Author's Note: This one's for Anonymous who asked for "Some Jed and Donna father-daughter dynamic," a prompt I immediately realized I had to write because I love it. I probably should've suspected it was going to get away from me pretty fast. It started as a five things fic, but then I realized I had way more than five things, and only one day to write the doggone thing. So here are five moments from the first Bartlet Term, and eventually I will come back and write another five as well, because I love these two just that much.
…...
February, 1998
When viewed on a map of the United States, the distance between New Hamsphire and Pennsylvania didn't seem that long. When lived in the seat of a campaign bus with no shocks to speak of and climate control that was patchy at best, it was much longer. The "campaign strategy session" in the front five rows of the bus had disintegrated half an hour ago into "Governor Bartlet talks about New England," and if Josh had been wearing a tie, he'd have used it to strangle himself already.
"Now William Penn was an interesting fellow, a Quaker by religion, and after he was granted the charter, he founded Pennsylvania with a charter that was rather unique at the time. Does anyone know where the name Pennsylvania comes from, by the way?" The Governor was completely in his element and gleefully ignoring his staff's discomfort. Josh wondered if maybe they shouldn't have run him for Sixth-Grade Civics Teacher of the Year instead of President.
"Excuse me sir," he finally said, "I need to go and get the new numbers for next week's field work." Ignoring Sam's glare at his defection, he escaped to the back of the bus, where it was colder, but more peaceful. He sat down in his seat, next to a pile of blankets that might be trying to pass itself off as his new assistant, and picked up a random handful of papers to give himself some camouflage.
The blankets shifted enough for Donna's face to peek out. Her nose was red from the cold. "Did you know that the name Punxatawney comes from a Native American word for "town of the mosquitos?" she asked. Josh groaned loudly, but she was undeterred. "I'm just saying, it's probably lucky that Groundhog Day is in February and not August. And did you know that the tradition was originally a hedgehog that could see its shadow, but they changed it to groundhogs because there are no hedgehogs in New England?"
"Okay, that's it." Josh reached in and found Donna's arm, pulling her out of her cozy blanket nest and ignoring her whine of protest about the cold. He dragged her up to the front of the bus. "Governor, I need Sam and CJ to help me look at these numbers, but Donna here has been researching some really interesting facts about Pennsylvania. I'll let her brief you." Donna looked a little stunned as he plunked her down in the seat opposite the governor, but gamely tried to smooth out her tousled hair and look professional. Sam and CJ leapt at the opportunity for escape and Toby, no dumb cookie, followed after them. As he led the charge for the back of the bus, he heard "I was just telling Josh that the name Punxatawney means "town of the mosquitos."
"Mm, that is unfortunate. Philadelphia did much better for itself, 'the city of brotherly love.' Did you know that William Penn was a Quaker?"
"Yes sir, and Pennsylvania was the only the second colony established that allowed for free exercise of religion because of Penn's beliefs."
"Quite true, but do you know what the first one was?" Josh smirked at the success of his ploy even as he got safely out of hearing radius. Having an assistant was turning out to be more valuable than he could've imagined.
January, 1999
"Are you sure you're going the right way?" Donna demanded, following Josh at a near-run through the twisting corridors of the West Wing.
"Of course I am!" Josh insisted, increasing his stride as though that would make him even more credible. "I work here! I am in charge of everyone who works here, with a few notable exceptions that do not include you, by the way. I know this building like the back of my hand."
"You got lost going to the Mess yesterday," she reminded him, wobbling a little on her heels but doing, she thought, an admirable job of keeping up. "And we just passed the Communications bullpen again."
"Okay, so the stairs are a little tricky," he allowed. "But the West Wing, that is my territory. And sometimes I just need to keep an eye on Sam and Toby. You never know what they're going to be up to. Oh, here we go." He took a sharp left turn, diverting them into Mrs. Landingham's office.
"Hi, Mrs. Landingham," Donna said with a smile for the most senior of the senior assistants. Donna had been intimidated by the older woman for the first few months of the campaign, but nobody was as good as Mrs. L for taking a new assistant under her wing and teaching her the ropes. Most of Donna's best Josh-management tricks had been learned by watching the Governor's- now the President's- secretary at work.
"Hello, Donna," Mrs. Landingham replied with a benign smile. "Go right on in, Joshua, go save your friends."
Donna parked herself at the desk to wait for Josh, but he had other plans. With one hand on her lower back, he propelled her through the door ahead of him so that she all but stumbled into the Oval Office. Josh actually did stumble, running into her back when Donna stopped dead just inside the door like a rabbit spooked by headlights. Until now she'd never been in the Oval Office, only peeked into late at night with Ginger and Bonnie after the President had left. Right now it looked very different, with President Bartlet sitting in one of the wing chairs and Sam and CJ on each of the couches. CJ looked half-asleep, but Donna figured she was probably just thinking very hard about something. It was after normal business hours already, so whatever they'd been discussing was probably important.
"Sorry that took so long, sir," Josh said, maneuvering around Donna even as he caught her arm to rebalance her after nearly knocking her down. "But I was talking to Donna in the hallway and it turns out she took the White House tour and thinks there are some inaccuracies. That seems like an important thing to iron out." Donna glanced at him quizzically; they'd had that conversation yesterday, and at the time Josh hadn't cared even a tiny bit. He pressed his fingers lightly against her arm, urging her to play along.
President Bartlet's brow furrowed. "That doesn't sound right. Those tour guides are supposed to be experts on this entire building. I've taken that tour myself and relied on its wisdom!" He gave Donna a very intent look. "You'd better sit down and tell me exactly what it is they're saying and we'll get things sorted out." Donna obediently seated herself on the very edge of one of the candy-striped couches, right next to CJ, who seemed to be having an in-depth nonverbal conversation with Josh.
"Ah, CJ, I also think that Carol might need your help on the thing," Josh went on. "With the state dinner and the guest list? She wanted us to take another look at it."
"Oh, right, yeah, that's really important," CJ agreed with a nod. "If we don't get that published right, it could be a huge embarrassment." She looked to the president. "With your permission, sir, I'll just go with Josh and get that taken care of."
"I'll help!" Sam agreed eagerly. "You really can't have too many eyes going over this sort of thing."
President Bartlet glared at all of them. "Ah, get out of here," he ordered. They did so with alacrity, leaving Donna alone and feeling very small in the large and imposing office. The president leaned back in his chair, looking as comfortable as if he were sitting in his own living room. (Donna had been there once, it was very comfortable.) "So, what are these errors you noticed on the tour? Do we need to start hiring our own tour guides?" He was obviously joking, and it made Donna smile a little as well. "I'm not sure I could give tours myself, I've got this trick knee."
"I don't think that's necessary, sir," Donna assured him with a soft laugh. "The tour was actually very good, and I learned a lot about the White House, especially the history. There were just a few small things that I mentioned to Josh in passing, but once he gets interested in something..."
"Or thinks he's found something that will distract his boss long enough to let him escape," President Bartlet added, raising both his eyebrows and daring her to contradict him. "Don't think I didn't notice how often he dropped you off at the front of the campaign bus." She struggled not to laugh, but couldn't avoid the blush. "Tell me, Donna, do you get tired of being the matador's cape?"
It seemed pointless to prevaricate when he'd obviously caught on to Josh's little game. "Not at all, sir," she promised. He gave her a look that said he wasn't convinced. "I took the White House tour for fun even though I work here," she reminded him. "But I can learn more in thirty minutes of listening to you than in two hours touring the building."
"Well now, that's just efficient." Obviously pleased, President Bartlet slapped one knee lightly and leaned back in his chair. "And you're right, too. Did you know that the Presidential Seal on my rug here is actually the coat of arms of the presidency? And these thirteen stars, for the thirteen original states, of course, are actually called mullets, whereas if they didn't have straight arms, they'd be called estoiles. And those clouds..."
Donna leaned forward, both to get a look at the rug and listen to the the president's explanation, her nervousness all but forgotten for the moment.
August, 2000
Jed was watching television, or at least what passed for television in this prison cell of a hospital room, when the door opened quietly. Grateful for any distraction from boredom and the pain of twenty-three healing stitches, he looked over to see Abbey coming back into the room with one arm wrapped protectively around Donna Moss. Jed could immediately understand the impulse; the young woman was white, nearly grey, with fatigue and worry. "Now I want you to sit here and keep my husband entertained while I go bother the doctors for a little while. I'm going to come back with food, and if you eat it, I might be persuaded to tell you what I've found out."
"Yes, ma'am." Donna nodded automatically and let Abbey put her into the chair next to the bed, folding her hands in her lap and staring at them as though mesmerized. Over her head, Abbey looked at Jed, giving him the pointed glance and head-nod she'd given him many times over their own daughters: do something with her.
Jed raised the head of his bed another few degrees, so he could at least feel like he was sitting up. Hospital beds were ridiculous things, he'd be grateful when he could get out of this one. He studied the oblivious Donna and considered his approach. She wouldn't ignore him, he figured, he was the president and all his staffers were much too polite for that. "Is the surgery still going on, then?"
Donna nodded, raising her head to look at him. Her eyes were reddened but dry; she was not crying yet. "Another couple of hours," she told him softly. "They said it's a good sign that he's made it this far. The more of the- the more of the surgery he survives, the more his odds improve," She knotted her fingers tightly together.
"That's good," Jed replied, keeping his voice quiet as well. She looked as though the wrong loud noise right now might shatter her. "The doctors here are excellent, patched me right up with no problems."
She looked immediately apologetic, which was not exactly what he'd been going for. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir, I should've asked how you're feeling! Do you need anything?" Donna half-rose from her seat and looked around, as though she'd find something important to do in the austere hospital room.
He reached out and waved her back into her seat. "No, no, I'm fine," he assured her. "Abbey has already told me to stop being such a baby, which I have to tell you is more reassuring than anything these doctors could've told me. Unfortunately she's also told me that she'll skin me alive if I so much as set foot out of this bed without her permission, so I'm staying here to avoid causing a fight between our Secret Service details."
Jed was gratified to see a smile, however tiny, on Donna's face at that. "And in the service of keeping me laying here like a sack of flour, it would appear my wife has taken a page out of Josh's playbook. So tell me Donna, do you have any interesting trivia about this hospital and its inhabitants?"
She dropped her gaze to her heads again, shook her head. "I don't think so, sir. I'm sorry."
He waved away her apology. "That's no problem, that just means I get to do all the talking. Now just this once, mind you, if you feel like closing your eyes and listening, I'll allow that. It's been a very long day and night. But when I was young, we didn't go to the hospital for almost any reason. My brother Jonathan was born at home, in fact, and I remember how the midwife came to our house..." He spoke extemporaneously about his childhood, some fact and some embellishment, for about five minutes before her head began to nod forward despite her best efforts. By the time Abbey came back ten minutes later, Donna was sound asleep in the chair, and Jed was keeping one eye on her while he channel-surfed.
September 2002
Donna's eyes were half-closed as she gathered her things from her desk, trying to remember if there was anything else she was going to need in the next five hours. Her brain seemed to have shut itself off somewhere between Indianapolis and DC, with only intermittent bursts of function since. The guys were even worse; they'd decided it sounded like fun to walk to the White House instead of letting the airport shuttle take them all home for a few hours sleep, and she'd had to follow them, visions of faces on milk cartons dancing in her head. The walking idea had lasted about four blocks, after which point they'd paid a taxi a truly exorbitant amount to drive them the last half mile to the door.
Once they'd arrived, it had taken Leo approximately three-quarters of a second to send them home again, telling them they weren't allowed back into the building before noon, but to be back no later than 12:15. If Donna hurried, she could catch her two trains home in time for two hours sleep and a shower. She didn't know which she wanted more right now. Maybe, if she was really lucky and there were no train delays, she might even get some food and coffee. Donna closed her eyes for just a second, imagining that lovely possibility.
"Sleeping on your feet, Donnatella?" She startled and jerked upright at the completely unexpected voice. President Bartlet was standing on the other side of her desk, wearing an expression of benevolent amusement that said he was about to have a little fun at her expense. "I realize that the budget crunch has hit all our departments, but I would think they could at lest spring for a chair and a pillow."
"I'm sorry, sir," she blurted out. "Leo's sent me home already, I was just about to leave. It's been a bit of a long day." Even as she said it, she realized how asinine it sounded. She had spent the last day and a half trying to get two overgrown ten-year-olds out of Indiana, while the President had dealt with a campaign in full swing, a terrorist attack, a serious illness, and whatever else might have come up that she would never even know about.
He just smiled. "Indeed it has," he agreed. "But the whole White House owes you thanks for dragging our senior staffers home by the ear. God knows they'd never have made it otherwise." All she could manage was a weak, slightly embarrassed smile for that, but inside she was warm to her toes. "You don't normally drive to work, do you?"
She had no idea how he knew that. "No sir, I take the metro. It's not bad."
"Mmm," he replied doubtfully. "Judging by how you looked a moment ago, I'd worry about you falling asleep and winding up in Baltimore instead of at your house. Toby and Josh are both on their way home now, you should be too. I'm going to have Nancy arrange a ride for you."
"That's very kind, Mister President, but you don't have to do that," Donna began hastily, but he waved her to silence.
"Don't bother to argue, Donna, any of my girls will tell you that I am intractable on matters of safety," the President advised. "Just be in the North Lobby in five minutes"
"All right, I'll do that. Thank you, sir." Donna smiled and watched as the President strode away, obviously pleased with at least this little bit of how his day had turned out. If she splurged and took a taxi back to work, her two hours of sleep had suddenly turned into three, and made coffee a certainty. Her day was looking up too.
January 2003
Today had been the among the worst and the best days of Donna's life to date, and it didn't look to be getting less confusing anytime soon. Choosing to fall on her sword for Jack had been impulsive and, in retrospect, incredibly stupid. She'd really thought she had outgrown the woman who would sacrifice herself for her boyfriend, give up her own prospects thoughtlessly to help him get ahead. She'd learned that lesson pretty thoroughly back in Madison, and yet here she was again. She suspected it had more to do with guilt than she cared to admit, even to herself.
She'd wanted to make things work with Jack, had wanted very badly to fall in love with him. Despite his political affiliation, he should've been everything she wanted in a man. Smart and kind, honorable and well-spoken, with an understated sort of humor and a body... well, she should've had no grounds for complaint at all. If anybody in the world should've been able to wrest her heart from the stupid place it had lodged itself for the past four years, it should've been him. But he hadn't, and she couldn't, and when she'd heard he was being reassigned, she'd felt a quick and traitorous moment of relief. He'd been so much more upset than her, and he'd been working so hard, and she'd known she wasn't really going to miss him. So when the quote had come out and she'd understood what had happened, well, she'd been on the phone to CJ before she'd really thought things through.
Missing the inauguration had been terrible, part self-inflicted punishment, part not being able to bear another moment of Josh's anger. It had probably been naive of her not to realize how upset he would be. In any case, she'd cried through watching the entire thing on television, then put on her dress just to punish herself a little more before not going to the balls. She'd had her hair done already, it seemed a shame not to wear the dress, even if she didn't go anywhere with it. But then Josh had come for her, with his coterie of merry men, and he'd put his coat on her and sat her on his lap, and they'd danced... to say her day had taken a turn for the better was an understatement of massive proportion. She had no idea what all this meant for her and Josh in the future, but she was allowing more hope in her stupid heart right now than she had in the past year and a half.
When the President had summoned his staff, she hadn't thought twice about following Josh; it was just how they did things. Seeing Will become deputy communications director had been adorable and bittersweet, since as much as she liked Will, she missed her friend who'd gone away. Some part of Donna suspected already that Sam would not be back. It hadn't been too much of a disappointment to forego the late-night balls; there was work to do and Donna was honored to be one of the ones who did it. She was back in her cubicle after midnight, her hair up in a wildly curly ponytail and her dress covered by one of Josh's old Harvard sweatshirts when Charlie came by. "The President would like to see you," he told her neutrally.
Donna's stomach dropped. That had been the worst thing she hadn't thought about, what the president would think of her for giving the quote, or rather for lying about it. "One second," she told him. She pulled off the sweatshirt and shook out her hair, trying to look a little less disreputable, then followed Charlie to the Oval Office. President Bartlet was sitting behind his desk with a pile of briefing books in front of him, looking serious and very busy. Charlie announced her at the door, let her walk in, and then closed it with him on the other side, leaving her alone with the President. Once again, Donna felt very small in the Oval Office. This time, though, she wasn't going to show it. Keeping her back straight and her face up, she asked "You wanted to see me, sir?"
For a long moment, the president didn't look up, leaving her standing on the presidential seal and trying not to squirm. The eagle's face was still pointing toward the olive branches, she noted absently, despite the actions they were taking in the world tonight. Peacekeeping, she supposed it was called. Her attention was drawn back when the president cleared his throat. "I had a talk with CJ about a quote coming out of the White House this week," he began. "There were conflicting reports about where it might have come from." Donna opened her mouth, still not sure what exactly she could say, but a shake of his head stopped her anyway. "Did you tell Commander Reese what you planned to do?"
Donna planted her feet on the seal and stood up straighter. "Mister President, I take full responsibility for what I said and didn't say. It was a complete error in judgment on my part and I regret it more than I can say. Jack didn't know he was on the record when he said what he did, and they were words spoken in anger and dismay, not what he really feels. I should've called CJ and asked for her help in walking back the quote instead of making her job harder and taking advantage of her trust in me." She forced herself to stop talking before she began babbling for real, and waited for what he would say. She wondered what she would do if he fired her. Assistants weren't typically asked to resign.
The president regarded her over the top of his reading glasses. "Your loyalty is one of your most admirable qualities, Donna," he told her sternly. "But so is your honesty. The ability to speak truth to power is rare and valuable, and I would hate to see you lose it by being less than scrupulous with the truth." She swallowed hard and nodded. "Don't forget," he added, "we could always give you back to Canada."
It was such an unexpected shift that Donna laughed out loud without even realizing it. His lips quirked as well, the stern facade cracking. "Of course, if I did that, I'd have to answer to my wife, who is fond of you. And there'd be the time and effort both to replace Josh and to apologize to the Canadians for whatever diplomatic mess he would create while going after you. So don't do it again, understood?"
She beamed at him. "Yes sir, absolutely."
"Good." He nodded at her. "Now get back to your desk, we've got four more years of work to do." Donna nodded back and left, absolutely ready to get started.