Happy Birthday Mr. Lyman: Epilogue By Jenna

* * Monday night, Christmas Eve, 2000 * *

White House Communications Director Toby Ziegler paced up and down the sidewalk in front of the Georgetown townhome smoking a cigar. Press Secretary C.J. Cregg sat on the steps, a newspaper protecting her black wool dress coat from the concrete and insulating her from the chill of the step. A couple of six packs of beer sat at her side and two beers had been removed. CJ idly peeled at the label of one of her beer, while Toby's was perched on the stonework at the bottom of the stairs so that he could grab it as he paced by.

"They should've been here by now." He said pausing at the stairs and picking up his beer to take a drink.

"Relax Toby. The Emergency Room was probably backed up," His companion replied.

A black BMW pulled up and parked and Sam Seaborn got out and walked over to join them.

"Hey!" CJ called, "I thought you had a flight to California."

"I stayed." He replied succinctly coming up to grab a beer. "They're on their way."

"You talked to Josh?"

"Donna." He replied with a quick shake of his head. "Just enough to know they'll be here soon. He doesn't know we're here."

"Damn stoic stubborn martyr!" Toby exclaimed in frustration pivoting and walking away from the steps.

CJ and Sam looked at each other and raised their eyebrows. An old blue Mazda turned onto the street at pulled into Josh's parking space. CJ stood up and picked up the newspaper she been sitting on and one of the six-packs. Sam grabbed up the other six-pack as he took a swig from his beer.

Donna got out of the driver's seat and looked over at the three companions, her sad concern visible in the light from the streetlamps. She grabbed Josh's backpack from the back seat and waited while he prepared to face the music -- a different form of music but just as emotionally devastating as that which triggered the post-traumatic stress disorder that had stolen his composure and almost his life. Josh liked to think of himself as Mr. Invincible, the Macho-Man with a Plan who could make Republicans quake and co-eds swoon. He didn't like being the guy who had to beg his friends for help just to get through the night.

Josh got out of the car and hunched his shoulders as he slowly walked towards his friends. He stopped and looked up into their concerned faces and made a self-deprecating shrug. What could he say?

Toby, closest to him, walked over and put a hand on his back and guided him to the door. "Let's go inside."

Donna unlocked the apartment and led the way into the townhouse. She noticed the single sheet of glass in the window temporarily replacing the delicate paneled frame that Josh had smashed out with the palm of his hand during the wee hours two days before. Donna walked over to the window and pulled the curtains. She turned back to see Josh staring at the window. The others had noticed Josh's stillness and followed the path of his eyes to the obviously replaced window.

"Josh?" Sam asked softly. "Can I help you with your coat?"

"Huh?"

"Your coat. You don't want to... you know... hurt your hand trying to get it off..."

"Yeah." Josh undid the sash and Sam gently tugged the overcoat off his shoulders and eased the left sleeve over the freshly bandaged hand. The old bandage that Josh had fashioned had been replaced by a starkly white professionally bandage that appeared to be more than twice the amount of dressing that could possibly be needed. Certainly it would garner attention and sympathy -- two things Josh would rather not have because of the necessity for explanation they'd incur.

"So what'd the doctor say?" Toby asked bluntly as he flopped down in an easy chair and put his feet on the coffee table.

"Stanley Keyworth?" Josh asked startled at the bluntness of the question.

"I think we can guess what he said. I was referring to your hand," Toby replied using the bottom of his beer bottle to point towards Josh's bandaged hand.

"Oh," Josh said relaxing his shoulders in relief at not being put on the spot about his mental health just yet. He sat down on the sofa and CJ joined him, handing him a beer after getting a nod of 'okay' from Donna. "It'll be fine." He shot Donna a look that appealed to her to give the gory details as she saw fit based on whatever the others already knew.

"They gave him a local anesthesia while they cleaned it out and gave him a shot. And he has to take antibiotics for ten days," she said rattling the pill bottle. "But he was lucky, there wasn't any serious damage."

Josh snorted at Donna's use of the term 'lucky'. "They asked me if I'd had a tetanus shot lately... Must have missed all the TV coverage last summer or they would've--" He faltered, not really needing to explain that obviously he would have received a tetanus shot at that time whether he needed one or not. In fact, he hadn't needed one, the doctor said they're good for five -- or was it ten-- years and he and the rest of the Senior Staff had every shot imaginable just after the inauguration in preparation for the President's trip to India and Hong Kong that spring. But giving him an unneeded tetanus shot was easier than getting his medical records. He certainly had been in no shape to tell them, and Donna wasn't there... Donna could have told them... He shook his head to clear his thought -- why was he obsessing over a tetanus shot? He took a drink from his beer and brought his attention back to his friends sitting around the room staring off into space or casting furtive glances at each other, trying desperately not to stare at him.

"Sorry... I fazed-out there a bit..." he muttered softly.

"Josh?" Toby asked softly clearing his throat. "Are... are you having flashbacks of the shooting?"

There it was. It was on the table now. Josh stared at Toby, his eyes wide and his jaw slack. He swallowed, lowered his eyes, and nodded.

The others breathed in relief.

"It's PTSD then? He did diagnose post-traumatic stress?"

"Yeah."

"You put your hand through that window?" Toby nodded to the drapes covering the replacement window.

Josh nodded in the affirmative. "I... I couldn't make it stop. It kept happening over and over... the music... the sirens... the screams... the--" he hesitated and swallowed. "the shots..." he finished very softly.

"So you thought putting your hand through the window would make it stop?" Sam asked with hurt sarcasm from his perch on a chest near the TV.

"Yeah." Josh replied with a wry grimace. "Though I don't think there was much 'thinking' involved.

"No shit." CJ responded with sarcastic vehemence and removed her feet from the coffee table to sit up and glare at her friend. "Josh, we're your friends! If you're having problems, you call us!

Josh glance up looking both guilty and stubborn. "I..." He swallowed and looked away. "The President could still fire me...Leo says I'll keep my job, but...that's not his call. There's no way we can keep this quiet for the next six years. If it gets out... if I'm a liability... he'll have to fire me..."

"Is that what this is about?" CJ fumed "That's why you didn't say anything? Why you let this get to the point where you almost killed yourself?"

"I didn't--"

"You were afraid the President would fire you?" CJ voice had gotten higher and louder as she ranted at Josh, trying to break through the self-protective barriers he kept so firmly in place. "God, Josh!" Her voice turned to pure anguish. "You bastard."

"CJ" Sam said sharply.

"CJ, I don't think..." Toby said simultaneously.

"No!" CJ held out a hand to stop their protest. "You scared the shit out of us, Josh," she said more softly but still with heart-rending anguish. Talk to us!" She reached out to touch his arm.

"What do you want me to say?" Josh lashed back in anger jerking away from her touch. "That getting shot sucks! Fine. It sucks! That I don't know what's happening to me? I don't. That I don't know if I'll ever be normal again--" He broke off and jumped up from the sofa knocking the coffee table and making the beers rattle precariously. He walked towards the kitchen but stopped knowing he couldn't run away from the situation. His friends surrounded him, and they were his friends. They'd already proven their loyalty and deep personal affection in caring for him during his long months of recovery. He leaned an arm against the doorframe and breathed heavily while he regained his composure.

"I'm sorry he said, his back still turned to the group. I apologize. You're right CJ. I should have talked to someone when I first started-- I... I'm just really tired..."

CJ and Toby stood up; taking the hint that Josh wanted them to leave. Toby muttered a soft goodbye and CJ squeezed Josh's shoulder as she passed. He did not turn around until the door closed behind them. He sighed knowing that Sam and Donna would not leave without seeing him safely to bed.

Donna looked at Josh then turned to Sam and said, "I'll get you a blanket and pillow. Can you--" she nodded towards Josh.

"Sure. Come on, Josh. I'll help you get ready for bed."

"Guys... Really... You don't have to stay. I'm not going to kill myself, you know."

"We know. But we're staying anyway." Sam replied motioning for Josh to head to the bedroom.

"Weren't you supposed to fly to California this afternoon?" Josh asked.

Sam shrugged and put his hand on Josh's shoulder guiding him to the bedroom to help get the suit coat and shirtsleeve off past the bandage. "I stayed."

* * *

Sam Seaborn stared up at the shadows dancing on the ceiling of Josh's townhouse. He could hear the sounds from Josh's room as he tossed and turned and occasionally cleared his throat, obviously Josh was not able to fall asleep. He heard the occasional turn and pillow fluff sounds coming from the spare bedroom where Donna was also not sleeping. Finally he decided since none of them were actually able to sleep they should just get up. He tossed the blanket aside and padded into the kitchen to put on the teakettle. Josh heard Sam in the kitchen and joined him.

Sam was looking through the cabinets as Josh, wearing a pajama bottom and t-shirt, walked into the kitchen. Sam turned to Josh and asked, "Do you still have some of that tea that helps you sleep?"

"I dunno..."

"Other cabinet. Behind the teapot." Donna said coming up behind Josh.

"Ah!" Sam remarked as he opened that cabinet and pulled out the teapot and herbal tea. "Got it." He turned to look at Josh and Donna staring at him from the doorway. I'll bring the tea in the living room... Why don't you guys go sit down?"

"You sure?" Donna asked.

"I can make the tea, Donna. Go."

Josh and Donna returned to the dark living room and Josh tossed Sam's pillow and blanket to the other end of the sofa and sat down in his usual spot at the left end. Donna quietly picked up the blanket, folded it and sat it over the sofa arm along with the pillow. Her spot cleared, she then sat sideways at the far end of the sofa tucking one foot beneath her and hugging her right knee to her chest. She watched Josh as he sat in the dark with his eyes veiled and his legs stretched out with his feet resting on the coffee table.

"I wish you wouldn't," he said not looking up.

"Wouldn't what?"

"Stare at me like I'm some freak about to start raving at any moment."

She started at the harshness of his appraisal of their concern. "No one thinks you're a freak, Josh."

He snorted a laugh. "That's why I wasn't allowed to meet the President or attend any meetings in the Oval Office Saturday. The Secret Service thinks I'm gonna turn into the Mad Slasher."

"No they don't, Josh. Leo explained that... it's procedure. Besides, the President was trying to leave for Manchester," Donna gently stated.

"Right." Josh said sarcastically but let the matter drop as Sam entered the room with the tea tray.

"Ow!" Sam yelped crashing into the furniture. The tea tray rattled but he managed not to spill more than a slosh. Josh removed his feet from the coffee table and Sam sat the tray down. "We need some light in here." Sam said reaching for a lamp switch.

"No. I like the dark" Josh replied with a note of pleading in his voice.

Sam looked over at Donna barely able to make out her face. "Okay but you may end up with tea all over the carpet."

"I can see to pour. My eyes have adjusted." Donna said scooting over next to Josh so she could reach the tea. She poured a cup and handed it to Sam who then sat down in the easy chair. She poured Josh a cup but he had closed his eyes again.

"Josh... your tea." He opened his eyes and stared at her like he wasn't quite sure where he was. Then his eyes refocused and he took the tea, his hand shaking slightly. She held onto the cup with him for a moment as his hand steadied. He looked back up into her eyes and gave a self-deprecating grin at the telltale sign of his emotional state. Donna poured herself a cup of tea but did not slide back to the other end of the couch. She turned sideways so that her left leg was tucked under her and her right knee was in contact with Josh's leg, wanting the contact and feeling that Josh would as well. She placed her left arm on the back of the sofa so that her hand was in easy reach of Josh's shoulder should he need additional comfort.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their tea. Neither Sam nor Donna had the bluntness of Toby or CJ when it came to broaching a difficult subject. They had both acted as caregivers for Josh during his long and painful recovery period -- they just thought they had finished that job six weeks ago. Along with Josh's mother, they had nursed him, they had comforted him, and they had nurtured him. But they couldn't heal Josh. They'd done their best to help him get over the physical trauma of being shot, but knowing what to say to a gunshot victim to ease any emotional trauma -- they were out of their depths.

"Josh..." Sam finally ventured, clearing his throat. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Hmm?" He replied, opening his eyes and focusing on Sam.

"Is there anything we can do to help? You know... with the PTSD..."

Josh was silent for a few moments and seemed to have withdrawn into himself. Then softy and hesitantly he answered, "It was the music... The music... It set off the flashbacks. It was the same as sirens to me... the shrill, wailing... Stanley said I was reliving it, that I have to get to the point where I can remember it without reliving it... He's gonna recommend a therapist. One who specializes in PTSD."

"Leo's okay with your going back into therapy?" Sam asked pouring refills of tea for himself and the others.

"It's that or fire me. I can't go on like this." He said lifting his bandaged hand and waving it in the general direction of the window. Donna moved her left hand from the sofa and dropped it onto Josh's shoulder gently rubbing it back and forth. She let her hand rest there, occasionally stroking his shoulder.

"The music at the Christmas party set off flashbacks? I thought it was the pilot." Donna asked.

"Cano? Stanley said I'd already started before then. It was the brass quartet earlier that day. The concert was the worst though 'cause I couldn't leave. As soon as I could, I got away. I didn't want anyone to see me like that. Leo didn't want me taking any meeting anyway..."

"Toby saw you. He told me he watched you throughout the concert. He would have gotten you out of there if you lost it any further, even if it made the front page of every paper." Sam said. "He was gonna say you had the flu."

"We were looking for you afterwards. But you'd disappeared," Donna said.

Josh rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. "I don't even remember driving home. It's amazing I made it in one piece --such as it was." Josh said wryly.

"That's when you smashed the window out?" Sam asked.

He shook his head. "Later. Sometime after midnight... Friday was my birthday, you know."

"Yeah," Sam answered. "We were gonna have a party for you, but...

Josh nodded as he remembered rebuffing the suggestion of a party earlier that month. "I got home, and I remember drinking and thinking about how I was going crazy. I turned 40 just before midnight, and I was going crazy. I didn't know what was happening. I just knew it couldn't be happening. Not to me.

"You're not crazy, Josh." Donna said rubbing his shoulder again. "It'll get better. You'll see. In the meantime, we're here anytime you need us. Just call." Her platitudes felt totally inadequate, but they needed to be said. She slid her hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck and stroked the soft curls above his nape. Josh exhaled a sigh and closed his eyes. Donna took his teacup and set it on the table, continuing to rub his neck and head as Josh relaxed under her touch. "Stretch out on the sofa, Josh. Put your head in my lap and try to take a nap." She pulled him up as she slid back to the other end of the sofa. He followed her lead and stretched out with his head in her lap. She unfolded the blanket and tossed it over him. She tossed the pillow to Sam who grabbed the afghan off the back of the easy chair and leaned the chair back to bring out the footrest and make his own bed for the night. The two real beds would go unused as the three friends chose the comfort of each other's presence over the physical comfort of the beds. Donna continued to stroke Josh's hair as the tears slid silently down her face.

* * *

* * Tuesday, Christmas Day 2000 * *

Sam woke up at dawn and stumbled into the kitchen to start the coffee. Josh woke at the smell and extracted himself from Donna who had slid down partially under and beside him during the night. He lifted her as best he could one handed and repositioned her stretched out on the sofa. He spread the blanket over her and wandered into the kitchen.

"Hey."

"Hey," Sam replied pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to Josh. "You have no food."

"I usually stop and get something."

"You always used to have bagels."

"Yeah, well, I used to have my mother or Donna grocery shopping for me."

"See, there's your mistake. You don't look pathetic enough. You gotta work on that so Donna'll start cooking dinner for us again."

Josh smiled at Sam's silliness and sat down at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee. Sam felt like he'd accomplished his mission for the day in getting Josh to smile. He smirked back and joined Josh at the table. "I thought I'd run home and shower and change. I'll be back in a little while with bagels."

"'Kay. Donna's asleep. I think I'll take a shower myself."

"Can you manage? I can wait to leave."

Josh looked at his bandaged hand and frowned. "I'm not supposed to get it wet..."

"Have you got a plastic bag? And some rubber bands... I can wrap it up for you before I leave. That's what my mom did when I broke my wrist skateboarding when I was twelve."

"You skateboarded?"

"I'm from California. You ice-skated. I skateboarded."

Josh shrugged, "I just can't picture you skateboarding... Did you have streak your hair blond?"

"Of course. I was quite the dude."

"What happened?"

"I graduated from Junior High."

Sam and Josh finished their coffee while Sam located the plastic bag and rubber bands to cover Josh's bandage. He helped Josh maneuver the t-shirt over his head one-handed and then left for home promising to be back in a couple hours at most. Josh crept through the living room so as not to wake Donna and to the master bath. Showering, removing the wet plastic bag from his hand, and dressing proved to be a frustrating experience that exhausted Josh's patience. He decided he wasn't up to the challenge of shaving just yet. He headed back to the kitchen to have some more coffee and read the paper until Donna woke up or Sam returned.

"Josh?" Donna asked sleepily leaning on an elbow. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I was just gonna read the paper. Sam'll be back later with bagels. Go back to sleep."

"'Kay..."

Sam showed up at 8:00 sharp just as Donna was getting out of the shower.

"CJ called. She said to bring you both over for Christmas dinner at 2:00." Sam said, putting the sack of bagels on the kitchen table. He looked over at the depleted coffee pot and frowned. <Gotta do something about that> he thought as he walked over to the coffee maker and proceeded to make a fresh pot. "How long are you one-handed?" He asked watching Josh struggle with opening a container of cream cheese.

"I'm supposed to see my doctor tomorrow... have him look at it and get a new dressing. Then... maybe a week.

"You didn't need stitches?" He took the cream cheese container from Josh and opened it.

"No. It looks bad, but it wasn't that deep." Josh responded opening a drawer and getting knives for the cream cheese spread Sam had bought.

"Is it gonna leave a scar?"

"Yeah. I'm getting quite the collection. Maybe I can show them off to the Senate and scare them, huh?"

"They ought to be good for something besides getting women to grocery shop for you. We can parade you around Capitol Hill in a loin cloth as the 795th wonder of the world."

Josh laughed out right at Sam's latest fight of fancy, providing Donna with a too-seldom seen lately glimpse of the carefree dimpled-Josh as she walked into the room while drying her hair with a towel. Her heart skipped a beat. "What's so funny?" She asked walking over to the coffee pot and pouring a cup.

"We're going to parade Josh around Capitol Hill in a loin cloth to show off his scars. We'll sell tickets. The women will swoon; the men will cringe. We'll solve the national debt."

She smiled and shook her head in mock exasperation. "You really have to cut back on the sugar there, Sam." She grabbed several plates from the cabinet and divvied them out as she sat down at the table.

The guys joined her and proceeded to spread cream cheese on their bagels. Donna and Sam both watched out of the corners of their eyes to see if Josh would be able to manage with just the exposed tips of his left fingers available to hold the bagel while he spread the cream cheese. He seemed to be managing okay so they ignored his difficulty and let him have the pride of managing for himself.

* * *

Sam and Donna had no real plans for the day other than sticking around to make sure someone was there if Josh needed to talk or seemed to be losing it. He assured them that he was fine, but they in turn assured him that they had nothing better to do than just hang out. When Josh tried to review files on the IMF loans he found out that his backpack containing the files had mysteriously disappeared. A ransom note had been left in its place with instructions that if he ever wanted to see his beloved backpack again he would have to proceed on foot to the nearby park and walk aimlessly for an hour. He was to take the blond woman with him so that the kidnapper could identify him... Josh chuckled and accused Sam who professed his total innocence. Sam offered to man the phones while they walked in case the kidnapper called. Smiling her thanks at Sam's creativity, Donna bundled Josh into his coat and pushed him out the door.

Josh and Donna had been gone about 20 minutes and Sam was just about to fall asleep on the sofa when the phone rang.

"Josh Lyman's residence."

"Sam?" the familiar voice of Mary Lyman asked.

"Mary... Hi. Josh and Donna just went for a walk. They should be back in about an hour. I can tell him to call."

"Please. Weren't you going to California for Christmas?"

Sam hesitated. "I stayed." He replied softly.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Well, not 'wrong' wrong. Not 'wrong' in the sense that anything terrible has happened. In fact, everything is just peachy fine. I would have to say even that everything--"

"Sam. You're rambling and I know you ramble when you're trying to evade the truth. Now tell me what's wrong before I get on the next train and come down there. Is Josh okay?"

Sam hesitated.

"Sam? Is he okay?"

"He should tell you. It's not-- I mean..."

"Sam? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then tell me what's wrong. Josh will forgive your telling me quicker than he'll forgive your putting his mother in the hospital. Talk!"

"Yes, ma'am. He has post-traumatic stress disorder. He's having flashbacks, he yelled at the president, he put his hand through a window, he equates music to sirens, and he spent yesterday with a psychologist from ATVA -- the trauma victim people -- and he has to start seeing a special trauma therapist." He took a breath. "I think that about covers it."

Mary was silent for a moment. "Post-traumatic stress... Donna said he was on edge... that she'd been reading up on shooting victims and their adjustment afterwards... How is he? I can come down tomorrow..."

"He's better, really, he is. I think just knowing that what he's going through actually has a name and a reason has helped. It's like he doesn't have to spend all his energy just pretending that there's nothing wrong with him. Donna took him to the hospital to get his hand looked after last night."

"Is it okay?"

"Yeah. He's gotta take antibiotics and it's a nuisance not being able to use his left hand for a few days, but it'll be fine. We had a good talk last night. Donna and I stayed over just to, you know, make sure someone was here if... uh...if he had nightmares or something."

"Did he?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I mean, he couldn't sleep at first, but then we just all kinda camped out in the living room and he got some sleep then. He seems a lot more calm today, so he'll probably be fine on his own tonight..."

"Maybe I should come down today."

"I'm sure he'll say you shouldn't. He'll object to being babied."

"I'm sure he will, but I expect that. I'll just have to appeal to his stomach."

Sam smiled, "Works for me. I think Josh is gonna be needing some help in the evenings... ya know... he's been slacking off on his exercises..."

"You're invited for dinner, Sam." Mary chuckled, things couldn't be that bad if Sam was finagling a dinner invitation. "I'll call back when I get my plans made. I'll try to get there tonight if possible."

"That'd be good. I think we'd all feel better if someone was here, and Donna can't stay here overnight anymore now that he's physically well. I mean... it'd look like..."

"I understand. Besides, it's too soon."

"Yeah. He's not-- nevermind. I'll pick you up tonight, just let me know... Oh, I almost forgot... we're having Christmas dinner at CJ's." He looked at his watch. "We'll have to leave here at 1:30, so call there or one of our cell numbers after that time."

* * *

As expected, Josh whined about Sam having told his mother about the PTDS problems and worrying her into coming down from Connecticut on Christmas Day. The rapidity with which he was reconciled to the concept, however, told a different story. He, also, did not want to risk being alone with his thoughts during the night, and managing everything one-handed was proving near impossible. In addition, there was a sense of relief at not having to have that awkward conversation with his mother himself. <Hi Mom, guess what...> Now, she would swoop in all unconditional love and support in full mother-mode. He could use a few days of mothering -- especially if he ended up getting fired or forced to take a leave of absence over this. Regardless of what Leo promised, he knew the President could still fire him. He reminded himself again that it wasn't really Leo's call to make. He should prepared for the worst. Josh hunched his shoulders, his mind not at all on the sappy Christmas movie that Sam and Donna were watching. He had better start thinking of an apology to the President -- not that it would necessarily do him any good. He was dreading the President's return from the Manchester house tomorrow night.

* * *

The threesome arrived at CJ's to find Toby opening a bottle of wine and Ainsley Hayes stirring a pot of pasta for the Christmas spaghetti. So it wasn't traditional, CJ defended at their teasing, it was all she could come up with at the last minute.

Ainsley had planned on going to North Carolina to spend Christmas with her sister, but her nephew had come down with chicken pox and so she'd stayed in DC. She'd called CJ that morning to see if she wanted to go out for Christmas lunch and a movie and had received an invitation to dinner instead. The Republican lawyer was still new to the group and was a bit shy around Toby whom she didn't know as well as the others. She'd heard through the grapevine yesterday that Josh was meeting with someone from ATVA and CJ had filled her in on enough details so that she didn't ask any awkward questions about his bandaged hand. Still, she was a little ashamed of her initial reaction of arguing the point about gun control with Sam while standing in front of Josh the first time she ever met him. She'd just never really thought of the lasting physical effects of being a victim of violence -- much less the mental effects. For her, guns were just something that people had around. They weren't the thing that had caused such a devastating injury to her best friend. If she had it to do over again, she'd react with compassion first. As Leo always said 'there's a way to be a person'.

The guys headed to the living room to watch the game after CJ ordered them out of her kitchen when Toby kept trying to compromise the integrity of her meat sauce --or improve it, depending on which version you believed. Donna was making a salad when she heard her purse ringing.

"Josh Lyman." Donna said pulling his cell phone out and answering it.

"Hi, Mary. What time should we pick you up. Okay... Delta... Okay. No, that's perfect. She walked away from the CJ and her voice dropped and as she continued, "No... not really... yeah. I'm glad you're coming. Let me get him for you." She stepped into the living room where the guys were huddled around CJ's old 19-inch TV trying to watch football and marveling at the irony that the Press Secretary wouldn't have a better TV. "Josh, it's your Mom."

"Did you get the time she's arriving?" Sam asked eagerly as Josh extracted himself from CJ's too low and deep sofa.

"Delta, 9:15." Donna replied, handing Josh the phone and pointing him towards the bedroom so that he could speak privately with his mother.

"Mom... Mom don't-- I'm fine, Mom... Can we..." as he closed the bedroom door. He didn't come out for 15 minutes, and when he did his eyes were suspiciously red but everyone pretended not to notice.

CJ's nontraditional Christmas spaghetti was a success. She swore she almost added dried cranberries to the meat sauce but that Ainsley advised her against it as being too traditional. That bit of information received a chorus of 'Thank Gods' from the table. And even Toby said that he owed Ainsley for that saving grace. CJ, Toby, and Ainsley made concerted efforts to keep a lively and light conversation going and eventually managed to pull the three more somber members of the party into a more festive mood.

After dinner CJ brought out desert, but instead of pie, it was a birthday cake in belated honor of Josh's 40th birthday. He wasn't expecting it -- no one was -- it was a last minute thing that CJ had decided on as she passed the bakery section in the grocery store that morning. The only trouble she went to, she explained, was finding a grocery story open on Christmas Day. No one had brought gifts, of course. They'd pretty much quit giving and receiving Christmas and Birthday presents amongst their peers 15 years ago. Why give someone something they don't need and can't use when they can buy anything they need, when they need it? They gave their assistants presents -- that was the norm. The assistants and junior staffers would have a Secret Santa gag-gift exchange as part of their staff Christmas party.

Seeing the cake reminded Josh that he had been too deep in the pain to even think about Donna's gift.

"Donna... I'm sorry, I forgot your gift."

"That's okay, Josh. I don't need anything."

"No... I did buy a gift -- last month. I never wrapped it though... and now--" he held up his bandaged hand."

"So what'd you get me?"

"You really want me to tell you. You don't want to, like, wait for it a few days?"

"Josh..." she said warningly.

"Okay, I bought you one of those cashmere shawls. So you won't freeze at, you know, state dinners and... and concerts and stuff, like you usually do. It'll fold down 'til it'll fit in one of those ridiculously small purses you carry to those things." He awkwardly explained. When Donna still didn't say anything he decided he'd better apologize for his poor choice. "I know... it's nothing special... I'm sorry... I just... it made me think of you when I saw it."

"Josh. Thank you." She said wrapping her arms around his shoulders to hug him. "It's a wonderful gift. You've already given me the best gift possible, of course. All of us."

He pulled back from the hug to give her a puzzled look. "Donna, you've had too much Christmas cheer. I haven't given you anything."

CJ provided the answer, "You lived, Josh. You lived." Donna pulled him back tight into a hug and kissed his neck just below his right ear.

"You lived," she whispered.

* * *

"Hello..." Josh answered the ringing cell phone with a smile in his voice. His tone turned serious and quiet. "Yeah, sure... I'll be there shortly."

"What is it, Josh?" CJ said looking over from where she was bickering with Ainsley, Toby, and Sam.

"Leo." He said putting his phone back in Donna's purse. "The President's back early. He wants to see me."

CJ lifted her eyebrows. "Oh..." she replied softly. It'll be okay, Josh. I'm sure the President wouldn't--"

"Yeah. I gotta go." He looked over at Sam who had driven him and Donna to CJ's apartment.

"Let's go." Sam stated firmly as he stood up, prepared to drive Josh to the Gates of Hell if asked. "Donna?"

"I can take you back to Josh's to get your car if you want to stay," Toby volunteered.

Donna looked at Josh for a clue on whether he'd prefer her to not come. He wouldn't look at her, so she took that as an indication that he would like her to come but wouldn't ask. She wondered briefly if looking at her would have also meant she should come... "Thanks, but I need to get something at the office anyway." She was sure she could find something there that couldn't wait 12 hours. She walked to the bedroom to grab their coats off the bed, Sam trailed behind and put his own as she handed it to him. She put her coat on and carried Josh's overcoat back to the living room.

"Thanks, CJ." Josh said in his soft husky 'sincere' voice.

Donna held out his coat allowing him to slip his injured hand in slowly, and then held the coat for his other arm. "Thanks for having us over for Christmas dinner, CJ." She smiled her gratitude for more than the meal.

"Hey, thanks for coming. I never get to cook for anyone anymore," she replied with a smile.

Toby cleared his throat. "You can cook for us anytime. I seem to recall your turning down a perfectly good opportunity to cook Thanksgiving dinner just last month."

"Toby! You invited me at the last minute!"

"I love to cook." Ainsley piped up. "Next year I'll have y'all over for Thanksgiving Dinner. Do you like turkey and dressing? I love it. I could eat a whole turkey. In fact, I remember once--"

With that Sam, Donna, and Josh slipped out of the apartment leaving Toby and CJ to enjoy their argument and Ainsley to reminisce about her favorite foods. The ride to the White House was a quiet. Leo had promised that as long as he had a job, Josh would have a job, but Josh couldn't place much reliance on that since it was President Bartlet who really had the final word on that. He was obsessing... He knew he was obsessing...He couldn't stop obsessing... He took a breath and continued obsessing. If the President thought Josh was a liability, then he would resign. He wouldn't let Leo make any heroic sacrifices or argue for his behalf. He braced himself and prepared to do the dignified thing and resign. He'd raised his voice to the President in the Oval Office -- who was he kidding -- he'd more than raised his voice. He'd totally lost control. It was a wonder the Secret Service hadn't busted down the door and wrestled him to the ground. He put his hands to his eyes and rubbed his temples with his fingertips. He felt sick. He loved his job. He'd loved working for Bartlet. What was he going to do if the President told him to get the Hell out of his White House?

"You okay, Josh?" Sam said looking over at his quiet friend ghostly pale in the flickering light from the streetlights.

"Yeah."

"Your stomach bothering you, Josh?" Donna asked from her spot in the back seat.

"A little."

"You want a--"

"Yeah." He said, reaching a hand back.

She felt around in her purse and found one of the packets of stomach pills she always carried for Josh's sensitive system. For a man who had a reputation as a cutthroat political operative he was incredibly sensitive, nervous, and unsure of himself. All of which contributed to his delicate stomach. She just hoped he didn't throw up on the President...

By mutual consent, Donna and Sam decided to loiter a few minutes in the lobby and remain unobtrusive while Josh went to see Leo. They would be there for support but not weaken him by seeming to be there to hold his hand. Then Donna could drive Josh back in his car while Sam went to the airport to get Mary Lyman.

Leo's door was open and he was reading a report. Josh rapped on the doorframe. "Hey."

"Hey. How you doing?" the White House Chief of Staff asked quietly.

"Sam and Donna came with me. We'd gone to CJ's for Christmas dinner... "

"Good." Leo replied understanding the seeming non sequitur as an oblique reference to the fact that his closest friends were holding him up, so he was managing.

"The President's back early." Josh remarked.

"Yeah. He wanted to get ready for the thing Friday.

"Ah." The IMF thing that Josh was supposed to help with -- assuming he still had a job by Friday.

"He's at the residence." Leo said standing up and gesturing towards the door to the portico as he grabbed his coat.

"Yeah." Josh hunched his shoulders a bit and followed Leo out the door and down the walkway to the Residence.

The security guards let them in and a porter took their overcoats, telling them to go on in, the President was expecting them.

"Good evening Mr. President," Leo said holding the door open for Josh to enter the room. The President looked up over his reading glasses from the thick governmental report he was reading. "Leo. Josh."

Josh stepped forward and stood at attention. "Mr. President, I would like to apologize for my behavior in the Oval Office last Friday. It was totally improper and I sincerely apologize. I have no excuse for my actions."

Leo shot a startled glance at his deputy and then to the President. Josh had an excellent excuse. The President kept his eyes focused on Josh.

"You don't think having post-traumatic stress disorder is a reason to loose your cool?"

"It's not an excuse..." Josh replied softly. "I should have been able to--"

"Josh!" The President stood up and walked across to Josh, grabbing his arm and forcing him to look at him. "Josh," he said softly, " I should apologize to you. I got you shot. You just wanted to serve your country..."

"No! Sir... Mr. President, it's not your fault."

"And it's not yours either, Josh. Come on... sit with me." He led Josh to the sofa. Leo chose to remain standing by the door to allow the President the chance to talk to Josh semi-privately.

Josh and the President sat down on the sofa and the President moved his hand from Josh's arm up to his shoulder.

"Mr. President... If you want my resignation..." The President did look up at Leo that time. He knew Leo had assured Josh that he'd continue to have a job. They hadn't realized that Josh would still worry.

"Josh. You have a job as long as I have a job. Leo spoke for both of us."

"But, I wasn't allowed in any meetings over the weekend."

"Josh, you were in no condition to be attending meetings."

"The Secret Service didn't bar me?"

The President hesitated.

"They did." Josh assessed.

"Just until you got help. They needed to know you weren't... you know..."

"A threat to you."

"More like a threat to yourself. They needed to know how you cut your hand, and no one believed that glass story." The President shook his head and smiled gently. Josh was a terrible liar.

"I... I put my hand through a window..."

"Yeah." The President nodded, confirming he'd already heard. He moved his hand to the base of Josh's neck. "I am sorry, Josh. CJ said maybe we should all get some psychological counseling... That the press was commenting on it, like they were expecting we would... We were just so intent on showing everyone how damn resilient we were. We're Super-Democrats! We could get shot at --or shot-- and bounce right back. No keeping us down! No, sirree, Bob! Not us! We come back twice as strong. We take the House, the Senate, and pick up a few governorships to boot!" President Bartlet gave a brittle laugh. "We concentrated so hard on those races... We threw ourselves into our work... Like we thought the harder we worked the further we could distance ourselves from the shooting. But we ran so far and so fast that we ran smack into it."

"Yeah..." Josh blinked and slowly looked down at his bandaged hand. "Stanley said I was reliving it. I wasn't... I couldn't remember it. What happened that night, I mean."

"Yeah. And you had to concentrate on just getting well physically..."

Josh nodded, "So once I no longer had to think about that..."

"It came back with a vengeance." The President concluded, rubbing his hand along Josh's neck and shoulders. He felt for Josh who was so similar to himself in his ideals and passions. Over the last two years the staff had become like an extended family to him. He'd come to love them all in their own right, but he saw a little more of himself in Josh. He identified with the younger man's struggles with idealism and ambition. Some people just saw the ego. Some the ruthlessness, some the unruly tongue. But he, Jed Bartlet, would be proud to say 'This is my son.'

* * * The end

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