Keeping the Spirit Part Three (PG)
Notes, disclaimers etc. in Part One
Part Two.
Originally posted between 17 and 21 December 2007
Last time…
“I’m sorry,” she sniffed, “it’s just… Josh has gone through a lot, you know? He’s lost so much… and now… “ her voice was a soft murmur, “it’s almost as though he’s losing himself, and I can’t bear it.”
Donna was stunned at her own words - how could she have forgotten..? What she’d said about Josh… Noah had as good as said the same thing about her. Was this what he’d meant - was she losing herself?
She turned to Noah, fighting hard to force back the encroaching tears.
“Please,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper, “no more. Take me back. Please. Please…”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Keeping the Spirit - Part Three
Donna sat bolt upright, her breath catching on a sob as she struggled to wakefulness and tried to work out where she was.
Her ragged breathing began to slow as her eyes adjusted to the gloom and she realized that she was back in her living room, sitting on her sofa. The television was off, and in the soft glow emitting from the lights on the Christmas tree, she could see from the clock on the mantelpiece that it was just past two am.
Just past..?
She rubbed her eyes and swung her legs to the floor. Wasn’t her second - visitor - due? Or maybe the Spirit of Christmas Past had done the trick? Yes, that was it - he’d reminded her that she needed to remember the good times as well as the bad; and really, there had been many more of the former than she’d been allowing herself to remember, hadn’t there?
Yes, so now, if she could just -
She was startled by a noise coming from the direction of the Christmas tree, and whipped around to see a couple of the branches swaying - and a figure sitting in the chair next to it, dressed in red velvet with black boots so shiny that she could see the tree lights reflected in them.
Donna dropped her head into her hands. So this nightmare wasn’t over yet.
The figure spoke. “Normally, I’d be saying ‘Come in and know me better man’ - but seeing that you’re already in - ”
She lifted her head slowly, eyes wide with astonishment, and looked at her guest properly for the first time.
“Admiral Fitzwallace?”
“Hello, Donna,” he smiled; and stood, positively dwarfing her tree - hell, making the room itself look smaller - then he walked over to stand in front of the mantelpiece, hands clasped behind his back.
Donna looked up at him - and to her surprise, found that she felt pleased to see him. She’d been so weighed down with guilt after the bombing; Fitz had been a family man, a highly respected and much decorated military officer, an experienced and trusted advisor - yet she’d survived and he hadn’t. Donna Moss, unremarkable spinster and secretary - had lived when this extraordinary man had died. But now, somehow, none of that mattered. He looked so full of life, so content; his smile was infectious, just as she remembered it, and it was impossible to feel anything but happiness in his presence.
“So…” she began, “I guess you must be the Spirit of Christmas Present?”
He nodded. “Guess I am.”
Donna stood up, noting with vague interest that the existence of a ghost in her living room was no longer freaking her out - and found she couldn’t help the grin which was spreading across her face. “Nice outfit.”
His smile broadened and he spread his arms wide. “I’ve been in uniform all my adult life - this seemed like a natural progression for me.”
“I have to say, it suits you, Admiral.”
“Yeah? It’s not too bright?”
“No, it’s - ” Donna looked him up and down. “Perfect.”
He nodded and pulled down his jacket. “Thank you. And by the way, I’m not an admiral these days. Just ‘Fitz’ is fine.”
“Oh. Okay.” Donna wasn’t sure whether she’d ever be able to call the Admiral by his nickname to his face, but she nonetheless felt privileged that he’d asked her to use it.
“Well,” he said seriously. “You know why I’m here.”
Donna sighed, resignedly. She was being haunted. There was really no point in trying to avoid that fact any longer. “Yes.”
“And are you ready to go?”
“Yes.”
“Well come on, then. Touch my sleeve and we’re in business.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
When Donna opened her eyes this time, she and the Admiral - Fitz, she corrected in her head - were standing in another kitchen, large, brightly lit - and extremely messy. A blonde woman was opening the oven door and taking out two trays of cookies which smelled delicious, and two dark-haired children - a boy and a girl, were busily rolling out dough and cutting out shapes - and getting themselves covered with flour in the process.
There were bowls in the sink, bowls on the work surfaces - clearly the kitchen had seen a lot of activity that day, and Donna was reminded suddenly of Christmas Eve at home when she was little, helping her mother to bake sugar cookies, waiting eagerly for them to cool so that she and her sister could decorate them with lots of icing, candies and sprinkles.
The woman closed the oven door and turned with the trays, tipping the cookies onto a rack to cool. “How’s it going? Do you have any more ready yet?”
“I’ve made angels, mommy,” the little girl said, and her brother pulled a face.
“You always make angels.”
“So? You always make cars.”
“I don’t,” he protested indignantly, “and anyway, these aren’t cars, they’re Santa’s sleigh!”
The children’s mother started to put the cut-out dough on the baking trays. “Well, you’ve both done a great job.”
Donna looked at Fitz, half confused, half amused. “Okay - I have absolutely no idea where I am right now. Are you sure we’re in the right place?”
He was clearly trying to suppress the urge to laugh. “Are you questioning my skills as a navigator?”
“God, no,” she said in mock-horror. “I wouldn’t dr- ”
She was cut off by the opening of the kitchen door and turned to see a tall, dark-haired man walk in. Donna frowned in concentration - he looked familiar, yet she couldn’t immediately place him.
“Daddy!” the girl yelled, launching herself at him. “We’re making cookies.”
“So I see.” He kissed his wife. “Something smells good,” and leaned past her towards the cookies she’d just removed from the oven.
“Careful, they’re - ”
“Ow!”
“- hot.”
“You could have told me that before I burned my fingers,” he grumbled good-naturedly, setting his daughter down and turning to ruffle his son’s hair.
The woman flicked at his chest with a tea-towel. “Serves you right for being greedy.”
Donna smiled. They made a nice couple.
The man turned around and Donna got a good look at him for the first time. She turned to Fitz, her brow wrinkling further. “Now I’m even more confused. That’s Congressman Santos. What are we doing here?”
Fitz just raised an eyebrow. “All in good time.”
Donna opened her mouth to insist on an answer to her question, but was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. The congressman left the kitchen to answer it and Donna continued watching the children as they finished putting the dough on the trays and then smiled as their mother shooed them off to get cleaned up. As she began to start tidying up, her husband came back into the kitchen to tell her that their friends had had arrived, and that she’d have to leave all that until later. With a good natured roll of her eyes, she put the rest of the cookies in the oven, wiped her hands and followed him out of the room.
Fitz nodded towards the door. “Go on.”
Donna slipped through the door before it closed - she didn’t relish the idea of passing through any more of them if she could help it - and followed them into a cozy living room, filled with people taking off hats, scarves and coats, and dominated by a huge Christmas tree which was surrounded by boxes and packages.
The children Donna had already seen, plus a few older ones were already gathered around the tree, setting out the packages, pulling garlands, tinsel and all manner of tree decorations out of boxes; Donna saw the little girl who’d been making the angel cookies drape a length of tinsel around her father’s neck and laughed as he tickled her nose with it…
It dawned on her suddenly that she hadn’t stopped smiling since she got here, and that actually, her cheeks were beginning to ache. She felt a movement beside her and glanced up to see Fitz standing next to her.
“You like kids?”
Donna tensed. “I haven’t really - I mean, I - ”
“It wasn’t a trick question, Donna,” Fitz said kindly. “I was just asking if you liked kids.”
“Oh,” Donna flashed him a nervous smile. “Sorry. This whole thing is just so weird, and I… yeah. I like kids.”
He nodded and rocked slightly on his heels, beaming as he surveyed the room. “It makes my heart glad to see this. It’s a wonderful time.”
Donna looked up at him, her smile turning slightly ironic. “God bless us, every one?”
Fitz barked out a laugh and Donna found it impossible to suppress a giggle. “Something like that, I guess.”
She turned back to look at the tree and watched the children as they began to loop tinsel around it and hang ornaments on the branches. “You still haven’t told me why we’re - ”
The doorbell rang again, and Congressman Santos shook off the garland that his daughter had put around his neck before he stood and went into the hall to open it. Donna folded her arms and leaned against the door-frame, letting herself enjoy the scene unfolding before her - a happy family sharing their home with friends at this time of year - surely what the Holidays were all about. And she was feeling nostalgic, too. Her family had always decorated their tree a few days before Christmas, and she remembered the anticipation, the excitement when that day finally arrived - not quite as much as on Christmas Day, of course - but still a longed-for event; and there was food, mountains of it - lasagna, cannoli, and piles of gingerbread cookies, all of it home made and delicious, and plenty of friends and relatives with which to share it all.
In fact, Donna was so lost in her memories, that she’d forgotten to look to see who had been at the door - carol singers, perhaps - until she heard…
“… there wasn’t time to wait for you to get back to Washington.”
No.
It couldn’t be.
She turned around to see Josh walking across the hallway, and found she could do nothing other than stare at him in shock. Well, that and curse herself for the fact that although she wasn’t even here, her pulse had started to beat slightly faster at the sight of him. He looked tired and a little pale, his hair was sticking up at odd angles and wouldn’t have looked out of place on a porcupine, and - she interrupted her train of thought, frowning. Why was he in Texas this close to Christmas?
Donna turned to Fitz, who was still watching the rest of the Santos family and their friends decorating the tree. “What’s he doing here?”
“Why do you think he’s here, Donna?”
“I - don’t know.” She looked across at the two men again, watching as Santos led Josh into another room and closed the door.
“He never said anything about - I mean, I know he was trying to get the Congressman to run again, but it must be something more than that to get him - ” She broke off distractedly; there was something at the back of her mind, something Josh had said just before she’d told him she was leaving.
“Leo thinks I should be wandering the American byways in search of the next president.”
“No...” she breathed incredulously. “Surely he isn’t thinking of… I mean, I had no idea.”
“If you had - would it have made any difference?”
“Any difference to what?” Donna was still looking at the closed door, as if staring at it might enable her to see and hear what was happening on the other side.
“Any difference to your decision to leave.”
“No.” Donna felt herself flush. “Maybe.” She turned to face Fitz, who was looking at her expectantly and threw up her hands. “I don’t know - ” and she looked again at the closed door across the hall. “He’s really thinking of doing it?” she said softly, almost to herself.
“Doing what?”
“Leaving the White House. Running a campaign.”
Fitz shrugged. “Why wouldn’t he? He’s damn good at it, and things haven’t exactly been easy for him lately, have they?”
Donna felt a knot forming in her chest. “No, I guess not. But it’s just… Josh doesn’t - he doesn’t do that. Leave.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s difficult to - ” she looked back towards the door, and then up at Fitz again. “You don’t know him like I do. Josh spends his life worrying that someone he cares about will get hurt and it’ll be his fault. He wants to protect everyone; he wants to fix everything. And he doesn’t leave people - he’s lost people close to him, and it’s his greatest fear that it’ll happen again. He just - ”
Donna felt suddenly as if she’d had the breath knocked from her lungs.
Oh, God.
“Yes,” Fitz said emphatically - and Donna found herself squirming inwardly under the scrutiny of his gaze. “But anyway, you did what you had to do, right? Josh wasn’t interested in your career and he wasn’t prepared to help you, so -”
“No!” Donna protested vehemently. “I mean, yes, but it wasn’t just - ” and then she realized that she really couldn’t explain that her reasons for leaving hadn’t been purely professional … especially when she wasn’t fully prepared to admit that, even to herself.
So instead, she tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. “But he wouldn’t leave the President. I mean, he idolizes him, him and Leo - he wouldn’t just walk out before the end of the administration.”
“That’s true, I guess. But then again…”
“What?”
“Well, the President has less than a year left in office - what is there for Josh at the White House now?”
Donna frowned. “There’s still a lot to do.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know, but Josh - all he’s ever really wanted to do was make people’s lives better and - ”
“He can’t do that by helping to get another good man elected president?”
“Well - yes, I guess…”
“So I repeat the question. What’s left for him? He was passed over for the job that should have been his. All that business over the China Summit, which he worked his ass off pulling together - you told CJ as much. And now - you’ve left him.”
“I left my job!”
Fitz shrugged, off-handedly. “If that’s what you want to think.”
“What is it with you … you spirits and my - ” love life? Donna coughed. “And Josh? Don’t try to tell me he’s thinking about leaving just because I quit.”
“Well, not just because of that, but you made the decision a whole lot easier.”
Donna shook her head quickly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why is it ridiculous?” Fitz eyed her, impassively. “I mean, you said it yourself. He doesn’t leave people - so it strikes me that he’d need a pretty big push.”
“He would.” She said quietly. “But I don’t think it has anything to do with me.”
“Well, I think you’re underestimating your importance to him.” Fitz turned her gently around to face him. “You and I didn’t have a chance to get to know each other all that well, Donna - but I didn’t realize you had such an enormous capacity for self deception,” he finished, gruffly.
Donna found herself opening her mouth to reply - but was unable to think of anything to say in response. She stared up at Fitz for a few seconds, then looked, without really seeing them, at the crowd of friends and family who were still decorating the tree amid much laughter and chatter, her mind a mass of confusion and indecision.
And once that tiny shred of doubt had crept in, it wasted no time in taking root… then shoots were sprouting everywhere and it was impossible to stop them. For the first time in months, she began to second-guess herself, the misgivings she thought she’d cast aside beginning to make themselves heard. She’d denied it to the spirits, and even to herself, but… was she really doing what they’d said?
Had it become so hard to deal with the way she felt - good and bad - about herself and about Josh that she’d decided it was just too hard and that the best way to stop feeling so hurt and confused was simply to stop feeling anything at all?
Well, no. She wasn’t doing that. Not exactly.
But she did have to admit that she’d deliberately stopped herself from remembering the good times they’d shared, all the things about Josh that had made her fall for him in the first place. By concentrating on his faults, on the idea that he was selfishly preventing her from furthering her career, she had thought it would make her decision to leave less hard to bear.
Well, that had been the theory anyway. In reality, although the pain had been dulled, it had still hurt - and it had taken all her strength to retain her composure and walk away that day. But Josh’s refusal to take her at her word had certainly helped to fan the flames of her resentment and to push aside any residual guilt she may have been feeling.
Donna sucked in a breath, dimly aware of Mrs Santos flying past her muttering something about cookies. She looked up to find that Fitz was watching her, his expression one of concern - and was about to ask him where they were going next when the sound of the front door slamming pulled her out of her daydream.
She spun around and took a couple of steps into the hallway, instinctively moving aside as Congressman Santos made his way back into the living room.
But Josh had gone.
She sagged against the wall and covered her face with her hands as words she’d spoken just days before came floating back to her mind.
“… while working for you is an honor and a privilege…”
Had she really said that?
Eight years.
A bullet.
A diary.
A car bomb… and it was all reduced to empty words and trite phrases?
“Donna?” Fitz’s voice, low and gentle pulled her back to herself and she looked up questioningly.
He held out his arm. “It’s time to go.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Donna was standing amid the twinkling lights of the bullpen once again, but now it was empty. She looked around, but Admiral Fitzwallace was nowhere to be seen - and then noticed Josh walking towards her, reading from the folder he held in one hand whilst gulping from the cup of coffee he held with the other. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a sweater, and from the lack of other staff and activity, Donna guessed it to be Christmas Day. Josh usually worked; he didn’t celebrate and in any case, his only family, his mother, lived too far away for him to visit for just the day. He’d usually taken a couple of days off in early January instead - or had attempted to, although Donna knew he hadn’t even been able to do that for the last couple of years.
She watched him walk into his office, still reading, and moved to stand in the doorway, propping herself up against the frame with her arms folded as she’d done so many times before.
Josh lowered the papers he was looking at, and stopped just to one side of his desk, reaching for a book on the shelf - when he stopped. Instead, he picked up a photograph that had been there for ages, a photo of himself and Donna which she recalled had been taken during their first year in office. In it, they were standing by her cubicle, looking down and reading something from a folder she was holding out to him; the sort of thing they did a hundred times a day - yet for some reason she could no longer remember, she’d dug out a simple frame and put the picture on his shelf. Josh hadn’t commented at the time - he’d just watched her put it there with an amused grin on his face and gone back to work, and over the years, Donna had wondered if he even knew it was there… but in all that time it had never been moved or put away.
Josh stood there for a few seconds, just looking at the picture - then he put it back abruptly, picked out the book he wanted and sat down behind his desk.
Donna forgot to wonder why she was here, instead taking advantage of the fact that she could look at him without having to worry about who might see her. She watched as he went back to reading the file, his chin propped on his hand - even as she told herself that a concentrated bout of Josh-watching wasn’t exactly going to help with her plan to get over him. But she did it anyway, insisting to herself that this was the last time and that, in any case, she wasn’t really here, so it couldn’t really hurt. Josh hunched over and looked at something in the file, then picked up the book and started thumbing through it. He must have found what he wanted, because he laid the book open on the desk, and had just pulled himself over to his computer when the phone rang. He scooted back and punched the speakerphone button.
“Josh Lyman.”
“Did you know it’s possible for a couple of two-and-a-half-year-olds to eat more pie than either of their parents?”
Josh chuckled softly. “I didn’t, but given they’re your kids, I can’t say I’m all that surprised.”
“Well. Thanks.”
Josh swung his feet up onto the desk. “So, how’s it going?”
Donna heard Toby sigh at the other end of the line. “It’s a madhouse. Huck has a new Spiderman outfit and while he’s not actually climbing the walls, he’s come pretty close a few times.”
Josh smiled. “And Molly?”
“She’s trying to dismantle a doll’s house right now.”
“Industrious.”
“Her mother doesn’t think so.”
“Ah.” Josh leaned back in his chair. “Hey, say ‘Hi’ to Andy for me, okay? And if you can bring yourself to wish her a Merry Christmas, you could do that too.”
“And you insist you’re not a Presbyterian.”
Josh sniffed. “Whatever - listen, you coming in later?”
“Yeah.” There was a pause, then Toby asked, “You going to be in all day?”
“Probably. It’s quiet and there’s stuff I need to catch up on, so - ”
“Josh?”
“Hm?”
“Have you called her yet?”
Josh jerked himself upright, his eyes opening wide with surprise. “What? No, I - ”
“Call her.”
He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t, Toby,” he said softly.
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
“Well, don’t you think you should at least tell her why?”
Josh grinned, weakly. “What are you now, a yenta?”
“No. Just someone who, you know, gives a damn. About her. Not you.”
“I got that.”
“Josh - ”
“Toby,” Josh began, scratching the back of his head. “It’s just … complicated. Anyway, she’s the one who quit without so much as a goodbye. If she wants to speak to me, she knows where I am.”
“Maybe. But you should call her.”
“Toby,” he said again, warningly.
There was a short silence before Toby spoke again. “Okay. So I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
Josh ended the call and sat, staring at the phone for a few seconds before he pulled himself back over to his computer and started typing.
Donna was unable to move from her vantage point in the doorway, her astonishment at what she’d just heard keeping her rooted to the spot. Even Toby - Toby - seemed to think that Josh was … had a - a thing for her. And earlier, Noah had shown her that Leo seemed to believe that, too.
She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts, that Donna hadn’t noticed Josh get up from his desk and walk towards her. Before she could stand aside, he’d moved through the open door, passing so close to her that, had she really been standing there, his body would have brushed against hers. Donna could have sworn she could feel his warmth, smell his familiar scent as he passed her - then he stopped suddenly on the other side of the doorway and turned back, a puzzled expression on his face. Donna forgot to breathe - she wasn’t here; he couldn’t see her, and yet she had the strongest feeling, just for a second, that he was looking directly at her.
And then Josh shook his head, his expression cleared and he turned slowly away, Donna moving to watch him as he walked to the other end of the bullpen and out through the swinging doors.
Whereas before, Donna hadn’t been able to move, now she was unable to keep still. She walked into Josh’s office, and looked, without really seeing it, at the photo of the two of them on the shelf, her head still spinning with the possibilities she’d finally begun to allow herself to consider.
What if they were right? Leo, Toby, the spirits she’d met so far - they seemed to think that not only was Josh in love with her, but that he had been so for some time. And yet, how could it be true? Sure, he’d been kind to her, at times he’d been incredibly sweet to her - more than that, really - but … he loved her? He was in love with her?
Surely she’d have seen something, noticed something in his behavior, his demeanor; she’d have seen some clue as to -
“Yeah. I’m still here…”
The memory of his face, the one she’d wanted more than anything on earth to see as she struggled to break through the thick, drug-induced fog in her head in the hospital now rose to the surface of her mind. The look in his eyes as he’d spoken those words, the way he’d looked at her then, and in the days that followed, his attentiveness, his concern - she’d ruthlessly packed away all those memories, putting them down to a mixture of wishful thinking and faulty recollection.
But now, she forced herself to remember, and again, asked herself honestly the question she could no longer avoid.
What if the spirits were right? And if they were, then…oh, God, what had she done? She began to twist her hands together absently as she paced the floor of the office. She’d pushed him away. She’d pushed him away and tried to wound him deliberately, because she wanted him to be hurting as much as she was hurting inside. Because she’d been so hurt and humiliated by what CJ had said, because she’d finally seen how pathetic it was to have devoted herself for years to someone who she was certain was never going to see her as anything other than a friend and colleague - she’d pushed him away and finally, had committed the cardinal sin as far as Josh was concerned.
She’d left.
And she hadn’t even said goodbye.
Feeling weary and a little ashamed, Donna walked slowly out into the bullpen, to find Admiral sitting at her old desk.
She walked over to the cubicle, perched herself on the edge of the desk in front of him and folded her arms. “I think I’ve seen enough,” she said, quietly. “Can you take me home?”
Fitz turned to face her and Donna noticed for the first time that he looked much older and more tired then he had before. His face wore a few more lines, and the energy he’d been radiating since they’d met had greatly diminished, almost as though a light inside of him had dimmed.
“I’m sorry, Donna,” he said gently, “but you know you can’t go home yet. You’ve got one more visitor to see.”
She rubbed a hand across her forehead. “But surely,” she protested,” I don’t need them now. I know what I’ve done and I promise I’ll try to - ” but even as she spoke, she knew her remonstrations were useless. “Okay,” she sighed. “What’s next?”
Fitz pulled himself up out of the chair, stiffly. “This is where I leave you, Donna,” he said softly. “My time here is short, and it’s coming to an end.”
He took her hand between both of his and looked at her intently. “But whatever happens next, just remember - listen. Learn. And more importantly - let yourself feel.”
Donna nodded solemnly. “I will. I promise.”
Fitz nodded. “Goodbye, Donna.”
She found tears welling up in her eyes and gave his hand a squeeze, thankful to have a chance to do something that she’d been denied before. “Goodbye, Admiral. And thank you.”
Fitz turned and walked away, his red robe billowing along behind him as he walked among the empty desks; Donna kept her eyes on him, watching his figure fade until finally it disappeared altogether.
She sighed and looked around. What was she supposed to do now?
Feeling more than a little silly, she closed her eyes and waited.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Part Four.
The photo Josh looks at actually does exist and sits on the bookshelf in his office! Here - with many thanks to coloneljack for the cap!
Part Two.
Originally posted between 17 and 21 December 2007
Last time…
“I’m sorry,” she sniffed, “it’s just… Josh has gone through a lot, you know? He’s lost so much… and now… “ her voice was a soft murmur, “it’s almost as though he’s losing himself, and I can’t bear it.”
Donna was stunned at her own words - how could she have forgotten..? What she’d said about Josh… Noah had as good as said the same thing about her. Was this what he’d meant - was she losing herself?
She turned to Noah, fighting hard to force back the encroaching tears.
“Please,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper, “no more. Take me back. Please. Please…”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Keeping the Spirit - Part Three
Donna sat bolt upright, her breath catching on a sob as she struggled to wakefulness and tried to work out where she was.
Her ragged breathing began to slow as her eyes adjusted to the gloom and she realized that she was back in her living room, sitting on her sofa. The television was off, and in the soft glow emitting from the lights on the Christmas tree, she could see from the clock on the mantelpiece that it was just past two am.
Just past..?
She rubbed her eyes and swung her legs to the floor. Wasn’t her second - visitor - due? Or maybe the Spirit of Christmas Past had done the trick? Yes, that was it - he’d reminded her that she needed to remember the good times as well as the bad; and really, there had been many more of the former than she’d been allowing herself to remember, hadn’t there?
Yes, so now, if she could just -
She was startled by a noise coming from the direction of the Christmas tree, and whipped around to see a couple of the branches swaying - and a figure sitting in the chair next to it, dressed in red velvet with black boots so shiny that she could see the tree lights reflected in them.
Donna dropped her head into her hands. So this nightmare wasn’t over yet.
The figure spoke. “Normally, I’d be saying ‘Come in and know me better man’ - but seeing that you’re already in - ”
She lifted her head slowly, eyes wide with astonishment, and looked at her guest properly for the first time.
“Admiral Fitzwallace?”
“Hello, Donna,” he smiled; and stood, positively dwarfing her tree - hell, making the room itself look smaller - then he walked over to stand in front of the mantelpiece, hands clasped behind his back.
Donna looked up at him - and to her surprise, found that she felt pleased to see him. She’d been so weighed down with guilt after the bombing; Fitz had been a family man, a highly respected and much decorated military officer, an experienced and trusted advisor - yet she’d survived and he hadn’t. Donna Moss, unremarkable spinster and secretary - had lived when this extraordinary man had died. But now, somehow, none of that mattered. He looked so full of life, so content; his smile was infectious, just as she remembered it, and it was impossible to feel anything but happiness in his presence.
“So…” she began, “I guess you must be the Spirit of Christmas Present?”
He nodded. “Guess I am.”
Donna stood up, noting with vague interest that the existence of a ghost in her living room was no longer freaking her out - and found she couldn’t help the grin which was spreading across her face. “Nice outfit.”
His smile broadened and he spread his arms wide. “I’ve been in uniform all my adult life - this seemed like a natural progression for me.”
“I have to say, it suits you, Admiral.”
“Yeah? It’s not too bright?”
“No, it’s - ” Donna looked him up and down. “Perfect.”
He nodded and pulled down his jacket. “Thank you. And by the way, I’m not an admiral these days. Just ‘Fitz’ is fine.”
“Oh. Okay.” Donna wasn’t sure whether she’d ever be able to call the Admiral by his nickname to his face, but she nonetheless felt privileged that he’d asked her to use it.
“Well,” he said seriously. “You know why I’m here.”
Donna sighed, resignedly. She was being haunted. There was really no point in trying to avoid that fact any longer. “Yes.”
“And are you ready to go?”
“Yes.”
“Well come on, then. Touch my sleeve and we’re in business.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
When Donna opened her eyes this time, she and the Admiral - Fitz, she corrected in her head - were standing in another kitchen, large, brightly lit - and extremely messy. A blonde woman was opening the oven door and taking out two trays of cookies which smelled delicious, and two dark-haired children - a boy and a girl, were busily rolling out dough and cutting out shapes - and getting themselves covered with flour in the process.
There were bowls in the sink, bowls on the work surfaces - clearly the kitchen had seen a lot of activity that day, and Donna was reminded suddenly of Christmas Eve at home when she was little, helping her mother to bake sugar cookies, waiting eagerly for them to cool so that she and her sister could decorate them with lots of icing, candies and sprinkles.
The woman closed the oven door and turned with the trays, tipping the cookies onto a rack to cool. “How’s it going? Do you have any more ready yet?”
“I’ve made angels, mommy,” the little girl said, and her brother pulled a face.
“You always make angels.”
“So? You always make cars.”
“I don’t,” he protested indignantly, “and anyway, these aren’t cars, they’re Santa’s sleigh!”
The children’s mother started to put the cut-out dough on the baking trays. “Well, you’ve both done a great job.”
Donna looked at Fitz, half confused, half amused. “Okay - I have absolutely no idea where I am right now. Are you sure we’re in the right place?”
He was clearly trying to suppress the urge to laugh. “Are you questioning my skills as a navigator?”
“God, no,” she said in mock-horror. “I wouldn’t dr- ”
She was cut off by the opening of the kitchen door and turned to see a tall, dark-haired man walk in. Donna frowned in concentration - he looked familiar, yet she couldn’t immediately place him.
“Daddy!” the girl yelled, launching herself at him. “We’re making cookies.”
“So I see.” He kissed his wife. “Something smells good,” and leaned past her towards the cookies she’d just removed from the oven.
“Careful, they’re - ”
“Ow!”
“- hot.”
“You could have told me that before I burned my fingers,” he grumbled good-naturedly, setting his daughter down and turning to ruffle his son’s hair.
The woman flicked at his chest with a tea-towel. “Serves you right for being greedy.”
Donna smiled. They made a nice couple.
The man turned around and Donna got a good look at him for the first time. She turned to Fitz, her brow wrinkling further. “Now I’m even more confused. That’s Congressman Santos. What are we doing here?”
Fitz just raised an eyebrow. “All in good time.”
Donna opened her mouth to insist on an answer to her question, but was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. The congressman left the kitchen to answer it and Donna continued watching the children as they finished putting the dough on the trays and then smiled as their mother shooed them off to get cleaned up. As she began to start tidying up, her husband came back into the kitchen to tell her that their friends had had arrived, and that she’d have to leave all that until later. With a good natured roll of her eyes, she put the rest of the cookies in the oven, wiped her hands and followed him out of the room.
Fitz nodded towards the door. “Go on.”
Donna slipped through the door before it closed - she didn’t relish the idea of passing through any more of them if she could help it - and followed them into a cozy living room, filled with people taking off hats, scarves and coats, and dominated by a huge Christmas tree which was surrounded by boxes and packages.
The children Donna had already seen, plus a few older ones were already gathered around the tree, setting out the packages, pulling garlands, tinsel and all manner of tree decorations out of boxes; Donna saw the little girl who’d been making the angel cookies drape a length of tinsel around her father’s neck and laughed as he tickled her nose with it…
It dawned on her suddenly that she hadn’t stopped smiling since she got here, and that actually, her cheeks were beginning to ache. She felt a movement beside her and glanced up to see Fitz standing next to her.
“You like kids?”
Donna tensed. “I haven’t really - I mean, I - ”
“It wasn’t a trick question, Donna,” Fitz said kindly. “I was just asking if you liked kids.”
“Oh,” Donna flashed him a nervous smile. “Sorry. This whole thing is just so weird, and I… yeah. I like kids.”
He nodded and rocked slightly on his heels, beaming as he surveyed the room. “It makes my heart glad to see this. It’s a wonderful time.”
Donna looked up at him, her smile turning slightly ironic. “God bless us, every one?”
Fitz barked out a laugh and Donna found it impossible to suppress a giggle. “Something like that, I guess.”
She turned back to look at the tree and watched the children as they began to loop tinsel around it and hang ornaments on the branches. “You still haven’t told me why we’re - ”
The doorbell rang again, and Congressman Santos shook off the garland that his daughter had put around his neck before he stood and went into the hall to open it. Donna folded her arms and leaned against the door-frame, letting herself enjoy the scene unfolding before her - a happy family sharing their home with friends at this time of year - surely what the Holidays were all about. And she was feeling nostalgic, too. Her family had always decorated their tree a few days before Christmas, and she remembered the anticipation, the excitement when that day finally arrived - not quite as much as on Christmas Day, of course - but still a longed-for event; and there was food, mountains of it - lasagna, cannoli, and piles of gingerbread cookies, all of it home made and delicious, and plenty of friends and relatives with which to share it all.
In fact, Donna was so lost in her memories, that she’d forgotten to look to see who had been at the door - carol singers, perhaps - until she heard…
“… there wasn’t time to wait for you to get back to Washington.”
No.
It couldn’t be.
She turned around to see Josh walking across the hallway, and found she could do nothing other than stare at him in shock. Well, that and curse herself for the fact that although she wasn’t even here, her pulse had started to beat slightly faster at the sight of him. He looked tired and a little pale, his hair was sticking up at odd angles and wouldn’t have looked out of place on a porcupine, and - she interrupted her train of thought, frowning. Why was he in Texas this close to Christmas?
Donna turned to Fitz, who was still watching the rest of the Santos family and their friends decorating the tree. “What’s he doing here?”
“Why do you think he’s here, Donna?”
“I - don’t know.” She looked across at the two men again, watching as Santos led Josh into another room and closed the door.
“He never said anything about - I mean, I know he was trying to get the Congressman to run again, but it must be something more than that to get him - ” She broke off distractedly; there was something at the back of her mind, something Josh had said just before she’d told him she was leaving.
“Leo thinks I should be wandering the American byways in search of the next president.”
“No...” she breathed incredulously. “Surely he isn’t thinking of… I mean, I had no idea.”
“If you had - would it have made any difference?”
“Any difference to what?” Donna was still looking at the closed door, as if staring at it might enable her to see and hear what was happening on the other side.
“Any difference to your decision to leave.”
“No.” Donna felt herself flush. “Maybe.” She turned to face Fitz, who was looking at her expectantly and threw up her hands. “I don’t know - ” and she looked again at the closed door across the hall. “He’s really thinking of doing it?” she said softly, almost to herself.
“Doing what?”
“Leaving the White House. Running a campaign.”
Fitz shrugged. “Why wouldn’t he? He’s damn good at it, and things haven’t exactly been easy for him lately, have they?”
Donna felt a knot forming in her chest. “No, I guess not. But it’s just… Josh doesn’t - he doesn’t do that. Leave.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s difficult to - ” she looked back towards the door, and then up at Fitz again. “You don’t know him like I do. Josh spends his life worrying that someone he cares about will get hurt and it’ll be his fault. He wants to protect everyone; he wants to fix everything. And he doesn’t leave people - he’s lost people close to him, and it’s his greatest fear that it’ll happen again. He just - ”
Donna felt suddenly as if she’d had the breath knocked from her lungs.
Oh, God.
“Yes,” Fitz said emphatically - and Donna found herself squirming inwardly under the scrutiny of his gaze. “But anyway, you did what you had to do, right? Josh wasn’t interested in your career and he wasn’t prepared to help you, so -”
“No!” Donna protested vehemently. “I mean, yes, but it wasn’t just - ” and then she realized that she really couldn’t explain that her reasons for leaving hadn’t been purely professional … especially when she wasn’t fully prepared to admit that, even to herself.
So instead, she tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. “But he wouldn’t leave the President. I mean, he idolizes him, him and Leo - he wouldn’t just walk out before the end of the administration.”
“That’s true, I guess. But then again…”
“What?”
“Well, the President has less than a year left in office - what is there for Josh at the White House now?”
Donna frowned. “There’s still a lot to do.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know, but Josh - all he’s ever really wanted to do was make people’s lives better and - ”
“He can’t do that by helping to get another good man elected president?”
“Well - yes, I guess…”
“So I repeat the question. What’s left for him? He was passed over for the job that should have been his. All that business over the China Summit, which he worked his ass off pulling together - you told CJ as much. And now - you’ve left him.”
“I left my job!”
Fitz shrugged, off-handedly. “If that’s what you want to think.”
“What is it with you … you spirits and my - ” love life? Donna coughed. “And Josh? Don’t try to tell me he’s thinking about leaving just because I quit.”
“Well, not just because of that, but you made the decision a whole lot easier.”
Donna shook her head quickly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why is it ridiculous?” Fitz eyed her, impassively. “I mean, you said it yourself. He doesn’t leave people - so it strikes me that he’d need a pretty big push.”
“He would.” She said quietly. “But I don’t think it has anything to do with me.”
“Well, I think you’re underestimating your importance to him.” Fitz turned her gently around to face him. “You and I didn’t have a chance to get to know each other all that well, Donna - but I didn’t realize you had such an enormous capacity for self deception,” he finished, gruffly.
Donna found herself opening her mouth to reply - but was unable to think of anything to say in response. She stared up at Fitz for a few seconds, then looked, without really seeing them, at the crowd of friends and family who were still decorating the tree amid much laughter and chatter, her mind a mass of confusion and indecision.
And once that tiny shred of doubt had crept in, it wasted no time in taking root… then shoots were sprouting everywhere and it was impossible to stop them. For the first time in months, she began to second-guess herself, the misgivings she thought she’d cast aside beginning to make themselves heard. She’d denied it to the spirits, and even to herself, but… was she really doing what they’d said?
Had it become so hard to deal with the way she felt - good and bad - about herself and about Josh that she’d decided it was just too hard and that the best way to stop feeling so hurt and confused was simply to stop feeling anything at all?
Well, no. She wasn’t doing that. Not exactly.
But she did have to admit that she’d deliberately stopped herself from remembering the good times they’d shared, all the things about Josh that had made her fall for him in the first place. By concentrating on his faults, on the idea that he was selfishly preventing her from furthering her career, she had thought it would make her decision to leave less hard to bear.
Well, that had been the theory anyway. In reality, although the pain had been dulled, it had still hurt - and it had taken all her strength to retain her composure and walk away that day. But Josh’s refusal to take her at her word had certainly helped to fan the flames of her resentment and to push aside any residual guilt she may have been feeling.
Donna sucked in a breath, dimly aware of Mrs Santos flying past her muttering something about cookies. She looked up to find that Fitz was watching her, his expression one of concern - and was about to ask him where they were going next when the sound of the front door slamming pulled her out of her daydream.
She spun around and took a couple of steps into the hallway, instinctively moving aside as Congressman Santos made his way back into the living room.
But Josh had gone.
She sagged against the wall and covered her face with her hands as words she’d spoken just days before came floating back to her mind.
“… while working for you is an honor and a privilege…”
Had she really said that?
Eight years.
A bullet.
A diary.
A car bomb… and it was all reduced to empty words and trite phrases?
“Donna?” Fitz’s voice, low and gentle pulled her back to herself and she looked up questioningly.
He held out his arm. “It’s time to go.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Donna was standing amid the twinkling lights of the bullpen once again, but now it was empty. She looked around, but Admiral Fitzwallace was nowhere to be seen - and then noticed Josh walking towards her, reading from the folder he held in one hand whilst gulping from the cup of coffee he held with the other. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a sweater, and from the lack of other staff and activity, Donna guessed it to be Christmas Day. Josh usually worked; he didn’t celebrate and in any case, his only family, his mother, lived too far away for him to visit for just the day. He’d usually taken a couple of days off in early January instead - or had attempted to, although Donna knew he hadn’t even been able to do that for the last couple of years.
She watched him walk into his office, still reading, and moved to stand in the doorway, propping herself up against the frame with her arms folded as she’d done so many times before.
Josh lowered the papers he was looking at, and stopped just to one side of his desk, reaching for a book on the shelf - when he stopped. Instead, he picked up a photograph that had been there for ages, a photo of himself and Donna which she recalled had been taken during their first year in office. In it, they were standing by her cubicle, looking down and reading something from a folder she was holding out to him; the sort of thing they did a hundred times a day - yet for some reason she could no longer remember, she’d dug out a simple frame and put the picture on his shelf. Josh hadn’t commented at the time - he’d just watched her put it there with an amused grin on his face and gone back to work, and over the years, Donna had wondered if he even knew it was there… but in all that time it had never been moved or put away.
Josh stood there for a few seconds, just looking at the picture - then he put it back abruptly, picked out the book he wanted and sat down behind his desk.
Donna forgot to wonder why she was here, instead taking advantage of the fact that she could look at him without having to worry about who might see her. She watched as he went back to reading the file, his chin propped on his hand - even as she told herself that a concentrated bout of Josh-watching wasn’t exactly going to help with her plan to get over him. But she did it anyway, insisting to herself that this was the last time and that, in any case, she wasn’t really here, so it couldn’t really hurt. Josh hunched over and looked at something in the file, then picked up the book and started thumbing through it. He must have found what he wanted, because he laid the book open on the desk, and had just pulled himself over to his computer when the phone rang. He scooted back and punched the speakerphone button.
“Josh Lyman.”
“Did you know it’s possible for a couple of two-and-a-half-year-olds to eat more pie than either of their parents?”
Josh chuckled softly. “I didn’t, but given they’re your kids, I can’t say I’m all that surprised.”
“Well. Thanks.”
Josh swung his feet up onto the desk. “So, how’s it going?”
Donna heard Toby sigh at the other end of the line. “It’s a madhouse. Huck has a new Spiderman outfit and while he’s not actually climbing the walls, he’s come pretty close a few times.”
Josh smiled. “And Molly?”
“She’s trying to dismantle a doll’s house right now.”
“Industrious.”
“Her mother doesn’t think so.”
“Ah.” Josh leaned back in his chair. “Hey, say ‘Hi’ to Andy for me, okay? And if you can bring yourself to wish her a Merry Christmas, you could do that too.”
“And you insist you’re not a Presbyterian.”
Josh sniffed. “Whatever - listen, you coming in later?”
“Yeah.” There was a pause, then Toby asked, “You going to be in all day?”
“Probably. It’s quiet and there’s stuff I need to catch up on, so - ”
“Josh?”
“Hm?”
“Have you called her yet?”
Josh jerked himself upright, his eyes opening wide with surprise. “What? No, I - ”
“Call her.”
He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t, Toby,” he said softly.
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
“Well, don’t you think you should at least tell her why?”
Josh grinned, weakly. “What are you now, a yenta?”
“No. Just someone who, you know, gives a damn. About her. Not you.”
“I got that.”
“Josh - ”
“Toby,” Josh began, scratching the back of his head. “It’s just … complicated. Anyway, she’s the one who quit without so much as a goodbye. If she wants to speak to me, she knows where I am.”
“Maybe. But you should call her.”
“Toby,” he said again, warningly.
There was a short silence before Toby spoke again. “Okay. So I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
Josh ended the call and sat, staring at the phone for a few seconds before he pulled himself back over to his computer and started typing.
Donna was unable to move from her vantage point in the doorway, her astonishment at what she’d just heard keeping her rooted to the spot. Even Toby - Toby - seemed to think that Josh was … had a - a thing for her. And earlier, Noah had shown her that Leo seemed to believe that, too.
She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts, that Donna hadn’t noticed Josh get up from his desk and walk towards her. Before she could stand aside, he’d moved through the open door, passing so close to her that, had she really been standing there, his body would have brushed against hers. Donna could have sworn she could feel his warmth, smell his familiar scent as he passed her - then he stopped suddenly on the other side of the doorway and turned back, a puzzled expression on his face. Donna forgot to breathe - she wasn’t here; he couldn’t see her, and yet she had the strongest feeling, just for a second, that he was looking directly at her.
And then Josh shook his head, his expression cleared and he turned slowly away, Donna moving to watch him as he walked to the other end of the bullpen and out through the swinging doors.
Whereas before, Donna hadn’t been able to move, now she was unable to keep still. She walked into Josh’s office, and looked, without really seeing it, at the photo of the two of them on the shelf, her head still spinning with the possibilities she’d finally begun to allow herself to consider.
What if they were right? Leo, Toby, the spirits she’d met so far - they seemed to think that not only was Josh in love with her, but that he had been so for some time. And yet, how could it be true? Sure, he’d been kind to her, at times he’d been incredibly sweet to her - more than that, really - but … he loved her? He was in love with her?
Surely she’d have seen something, noticed something in his behavior, his demeanor; she’d have seen some clue as to -
“Yeah. I’m still here…”
The memory of his face, the one she’d wanted more than anything on earth to see as she struggled to break through the thick, drug-induced fog in her head in the hospital now rose to the surface of her mind. The look in his eyes as he’d spoken those words, the way he’d looked at her then, and in the days that followed, his attentiveness, his concern - she’d ruthlessly packed away all those memories, putting them down to a mixture of wishful thinking and faulty recollection.
But now, she forced herself to remember, and again, asked herself honestly the question she could no longer avoid.
What if the spirits were right? And if they were, then…oh, God, what had she done? She began to twist her hands together absently as she paced the floor of the office. She’d pushed him away. She’d pushed him away and tried to wound him deliberately, because she wanted him to be hurting as much as she was hurting inside. Because she’d been so hurt and humiliated by what CJ had said, because she’d finally seen how pathetic it was to have devoted herself for years to someone who she was certain was never going to see her as anything other than a friend and colleague - she’d pushed him away and finally, had committed the cardinal sin as far as Josh was concerned.
She’d left.
And she hadn’t even said goodbye.
Feeling weary and a little ashamed, Donna walked slowly out into the bullpen, to find Admiral sitting at her old desk.
She walked over to the cubicle, perched herself on the edge of the desk in front of him and folded her arms. “I think I’ve seen enough,” she said, quietly. “Can you take me home?”
Fitz turned to face her and Donna noticed for the first time that he looked much older and more tired then he had before. His face wore a few more lines, and the energy he’d been radiating since they’d met had greatly diminished, almost as though a light inside of him had dimmed.
“I’m sorry, Donna,” he said gently, “but you know you can’t go home yet. You’ve got one more visitor to see.”
She rubbed a hand across her forehead. “But surely,” she protested,” I don’t need them now. I know what I’ve done and I promise I’ll try to - ” but even as she spoke, she knew her remonstrations were useless. “Okay,” she sighed. “What’s next?”
Fitz pulled himself up out of the chair, stiffly. “This is where I leave you, Donna,” he said softly. “My time here is short, and it’s coming to an end.”
He took her hand between both of his and looked at her intently. “But whatever happens next, just remember - listen. Learn. And more importantly - let yourself feel.”
Donna nodded solemnly. “I will. I promise.”
Fitz nodded. “Goodbye, Donna.”
She found tears welling up in her eyes and gave his hand a squeeze, thankful to have a chance to do something that she’d been denied before. “Goodbye, Admiral. And thank you.”
Fitz turned and walked away, his red robe billowing along behind him as he walked among the empty desks; Donna kept her eyes on him, watching his figure fade until finally it disappeared altogether.
She sighed and looked around. What was she supposed to do now?
Feeling more than a little silly, she closed her eyes and waited.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Part Four.
The photo Josh looks at actually does exist and sits on the bookshelf in his office! Here - with many thanks to coloneljack for the cap!
