Omnibus Disclaimer:

Based wholly or partly on characters and situations created by Aaron Sorkin, Thomas Schlamme, John Wells, NBC, Warner Brothers Television Production Inc., and who knows what others. Rated PG13: An unauthorized work of speculative fiction with some adult situations and sexual content, graphic language, brief nudity and mature themes. Parental discretion is advised. Do not distribute for profit or without notification to the author. Not to be taken internally. No user serviceable parts inside. Made in the USA. "I wouldn't stop for red lights." Strongest fan fiction available without a prescription. May cause dizziness, dry mouth or nausea. Do not read my fan fiction while driving, drinking or operating heavy machinery. I'm Reverend Killjoy and I approved this Disclaimer.

Note: A West Wing AU set some time in Season 5/6. Spoilers for Season 1-5+. Sequel to "Magic Kingdom Come" and "Code 208." Many thanks to the mighty Leslie, to Maggie and Callie, to Jen and Jenni and Jennifer, to Mrs. Gorman, to Caia and slim and katy and even to kursk, thanks for all the support. Review however you want (just avoid the 'update soon'- Like Grandma Ryan used to say, "Get out of the kitchen! It'll be ready when it's ready!").

Book Three: The Myth of Closure

by ReverendKilljoy

W.W. -Tuesday

"Donna!"

"Excuse me, Mr. Lyman?"

He stopped, and looked at the young woman at the desk, really looked. He shook his head, smiling sadly. He'd dashed in to grab his last minute paperwork on his way to the airport. House hunting in Orlando awaited, and he was running about ten minutes late so far.

"I'm sorry. Marcie?" She nodded. "Marcie, sorry. Long habit. No offense. Would you make sure that anything else that arrives after today addressed to Miss Moss or to me gets forwarded to Joey Lucas? I really need to get to Dulles and catch my flight."

"We already have that sorted out, Mr. Lyman." She consulted her note cards. "Miss Moss left me detailed instructions. She seemed to think you'd forget, without her here."

He grinned, and looked around to make sure no one was watching. "Well, let's just let everyone think that, okay? If word got out I can actually function without her? Not so good."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Lyman. It was nice working with you today, and you have a good flight." She stuck out her hand.

He took it and flashed a dimpled grin. "Thank you. I'll say hi when I get back. I think they're planning some sort of party when Donna and I are both back in town."

He looked at his watch, and she wondered why the sight of it made him smile so broadly, even though he was running late and would have to hurry for his flight. Every time he looked at his watch, he looked off into the distance for a moment and smiled. She wondered if he even knew he was doing it.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked towards the exit. Always a fast walker, he moved now with an ease and determination that he had not shown before. Gone the rapid tempo and the bulldog air, he walked with a spring in his step and a grin on his face, lost in his own thoughts and happy there.

He was only three minutes behind schedule when he boarded his flight to Orlando.

W.W.

She was thirty-three minutes late before her plane even left the gate. Donna Moss looked at her watch as though willing it to give her a different answer. Thirty-four minutes late.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. They seem to have resolved the issues that had delayed us at the gate, and we thank you for your patience."

She closed her eyes and sighed. If they didn't hit any more delays, she'd miss dinner but should still have time to unpack and shower before the reception tonight. She realized the captain was still speaking.

"So, once our slot opens in the pattern we'll be taking off for today's non-stop service to New York's JFK airport. We're currently number eleven in line for take off, so just sit back and relax. Thank you."

Eleven? She closed her eyes. She mourned, quietly and profoundly, for the shower she wasn't going to get after the flight. Still, it was her first trip as the head of the new Non-Governmental organization Liaison Advisory Board, or "NOLAB" as Josh had taken to calling it. She hoped she had everything under control.

Her itinerary was relatively simple: fly up to New York and meet a few of her counterparts at the U.N., then the following day off to Israel to meet with NGO leaders in Gaza and the West Bank for three days of meet-and-greet fact-finding. No one expected anything momentous out of the trip, but it was a chance to meet the players, put some faces with names.

Also on the plus side, Andi Wyatt, Toby's ex-wife, was going to be in Gaza on a congressional delegation, or CODEL, along with some people from state and the DOD. Although they were by no means close, Donna thought it might be fun to run into someone she knew and trade stories after a day or so in a new country.

Thinking of Andi, the mother of Toby's twins, also made Donna think about her and Josh's situation. She had no specific reason to think she was pregnant, but they were both waiting with very mixed feelings to see if she missed her next period. She had brought an Early Pregnancy Test kit in her bag, in case she missed. Of course, she'd packed pads and tampons if she didn't. Now she just tried to decide if the nerves and aches and fatigue she was experiencing were PMS, the first hints of pregnancy, or just too much travel and stress with too little sleep.

She reclined her seat the maximum four degrees and pretended to sleep. Whether or not she and Josh were expecting, she decided it was time to start taking better care of her body, starting with getting enough rest. As she dozed, trying to calm her racing mind, her flight moved from eleventh in line for takeoff to tenth.

W.W.

"Are you sure you have my mother's new number?" Andi Wyatt was standing, hands on her hips, and talking very quickly to Toby Ziegler in his West Wing office. "And Molly's antibiotics? Her ear looks better but she still has-"

"Three more days," Toby finished with exasperation. "I know. I have everything under control. As soon as the afternoon briefing is done, I'm picking them up from the daycare at the OEOB and we're going to visit the President and Doctor Bartlet. I assure you that a medical doctor, a Nobel-winning President and one highly motivated and educated father can in fact keep up with a pair of infants until their grandmother comes back from South Carolina tomorrow."

He rubbed his hand nervously over his bare scalp, rubbing the spot over his eyebrow with his thumb. She could tell he was trying so very hard not to shout at her. Despite their inability to live together without making her crazy and sad, Andi still loved and respected Toby very much. She was glad he was going to take the twins for a night before her mother came back to town in the morning.

"Oh, and once you get them down tonight, look in the bottom of the red bag for a Tupperware," she told him finally.

"For?" he asked, grabbing a pen to add to his list. He had one of his ubiquitous notebooks in hand already.

"For you." Andi smiled her lopsided smile, the one that had originally landed him in the first place. "I brought you some pie."

He put down the pen. "Good pie?"

She laughed at the soft intensity of his question. "Cyndi's, blueberry. Picked it up fresh this morning. A reward for getting through the day with the twins, if you make it."

He considered this, and then put his list carefully back into his pocket.

"You are," he said with a straight face and his sad basset-hound eyes sparkling, "not without merit as a friend and partner in raising the twins."

"I'll see you when we get back from the West Bank," she told him, with as close to affection as they permitted themselves. "And stop yelling at Joey Lucas. It doesn't do any good, you know, and it scares the interns. Take care."

"Have a good, you know," he said gruffly. "And don't worry. The kids will be fine."