This took so LONG ahaha. Anyways, I'm pretty fond of this chapter, so treat it nicely please. Special shoutout to Aaron and also to that one reviewer who suggested Josh and Sam went to a boarding school because I sort of took that idea and ran with it.

"So, where to?"

"You're asking me?" Donna smiles as she buckles her seatbelt. "I have no idea what there is to do around here."

Sam shakes his head in mock exasperation as he begins to back the rental car out of the driveway, "So much to show you, and so little time."

"You can take me wherever," Donna replies, throwing her head back against the headrest with a sigh. "Connecticut's not even that big. We could probably hit all the hot spots and be back before dinner."

Sam smiles lightheartedly at her teasing, "Au contraire, Mademoiselle! How little you know about the great state of Connecticut. It's packed to the brim with art, history, fine dining, and wealthy white men in fancy homes!"

Donna laughs, and Sam continues, "There aren't hours enough in the day to see it all. I suppose I'll just have to give you the highlights."

They lapse into a newfound comfortable silent after this, having only a brief conversation over radio stations and music tastes a few moments later, which leads to a revelation in their shared interest of Broadway soundtracks.

Sam takes this time to construct in his head the best path through the city to get Donna to all his favorite Connecticut hotspots before 6:00, at which point Ruth and Josh are expected to return from the funeral home with fixed arrangements for the memorial service the following day. They're allowed this day of reprieve and planning because of the fact that it's Saturday, and Jews can't be buried on the Sabbath. Otherwise, they'd have had the ceremony early this morning, which was already outside the customary twenty-four hour period of time between a person's passing and their burial, but which Ruth had bypassed in order to allow time for traveling relatives to be able to attend on such short notice. She and Josh were taking care of all the legal and familial repercussions that came with an unexpected death and had insisted Sam and Donna take the day to go sightseeing and enjoy their brief vacation from the campaign.

Sam had been reluctant at first, having woken with a knot in his stomach and the realization that the man who'd been like a second father to him for so many years was truly gone. In all the chaos of the day before and the focus on Ruth and Josh's needs, he hadn't really given much thought to his own feelings, but the second he opened his eyes to see the long-ago familiar surroundings of his room in the Lyman house, the reason for his visit became all too clear and all too real. He'd been inclined to sit around the house and reminisce gloomily while mourning for Noah in a way he would never allow himself to do in front of his best friend, but there was also the issue of Donna. For a brief moment, Sam wondered if encouraging her to come along had been a mistake, but a few seconds later she was arguing with Josh over his outfit, and Sam reminded himself that if nothing else, her presence was a welcome distraction for them all. And so he ended up caving and agreeing to give Donna a tour of the city he had called home for four very crucial years of his life.

. . . . .

"You really went to school here?" Donna asks, eyes wide as she takes in her surroundings.

"Yup," Sam replies proudly. "All four years of high school."

"It's…it's a castle."

Sam chuckles, shutting the car door behind him and moving around to her side, "Not quite, though perhaps at times it might've seemed as though the teachers here fancied themselves British monarchs."

"Your parents have got to be loaded," she continues as they walk towards the building. "I mean, I knew you guys both came from good money, but there's no way tuition here costs anything less than a fortune."

Sam shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs, "They probably have less money than you think they do. My being an only child sort of gave them more freedom to spoil me, and well, only the best of the best was acceptable. That's why I got shipped across the country for almost half a decade."

"I didn't know you were an only child," she comments lightly. "Not that I really assumed you had siblings, because you've never talked about any. Honestly, I really never gave it much thought. In fact, I don't really know that much about you at all. You and I don't chat very often, do we?"

"Not exactly. Josh likes to monopolize your time."

"That which he does," she agrees in a tone that suggests exasperation, but which Sam knows to come from fondness as well. "I like talking to you though. You're a welcome reprieve from Josh's chaos. We should find more time to catch up when we get back."

Sam smiles at her, "I'd like that very much, Donna Moss. You're turning out to be an interesting acquaintance, and one I'd appreciate having on my side. You know, in case Josh ever becomes too much to handle, we've got to team up, you and me. We're probably two of the only people who know how best to reign him in."

"True. Though, I don't know. C.J. seems like she's starting to get the hang of it."

"C.J. sort of has her own way of handling everyone."

"She does, indeed," Donna smiles. "So, tell me more about your family. I've heard about California, but I want to know about the Seaborns."

"That," Sam says, "is probably not as interesting of a conversation topic as you would expect."

"No?"

"I love my parents and everything, but they're pretty bland people. You wonder why I don't talk about them so much, but it's really because there's not all the much to talk about."

"I doubt that," she argues.

"I think it'd be much more exciting to hear about the Moss clan," Sam urges her. "You grow up in a long chain of dairy farmers?"

"Nope. Just Republicans."

Sam pulls a face at that, "Okay, I retract my previous statement. I don't need to know about your family. I'll just keep a nice professional distance."

Donna smiles but is cut off from responding to this by Sam's cell ringing. He pulls it out and gives her an apologetic look.

"I should take this," he tells her. "It could be Leo."

She waves him off noncommittally, and he steps to the side to answer.

"This is Sam."

. . . . .

"This is Sam."

"Are you going to answer the phone like that every time?"

Sam rolls his eyes, even though he knows Josh can't see him, "It's a standard greeting from a cell phone, Josh."

"Yeah, well, I don't like feeling like I'm on a business call every time my best friend answers the phone."

"Whatever. You need something?"

"Yeah, actually," Josh hedges a bit. "You know my mom's birthday is next weekend?"

"I've been in New York for three years, not on another planet. I know when your mother's birthday is."

"Anyways," Josh mutters. "It's her sixtieth, you know, so my dad's trying to plan a whole thing, and I'm going up there for a couple of days."

"That's good," says Sam—because it is good. Josh has started to practically live and breathe his job, and Sam has been on the other end of plenty of phone conversations with Ruth complaining that he doesn't visit or call as often as he should, so the fact that he's going to Connecticut for her birthday to spend time with her is good. Why he's choosing to share this with Sam, though, is sort of beyond his comprehension. Not that Josh has ever really needed an excuse to act oddly, but they haven't talked in probably several weeks. It's strange that he'd pick now to strike up a conversation about his mother's birthday without a true purpose. "Do you need help with her gift?"

"Sort of…"

"Well, tough," Sam admonishes, unable to keep from shaking his head. "I already know what I'm getting her, and I haven't bought it yet, so I'm not telling you just so you can steal my idea."

"I wouldn't steal your idea!" Josh argues indignantly. "I don't do that."

"Josh."

"Okay, I've been known to possibly borrow your ideas in the past, but only when it was really down to the wire, and I was struggling."

"Yeah, okay. Anyways, I took forever trying to come up with this gift and a way to get it to her, so you're on your own this year, buddy."

"I'll have you know, Raskolnikov, that I've actually come up with a good gift all on my own, despite your ill-faith in me. I called to ask you for help going about getting it to her."

"First of all, Raskolnikov, really?"

"I was going to go with Ebenezer Scrooge, but I thought the second-layer reference to your alienation from society was a nice touch."

"Secondly," Sam continues, ignoring this entirely, "you're going to Connecticut. You can't get it to her on your own?"

"Not exactly…"

Sam pauses, detecting a hint of something in his friend's tone that doesn't bode well with him.

"Josh?"

"See, and the thing is, I want you to realize that I'm asking this not as a favor for myself, but for my mother who you love very much and who housed and fed you for four years of your life."

"Josh."

"And that I'm willing to pull every ounce of Jewish guilt I've got who knows where inside me to pressure you into this, but it would really just be better if you agreed on your own."

"Josh."

"And before you get angry about this being last minute, I just want to remind you about that infinitely excruciating gala I went to with you a couple of years ago where everyone thought we were a couple because you chickened out on asking Holly Maybary at the last minute."

"Josh!"

"I kind of told my dad when he called a few days ago to ask what I'd gotten her that I was bringing you to her party as a big surprise."

Sam, for his part, is able to remain entirely calm, "Josh. I have the anniversary thing with Lisa next Friday."

"I know," Josh sighs.

"The anniversary thing I've been planning for two months, which you've yelled at me multiple times about when I've called asking for advice."

"Yes. I'm aware of that."

"It's our one year anniversary, Josh. I'm going to ask her to move in."

"We've discussed this previously."

"I'm saying this because you seem, somehow, to have forgotten all that, though I don't know how you could've, but then again it is you we're talking about. You must have forgotten this when you told your father I'd be accompanying you to Connecticut for your mother's birthday because otherwise I don't know why you would make such a promise, knowing very well it would never come to pass."

"Look, I panicked, okay?" Josh shouts, and without seeing him, Sam knows he's currently pacing and flailing his free arm around passionately. "My dad calls me up and goes all into great detail about this wonderful gift he's got for her and all these family members he has flying into town, from Canada no less, and then he's like, 'So, Joshua, what'd Sam get for you to give your mother this year?' And I just couldn't do it again, Sam. I couldn't. I know I'm awful at picking out gifts, and I know I forget things a lot, and I know my mom feels like she's an afterthought, but I couldn't have my dad thinking it too. So I just said the first thing that popped into my head, and now I'm begging you to come because if you don't, I've got absolutely nothing, and not only is my dad going to be disappointed that the Prodigal Son didn't make it home, but I get the lecture about how I need to appreciate and respect my mother more. I can't go through that. Not this year."

By the end of Josh's rant, Sam finds himself softening. It has sort of been an unacknowledged sore point between he, Josh, and Noah for a long time that Josh feels as though Noah favors Sam over him. It started when Josh first told his father that he was going to go into politics instead of becoming a lawyer like they'd always planned. Noah was visibly disappointed, but he'd assured Josh that he was proud of him no matter what, and that had been the end of that. Except it hadn't. Suddenly Noah was focusing all of his advice and counseling and opportunities on Sam, who still had every intention of becoming a lawyer, and who ended up getting paraded around Noah's office and shown off to potential employers. Sam had noticed the subtle differences in the way Josh discussed the future with his father, the way he'd avoid the subject of politics around Noah even though it was all he wanted to talk about otherwise. He'd make offhanded comments about Sam being the favorite child, brief little quips meant to come off as jokes, but which Sam saw through. He knew Josh better than just about any person in the world, and he knew when he was hurting. It seemed not to reach Noah or Ruth, however, which surprised Sam, but nonetheless, it was the way things were.

Sam had hoped when he moved to New York and wasn't around throwing his career in Josh's face all the time, it would help the healing process, but apparently, he'd been wrong. From Josh's comment, Noah is as oblivious as ever, and Josh is still feeling neglected. There is, however, nothing he can do to fix the situation. Knowing Josh as he does, Sam is overly aware that were he ever to mention any of this to Josh, it would not go over well. Josh, being both the emotionally detached person that he is, and the single most selflessly loyal person Sam has ever met, would deny the truth of it, and even if Sam were to get him to admit it eventually, it wouldn't make these feelings go away. Rather, Josh would then dedicate himself to making sure Sam could no longer tell when he was bothered and when he was not. And though it hurts Sam to see his closest friend so helplessly upset over something that really has no merit, he won't risk making a big deal out of it. He'll let it go, and Josh will remain none-the-wiser. At least that way Sam will still be able to tell when Josh is hurting and when he isn't, and maybe he'll be able to avoid the situations when unnecessary pain will be caused. Like right now.

"Okay," he tells Josh with a sigh.

"Okay?" Josh asks, incredulous. "That's it? No lecture? Just okay? I thought I'd have to beg a little more, at least."

"Are you volunteering to beg? Because I could change my mind—"

"No! No, that's alright. I mean…you know…thanks."

"Yeah, well, you just better be glad my girlfriend is very forgiving and thinks you're charming, which I don't think I'll ever begin to understand."

"I am charming, Sam. How else do you think I make it in politics?"

"Not for your humility, that much I know."

"Tell Lisa sorry for me," Josh replies sincerely. "I mean, really sorry. Buy her something nice. On me. I'll pay you back over the weekend."

"Tell her yourself," Sam grunts. "You're picking me up."

Josh groans, "Sam."

"This is my one condition. You just asked me to cancel my anniversary dinner with my girlfriend to accompany you to Connecticut and celebrate your mother's birthday with a bunch of old Jewish people I do not know. The least you could do is get me out of paying for a plane ticket."

"Fine," Josh huffs. "But I'm playing Toulouse Street the whole way."

"I'd expect nothing less."

There's a long pause, and Sam is just about to hang up when Josh's voice comes through again.

"When are you going to get tired of me dragging you places to bail me out of trouble?"

"I don't know," Sam answers honestly. "No time soon, I suspect. It's been a while now, and I still keep following you."

"Some would call that the definition of insanity."

"Maybe," Sam shrugs, "but only if I did so expecting the same result. I know you well enough not to expect the same result. It's never the same, and it's most certainly always an adventure."

"Bye, Sam," Josh says, and Sam can hear the smile this time. A real one.

"Bye, Josh."

. . . . .

"Yeah, it's me."

The voice that responds is so soft-spoken and upset that Sam hardly recognizes it.

"Lisa? Is everything okay?" he asks, suddenly worried.

"I'm alright, Sam."

"Good," Sam lets out a deep breath. "You sounded...I don't know. It doesn't matter. What's up?"

"Sam…I…" Lisa seems lost.

"Yes?" he prompts her.

"I've been thinking. We should…we need to talk."

. . . . .

By the time he ends the call, Sam feels numb. He hardly notices the weird look Donna gives him when he returns to her, cell phone still in hand, arms hanging limply at his sides.

"You okay there?"

He hears Donna ask the question, but he doesn't quite register the words.

"Sam?"

He still says nothing. He's staring at some indeterminate point off in the distance, focusing both intently and not at all at the same time. He doesn't remember having ever felt this lost before in his life.

"Sam?" Donna repeats, this time moving to break his staring contest with said indeterminate point and placing her hands on his arms. "What is it? You're scaring me. Was that Leo?"

He finds enough strength to shake his head.

"Josh? Is something wrong with Josh? Is he…do we need to—"

"It was Lisa," he finally says, thinking that quite possibly the only reason he managed to cobble together enough of his senses to get that much out is because she was starting to panic, and that had to be avoided at all costs.

"Oh…kay…"

"She…" he starts but isn't able to finish the actual sentence. Then it suddenly all starts to spill out of him: "She said…I mean, I knew she was unhappy. I knew we were going through a rough patch, but I kept telling her things would be better after the election. I guess I never really fully understood how truly unhappy she was. I just thought…I was trying so hard to make it work, Donna. I was."

Understanding finally registers on Donna's face, and he sees her sigh, "Oh, Sam."

"I didn't think…I wasn't expecting her to…" he struggles on. "I failed her, Donna. I tried my hardest, and it wasn't good enough."

"Sam…" she whispers softly, pulling him into the hug he so desperately needs. "I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now, but you can't blame yourself. You can't be mad at yourself for doing what makes you happy. Just promise me you won't do that."

Sam isn't sure even he knows exactly what he's feeling in that moment, but he wraps his arms tightly around her, breathing deeply into her shoulder, and nods.

Wow, this sort of developed a life of its own as I was writing it that I definitely was NOT expecting. Oh well. Let me just say, to anyone who was offended by the portrayal of Noah in this, I'm not trying to make him into a bad dad! It al works itself out, I promise :)