as another man, and the candidate himself. The woman gives me an
appraising look and I wonder what Josh has said to her about me to cause her to look at me
like that.
Will and I sit down and are soon surrounded by ‘Bingo Bob’s Babies’ as Josh calls them. Will is
giving them their marching orders for the day and I am trying to stay focused on what he’s
saying but my eyes keep drifting to Josh and I find myself trying to see what he has on his
plate. He can’t be eating well. ‘Stop it, Donna. It’s not your concern what the man eats
anymore’ I tell myself.
I see them get up to leave and the woman whispers something to Josh before she moves to
walk between him and our table; Josh is rolling his eyes. What is that all about?
By dinner I am ready to drop. I think we’ve gone to every home in the city. Josh always told me
New Hampshire politics is retail, but surely we’ve taken it a step too far.
“Did you hear about the dust up between Santos and Westin?” Will asks me.
“Dust up? I thought they were just doing a photo op together?” Will had complained long and
loud about Josh using his relationship with the eldest Bartlet daughter to make political hay for
Santos.
“Westin blind sided Santos with some old quote Santos gave about the New Hampshire voters
not being representative of the diversity in this country; right in front of the media!” Will is way
too excited about this for my taste. “The whole orchestrated meeting didn’t quite turn out the
way Josh planned, I’m guessing.”
“No, it doesn’t sound like it.” I agree, but what I don’t say is that the ‘dust up’ will generate a
hell of a lot of press and Santos will come off as being his own man. The quote may hurt him
in New Hampshire, but outside New Hampshire, it will be a plus. No one outside this state
would believe the population here is diverse.
I was seriously concerned about Josh’s state of mind, choosing to support Santos, when I
heard some of his policy ideas. Now, watching things close up, I’m beginning to see what Josh
saw in him. Yes, he seems to be a bit of a loose canon, but he also has a passion, a fire that
reminds me of President Bartlet when he would get going about something important to him. I
still don’t think they have a serious shot at the nomination, they can’t even get into the debate
at this point, but I do see what Josh might have seen when he flew to Texas to recruit Santos.
“I’ve been thinking about the debate.” I begin. “We should make a push to get more
candidates on stage with Hoynes and Russell.”
“Why?” He asks me. This is what I DO like about working with Will. He always wants to get my
opinion and listens to me when I give it. If I sometimes wish he would argue with me about it a
little, then that’s my problem. This is how healthy colleagues verbally interact with one another.
“We don’t want a direct comparison with Hoynes. Whatever his personal problems may be,
John Hoynes comes off as a confident statesman. The more 2nd tier candidates we have on
that stage, the better the Vice-President looks.” I summarize.
“Sadly, I think you’re right, but how do we argue for all the candidates being included in the
debate without looking like we’re ducking Hoynes?”
“All the candidates that were excluded are already making a lot of noise. If the Vice President
agrees with them, as a matter of principle, it won’t cost us a thing.”
“So we get together with the other candidates on this.” Will ponders this for a minute. “Let’s
bring it directly to the paper that’s sponsoring the debate. It would be better coming directly
from them.”
“Perfect.” I nod and get on the phone to make it happen.
****************************************************************************************
Josh’s POV:
What a day! We start with a Donnatella sighting at breakfast, during which Ronna insists she
is my wingman and goes about ‘protecting’ me from any contact with her. Then Doug, the
political idiot, makes trouble for us at what was supposed to be a benign photo op. The
Congressman, who is still insisting that I call him Matt, handled it well enough, but God, I can’t
help wonder why a beautiful, intelligent woman like Liz Bartlet ever married him. The only good
thing to come out of it is that we ended up generating lots of media coverage. That can only
be good for us since most voters have never heard of my guy before.
Then, we end up in a meeting with the newspaper editor who is sponsoring the debate. This
wouldn’t be noteworthy except for the fact that we’re in the meeting with Will Bailey and Bob
Russell. He must be seriously worried about a direct comparison to Hoynes to be here
pretending he cares about ‘fairness’ in the debate.
Anyway, we almost have the thing clinched with the paper to get everyone included in the
debate when ‘Matt’ does the very thing I ask him not to…he speaks. He goes on and on about
the debate format until Bingo Bob nearly sprints from the room.
So this is how I end up watching Donna fight with a giant chicken on national television tonight.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, so I had a couple volunteers dress up as
chickens to follow Hoynes and Russell around, and ask why they’re too chicken to debate the
full field. Donna yanks ‘chicken Bob’ away from her candidate by the wing and gives him both
barrels. The only problem is she did it in front of TV and print media. Now they’re re-running
the footage at the top of every newscast. It’s hilarious! Not that I think Donna will think so; but
it is.
She goes on a rant about running a serious campaign and how we shouldn’t be stooping to
these sophomoric tricks to get media attention. She looks so beautiful with her long hair
whipping around her and her cheeks flushed with anger. Her passion comes across very well.
The thing is, I can’t help but think that she wasn’t really yelling at chicken Bob. It seemed like
her impassioned speech was aimed at me.
I know she doesn’t understand why I didn’t get on the Russell bandwagon if I was going to
work on a Presidential campaign. I know she doesn’t see what I see when I look at Matt
Santos; hardly anyone does. It’s just that Donna always understood me and why I did things
and the fact that she doesn’t anymore hurts.
When I spot her the next morning at breakfast, she studiously avoid looking in my direction. I
decide to take the bull by the horns and try to talk to her when she returns to the buffet line.
“Good morning.” I start genially.
“I’m not speaking to you, Joshua.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t speak to people who send grown men dressed as chickens to disrupt serious
candidates for President.”
I digest this for a second. “You looked good on TV.” I offer and see her jaw clench.
“Someone once told me that nothing should be taken more seriously than a Presidential
campaign.” She throws my own words at me.
“Someone also told you to never engage a grown man dressed as a chicken.”
“You NEVER said any such-“
“I should have. We must have missed that lesson.”
“Given that you had 8 years to impart such wisdom, it’s astonishing that you missed it.
Regardless, I am no longer in need of any of your lessons.” She picks up her tray and I stop
her by taking hold of her arm.
“You never really were.” She looks at me blankly. “You never were in need of my lessons. I’m
sorry about the chicken thing.” I offer sincerely. Her face softens just a bit when Ronna comes
up to us.
“Josh, we’ve got a request from Greg Brock for an interview…”
“Take it!” I tell her enthusiastically. “He writes one article about the Congressman and we’ll
jump in the polls overnight.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to Matt, er…I mean the Congressman. He wants to talk with you;
about why you left the White House and recruited the Congressman to run.”
I can’t very well tell Brock that the reason I left the White House is currently standing next to
me in the breakfast buffet line, so I settle for my standard, “I’m not the story. Ronna, this is
Donna.” Ronna nods her head in Donna’s direction, but keeps her body turned towards mine.
“Why don’t you come and talk to the Congressman about it?” she says with a wink and I
realize she’s trying to extricate me from my uncomfortable interaction with Donna.
“That’s okay; I’m fine.” Ronna looks from me, to Donna, and back to me again.
“We leave in 15 minutes.” She reminds me and goes back to the table.
“I need to go too.” Donna tells me and before I can blink, she’s gone.
I walk solemnly back to the table Ronna and the Congressman are already occupying when a
grin breaks out on my face. Sitting in the middle of my plate are several pieces of fruit…fruit
that I didn’t put there myself. My head snaps up to look at Donna, but she is seated facing the
opposite direction. I can’t get the smile off my face the rest of the day.
Author: Cathy Miller (www.cathyswestwing.com
<http://www.cathyswestwing.com/> )
Rating: PG 13 (language)
Timeline: between "Opposition Research" and "A Good Day"
Disclaimer: I own none of them, I make nothing from them
Feedback:…is so nice.
Josh's POV:
I have got to get some coffee. I think I may have blocked out how
exhausting these primary campaign swings are. Of course, the last time I
did this, I was traveling on Air Force One. These days, my traveling
arrangements aren't nearly as grandiose. Today, for instance, I was
chauffeured around town by a teenage volunteer in his VW Bug. When the
bug finally pulls up in front of the Holiday Inn or whatever the hell it
is we're staying in while campaigning in New Hampshire, I get out,
thank the kid for driving, and head in to find some coffee.
I nearly do a double take when I see Donna Moss in line ahead of me at
the counter. I start to reach out my hand to touch her shoulder then
drop it quickly to my side. We haven't spoken in a long time and I
don't know what I'd say to her right now. Just as I'm
contemplating my options, 2 teenyboppers run up behind her shouting her
name.
"Skip the coffee, Donna. Come have a beer with us." The first
one instructs her.
"I need some coffee and some food." She replies giving them an
indulgent look.
"At least bring it into the bar and sit with us." The second one
suggested. Donna turned to face her and I could tell the second she
spotted me. She visibly jolted.
"Will and I have some things to go over for tomorrow's
events." Donna answered, but her eyes didn't leave mine.
"Fine, but we're going to get some beer." The first girl
huffed out and flounced away.
"Hi." She offers me a tentative smile, and for some reason it
makes me mad.
"They better hope the bartender here doesn't card." I
respond. "How much do they pay you to chaperone Bingo Bob's
Babies?" Her eyes go frosty and I feel a small sense of satisfaction
that the barb struck home.
"A hell of a lot more than I made being yours." Ouch!
"I'm surprised to see the Santos campaign staying here. I would
have thought it was a little out of your price range. Isn't there a
camp site nearby you could use?"
"We could…I'm quite the outdoorsman, you know." I reply
and see that innuendo strike home as well.
"Can I help you?" the woman at the counter asks Donna.
"Yes, I'd like…two large coffees; sugar, no cream."
Donna doesn't turn around again and I feel the wall between us just
got a little higher. What's worse is that I'm the one who added
the bricks and gave her the cement.
I should say something else; apologize maybe. At least start a nicer
conversation. I take one step closer to her when I feel a hand hit my
shoulder. I turn to find Will Bailey next to me.
"Josh. I'm surprised to see you here." See, he's trying
to rub it in that he's running the campaign for the Democratic front
runner, while my guy is polling in the single digits, because I turned
Russell down.
"That's just what Donna was saying." I respond casually.
"I don't know what I'd do without Donna." Will shakes
his head ruefully. "She can handle details and manage people like no
one else I've even seen." Another dig at me while complimenting
Donna where she can hear him…nice.
"Well, she's had a lot of experience over the last eight
years." I hit back. "When you've been lucky enough to have
had the opportunity to work at the White House…" Notice I don't
mention who the lucky one was.
"Right. Well after Russell wins, she can look forward to many more
years in the White House…with a more substantive role of
course." Donna paid for her coffees and turned to face us.
"I can't imagine her playing a more substantive role." I say
honestly and make eye contact with her to ensure she gets my meaning.
"This is the woman who single handedly saved social security after
all." I offer a smile; hoping she sees it for the olive branch I
mean it to be, but she doesn't smile back at all.
"Here, Will, I bought you a coffee." She hands it to Will, but
she's looking at me.
"Thanks." He seems puzzled by the undercurrents between us.
That's right you schmuck, you may get to work side by side with her
now, and she may buy you coffee to piss me off, but you don't
understand why do you? You don't understand Donna at all. You
don't get that all the trivia she stores up and spouts out is
because she still feels insecure about not having her degree. You
don't know that movies with explosions in them freak her out ever
since Gaza. You have no idea that I risked Federal prison for her
because she risked it for me.
"We should go over the events for tomorrow. Maybe up in my
room?" she suggests. "It's a lot quieter and much
more…private. We can order up some food and share?" Now she
won't look at me at all. Only Will. If she asked me what one
statement would hurt more than any other, it would have been that one
right there. I look at the floor so she can't see the hurt in my
eyes. My heart is pounding so hard I think the coffee express worker
must be able to hear it.
"Can I help you sir?" she asks me.
"Uh…no. No thanks. I'm just gonna..thanks anyway." I
back away from the counter and head toward the elevator being very
careful not to look at Donna or Will. Will may not understand the nuance
here, but he certainly knows there's something else being said
between Donna and me.
Thankfully for me, the elevator opens the moment I press the button and
I can make my escape quickly and alone. God, I've waited and waited
for a chance to talk to her, then I finally get it and what do I do?
Make some asshole comment about her job. That hasn't been a
sensitive subject between us or anything, right? I am so stupid! There
she stands, not five feet away from me looking all beautiful and even
smiling at me, which in and of itself is a miracle, and I blow it with
her…again.
Donna's POV:
The maddening son of a…I tried. I really did. I smiled, I took the
first step, and what does he do? Belittle my job. So, I let him have it;
him and his job with a single digit upstart Texan. That was fair. And
buying Will coffee? Okay, that may have been a little over the top, but
he hurt me…again…on purpose…about work. A little revenge was
in order.
Then he made the outdoorsmen comment, knowing it would take me back to
after Rosslyn and make me feel all mushy and weak inside. He did it
intentionally just to get an emotional response from me! He's really
not an outdoorsman, you know. That's why I had to ratchet it up a
bit. I had too! I really do not want to eat with Will tonight. We get
stuck together a lot simply because we're the only 2 staff over 30
here. Yet, here I am sitting at the cramped table in my hotel room,
sharing dinner with him. Not sharing like Josh and I always shared, but
still.
"…and I think we should hold off on that for now. What do you
think?" Will asks me. I look at him blankly and he tries again.
"Donna, have you heard a word I said?"
"Some of them." I admit and stuff another French fry in my
mouth.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Will asks.
"Talk about what?" I try for ignorance.
"Whatever just happened with you and Josh. I don't pretend to
understand any of it-"
"Nobody understands any of it." I mutter. "Don't worry
about it."
"I normally wouldn't except for the fact that your little
performance back there painted a pretty big bullseye on my back."
"Don't be ridiculous. Josh doesn't care about you… Okay,
that didn't come out sounding right. I meant Josh's ego
doesn't consider…This isn't about you. It's about him
punishing me for my disloyalty."
"Disloyalty?"
"That's how he sees it. I've gone over to the enemy."
"Russell is a Democrat! He helped pick Russell for the VP spot."
This made me laugh.
"He did NOT help pick Russell. That was the Republican leadership
flexing their muscles after Zoe. The President wanted Berryhill and it
killed Josh that he couldn't make that happen." I explained to
him.
"Still, he's going to screw himself over with the party going up
against Russell. Once Russell has the nomination, it will be too late
for Josh to switch allegiance and work on the national campaign."
"I don't think you have to worry about that." I tell him
drolly. "Josh Lyman would never come crawling back to the Russell
campaign for a job."
"Hmmm. Can I ask you something?" Will ventured.
"I guess."
"Why are you here with me instead of out there with him?" I look
up at him trying to discern his meaning. "I mean on this campaign
rather than Santos'. You must have known what his plans were. Why
aren't you, his trusty sidekick, working with him?"
"You mean FOR him." I corrected. "Josh doesn't work well
WITH others. And you just answered your own question. Being Josh
Lyman's trusty sidekick is not all that I aspire to be." It came
out a little hotter than I had intended, but Will got the point.
"I didn't mean to get you all upset. I just figured after
working so long together, it would be natural for you to follow him to
Santos."
"I didn't know anything about Santos. Apparently he came up with
that brainstorm after I left." I admit quietly.
"And you're sure I don't have to hire someone to watch my
back for flying knives or anything?"
"Positive. If it isn't related to him, Josh could care less
where I am and what I'm doing." It hurts to say the words out
loud to Will and I look back at the pile of French fries that are really
too much for one person.
"If you say so." Will doesn't sound entirely convinced.
"Get some sleep. We'll meet downstairs at 7, okay?"
"Goodnight." He opens the door and who should be walking down
the hall but Josh Lyman himself. He looks startled at first, but then
quickly recovers himself and gives us a tight smile as he continues down
the hall with some woman from the Santos camp. They are both dressed
casually and I wonder where they are going. None of my business of
course, but his hand is on her back as it used to rest on mine during
many walks through numerous hallways. I'm surprised at the intensity
of feelings that sight arouses in me.
Then the door closes and shuts him and the Santos woman from view, but
the picture stays in my head for the rest of the night.
*************************************************************************************
Josh’s POV:
“I don’t care.” I repeat. Is this woman deaf?
“Solids or stripes is not a complicated political question.” Ronna insists as she hands me a
pool cue.
“Fine…solids.” I choose and allow her to break. “Why are we doing this again?”
“It builds team morale and helps relax the mind and body.” Santos explains. “You were
brooding.”
“I’ve already explained that’s my natural personality.”
“I think I could believe that, except that it seems to be augmented anytime we cross paths with
the Russell crew.” Matt noted.
“A particular member of the Russell crew.” Ned added.
“Will Bailey is a putz.” I maintain.
“I don’t think that’s who he meant.” Santos laughed.
“I don’t know who else he could have meant.” I take my turn, but it doesn’t go well for me.
“Come on, Josh. You can tell us. What’s the story with you and the blond?” Ronna tries to
goad me.
“We worked together at the White House.” I figure giving them an inch will save me from
walking the mile.
“She was his personal assistant at the White House.” Santos corrects me. “For low long,
Josh? Seven, eight years?”
“Eight.” I respond tightly and down another mouthful of beer.
“That’s a long time.” Ronna notes. “Were you…close?”
“Of course. We worked together for eight years.” I swallow the rest of my beer and signal for
another.
“I meant-“ Ronna started to expound.
“I know what you meant, and that’s not only personal, it’s insulting.” I snap.
“Hold on.” Santos intervenes. “She was just teasing, Josh. She didn’t mean anything by it. The
three of us,” he motions to Ronna, Ned, and himself. “have been through a few campaigns
together and we’re used to giving each other a hard time, that’s all.”
I nod and Ronna quietly says, “Sorry.”
“We just didn’t end on very good terms and it’s awkward running into her here all the time.” I
admit.
“Well, we’re a team now. We can run interference for you.” Ronna decides and her
enthusiasm and naiveté, reminding me of someone else who had been new to national
politics, make me smirk.
“Yeah, okay.” I answer her as I pick up the cue for my turn again. Again, it doesn’t go well.
“Good thing you’re an ace in politics, Joshua. You’d make a lousy professional pool player.”
Santos grins.
“I think you’ll find I pretty much suck at anything that doesn’t have to do with politics, sir.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Matt?” The Congressman asks.
I shake my head and realize this is going to be a long, uphill battle.
***************************************************************************************************
Donna’s POV:
There’s only the one restaurant in the hotel, so I had already braced myself to see him when
Will and I walk into the restaurant for breakfast. He looks tired and pale. The Santos woman is
with him again as well as another man, and the candidate himself. The woman gives me an
appraising look and I wonder what Josh has said to her about me to cause her to look at me
like that.
Will and I sit down and are soon surrounded by ‘Bingo Bob’s Babies’ as Josh calls them. Will is
giving them their marching orders for the day and I am trying to stay focused on what he’s
saying but my eyes keep drifting to Josh and I find myself trying to see what he has on his
plate. He can’t be eating well. ‘Stop it, Donna. It’s not your concern what the man eats
anymore’ I tell myself.
I see them get up to leave and the woman whispers something to Josh before she moves to
walk between him and our table; Josh is rolling his eyes. What is that all about?
By dinner I am ready to drop. I think we’ve gone to every home in the city. Josh always told me
New Hampshire politics is retail, but surely we’ve taken it a step too far.
“Did you hear about the dust up between Santos and Westin?” Will asks me.
“Dust up? I thought they were just doing a photo op together?” Will had complained long and
loud about Josh using his relationship with the eldest Bartlet daughter to make political hay for
Santos.
“Westin blind sided Santos with some old quote Santos gave about the New Hampshire voters
not being representative of the diversity in this country; right in front of the media!” Will is way
too excited about this for my taste. “The whole orchestrated meeting didn’t quite turn out the
way Josh planned, I’m guessing.”
“No, it doesn’t sound like it.” I agree, but what I don’t say is that the ‘dust up’ will generate a
hell of a lot of press and Santos will come off as being his own man. The quote may hurt him
in New Hampshire, but outside New Hampshire, it will be a plus. No one outside this state
would believe the population here is diverse.
I was seriously concerned about Josh’s state of mind, choosing to support Santos, when I
heard some of his policy ideas. Now, watching things close up, I’m beginning to see what Josh
saw in him. Yes, he seems to be a bit of a loose canon, but he also has a passion, a fire that
reminds me of President Bartlet when he would get going about something important to him. I
still don’t think they have a serious shot at the nomination, they can’t even get into the debate
at this point, but I do see what Josh might have seen when he flew to Texas to recruit Santos.
“I’ve been thinking about the debate.” I begin. “We should make a push to get more
candidates on stage with Hoynes and Russell.”
“Why?” He asks me. This is what I DO like about working with Will. He always wants to get my
opinion and listens to me when I give it. If I sometimes wish he would argue with me about it a
little, then that’s my problem. This is how healthy colleagues verbally interact with one another.
“We don’t want a direct comparison with Hoynes. Whatever his personal problems may be,
John Hoynes comes off as a confident statesman. The more 2nd tier candidates we have on
that stage, the better the Vice-President looks.” I summarize.
“Sadly, I think you’re right, but how do we argue for all the candidates being included in the
debate without looking like we’re ducking Hoynes?”
“All the candidates that were excluded are already making a lot of noise. If the Vice President
agrees with them, as a matter of principle, it won’t cost us a thing.”
“So we get together with the other candidates on this.” Will ponders this for a minute. “Let’s
bring it directly to the paper that’s sponsoring the debate. It would be better coming directly
from them.”
“Perfect.” I nod and get on the phone to make it happen.
****************************************************************************************
Josh’s POV:
What a day! We start with a Donnatella sighting at breakfast, during which Ronna insists she
is my wingman and goes about ‘protecting’ me from any contact with her. Then Doug, the
political idiot, makes trouble for us at what was supposed to be a benign photo op. The
Congressman, who is still insisting that I call him Matt, handled it well enough, but God, I can’t
help wonder why a beautiful, intelligent woman like Liz Bartlet ever married him. The only good
thing to come out of it is that we ended up generating lots of media coverage. That can only
be good for us since most voters have never heard of my guy before.
Then, we end up in a meeting with the newspaper editor who is sponsoring the debate. This
wouldn’t be noteworthy except for the fact that we’re in the meeting with Will Bailey and Bob
Russell. He must be seriously worried about a direct comparison to Hoynes to be here
pretending he cares about ‘fairness’ in the debate.
Anyway, we almost have the thing clinched with the paper to get everyone included in the
debate when ‘Matt’ does the very thing I ask him not to…he speaks. He goes on and on about
the debate format until Bingo Bob nearly sprints from the room.
So this is how I end up watching Donna fight with a giant chicken on national television tonight.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, so I had a couple volunteers dress up as
chickens to follow Hoynes and Russell around, and ask why they’re too chicken to debate the
full field. Donna yanks ‘chicken Bob’ away from her candidate by the wing and gives him both
barrels. The only problem is she did it in front of TV and print media. Now they’re re-running
the footage at the top of every newscast. It’s hilarious! Not that I think Donna will think so; but
it is.
She goes on a rant about running a serious campaign and how we shouldn’t be stooping to
these sophomoric tricks to get media attention. She looks so beautiful with her long hair
whipping around her and her cheeks flushed with anger. Her passion comes across very well.
The thing is, I can’t help but think that she wasn’t really yelling at chicken Bob. It seemed like
her impassioned speech was aimed at me.
I know she doesn’t understand why I didn’t get on the Russell bandwagon if I was going to
work on a Presidential campaign. I know she doesn’t see what I see when I look at Matt
Santos; hardly anyone does. It’s just that Donna always understood me and why I did things
and the fact that she doesn’t anymore hurts.
When I spot her the next morning at breakfast, she studiously avoid looking in my direction. I
decide to take the bull by the horns and try to talk to her when she returns to the buffet line.
“Good morning.” I start genially.
“I’m not speaking to you, Joshua.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t speak to people who send grown men dressed as chickens to disrupt serious
candidates for President.”
I digest this for a second. “You looked good on TV.” I offer and see her jaw clench.
“Someone once told me that nothing should be taken more seriously than a Presidential
campaign.” She throws my own words at me.
“Someone also told you to never engage a grown man dressed as a chicken.”
“You NEVER said any such-“
“I should have. We must have missed that lesson.”
“Given that you had 8 years to impart such wisdom, it’s astonishing that you missed it.
Regardless, I am no longer in need of any of your lessons.” She picks up her tray and I stop
her by taking hold of her arm.
“You never really were.” She looks at me blankly. “You never were in need of my lessons. I’m
sorry about the chicken thing.” I offer sincerely. Her face softens just a bit when Ronna comes
up to us.
“Josh, we’ve got a request from Greg Brock for an interview…”
“Take it!” I tell her enthusiastically. “He writes one article about the Congressman and we’ll
jump in the polls overnight.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to Matt, er…I mean the Congressman. He wants to talk with you;
about why you left the White House and recruited the Congressman to run.”
I can’t very well tell Brock that the reason I left the White House is currently standing next to
me in the breakfast buffet line, so I settle for my standard, “I’m not the story. Ronna, this is
Donna.” Ronna nods her head in Donna’s direction, but keeps her body turned towards mine.
“Why don’t you come and talk to the Congressman about it?” she says with a wink and I
realize she’s trying to extricate me from my uncomfortable interaction with Donna.
“That’s okay; I’m fine.” Ronna looks from me, to Donna, and back to me again.
“We leave in 15 minutes.” She reminds me and goes back to the table.
“I need to go too.” Donna tells me and before I can blink, she’s gone.
I walk solemnly back to the table Ronna and the Congressman are already occupying when a
grin breaks out on my face. Sitting in the middle of my plate are several pieces of fruit…fruit
that I didn’t put there myself. My head snaps up to look at Donna, but she is seated facing the
opposite direction. I can’t get the smile off my face the rest of the day.
Title: On the Road Again
Author: Cathy Miller (www.cathyswestwing.com
<http://www.cathyswestwing.com/> )
Rating: PG 13 (language)
Timeline: between "Opposition Research" and "A Good Day"
Disclaimer: I own none of them, I make nothing from them
Feedback:…is so nice.
Josh's POV:
I have got to get some coffee. I think I may have blocked out how
exhausting these primary campaign swings are. Of course, the last time I
did this, I was traveling on Air Force One. These days, my traveling
arrangements aren't nearly as grandiose. Today, for instance, I was
chauffeured around town by a teenage volunteer in his VW Bug. When the
bug finally pulls up in front of the Holiday Inn or whatever the hell it
is we're staying in while campaigning in New Hampshire, I get out,
thank the kid for driving, and head in to find some coffee.
I nearly do a double take when I see Donna Moss in line ahead of me at
the counter. I start to reach out my hand to touch her shoulder then
drop it quickly to my side. We haven't spoken in a long time and I
don't know what I'd say to her right now. Just as I'm
contemplating my options, 2 teenyboppers run up behind her shouting her
name.
"Skip the coffee, Donna. Come have a beer with us." The first
one instructs her.
"I need some coffee and some food." She replies giving them an
indulgent look.
"At least bring it into the bar and sit with us." The second one
suggested. Donna turned to face her and I could tell the second she
spotted me. She visibly jolted.
"Will and I have some things to go over for tomorrow's
events." Donna answered, but her eyes didn't leave mine.
"Fine, but we're going to get some beer." The first girl
huffed out and flounced away.
"Hi." She offers me a tentative smile, and for some reason it
makes me mad.
"They better hope the bartender here doesn't card." I
respond. "How much do they pay you to chaperone Bingo Bob's
Babies?" Her eyes go frosty and I feel a small sense of satisfaction
that the barb struck home.
"A hell of a lot more than I made being yours." Ouch!
"I'm surprised to see the Santos campaign staying here. I would
have thought it was a little out of your price range. Isn't there a
camp site nearby you could use?"
"We could…I'm quite the outdoorsman, you know." I reply
and see that innuendo strike home as well.
"Can I help you?" the woman at the counter asks Donna.
"Yes, I'd like…two large coffees; sugar, no cream."
Donna doesn't turn around again and I feel the wall between us just
got a little higher. What's worse is that I'm the one who added
the bricks and gave her the cement.
I should say something else; apologize maybe. At least start a nicer
conversation. I take one step closer to her when I feel a hand hit my
shoulder. I turn to find Will Bailey next to me.
"Josh. I'm surprised to see you here." See, he's trying
to rub it in that he's running the campaign for the Democratic front
runner, while my guy is polling in the single digits, because I turned
Russell down.
"That's just what Donna was saying." I respond casually.
"I don't know what I'd do without Donna." Will shakes
his head ruefully. "She can handle details and manage people like no
one else I've even seen." Another dig at me while complimenting
Donna where she can hear him…nice.
"Well, she's had a lot of experience over the last eight
years." I hit back. "When you've been lucky enough to have
had the opportunity to work at the White House…" Notice I don't
mention who the lucky one was.
"Right. Well after Russell wins, she can look forward to many more
years in the White House…with a more substantive role of
course." Donna paid for her coffees and turned to face us.
"I can't imagine her playing a more substantive role." I say
honestly and make eye contact with her to ensure she gets my meaning.
"This is the woman who single handedly saved social security after
all." I offer a smile; hoping she sees it for the olive branch I
mean it to be, but she doesn't smile back at all.
"Here, Will, I bought you a coffee." She hands it to Will, but
she's looking at me.
"Thanks." He seems puzzled by the undercurrents between us.
That's right you schmuck, you may get to work side by side with her
now, and she may buy you coffee to piss me off, but you don't
understand why do you? You don't understand Donna at all. You
don't get that all the trivia she stores up and spouts out is
because she still feels insecure about not having her degree. You
don't know that movies with explosions in them freak her out ever
since Gaza. You have no idea that I risked Federal prison for her
because she risked it for me.
"We should go over the events for tomorrow. Maybe up in my
room?" she suggests. "It's a lot quieter and much
more…private. We can order up some food and share?" Now she
won't look at me at all. Only Will. If she asked me what one
statement would hurt more than any other, it would have been that one
right there. I look at the floor so she can't see the hurt in my
eyes. My heart is pounding so hard I think the coffee express worker
must be able to hear it.
"Can I help you sir?" she asks me.
"Uh…no. No thanks. I'm just gonna..thanks anyway." I
back away from the counter and head toward the elevator being very
careful not to look at Donna or Will. Will may not understand the nuance
here, but he certainly knows there's something else being said
between Donna and me.
Thankfully for me, the elevator opens the moment I press the button and
I can make my escape quickly and alone. God, I've waited and waited
for a chance to talk to her, then I finally get it and what do I do?
Make some asshole comment about her job. That hasn't been a
sensitive subject between us or anything, right? I am so stupid! There
she stands, not five feet away from me looking all beautiful and even
smiling at me, which in and of itself is a miracle, and I blow it with
her…again.
Donna's POV:
The maddening son of a…I tried. I really did. I smiled, I took the
first step, and what does he do? Belittle my job. So, I let him have it;
him and his job with a single digit upstart Texan. That was fair. And
buying Will coffee? Okay, that may have been a little over the top, but
he hurt me…again…on purpose…about work. A little revenge was
in order.
Then he made the outdoorsmen comment, knowing it would take me back to
after Rosslyn and make me feel all mushy and weak inside. He did it
intentionally just to get an emotional response from me! He's really
not an outdoorsman, you know. That's why I had to ratchet it up a
bit. I had too! I really do not want to eat with Will tonight. We get
stuck together a lot simply because we're the only 2 staff over 30
here. Yet, here I am sitting at the cramped table in my hotel room,
sharing dinner with him. Not sharing like Josh and I always shared, but
still.
"…and I think we should hold off on that for now. What do you
think?" Will asks me. I look at him blankly and he tries again.
"Donna, have you heard a word I said?"
"Some of them." I admit and stuff another French fry in my
mouth.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Will asks.
"Talk about what?" I try for ignorance.
"Whatever just happened with you and Josh. I don't pretend to
understand any of it-"
"Nobody understands any of it." I mutter. "Don't worry
about it."
"I normally wouldn't except for the fact that your little
performance back there painted a pretty big bullseye on my back."
"Don't be ridiculous. Josh doesn't care about you… Okay,
that didn't come out sounding right. I meant Josh's ego
doesn't consider…This isn't about you. It's about him
punishing me for my disloyalty."
"Disloyalty?"
"That's how he sees it. I've gone over to the enemy."
"Russell is a Democrat! He helped pick Russell for the VP spot."
This made me laugh.
"He did NOT help pick Russell. That was the Republican leadership
flexing their muscles after Zoe. The President wanted Berryhill and it
killed Josh that he couldn't make that happen." I explained to
him.
"Still, he's going to screw himself over with the party going up
against Russell. Once Russell has the nomination, it will be too late
for Josh to switch allegiance and work on the national campaign."
"I don't think you have to worry about that." I tell him
drolly. "Josh Lyman would never come crawling back to the Russell
campaign for a job."
"Hmmm. Can I ask you something?" Will ventured.
"I guess."
"Why are you here with me instead of out there with him?" I look
up at him trying to discern his meaning. "I mean on this campaign
rather than Santos'. You must have known what his plans were. Why
aren't you, his trusty sidekick, working with him?"
"You mean FOR him." I corrected. "Josh doesn't work well
WITH others. And you just answered your own question. Being Josh
Lyman's trusty sidekick is not all that I aspire to be." It came
out a little hotter than I had intended, but Will got the point.
"I didn't mean to get you all upset. I just figured after
working so long together, it would be natural for you to follow him to
Santos."
"I didn't know anything about Santos. Apparently he came up with
that brainstorm after I left." I admit quietly.
"And you're sure I don't have to hire someone to watch my
back for flying knives or anything?"
"Positive. If it isn't related to him, Josh could care less
where I am and what I'm doing." It hurts to say the words out
loud to Will and I look back at the pile of French fries that are really
too much for one person.
"If you say so." Will doesn't sound entirely convinced.
"Get some sleep. We'll meet downstairs at 7, okay?"
"Goodnight." He opens the door and who should be walking down
the hall but Josh Lyman himself. He looks startled at first, but then
quickly recovers himself and gives us a tight smile as he continues down
the hall with some woman from the Santos camp. They are both dressed
casually and I wonder where they are going. None of my business of
course, but his hand is on her back as it used to rest on mine during
many walks through numerous hallways. I'm surprised at the intensity
of feelings that sight arouses in me.
Then the door closes and shuts him and the Santos woman from view, but
the picture stays in my head for the rest of the night.
*************************************************************************************
Josh’s POV:
“I don’t care.” I repeat. Is this woman deaf?
“Solids or stripes is not a complicated political question.” Ronna insists as she hands me a
pool cue.
“Fine…solids.” I choose and allow her to break. “Why are we doing this again?”
“It builds team morale and helps relax the mind and body.” Santos explains. “You were
brooding.”
“I’ve already explained that’s my natural personality.”
“I think I could believe that, except that it seems to be augmented anytime we cross paths with
the Russell crew.” Matt noted.
“A particular member of the Russell crew.” Ned added.
“Will Bailey is a putz.” I maintain.
“I don’t think that’s who he meant.” Santos laughed.
“I don’t know who else he could have meant.” I take my turn, but it doesn’t go well for me.
“Come on, Josh. You can tell us. What’s the story with you and the blond?” Ronna tries to
goad me.
“We worked together at the White House.” I figure giving them an inch will save me from
walking the mile.
“She was his personal assistant at the White House.” Santos corrects me. “For low long,
Josh? Seven, eight years?”
“Eight.” I respond tightly and down another mouthful of beer.
“That’s a long time.” Ronna notes. “Were you…close?”
“Of course. We worked together for eight years.” I swallow the rest of my beer and signal for
another.
“I meant-“ Ronna started to expound.
“I know what you meant, and that’s not only personal, it’s insulting.” I snap.
“Hold on.” Santos intervenes. “She was just teasing, Josh. She didn’t mean anything by it. The
three of us,” he motions to Ronna, Ned, and himself. “have been through a few campaigns
together and we’re used to giving each other a hard time, that’s all.”
I nod and Ronna quietly says, “Sorry.”
“We just didn’t end on very good terms and it’s awkward running into her here all the time.” I
admit.
“Well, we’re a team now. We can run interference for you.” Ronna decides and her
enthusiasm and naiveté, reminding me of someone else who had been new to national
politics, make me smirk.
“Yeah, okay.” I answer her as I pick up the cue for my turn again. Again, it doesn’t go well.
“Good thing you’re an ace in politics, Joshua. You’d make a lousy professional pool player.”
Santos grins.
“I think you’ll find I pretty much suck at anything that doesn’t have to do with politics, sir.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Matt?” The Congressman asks.
I shake my head and realize this is going to be a long, uphill battle.
***************************************************************************************************
Donna’s POV:
There’s only the one restaurant in the hotel, so I had already braced myself to see him when
Will and I walk into the restaurant for breakfast. He looks tired and pale. The Santos woman is
with him again as well as another man, and the candidate himself. The woman gives me an
appraising look and I wonder what Josh has said to her about me to cause her to look at me
like that.
Will and I sit down and are soon surrounded by ‘Bingo Bob’s Babies’ as Josh calls them. Will is
giving them their marching orders for the day and I am trying to stay focused on what he’s
saying but my eyes keep drifting to Josh and I find myself trying to see what he has on his
plate. He can’t be eating well. ‘Stop it, Donna. It’s not your concern what the man eats
anymore’ I tell myself.
I see them get up to leave and the woman whispers something to Josh before she moves to
walk between him and our table; Josh is rolling his eyes. What is that all about?
By dinner I am ready to drop. I think we’ve gone to every home in the city. Josh always told me
New Hampshire politics is retail, but surely we’ve taken it a step too far.
“Did you hear about the dust up between Santos and Westin?” Will asks me.
“Dust up? I thought they were just doing a photo op together?” Will had complained long and
loud about Josh using his relationship with the eldest Bartlet daughter to make political hay for
Santos.
“Westin blind sided Santos with some old quote Santos gave about the New Hampshire voters
not being representative of the diversity in this country; right in front of the media!” Will is way
too excited about this for my taste. “The whole orchestrated meeting didn’t quite turn out the
way Josh planned, I’m guessing.”
“No, it doesn’t sound like it.” I agree, but what I don’t say is that the ‘dust up’ will generate a
hell of a lot of press and Santos will come off as being his own man. The quote may hurt him
in New Hampshire, but outside New Hampshire, it will be a plus. No one outside this state
would believe the population here is diverse.
I was seriously concerned about Josh’s state of mind, choosing to support Santos, when I
heard some of his policy ideas. Now, watching things close up, I’m beginning to see what Josh
saw in him. Yes, he seems to be a bit of a loose canon, but he also has a passion, a fire that
reminds me of President Bartlet when he would get going about something important to him. I
still don’t think they have a serious shot at the nomination, they can’t even get into the debate
at this point, but I do see what Josh might have seen when he flew to Texas to recruit Santos.
“I’ve been thinking about the debate.” I begin. “We should make a push to get more
candidates on stage with Hoynes and Russell.”
“Why?” He asks me. This is what I DO like about working with Will. He always wants to get my
opinion and listens to me when I give it. If I sometimes wish he would argue with me about it a
little, then that’s my problem. This is how healthy colleagues verbally interact with one another.
“We don’t want a direct comparison with Hoynes. Whatever his personal problems may be,
John Hoynes comes off as a confident statesman. The more 2nd tier candidates we have on
that stage, the better the Vice-President looks.” I summarize.
“Sadly, I think you’re right, but how do we argue for all the candidates being included in the
debate without looking like we’re ducking Hoynes?”
“All the candidates that were excluded are already making a lot of noise. If the Vice President
agrees with them, as a matter of principle, it won’t cost us a thing.”
“So we get together with the other candidates on this.” Will ponders this for a minute. “Let’s
bring it directly to the paper that’s sponsoring the debate. It would be better coming directly
from them.”
“Perfect.” I nod and get on the phone to make it happen.
****************************************************************************************
Josh’s POV:
What a day! We start with a Donnatella sighting at breakfast, during which Ronna insists she
is my wingman and goes about ‘protecting’ me from any contact with her. Then Doug, the
political idiot, makes trouble for us at what was supposed to be a benign photo op. The
Congressman, who is still insisting that I call him Matt, handled it well enough, but God, I can’t
help wonder why a beautiful, intelligent woman like Liz Bartlet ever married him. The only good
thing to come out of it is that we ended up generating lots of media coverage. That can only
be good for us since most voters have never heard of my guy before.
Then, we end up in a meeting with the newspaper editor who is sponsoring the debate. This
wouldn’t be noteworthy except for the fact that we’re in the meeting with Will Bailey and Bob
Russell. He must be seriously worried about a direct comparison to Hoynes to be here
pretending he cares about ‘fairness’ in the debate.
Anyway, we almost have the thing clinched with the paper to get everyone included in the
debate when ‘Matt’ does the very thing I ask him not to…he speaks. He goes on and on about
the debate format until Bingo Bob nearly sprints from the room.
So this is how I end up watching Donna fight with a giant chicken on national television tonight.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, so I had a couple volunteers dress up as
chickens to follow Hoynes and Russell around, and ask why they’re too chicken to debate the
full field. Donna yanks ‘chicken Bob’ away from her candidate by the wing and gives him both
barrels. The only problem is she did it in front of TV and print media. Now they’re re-running
the footage at the top of every newscast. It’s hilarious! Not that I think Donna will think so; but
it is.
She goes on a rant about running a serious campaign and how we shouldn’t be stooping to
these sophomoric tricks to get media attention. She looks so beautiful with her long hair
whipping around her and her cheeks flushed with anger. Her passion comes across very well.
The thing is, I can’t help but think that she wasn’t really yelling at chicken Bob. It seemed like
her impassioned speech was aimed at me.
I know she doesn’t understand why I didn’t get on the Russell bandwagon if I was going to
work on a Presidential campaign. I know she doesn’t see what I see when I look at Matt
Santos; hardly anyone does. It’s just that Donna always understood me and why I did things
and the fact that she doesn’t anymore hurts.
When I spot her the next morning at breakfast, she studiously avoid looking in my direction. I
decide to take the bull by the horns and try to talk to her when she returns to the buffet line.
“Good morning.” I start genially.
“I’m not speaking to you, Joshua.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t speak to people who send grown men dressed as chickens to disrupt serious
candidates for President.”
I digest this for a second. “You looked good on TV.” I offer and see her jaw clench.
“Someone once told me that nothing should be taken more seriously than a Presidential
campaign.” She throws my own words at me.
“Someone also told you to never engage a grown man dressed as a chicken.”
“You NEVER said any such-“
“I should have. We must have missed that lesson.”
“Given that you had 8 years to impart such wisdom, it’s astonishing that you missed it.
Regardless, I am no longer in need of any of your lessons.” She picks up her tray and I stop
her by taking hold of her arm.
“You never really were.” She looks at me blankly. “You never were in need of my lessons. I’m
sorry about the chicken thing.” I offer sincerely. Her face softens just a bit when Ronna comes
up to us.
“Josh, we’ve got a request from Greg Brock for an interview…”
“Take it!” I tell her enthusiastically. “He writes one article about the Congressman and we’ll
jump in the polls overnight.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to Matt, er…I mean the Congressman. He wants to talk with you;
about why you left the White House and recruited the Congressman to run.”
I can’t very well tell Brock that the reason I left the White House is currently standing next to
me in the breakfast buffet line, so I settle for my standard, “I’m not the story. Ronna, this is
Donna.” Ronna nods her head in Donna’s direction, but keeps her body turned towards mine.
“Why don’t you come and talk to the Congressman about it?” she says with a wink and I
realize she’s trying to extricate me from my uncomfortable interaction with Donna.
“That’s okay; I’m fine.” Ronna looks from me, to Donna, and back to me again.
“We leave in 15 minutes.” She reminds me and goes back to the table.
“I need to go too.” Donna tells me and before I can blink, she’s gone.
I walk solemnly back to the table Ronna and the Congressman are already occupying when a
grin breaks out on my face. Sitting in the middle of my plate are several pieces of fruit…fruit
that I didn’t put there myself. My head snaps up to look at Donna, but she is seated facing the
opposite direction. I can’t get the smile off my face the rest of the day.
Author: Cathy Miller (www.cathyswestwing.com
<http://www.cathyswestwing.com/> )
Rating: PG 13 (language)
Timeline: between "Opposition Research" and "A Good Day"
Disclaimer: I own none of them, I make nothing from them
Feedback:…is so nice.
Josh's POV:
I have got to get some coffee. I think I may have blocked out how
exhausting these primary campaign swings are. Of course, the last time I
did this, I was traveling on Air Force One. These days, my traveling
arrangements aren't nearly as grandiose. Today, for instance, I was
chauffeured around town by a teenage volunteer in his VW Bug. When the
bug finally pulls up in front of the Holiday Inn or whatever the hell it
is we're staying in while campaigning in New Hampshire, I get out,
thank the kid for driving, and head in to find some coffee.
I nearly do a double take when I see Donna Moss in line ahead of me at
the counter. I start to reach out my hand to touch her shoulder then
drop it quickly to my side. We haven't spoken in a long time and I
don't know what I'd say to her right now. Just as I'm
contemplating my options, 2 teenyboppers run up behind her shouting her
name.
"Skip the coffee, Donna. Come have a beer with us." The first
one instructs her.
"I need some coffee and some food." She replies giving them an
indulgent look.
"At least bring it into the bar and sit with us." The second one
suggested. Donna turned to face her and I could tell the second she
spotted me. She visibly jolted.
"Will and I have some things to go over for tomorrow's
events." Donna answered, but her eyes didn't leave mine.
"Fine, but we're going to get some beer." The first girl
huffed out and flounced away.
"Hi." She offers me a tentative smile, and for some reason it
makes me mad.
"They better hope the bartender here doesn't card." I
respond. "How much do they pay you to chaperone Bingo Bob's
Babies?" Her eyes go frosty and I feel a small sense of satisfaction
that the barb struck home.
"A hell of a lot more than I made being yours." Ouch!
"I'm surprised to see the Santos campaign staying here. I would
have thought it was a little out of your price range. Isn't there a
camp site nearby you could use?"
"We could…I'm quite the outdoorsman, you know." I reply
and see that innuendo strike home as well.
"Can I help you?" the woman at the counter asks Donna.
"Yes, I'd like…two large coffees; sugar, no cream."
Donna doesn't turn around again and I feel the wall between us just
got a little higher. What's worse is that I'm the one who added
the bricks and gave her the cement.
I should say something else; apologize maybe. At least start a nicer
conversation. I take one step closer to her when I feel a hand hit my
shoulder. I turn to find Will Bailey next to me.
"Josh. I'm surprised to see you here." See, he's trying
to rub it in that he's running the campaign for the Democratic front
runner, while my guy is polling in the single digits, because I turned
Russell down.
"That's just what Donna was saying." I respond casually.
"I don't know what I'd do without Donna." Will shakes
his head ruefully. "She can handle details and manage people like no
one else I've even seen." Another dig at me while complimenting
Donna where she can hear him…nice.
"Well, she's had a lot of experience over the last eight
years." I hit back. "When you've been lucky enough to have
had the opportunity to work at the White House…" Notice I don't
mention who the lucky one was.
"Right. Well after Russell wins, she can look forward to many more
years in the White House…with a more substantive role of
course." Donna paid for her coffees and turned to face us.
"I can't imagine her playing a more substantive role." I say
honestly and make eye contact with her to ensure she gets my meaning.
"This is the woman who single handedly saved social security after
all." I offer a smile; hoping she sees it for the olive branch I
mean it to be, but she doesn't smile back at all.
"Here, Will, I bought you a coffee." She hands it to Will, but
she's looking at me.
"Thanks." He seems puzzled by the undercurrents between us.
That's right you schmuck, you may get to work side by side with her
now, and she may buy you coffee to piss me off, but you don't
understand why do you? You don't understand Donna at all. You
don't get that all the trivia she stores up and spouts out is
because she still feels insecure about not having her degree. You
don't know that movies with explosions in them freak her out ever
since Gaza. You have no idea that I risked Federal prison for her
because she risked it for me.
"We should go over the events for tomorrow. Maybe up in my
room?" she suggests. "It's a lot quieter and much
more…private. We can order up some food and share?" Now she
won't look at me at all. Only Will. If she asked me what one
statement would hurt more than any other, it would have been that one
right there. I look at the floor so she can't see the hurt in my
eyes. My heart is pounding so hard I think the coffee express worker
must be able to hear it.
"Can I help you sir?" she asks me.
"Uh…no. No thanks. I'm just gonna..thanks anyway." I
back away from the counter and head toward the elevator being very
careful not to look at Donna or Will. Will may not understand the nuance
here, but he certainly knows there's something else being said
between Donna and me.
Thankfully for me, the elevator opens the moment I press the button and
I can make my escape quickly and alone. God, I've waited and waited
for a chance to talk to her, then I finally get it and what do I do?
Make some asshole comment about her job. That hasn't been a
sensitive subject between us or anything, right? I am so stupid! There
she stands, not five feet away from me looking all beautiful and even
smiling at me, which in and of itself is a miracle, and I blow it with
her…again.
Donna's POV:
The maddening son of a…I tried. I really did. I smiled, I took the
first step, and what does he do? Belittle my job. So, I let him have it;
him and his job with a single digit upstart Texan. That was fair. And
buying Will coffee? Okay, that may have been a little over the top, but
he hurt me…again…on purpose…about work. A little revenge was
in order.
Then he made the outdoorsmen comment, knowing it would take me back to
after Rosslyn and make me feel all mushy and weak inside. He did it
intentionally just to get an emotional response from me! He's really
not an outdoorsman, you know. That's why I had to ratchet it up a
bit. I had too! I really do not want to eat with Will tonight. We get
stuck together a lot simply because we're the only 2 staff over 30
here. Yet, here I am sitting at the cramped table in my hotel room,
sharing dinner with him. Not sharing like Josh and I always shared, but
still.
"…and I think we should hold off on that for now. What do you
think?" Will asks me. I look at him blankly and he tries again.
"Donna, have you heard a word I said?"
"Some of them." I admit and stuff another French fry in my
mouth.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Will asks.
"Talk about what?" I try for ignorance.
"Whatever just happened with you and Josh. I don't pretend to
understand any of it-"
"Nobody understands any of it." I mutter. "Don't worry
about it."
"I normally wouldn't except for the fact that your little
performance back there painted a pretty big bullseye on my back."
"Don't be ridiculous. Josh doesn't care about you… Okay,
that didn't come out sounding right. I meant Josh's ego
doesn't consider…This isn't about you. It's about him
punishing me for my disloyalty."
"Disloyalty?"
"That's how he sees it. I've gone over to the enemy."
"Russell is a Democrat! He helped pick Russell for the VP spot."
This made me laugh.
"He did NOT help pick Russell. That was the Republican leadership
flexing their muscles after Zoe. The President wanted Berryhill and it
killed Josh that he couldn't make that happen." I explained to
him.
"Still, he's going to screw himself over with the party going up
against Russell. Once Russell has the nomination, it will be too late
for Josh to switch allegiance and work on the national campaign."
"I don't think you have to worry about that." I tell him
drolly. "Josh Lyman would never come crawling back to the Russell
campaign for a job."
"Hmmm. Can I ask you something?" Will ventured.
"I guess."
"Why are you here with me instead of out there with him?" I look
up at him trying to discern his meaning. "I mean on this campaign
rather than Santos'. You must have known what his plans were. Why
aren't you, his trusty sidekick, working with him?"
"You mean FOR him." I corrected. "Josh doesn't work well
WITH others. And you just answered your own question. Being Josh
Lyman's trusty sidekick is not all that I aspire to be." It came
out a little hotter than I had intended, but Will got the point.
"I didn't mean to get you all upset. I just figured after
working so long together, it would be natural for you to follow him to
Santos."
"I didn't know anything about Santos. Apparently he came up with
that brainstorm after I left." I admit quietly.
"And you're sure I don't have to hire someone to watch my
back for flying knives or anything?"
"Positive. If it isn't related to him, Josh could care less
where I am and what I'm doing." It hurts to say the words out
loud to Will and I look back at the pile of French fries that are really
too much for one person.
"If you say so." Will doesn't sound entirely convinced.
"Get some sleep. We'll meet downstairs at 7, okay?"
"Goodnight." He opens the door and who should be walking down
the hall but Josh Lyman himself. He looks startled at first, but then
quickly recovers himself and gives us a tight smile as he continues down
the hall with some woman from the Santos camp. They are both dressed
casually and I wonder where they are going. None of my business of
course, but his hand is on her back as it used to rest on mine during
many walks through numerous hallways. I'm surprised at the intensity
of feelings that sight arouses in me.
Then the door closes and shuts him and the Santos woman from view, but
the picture stays in my head for the rest of the night.
*************************************************************************************
Josh’s POV:
“I don’t care.” I repeat. Is this woman deaf?
“Solids or stripes is not a complicated political question.” Ronna insists as she hands me a
pool cue.
“Fine…solids.” I choose and allow her to break. “Why are we doing this again?”
“It builds team morale and helps relax the mind and body.” Santos explains. “You were
brooding.”
“I’ve already explained that’s my natural personality.”
“I think I could believe that, except that it seems to be augmented anytime we cross paths with
the Russell crew.” Matt noted.
“A particular member of the Russell crew.” Ned added.
“Will Bailey is a putz.” I maintain.
“I don’t think that’s who he meant.” Santos laughed.
“I don’t know who else he could have meant.” I take my turn, but it doesn’t go well for me.
“Come on, Josh. You can tell us. What’s the story with you and the blond?” Ronna tries to
goad me.
“We worked together at the White House.” I figure giving them an inch will save me from
walking the mile.
“She was his personal assistant at the White House.” Santos corrects me. “For low long,
Josh? Seven, eight years?”
“Eight.” I respond tightly and down another mouthful of beer.
“That’s a long time.” Ronna notes. “Were you…close?”
“Of course. We worked together for eight years.” I swallow the rest of my beer and signal for
another.
“I meant-“ Ronna started to expound.
“I know what you meant, and that’s not only personal, it’s insulting.” I snap.
“Hold on.” Santos intervenes. “She was just teasing, Josh. She didn’t mean anything by it. The
three of us,” he motions to Ronna, Ned, and himself. “have been through a few campaigns
together and we’re used to giving each other a hard time, that’s all.”
I nod and Ronna quietly says, “Sorry.”
“We just didn’t end on very good terms and it’s awkward running into her here all the time.” I
admit.
“Well, we’re a team now. We can run interference for you.” Ronna decides and her
enthusiasm and naiveté, reminding me of someone else who had been new to national
politics, make me smirk.
“Yeah, okay.” I answer her as I pick up the cue for my turn again. Again, it doesn’t go well.
“Good thing you’re an ace in politics, Joshua. You’d make a lousy professional pool player.”
Santos grins.
“I think you’ll find I pretty much suck at anything that doesn’t have to do with politics, sir.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Matt?” The Congressman asks.
I shake my head and realize this is going to be a long, uphill battle.
***************************************************************************************************
Donna’s POV:
There’s only the one restaurant in the hotel, so I had already braced myself to see him when
Will and I walk into the restaurant for breakfast. He looks tired and pale. The Santos woman is
with him again as well as another man, and the candidate himself. The woman gives me an
appraising look and I wonder what Josh has said to her about me to cause her to look at me
like that.
Will and I sit down and are soon surrounded by ‘Bingo Bob’s Babies’ as Josh calls them. Will is
giving them their marching orders for the day and I am trying to stay focused on what he’s
saying but my eyes keep drifting to Josh and I find myself trying to see what he has on his
plate. He can’t be eating well. ‘Stop it, Donna. It’s not your concern what the man eats
anymore’ I tell myself.
I see them get up to leave and the woman whispers something to Josh before she moves to
walk between him and our table; Josh is rolling his eyes. What is that all about?
By dinner I am ready to drop. I think we’ve gone to every home in the city. Josh always told me
New Hampshire politics is retail, but surely we’ve taken it a step too far.
“Did you hear about the dust up between Santos and Westin?” Will asks me.
“Dust up? I thought they were just doing a photo op together?” Will had complained long and
loud about Josh using his relationship with the eldest Bartlet daughter to make political hay for
Santos.
“Westin blind sided Santos with some old quote Santos gave about the New Hampshire voters
not being representative of the diversity in this country; right in front of the media!” Will is way
too excited about this for my taste. “The whole orchestrated meeting didn’t quite turn out the
way Josh planned, I’m guessing.”
“No, it doesn’t sound like it.” I agree, but what I don’t say is that the ‘dust up’ will generate a
hell of a lot of press and Santos will come off as being his own man. The quote may hurt him
in New Hampshire, but outside New Hampshire, it will be a plus. No one outside this state
would believe the population here is diverse.
I was seriously concerned about Josh’s state of mind, choosing to support Santos, when I
heard some of his policy ideas. Now, watching things close up, I’m beginning to see what Josh
saw in him. Yes, he seems to be a bit of a loose canon, but he also has a passion, a fire that
reminds me of President Bartlet when he would get going about something important to him. I
still don’t think they have a serious shot at the nomination, they can’t even get into the debate
at this point, but I do see what Josh might have seen when he flew to Texas to recruit Santos.
“I’ve been thinking about the debate.” I begin. “We should make a push to get more
candidates on stage with Hoynes and Russell.”
“Why?” He asks me. This is what I DO like about working with Will. He always wants to get my
opinion and listens to me when I give it. If I sometimes wish he would argue with me about it a
little, then that’s my problem. This is how healthy colleagues verbally interact with one another.
“We don’t want a direct comparison with Hoynes. Whatever his personal problems may be,
John Hoynes comes off as a confident statesman. The more 2nd tier candidates we have on
that stage, the better the Vice-President looks.” I summarize.
“Sadly, I think you’re right, but how do we argue for all the candidates being included in the
debate without looking like we’re ducking Hoynes?”
“All the candidates that were excluded are already making a lot of noise. If the Vice President
agrees with them, as a matter of principle, it won’t cost us a thing.”
“So we get together with the other candidates on this.” Will ponders this for a minute. “Let’s
bring it directly to the paper that’s sponsoring the debate. It would be better coming directly
from them.”
“Perfect.” I nod and get on the phone to make it happen.
****************************************************************************************
Josh’s POV:
What a day! We start with a Donnatella sighting at breakfast, during which Ronna insists she
is my wingman and goes about ‘protecting’ me from any contact with her. Then Doug, the
political idiot, makes trouble for us at what was supposed to be a benign photo op. The
Congressman, who is still insisting that I call him Matt, handled it well enough, but God, I can’t
help wonder why a beautiful, intelligent woman like Liz Bartlet ever married him. The only good
thing to come out of it is that we ended up generating lots of media coverage. That can only
be good for us since most voters have never heard of my guy before.
Then, we end up in a meeting with the newspaper editor who is sponsoring the debate. This
wouldn’t be noteworthy except for the fact that we’re in the meeting with Will Bailey and Bob
Russell. He must be seriously worried about a direct comparison to Hoynes to be here
pretending he cares about ‘fairness’ in the debate.
Anyway, we almost have the thing clinched with the paper to get everyone included in the
debate when ‘Matt’ does the very thing I ask him not to…he speaks. He goes on and on about
the debate format until Bingo Bob nearly sprints from the room.
So this is how I end up watching Donna fight with a giant chicken on national television tonight.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, so I had a couple volunteers dress up as
chickens to follow Hoynes and Russell around, and ask why they’re too chicken to debate the
full field. Donna yanks ‘chicken Bob’ away from her candidate by the wing and gives him both
barrels. The only problem is she did it in front of TV and print media. Now they’re re-running
the footage at the top of every newscast. It’s hilarious! Not that I think Donna will think so; but
it is.
She goes on a rant about running a serious campaign and how we shouldn’t be stooping to
these sophomoric tricks to get media attention. She looks so beautiful with her long hair
whipping around her and her cheeks flushed with anger. Her passion comes across very well.
The thing is, I can’t help but think that she wasn’t really yelling at chicken Bob. It seemed like
her impassioned speech was aimed at me.
I know she doesn’t understand why I didn’t get on the Russell bandwagon if I was going to
work on a Presidential campaign. I know she doesn’t see what I see when I look at Matt
Santos; hardly anyone does. It’s just that Donna always understood me and why I did things
and the fact that she doesn’t anymore hurts.
When I spot her the next morning at breakfast, she studiously avoid looking in my direction. I
decide to take the bull by the horns and try to talk to her when she returns to the buffet line.
“Good morning.” I start genially.
“I’m not speaking to you, Joshua.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t speak to people who send grown men dressed as chickens to disrupt serious
candidates for President.”
I digest this for a second. “You looked good on TV.” I offer and see her jaw clench.
“Someone once told me that nothing should be taken more seriously than a Presidential
campaign.” She throws my own words at me.
“Someone also told you to never engage a grown man dressed as a chicken.”
“You NEVER said any such-“
“I should have. We must have missed that lesson.”
“Given that you had 8 years to impart such wisdom, it’s astonishing that you missed it.
Regardless, I am no longer in need of any of your lessons.” She picks up her tray and I stop
her by taking hold of her arm.
“You never really were.” She looks at me blankly. “You never were in need of my lessons. I’m
sorry about the chicken thing.” I offer sincerely. Her face softens just a bit when Ronna comes
up to us.
“Josh, we’ve got a request from Greg Brock for an interview…”
“Take it!” I tell her enthusiastically. “He writes one article about the Congressman and we’ll
jump in the polls overnight.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to Matt, er…I mean the Congressman. He wants to talk with you;
about why you left the White House and recruited the Congressman to run.”
I can’t very well tell Brock that the reason I left the White House is currently standing next to
me in the breakfast buffet line, so I settle for my standard, “I’m not the story. Ronna, this is
Donna.” Ronna nods her head in Donna’s direction, but keeps her body turned towards mine.
“Why don’t you come and talk to the Congressman about it?” she says with a wink and I
realize she’s trying to extricate me from my uncomfortable interaction with Donna.
“That’s okay; I’m fine.” Ronna looks from me, to Donna, and back to me again.
“We leave in 15 minutes.” She reminds me and goes back to the table.
“I need to go too.” Donna tells me and before I can blink, she’s gone.
I walk solemnly back to the table Ronna and the Congressman are already occupying when a
grin breaks out on my face. Sitting in the middle of my plate are several pieces of fruit…fruit
that I didn’t put there myself. My head snaps up to look at Donna, but she is seated facing the
opposite direction. I can’t get the smile off my face the rest of the day.
