Title: Two Fathers
Author: The Housekeeper
Rating: PG.  One swear.
Spoilers: None. Or, well, kind of The Crackpots and These Women
Disclaimer: I am not making a profit from this. All characters belong
to Aaron Sorkin, John Wells, NBC, etc., etc. The White House belongs
to George W. Bush (to my eternal chagrin).
Archive: Sure, but toss me an email.
Author's Notes: Right. So this was a Leo McGarry Ficathon fic.
Requirements were "for a political/current affairs issue to be at work
there. Also, Toby, if you can work him in," no post-Sorkin, no Will
Bailey, at least 750 words, and for Josh-friendship. I hope it's in
the parameters of the ficathon itself 'cause I don't know for sure
(It's not strictly Leo/Josh). It was written for Kangeiko. I hope you
enjoy it!
           NOTE: This takes place during the first Bartlet campaign.
It's in third-person, but it changes main characters from time to
time. And why did I tell you that? You can figure it out. As usual,
super-duper thanks to awesome-beta Caz, who beta-ed this on such short
notice, it's not even funny. Big round of applause for Caz!

- - - - - - - - - -

"So what is it with you and Leo?"

Josh looked up from marking in the margins of whatever he was reading
and paused, his brow wrinkling. "Huh?"

"You and Leo."

"What about it?"

"You have this... thing that I don't know about and I need to know if
I'm going to be working for either one of you."

"Toby-"

"This is not one of the things we argue about. This is one of the
things you tell me and then we move on."

Josh stopped again, rubbed his hand over his face. "I can't."

"Is it a thing that you don't talk about?"

Josh closed his eyes in an attempt to ward off a memory poking at him
insistently, and smiled a little, sadly. "I'm not a writer. I don't
define things for a living."

Toby decided to ignore the simplified description of what he did.
"What can be so hard to define?"

"What do you call a father that's not your father but is more than a
father?" Josh would have expected anyone else to try to find something
to say, but Toby knew too much. Toby, whose life had been built from
words, knew when no words at all was best, because words had a
tendency to sound empty.

Toby, for his part, could see Josh had something more to say, and so
he waited. He saw Josh open his mouth to say it - or try - but
something made him stop.

Josh had lost the battle against the memory and let it wash over him,
hoping it would be quick. But nothing about Leo ever was.

"Hey kid."

"Hey." The boy's voice was hoarse, tired. Old.

"Mind if I sit?" The only response was the quick shake of a head, but
the man would take that right now.

They sat in silence for a long while on the back stoop, but the cold
seeping up through the cold concrete of the steps failed to rouse
either of the men from their thoughts - because both were men, but one
had become one far too quickly.

"Must be hard," the older one remarked eventually.

"Mr. McGarry-"

"Leo. I'm not your girlfriend's father."

The remark failed to ignite even the hint of a smile that had once
been full and easy. "I don't want to talk about it," the boy continued
stubbornly, refusing to let the subject or the mood of the
conversation change, because although the smile had faded, the
tenacity had only become stronger.

"You will eventually." Leo paused, considered his words. "Or maybe you
won't. But you should. And when someone tries to make you, I hope you
get angry. I hope you scream and throw things and then spill your guts
to them. Because anything is better than feeling numb, than feeling
nothing. And when you're done saying everything you need to say, I
hope you apologize and break down in tears and let them hold you. I
hope you start to heal."

"Men don't cry," and the soft, hoarse voice - not even a whisper - cracked.

The older man stood, dusted off the seat of his pants. "If you want to
talk about it, Josh," he whispered, not willing to break the silence
of the boy's words, "I hope you come to me."

And he walked away. He didn't turn, didn't see the tears running down
the boy's face.

"Josh?"

"I was seven when Joanie died."

Toby didn't dare to breathe, didn't dare to probe the emptiness that
he sensed within his friend. "Joanie?" he asked quietly.

"My sister."

And Toby felt his heart break. "Your sister died."

"Yeah. It was... a fire. And I... look, it's not important."

"I would beg to differ."

"It's not what we're talking about."

"No. No, it's not. But maybe it should be."

Josh smiled a tiny smile that held so much sadness that Toby wanted to
clasp him on the shoulder, give him a connection to another human. It
was as close as he was comfortable to coming to comforting Josh the
way Toby's older brother had comforted him - holding him close, late
at night when the thunder erased the line between toughness and fear.
"It's a story for another night. For another time."

Toby nodded. "Okay."

"I loved my father, and he loved me and I knew that. I always talked
to him about my day and the Mets and what Mom was cooking for dinner
and what was he doing at work and could I have just one more bedtime
story? My father was my father, but he was also Joanie's father and
what was I supposed to do? I couldn't talk to him anymore because
there was an expression in his eyes every time he looked at me that I
was too young to understand. And my mother walked around the house
like... some sort of, of - soulless... wraith, and she seemed so frail and
so white that I thought she would break if I touched her. So I
couldn't talk to her. And it's not something to say to your friends
when you're seven, especially when it feels like you just turned
forty-seven and those friends are still trading baseball cards."

"And Leo...?"

"Was there." Josh smiled again, that sad, sad, small smile. "He was
just... there. All the time."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." And then, because there was nothing else to say - "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Josh said. "Me too."

- - - - - - - - - -

Leo's head was pounding. His back was sending spasms of pain into his
sides and his brain felt like mush. Despite the fact that he had left
earlier than both Josh and Toby the night before, he had only gotten
two hours of sleep. Resolving never to bring work home again - a vow
he knew he had no chance of keeping - he glanced at the clock.

6:30 am.

Great.

"Margaret!"

Her head popped around the door in that way it had of doing so, as if
it was bouncing from the other side of the room through the crack
between his door and his doorframe. "What can I do for you?"

He groaned at her peppiness and rubbed his head. Opening his mouth to
speak, he was pleasantly surprised when she beat him to it.

"Tylenol," she said, as if repeating an order. "Got it. Be right back."

Well, thought Leo, I'm definitely keeping her when... for as long as I
can. He looked back at the polling results he had been reading and
tried to concentrate. He really did. But somehow, he felt immeasurable
relief when a knock at the door interrupted him. Margaret, he knew,
would have knocked once and come in. Jed would have skipped the
knocking bit. So, it must be someone he would rather talk to right
now. Although he wouldn't complain if it was Margaret with the
Tylenol. "Come in!"

Josh poked his head in hesitantly and looked from side to side. Leo
rolled his eyes. "When I said, 'Come in,' I meant to come in. As in,
all of you," he added testily when Josh just stared at him with his
head cocked to the side and his eyebrows scrunched up.

"Oh. Oh right." The younger man walked in, leaving the door open
behind him, and stood in the middle of the small room, fidgeting, for
a moment.

Leo was quickly losing patience. His head hurt and his eyes hurt and
his back hurt and it was 6:30 in the morning and dammit he wanted to
go home already. "Well?"

"What?"

Leo sighed and looked down, shaking his head in exasperation. "Did you
need something?"

"Uh, yeah." Josh paused. "Or, well, it's just this thing, really-"

Giving up, Leo ripped off his reading glasses and threw them down on
the desk in frustration. "For the love of God, Josh, would you just
spit it out already and then leave me alone?"

Josh's eyebrows flew up, but he was saved from answering by the
appearance of Margaret at the door. Knocking once, she walked in and
handed Leo two pills and a bottle of water. "Thanks," he said.

She nodded, then turned to glare at Josh. "I'll be right outside," and
somehow she managed to direct it at Leo while still glowering at Josh.
Swallowing, Josh took a step back raising his hand in front of him.

"Sorry, sorry. You weren't there, so I just... knocked..." he trailed off.

"Hmph," she said, and stormed out, shutting the door firmly on her way.

Leo tried desperately to hide the smile that Josh always somehow
managed to bring to his face. "What was it you wanted?" he asked
gruffly.

Josh had now had time to gather his thoughts together and his voice
was surer. "Oh, that," he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He
was grinning like an excited toddler. He hadn't changed much since he
was one, Leo thought.

"Whoa. Careful there, kid." The man set the grinning child back on his feet.

The boy shook his head of soft curls and took a few more steps,
reaching out to get his balance-

"Can I have an assistant?" The boy, grown up, pulled him out of the memory.

Leo looked at him in amazement. "You want someone like Margaret?"

"Yeah." Josh paused, looking at Leo in puzzlement as the older man
lost the war with the smile. "What?"

"You were just practically on your knees begging for her not to hurt you."

"I was not!"

"You know, a little fear might not be a bad thing."

"I am not afraid of Margaret!" Josh squeaked. Realizing he had spoken
a little too loudly, he forgot himself, immediately shooting a
terrified glance at the door. "Do you think she heard me?" he
whispered to Leo.

"Doubt it," Leo lied blandly.

"Good."

"So. Where are you going to get an assistant?"

"I already have one."

"You... what? How did this happen?" As Josh opened his mouth, Leo shook
his head and waved his hand. "You know what? I don't want to know. You
already hired an assistant? And then you came to ask me if you could?"

"Yeah, basically," said Josh in his sounds-about-right voice.

"So the point of you asking me was just a courtesy to tell me you
already had one."

"Uh, yeah." This time it was the isn't-it-obvious? voice. Leo realized
that Josh didn't see anything wrong with the situation. What bothered
Leo more, though, was that he didn't either. After all, it was Josh.
Leo realized he was just making a big deal out of it for show.

"We can't afford to pay her."

"I've got it covered."

"Or hotel rooms."

"She can share with me."

"Is that appropriate?"

"Sure. Why not?"

Leo shook his head again and smiled a little at Josh's eagerness. "I
hope she can kick your ass."

"Oh, you bet she can."

"Alright then."

"Okay." But Josh didn't move.

"Is there something else?" Josh put on his 'Do I have to?' face.
"Josh?" Leo prompted.

"It's just... bothering me."

"Ah, God, Josh. We talked about this yesterday. It's nothing! They got
a donation."

"It's got to be a pretty big donation. But I looked over their finance
disclosures and there was nothing there."

"So it's recent."

"Leo, all the Republican candidates are spending thousands of dollars
on ad buys and campaign events. No one spends that much money this
early in the game. No one. They're courting national votes before they
even get to the convention! All but one of them is wasting their
money. You know just as well as I do that that means they've got a
ridiculous amount of it stuffed away for later, and that they're all
getting it from the same place - the Republican National Committee."

Leo pulled off his glasses in frustration. "What do you want me to do,
Josh? What do you want me to say? There's nothing I can do to fix
this. It's too recent to be in the disclosures. That's it."

Josh shook his head. "No. No, it's not. We both know we'd have heard
something about that big a donation - even if it was from more than
one source."

Leo sighed, but didn't deny it. "Josh. There's nothing I can do."

Josh paused as if for a breath, but then his shoulders slumped and his
mouth quirked sideways. "Yeah. I know," he sighed. "Okay then. I'll
just-" he pointed to the door.

"Yeah."

Leo watched as Josh opened the door and left. As he approached
Margaret's desk, the redhead looked up.

"Boo!" she said.

Everyone on the floor burst out laughing.

Somehow, Josh was able to send the same glare at everybody
simultaneously. "Funny," he snarled, and stomped into his office.

- - - - - - - - - -

Leo heard them before he saw them.

"You can't seriously be considering putting that in the speech, Toby."

"I'm damn well more than considering it."

"Come on! You know as well as I do that it's not going to fly with
them! It's for exactly everything they're not! We have an audience
here. We're not throwing around policy like we're already in the White
House. We need their votes to do that, first!"

"Sam, this needs to be said, so we're going to say it."

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Leo's voice stopped them
both. There was a blessed moment of silence before they both started
talking at the same time.

"He has to tell the truth, Leo - it's how we got this far and if we-"

"He wants to put it in the speech! We're courting votes from these
people, not trying to-"

"Enough!" Leo boomed out and as the two of them immediately shut up,
he thought tiredly that he was getting pretty good at that. He rubbed
his hand over the top of his head and wondered why Tylenol was so
crappy. "Only one at a time, please?"

Toby spoke up. "For the speech to the insurance groups on Sunday, we
have to talk about taxes."

"On the companies?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Well, it doesn't have to be taxes, but if we win, we're going to have
to find a way to get some money from them. It won't inconvenience
them. Some of these companies and conglomerates are huge, Leo. They're
just huge."

"No, I know. I meant, why tax them?"

"To back up people's life insurance if the companies tank."

"I thought you just said they were huge."

"I did, which is why this needs to happen. There are millions of
people who've trusted these companies, and they lose everything if
they go under. Stuff happens."

"Yeah." Leo paused. "And you want to put it in the speech to the
insurance groups?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that a little bit suicidal?"

"Oh, more than a little bit."

"We need their votes, Toby."

"No, we don't. Not if we get a hundred more votes from average
Americans for every one we lose from these guys."

Leo leaned back and rubbed his eyes. "We're shooting ourselves in the foot."

Toby didn't say anything for a moment. "It's the right thing to do."

Leo nodded. "Sam?"

Sam shrugged. "You just argued my side for me."

Leo sighed and looked back at Toby. "I'll talk it over with him."

Toby nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

"Yeah." He waved his hand at the door and Sam followed Toby from the
room. Then, "Wait!" Leo called, and they both dutifully came trooping
back, poking their heads into his office. "We're having a staff
meeting at 7:30. It's on your schedules."

"Yeah...?" asked Sam.

"It's 7:20. You might as well stick around. Margaret!"

Her head appeared between Toby and Sam's. "Yes?"

"Get Josh and C.J., would you please?"

"Sure," and she was off.

There was an uncomfortable silence as Toby and Sam walked in and stood
around, waiting. We're going to have to get everyone to like each
other, Leo thought. When did the little things get to be everything?

Thirty seconds later, C.J. was at his door. "Where's Josh?" he asked
as she walked in to stand near Toby.

"Coming, I assume." He wondered how her voice was always like
unruffled satin. He figured that it must be what made her good at what
she did.

"Coming," he repeated. "He's always coming. Just never here."

But as he finished speaking, he saw Josh walking toward them in that
ridiculously fast, haphazard way he had that no one could figure out.
Except that someone had, because there was a very young, very blonde
woman walking next to him, looking aggravated. They stopped just out
of earshot and conversed heatedly for a few seconds, before she rolled
her eyes, sighed exasperatedly, and shoved a blue folder at Josh
before walking away.

Josh watched her retreating form for another second or so, then
finally sauntered over to Leo's office. "Hey," he said to the room at
large.

"Josh. Nice of you to join us."

He at least had the decency to look apologetic. "Sorry." He sounded
apologetic, too.

"Who was that?" asked Sam.

"Who was who?"

"That woman with you."

"Oh, her," said Josh. "That was Donna."

"Donna?"

"My new assistant."

Leo found himself pulled from the realm of not really caring. "That
was your new assistant?"

"Yeah..." said Josh, in that way he had that blatantly told whoever he
was talking to that he was wondering what he had done wrong.

Sam said what Leo was thinking. "No wonder you wanted to keep her so badly."

The room dissolved into snorts and chuckles as everyone tried to hide
their amusement by covering their mouth or looking at the floor. Josh
managed to gather his dignity and sound... indignant.  "Hey! She happens
to be very good at what she does!"

"She'd better be," chuckled C.J. "She's got the toughest challenge of
her life with you."

"Thanks, C.J. I appreciate that. Really, I do." Leo figured that Josh
was about four seconds away from sticking out his tongue at her.

"Okay, okay," he said, calming them down. "That's enough. Let's get
this started. Anyone seeing anything that could be a problem?" As Josh
opened his mouth, Leo thought it prudent to add, "Not you." Josh
seemed to have to physically restrain himself from doing something
juvenile, like making a face. "Anyone else?"

"Yeah." C.J. raised her hand. "I have a thing."

"A thing?"

"Well, yeah."

"Okay."

"You know the Governor's education policy announcement?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Well, we have it set for Tuesday. But Hoynes is doing a big rally on
Tuesday, and it's going to get completely drowned out by that."

"Josh?"

"Yeah." He shifted and cleared his throat. "Uh, I'll get into it. I
don't have much hope though."

"You know someone you can talk to?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Anything else?" There was silence for a long moment. Then Toby
decided to speak up.

"Sam uses punctuation like he's an eight-grader."

Sam glared at him. "Yeah? Well, Toby thinks that the more words we
use, the better the speech will sound."

Josh smirked, C.J. grinned, and Leo rolled his eyes. "For the love of
God, would you two grow up? You're worse than Josh and Mallory."
Josh's smirk suddenly slid off into mock offense. "You have to work
with each other. Learn to like it, or learn to deal with it."

"Fine," said Sam with all the attitude of a sixteen-year-old.

"Okay," said Leo. "That's it. Everyone out of my office. Right now."

There were murmurs of "Thanks, Leo," as they left and shut the door
behind them, and then there was silence. He sighed and drank some
water, loosening his shoulders and leaning back in his seat. The room
was dark and cool. He closed his eyes, just for a minute...

The door opened and Sam poked his head back in. "One more thing-"

"Out!" Leo roared, pointing outside, and Sam leaped out like his pants
were on fire.

- - - - - - - - - -

"I talked to Danny Concannon."

"Who?"

"He's a reporter. For the Post. He's covering our campaign."

"Why ours? Why not Hoynes'?"

"He asked to be assigned to ours."

"God, why?"

Josh shrugged. "Maybe he thinks we'll win."

Leo raised his eyebrows. "Okay, but... anyway, you were saying?"

"I talked to him."

"About what?"

"The rally thing."

"On Tuesday?"

"Yeah."

"What'd he say?"

"That he didn't have much hope either."

"Why not?"

"Well, we're not going to get Hoynes to change the date, and the press
is going to cover him without a doubt, 'cause we don't get much
coverage to begin with, so..."

"The only chance we have is to change our date," Leo finished.

"Yeah."

"The press isn't going to spin that like we're catering to Hoynes' schedule?"

Josh smiled crookedly. "Like I said, we don't get much coverage."

"Okay." And then, wanting to apologize a little for his continued
ribbing of the younger man in front of the others, Leo paused for
words as-

- sound filtered through the open door to the kitchen.

"Leo!" he heard Noah call. "Get in here! You're missing the party!"

"Nah, I'm good," Leo called back. "I'll stay in here for a bit with the kid."

He heard Noah laugh. "He's not your kid."

"No, but I got one on the way, so I haveta see how they work."

Another laugh. "Suit yourself."

But it was more than seeing how they worked. He was in awe of the
thing in front of him, simple yet so complex, the thing that tottered
precariously toward the other side of the room - and then fell over
again.

Leo chuckled, and it sounded like rich chocolate and hazelnuts. "Watch
it there, kid." He set the boy back on his feet, ruffling his hair as
he heard yet another call of-

"Leo?"

His head snapped up. "Yeah?"

"Did you..."

Leo understood. "Nah. Never mind. Go on. Wait - what're you doing?"

"I promised Sam I'd help him with the speech."

"God help us." Josh grinned, and Leo waved his hand at the door. "Go."

"Thanks, boss."

"Yeah, yeah."

- - - - - - - - - -

"So when did you get an assistant?"

"Huh?"

"Your assistant," Sam explained patiently to Josh, who was still
peering down at a sheaf of papers in his hand. "When did you hire
her?"

"Oh - I didn't."

"Wait. You didn't hire her?"

"No."

"So how is she working for you?"

Josh still hadn't looked up, and Sam saw him cross something out from
the middle of the page. "She kinda... hired herself."

"And you were just a pushover?"

Josh suddenly whipped his head up. "Don't tell anyone, 'kay?"

"Yeah, of course," Sam said, not really interested. "So when did you
not hire her?"

"Yesterday."

Sam nodded. "You paying her out of your own pocket?"

Josh had already looked back down, returning his attention to the
Governor's upcoming speech. "Yeah. She offered to pay her own way, but
I don't really think she can afford it."

"What gives you that idea?"

Josh raised his eyebrows but still didn't look up. "She said she'd
sell her car and sleep on the floor."

"Well," said Sam. "That's always a good indication. Hey, what are you
doing with section 22?" he asked as he saw Josh draw a huge X through
half the page.

"We don't need it.  It's repeated in parts in section 12, 16, and 31."

"It's different."

"That's your reason?"

"Well-" but he was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed
immediately by Josh's new assistant. Donna, Sam reminded himself.

"Josh, have you eaten?"

"Wha...?" Josh looked up immediately from the papers in his hand and
looked for all the world like a guilty schoolboy, even though Sam
couldn't remember him doing something wrong. Then again, with Josh,
you never knew.

"Have you eaten?" Donna repeated. "It's 9:30 already. Have you had any
breakfast? And coffee doesn't count," she added as Josh started to
speak.

Josh changed answers immediately. "Um... yes?"

"I don't believe you. I'm getting you a bagel."

"Ah-kay." Josh grinned and Sam figured he was way too happy to oblige.
Josh usually complained that he hated breakfast. "Sam, you want
anything?"

"Nah. I ate when I woke up, first thing this morning."

Josh looked disgusted. "Of course you did."

Donna, meanwhile, looked vindicated. "See?" she asked. "Sam knows
what's right. Maybe I should work for him. That way, if you have a
heart attack, I won't be out of a job."

"Heh. Funny!" Josh yelled at her retreating back. Then, even though
Sam was looking away and could only see Josh out of the corner of his
eye, he could swear that Josh stuck his tongue out. He shook his head.

"So, about section 22..."

- - - - - - - - - -

"Margaret!"

Her head appeared in the doorway, followed by the remainder of her body. "Yes?"

"What do I have?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"You have nothing."

"No, I know for sure I have something."

"You don't have anything."

"Margaret, I drew up my schedule for today all by myself, and it was packed."

"Yeah. I moved some meeting to tomorrow."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because you're going to work yourself to death. You're not young anymore."

"Well, thank you for reminding me."

"Really, Leo. We haven't been elected yet. You can take a couple
breaks - or you'll burn out before we do get elected. Go get a coffee
or something." She didn't wait for a response, pulling the door shut
behind her.

Leo looked the now-closed door. "This is why I make my own schedules!"
he yelled.

- - - - - - - - - -

"There should be a comma there."

"There should not be a comma there."

"Yes, there should be."

"It's optional."

"There's no such thing as 'optional' in grammar."

"Yes, there is. And this is optional."

"No, it's not! Put the goddamn comma in, Sam!"

"Toby, this is my section of the speech, and I can damn well do what I
want with it!"

"Okay. That's it." Toby straightened up from where he was leaning,
behind Sam's chair, taking the top sheet of the speech with him, and
started heading towards the door. "I'm going to Leo."

"I'm impressed with how much that sounded like, 'I'm telling the
teacher.' And you called me an eighth-grader."

He had to yell the last part of the comment, because Toby was already
out the door. Sam quickly stood up and jogged to catch up.

Toby looked at him sideways. "You here to tell him I'm wrong?"

"You are wrong." Sam said as they arrived at Leo's office.

Toby completely ignored Margaret, who was trying to say something, and
blasted through the door to Leo's office. Leo looked up, shocked, as
he heard what sounded like an elephant crashing through his door.
Luckily, he wasn't having a meeting with someone, or they would have
lost that person's support, for sure.

However, he didn't have much time to contemplate, as Toby immediately
said, "I can't work with this man."

Leo rolled his eyes. "What is it now?"

Toby handed him the page of the speech he was holding. "Paragraph
three. Sam insists there shouldn't be a comma in line five, which is
contrary to every grammatical rule ever written."

"The comma is optional," Sam said stubbornly.

Incredulously, Leo looked between the two of them. "It's a speech," he
said. "He says it out loud. No one can tell if there's a comma there
or not."

Toby and Sam looked at their feet and shifted their weight uncomfortably.

Leo sighed. "Look, if you want to bring me conclusive proof that you
hate each other, find something more than a comma, please." He pointed
at the door. "Go."

They went.

- - - - - - - - - -

"So, Sam asked you to help him with his part of the speech."

Josh looked up from a pile of papers at him. "So did you," he pointed
out. "And Sam's known me for longer."

"But I know what the hell I'm talking about. I just want your input on
the policy sections."

"Sam knows what he's talking about!"

"Sam uses imagery and metaphors and flowery language. If it was up to
him, all political speeches would be given in sonnet form."

"He's a great writer! He just needs to tighten up a little. He
complements you very well, I think."

"Want to know what I think?"

"No."

Toby ignored him. "I think that I complemented myself even better. Before."

Leo gave up on reading the report in his hand and glared incredulously
at the two men sitting in front of his desk. "I don't believe you two.
Would you shut up and do your work, please?" He didn't wait for a
response. "No. You know what? We're going to end this right now. Toby,
you were all alone 'before,' so it didn't really matter how damned
well you complemented yourself, because you can't do everything on a
Presidential campaign. Josh, ignore what he said about Sam. He's just
trying to see how much Sam can take. Once he realizes he can hold his
own, he'll accept that he's not going anywhere."

Toby shifted in his seat. "You do realize I'm right here?"

Leo was now the one who ignored Toby. "In fact, he's already realizing
it. That's why he's stepped it up."

"What are you, my psychologist?" growled Toby.

The situation was miraculously saved from getting worse by the opening
of the door and the arrival of what seemed like a mile of blonde hair
in the office. The head beneath the hair looked around at the three
tense men in their chairs.

"Josh, were you fighting?"

"No?" he tried.

"You better not have been."

Josh seemed to have recovered from his surprise and twisted around in
his seat to look at the door. "How did you get in? I thought Margaret
was out there and throwing everyone out."

"She let me in. She knows that I have to keep you in line."

"Oh, great," Leo found himself saying. "Now they've formed a tag team."

Donna thrust a styrofoam container at Josh. "I brought you lunch."

"Lunch?"

"Yes, Joshua."

"I just had breakfast, like, half an hour ago!"

"It's what normal people eat at twelve-thirty. Not that I'm assuming
you're normal."

"You couldn't wait until I was out of my meeting?" Josh asked, taking
the container anyway. He opened it and groaned. "Salad? Why'd you have
to get me salad?"

"Because it's good for you. Stop whining. I bet Sam eats it."

"Sam also eats breakfast."

"So did you, this morning."

"Only because you practically forced it on me! And Sam also uses
flowery language."

"Well, now I have no godly idea what you're talking about."

"That's cause I got a 760 verbal on my SATs," Josh smirked.

"Are you trying to impress me? Because it's not working." As Josh
opened his mouth, Donna shook her head. "Eat." She shoved a folder at
him. "You have a meeting with Conroy from the D-triple-C in half an
hour." And without waiting for him to acknowledge it, she left.

Leo rubbed the back of his neck, which was aching. Only then did he
realize that he had been following the conversation back and forth
like a tennis match. "From what Sam said, you were more than happy to
eat breakfast this morning. What happened between then and now?"

"It's salad, Leo. Besides, if Toby gets to be mean to Sam, then I
don't have to try to be especially nice to Donna. If she's going to
work for me, I have to see if I can handle having her around."

Toby grinned a little. "From what I saw, it looks like she's the one
handling you."

Leo stopped Josh from saying anything by speaking first. "Toby's
learning to like Sam, Josh. So that means that you already like Donna.
I can see that, too. Besides, she's right. It is good for you. And at
least you were right about one thing."

"What?"

"She sure as hell can kick your ass."

- - - - - - - - - -

"You want anything?" C.J. asked as Josh joined her in Leo's office.

Josh was looking at her strangely as she contentedly crunched on a
salad housed in a styrofoam container while not removing her attention
from the T.V screen. "I just ate," he said.

"So?" Her back was to the rest of the room, and she still hadn't turned around.

"How often do people eat, anyway?"

She turned her head, twisting around into an impossible position to
look at him. "You know what you are?"

"Highly intelligent and devastatingly handsome?"

She ran right over him. "Freakish. That's what you are. You're
freakish." And she turned back to the television.

"Thank you," Josh said. "I'll keep that in mind." He looked over to
where Leo was sitting, leaning back in his chair. "Did you need me?"

"No."

Josh cocked his head and did something far too flexible with his
eyebrows. "Then... why am I here?"

"Because you're not anywhere else."

Josh smirked. "Thank you, Leo, for telling me how matter occupies
space in this dimension, but what I was really asking was-"

Leo rolled his eyes. "Because Sam told me you weren't busy. Better?"

"Very much so. Did you want me to do something?"

"You know, Josh, we're running a Presidential campaign. Generally,
there are, in fact, things that need to be done."

"Such as...?"

Leo stopped for a moment. "Well, so I can't think of anything right now, but-"

"Ah ha!"

Leo ignored him. "But the point still stands. I mean, come on, Josh.
This isn't a cushy Congressional no-job job-"

"A 'no-job job'?" Josh opened his mouth to continue, but the budding
confrontation was rudely interrupted by the arrival at the door of two
loud voices.

"No, Sam, you need to listen to me. You're a loose canon."

Sam's voice was almost impossibly high, which was a sure sign that he
was having some difficulty controlling his anger. "I need to listen to
you? Listen to me, you jumped-up, arrogant, confrontational, elitist,
cynical, son-of-a-"

Okay, Josh thought. So he's having a lot of difficulty controlling his anger.

"Enough!" yelled Leo, and Toby and Sam fell silent. "It's enough. I'm
tired of hearing you two yap on and on and on like my mother-in-law."

"We were just having a philosophical disagreement, Leo," said Toby.

"We came to eat our lunch," Sam added, holding up a styrofoam
container identical to C.J.'s.

"Good thing too," said C.J. "It was getting unusually cool in here, for June."

Sam seemed to notice Josh for the first time. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I was wondering - did you see the report on the thing?"

"Yeah, I've sent a memo to your office. You know that the Senate vote
on 462 is coming up next week, and-"

Toby piped up. "Yeah, I have a meeting with Harris. Also, Grober from the DNC."

C.J. sat up and snapped her fingers, leaning over the back of her
chair and twisting around, trying to swallow her salad quickly but
ending up just speaking with her mouth full. "That reminds me. I
wanted a moment with Thruman's press office."

"I can set that up," said Sam. "I have a meeting with one of his aides
later in the week - on 462, actually," he added, looking at Josh.

Josh nodded. "Yeah, I was going to suggest that." He looked at Toby.
"You might want to tag along on that."

"I'm not 'tagging along' on anything that my deputy is running."

Leo's patience wore out. "Okay, that's it. Everyone needs to shut up
and let everyone else-" he held up his own styrofoam container- "eat
their lunch in peace. And when did my office become a congregating
point?"

Josh shifted uncomfortably. "Well," he started, "I guess since you
became all of our's boss."

Leo glared, but the tense moment was broken by a crude snort. Everyone
looked at C.J. but as she was still hypnotized by the TV, it took her
a moment to realize it. "Oh. Sorry," she said.

"What in the name of God is it now?" asked Leo.

"Well, it's just that Josh thought it was a slow day here. But the
Republicans are playing golf."

"No way," said Sam.

"Yeah. Check it out."

Everyone crowded around the TV in the corner of the room. An MSNBC
logo in the corner of the screen glowed brightly. A blue banner
running across the bottom proclaimed that the two men shown on screen,
shaking hands sheathed in golf gloves and passing off clubs to nearby
caddies, were Matthew Codner of the RNC and a Michael Handers. The
headline was something about Codner. He was the new guy that everyone
loved to hate. He knew all the right people, went to all the right
parties - and did just the right amount of ass-kissing to get him
promoted at an unheard-of speed.

"Unbelievable," said Josh. "Here we are, working like dogs-" he caught
Leo's disapproving look and revised his statement. "Well," he
conceded, "to a point."

Leo just shook his head. "Alright. Break's over. Back to work."

There were protests and groans as everyone headed towards the door.
Over his shoulder Josh remarked to Leo, "You know, I could swear I've
seen that other guy before somewhere."

"Nope," said Sam.

"For once, I have to agree with the eighth-grader, Josh. I don't recognize him."

Leo decided to give up the fight to make his communications department grow up.

- - - - - - - - - -

The knock was timid.

"Leo?"

He looked up, startled, and pulled off his glasses as he waved her in.
"What do you need?"

"It was just about the thing."

"Which thing, C.J.? I have a million 'things' and they're all-"

"The Tuesday thing."

"Oh." He nodded. "Right."

"So... what are we doing about it?"

Leo shrugged and replaced his glasses, looking back down at whatever
it was he had been doing. He wasn't really sure, but he knew that it
was probably somewhat important. Ah, hell. Who was he kidding? It was
probably the price of the paper napkins they were ordering for the
next event. Wait. He had been talking to someone. He looked up. Right,
C.J. He cleared his throat. "We're switching our date. No one will
ever really know anyway."

"Leo! Yes, they will. We've leaked it."

"Well, yeah, but nobody pays attention."

She opened her mouth to say something, but seemed thought better of it. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. It's fine."

"Okay then."

She nodded, then turned and left.

- - - - - - - - - -

"I thought I recognized that guy Handers from more than the headlines."

Leo looked up to see Josh leaning against his doorframe. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Or, from more than from the headlines we were seeing. I knew
I'd seen him somewhere else."

"And you're here to gloat?"

"No."

"So... why are you here?"

Josh walked in and collapsed into a chair on the other side of Leo's
desk. He rubbed his hand over his face. "Remember that insurance
scandal a year or two back?"

Leo snorted softly. "Which one?"

"The insurance conglomerate... God, I can't remember the name. Stilter? Stelting?"

"Stettler. I don't remember any scandal with them."

"Yeah. I knew it was a weird name. Anyway, the thing was going under,
but then their stock prices went up and they managed to pull back
together."

"Wait. Their stock prices went up?"

"Yeah. As if someone had bought thousands of dollars worth of stock.
And there was a whole big thing, because the CEO's mother worked for
Amelia Miller. Miller is her maiden name; she uses it for work. She's
married to the Republican Congressman from Tennessee-"

"John Codner."

"That's right. And John Codner is the brother of-"

Leo groaned. "Matthew Codner, who works at the RNC. Don't tell me..."

"The CEO of Stettler was Michael Handers. Who was just playing golf
with Matt Codner."

"Handers' mother works for Codner's brother's wife."

"Yeah."

Leo rolled his eyes. "Margaret!" She appeared almost instantly. "Get
everyone in here."

She hesitated. "Every...one?"

"The senior staff, Margaret!"

"Right away," and she disappeared before he vented any more frustration on her.

Within minutes, Toby, Sam, and C.J. had assembled in Leo's office.
"Okay," Leo started.

Good start, he congratulated himself. "So, Michael Handers played golf
with Matt Codner from the RNC today."

"Leo...?" asked Sam.

"Just wait," he assured them. "You probably know that Handers owns an
insurance conglomerate that was saved from tanking at the eleventh
hour by an unknown benefactor."  Sam and CJ nodded slowly.

"And...?" Toby prompted.

"It was Codner," Josh said quietly.

"You can't have any actual, you know, proof of that," C.J. pointed out.

"No," said Josh. "No actual proof. But lots of... kind of proof."

"How can you have 'kind of' proof?" asked Sam.

"You know," said Josh. "Circumstantial evidence."

"What, are we on a Presidential campaign or the FBI Files?" asked Toby.

"You know that circumstantial evidence doesn't hold up in a
courtroom." Sam, Leo thought. Ever the lawyer.

"Yeah," said C.J., "but we wouldn't be trying them."

"We shouldn't."

"We shouldn't what?"

"Try them."

"We're not going to, Josh."

"No, I meant... in the court of public opinion. We shouldn't release it."

"Why?" asked Sam. "What possible reason in the world would we have to
not release it?" He paused and Leo could see the exact moment of
realization. Sam answered his own question. "Because... the company
would tank."

"Yeah. Well," sighed Leo. "It's up to the Governor."

- - - - - - - - - -

"What about healthcare?"

"That's on Friday."

Jed nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Nancy."

The aide nodded. "Thank you, Governor."

Leo took that as his clue to come in, brushing past Nancy in the
doorway. "Good afternoon, Jed."

Jed turned around and smiled broadly. "Leo! What's happening? I
haven't seen you much today."

"I've been around."

"Sure. Hey, aren't you a half hour early?"

"Yeah. There were some extra things I wanted to ask you about before
we got into this."

"Things more important than your Daily Review?" He clutched his chest
in mock horror. "By the way, I still don't understand why we do this
every night when you brief me every morning."

"Well, it's because-"

"The world doesn't operate on business hours," Jed finished with him.
"I know, I know. Anyway, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"You know the speech you're giving on Sunday?"

"To the... insurance groups, right?"

"Yeah, that's it. Well, Toby wants to put something in about the tax
we talked about."

"The one that we would get from the insurance groups to stop big
companies from going under?"

"Yeah."

"He wants it in the speech? That's political suicide with these
people. They'll never listen to us again."

"No."

"But it's a good tax. It'll protect normal Americans from losing
everything. It's a great tax. It's the right thing to do."

"Yeah."

Jed grinned a little. "You're into the monosyllables, aren't you?" He
wasn't expecting a response. Leo raised an eyebrow, already see the
gears in Jed's head turning. His friend's face took on a considering
look, and then he nodded slowly. "I like it," he said. "It's ballsy.
Very ballsy. But I like that. And it's a good tax."

"Yes, it is."

"Yeah, okay. Let's do that. Show people we're not messing around. Was
there anything else?"

"Yeah." Leo paused. "One more thing."

Jed waited for the rest of it, but it wasn't forthcoming. "Leo?"

Leo let out a rush of air. "Josh came to me with this about an hour
ago. Do you remember what happened with Stettler Insurance Corporation
last year?"

Furrowing his brow, Jed nodded slowly again. "Yeah," he said, drawing
out the word, and pointed at Leo with his glasses. "I think I remember
something about that. They were going under and then got saved."

"Yeah. Well, the CEO at the time was a guy named Michael Handers. His
mother works for the wife of a Tennessee Congressman, whose brother,
Matthew Codner, works for the RNC. They played golf together today."

"Wait. Josh thinks that Codner spent tens of thousands of dollars on
stock that would most likely sink anyway, just to do a favor for his
brother's wife's employee's son?"

"Not just as a favor. Now he's got the financial support of a huge
insurance conglomerate - and he's using it. The Republican candidates
are going through huge amounts of money."

"Yeah." Jed paused. "So we should announce it, but if we do..."

Leo nodded. "Yeah."

Jed pulled in some air between his teeth and let it out slowly. "I
don't know, Leo. This is a tough call." He paused again. "It's a very
tough call. I don't know," he repeated.

Leo waited. Jed would either make a decision... or not. He knew that if
they won, Jed would have to make these kinds of decisions all the
time. But he also knew that now was not the time to start. It would
just freak him out.

Jed nodded. "You know what? I trust you, and you've put together a
top-notch staff. This is your choice.  Talk it over with them, then
make the final decision, and that's what we'll go with."

Leo nodded, feeling strangely disappointed. But that was okay. Jed
just needed some guidance, and he needed to settle in. He still hadn't
quite got his head around the idea that he was running for control of
the country. He would get better. "Okay. Thanks, Governor. Now, let's
get into this..."

- - - - - - - - - -

Josh found C.J. sitting in her office, staring, her gaze as blank as
the wall in front of her. He knocked. "Anyone home?"

She started. "Oh. Hey. Did you need me?"

He grinned. "No, not really. I'm trying to hide from my assistant."

C.J. snorted. "You have gone through a strange evolution today, my
friend. What's there to hide from?"

"Dinner."  He shuddered. "A healthy dinner. No fries or burgers or
anything. And don't people generally eat later than 5:30?" She smiled
a little, but still looked preoccupied. Josh cocked his head. "What's
up?"

"Oh, it's-" she waved her hand in dismissal. "It's nothing."

"If it was nothing, you wouldn't be sitting in your office staring at
the wall. By the way, what kind of color is this? I mean, it's not
quite yellow, and it's not really green, and it's too light to be that
ambulance color-"

"Pastel."

 "What?"

"It's not light; it's pastel. And Leo said the Tuesday thing didn't matter."

Josh paused. "But it does."

"No, I guess he's right-"

"No, I meant, you think it does."

She stopped for a second, hesitating, then nodded. "Yeah."

"So tell him."

C.J. shook her head emphatically. "No. Nope. He's the boss, and he
made a decision, so now it's my job to-"

Josh chuckled. "Hey, this isn't a business office. This is the big
leagues. Yeah, he's our boss. We win and he'll be our boss for four,
if not eight, years. But you know what? We'll be the senior staff. And
it's 'our job' to say what we think. He wants your opinion. Do you
think you'd be sitting here otherwise?"

C.J. looked away from him and waved her hand absently, but Josh could
tell she had almost relented. "I told him it was fine."

He paused, considering. "But it's not."

She let out a breath neither one of them had realized she'd been
holding. "No," she said, standing. "No, it's not."

And Josh watched her weave her way through the incredibly crowded
bullpen on impossibly long legs, heading determinedly at high speed to
Leo's office.

"I need to talk to you."

Leo looked up to see C.J. in his doorway and found himself wondering
what crime she had unearthed. "Yeah?"

"It's not fine."

Leo cocked his head, furrowed his brow, and scrunched up his nose. "What?"

"I'm going to talk about Tuesday, and you're going to listen." Leo
opened his mouth to say something - he hadn't thought about what - but
she held up her hand to stop him. "No, don't say anything. We can't
change our date. It'll look like we're unprofessional. It'll look like
we're unprepared. It'll look like we're in over our heads and have no
earthly idea what we're doing." Leo started to speak again, but she
mowed right over him. "Yeah, I know. We are in over our heads and have
no earthly idea what we're doing. But it can't look like that to the
press."

Leo knew she was right. "Okay," he agreed.

She didn't seem to hear. "I'm serious, Leo. We change our date and
that's going to be the story. We're catering to the Hoynes campaign.
We're not serious and even we think he's going to win. And suddenly we
have nothing. We've lost any momentum we've built up, we have nothing
going into the primaries, and the tables are turned.

"But if we stick with it, that's the story. We run our own campaign.
What we're doing on Tuesday is major - far more important than any
rally. And don't give me any crap about no press coverage, Leo. No one
'pays attention' because we don't treat them like they should. I've
been in this business a long time and I know how it works. We're
trusting the press to recognize that this is something real, and they
will. They're not machines. They're people, and so they'll cover it."

"Okay."

"I understand, but I just wanted to say my piece. Okay it is." She
turned to go and then stopped and turned back. "Wait. Okay?"

"Yeah."

"Wait. You said that...?"

Leo tried very hard not to grin. "Yeah."

"You could've said something!" but she was smiling, too.

"And risk more of your wrath?" He decided that it was all right to let
the grin out.

"Funny. And what're you laughing at?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, right."

"Nothing! It's just... you're going to be good at this."

The remark seemed to throw her off balance and she searched for words.
Finally, she settled on, "Thank you."

"It was well-deserved."

"Well..." She was struggling to find something to say other than "Thank
you" again, but she couldn't. So she said that.

Leo waved her away. "Yeah, yeah. Get out."

"Thank you, Leo."

- - - - - - - - - -

Toby and Josh arrived in his office at the same time. Toby sank into a chair.

"You... wanted me - us?" Josh changed words when Toby glared at him.

"Yeah. The Governor left it up to me, so I wanted your input."

"Nice of him to pass it off."

"Josh!"

Josh sighed and rubbed his palm over his face. "Sorry. I'm... sorry."

"Yeah. Okay. Well..."

"We have to release it," said Toby.

"No," said Josh. "We don't have to do anything."

"Then we're breaking the law as much as they are. And that's stupid,
because I want to release this. I want to get them, Josh! We can do
this. It is in no way bad for us."

"But it's bad for the people we're trying to represent! What do we say then?"

"We say that it was the right thing to do. How often does it happen
that what's right is also good for us? How often is it going to happen
if we win?"

"We release this to the press and every average Joe, minimum-wage
worker who's saved up enough money to buy life insurance for his
family will have to start all over! We'll ruin lives! We'll ruin
futures!"

Toby stood up and threw his arms out to the side. "We're not
discussing that. We're discussing releasing information that the
public has a right to know! Why aren't you considering that someone
running the campaigns for who will be our next President is committing
a felony? No, scratch that. Does it not matter to you that we - even
forgetting we're running a presidential campaign, here - would be
committing a felony by not disclosing this?"

Leo finally spoke up. "Toby's right, Josh. Right now, we have moral
imperatives to take this to the media. It's as simple as that. Justice
has to be done."

"But at what cost? Where do we stop? We're drawing a line in the
fucking sand, here! When do we say, It's not about justice; it's about
politics?" Leo frowned. Something wasn't right. Josh always thought
about the political ramifications of any action. Something was
different, but Josh didn't seem to notice as he plowed on. "Who's
going to pay the father who just lost his daughter so he can move
houses because he can't stand coming home to find she isn't there? If
he has to work overtime to get the money, who's going to take care of
his son? You going to step up?"

"That's not what we're talking about, Josh."

"That is - what we're talking about!"

Leo shook his head. "No, Josh. It's really not."

Josh froze suddenly, as if held in place by weights on his shoulders.
"No," he agreed in a whisper. "No, it's not." And as Toby watched
quietly, Josh deflated without a noise, running a hand through his
hair before sinking into a chair defeatedly. And as Josh looked up at
Leo, Toby quietly left the room.

He didn't get very far.

"What is it with Josh and Leo?"

"What?"

"What is it-?"

"I heard you."

Sam looked at him reproachfully. "So what is it?"

"You've known Josh for far longer."

"He doesn't talk."

"He talks. He talks often. Too much, I think. He talks all the time."

"Not about stuff like this."

"Why are you asking me? I just met him."

"Because you know things, even though you don't say anything about
them. You just... know them. People talk to you because you don't talk
back. You give them the silence to do what they want with."

"You going to start writing poetry? And don't end a sentence with a
preposition."

"So," said Sam, "what is it?"

"It's..." he sighed, searching for words for the first time he could
remember. "I don't have the words. Or, not that. It's just... I don't
think there even are words for it."

"Okay," Sam said, accepting that, but Toby could tell he didn't
understand, because to Sam, there were words for everything - words
could do anything. And he wondered if they would ever understand each
other, because Sam spoke with words, and Toby spoke with the spaces
between.

Sam nodded, turned, walked away. Toby realized he was beginning to
like him, but he didn't know why - yet. But that was okay, he was
learning. He did wonder when he would stop thinking of him as part of
Josh, as Josh's guy - wondered when he would get his own definition.

Toby hoped it wasn't for a while. For all that he was a writer, he was
beginning to see that some things shouldn't be defined.

- - - - - - - - - -

Josh was still there. Leo could see him working through the window of
his office, the newly-installed blinds splitting the light emanating
from there - the only light in the makeshift headquarters - into thin
strips. That light spilled onto the floor of the main area to meet the
moonlight angling in from the storefront window. It was snowing, for
some reason, in March, but Josh was from Connecticut and Leo was from
Chicago, and neither one of them wore sweaters even though the heat
had automatically turned down two hours ago.

He sighed, rubbed his head, and shuffled forward. He knocked twice,
quietly, on the doorframe and walked through, one step into the
office.

"You okay?"

Josh started, jumping a little, and looked up so fast that Leo thought
his neck would crack. "Yeah, of course. Why?"

Another step forward. "It might have something to do with the fact
that everyone left hours and hours ago, shortly after you were
screaming your lungs out and following Toby out of my office like you
were being chased by a mob of angry villagers with pitchforks." Two
more steps.

That won him a tired smile. "I just needed... a minute of quiet. You know?"

"Yeah." And then, because they were men and men didn't talk about
these things, he said, "You know," and he took another three steps, so
that he was right in front of the desk, "we have to decide. About the
thing."

Josh rubbed his face with his hand and looked up, blinking. "There's
not really very much to decide. You're right, of course." He sighed.
"Morally, we can't not say anything."

"You'll take care of it?"

"Yeah. I'll give Danny Concannon a blind quote. I don't want... I don't
want to be part of something this bad." His face froze. "Us. I meant,
I don't want us to be connected to this. Lots of people are going to
lose out because of this."

"Yeah."

"It's a victory. I know it is. We've stopped someone from committing a
crime, and plus, the Republican funding gets cut off. This is the
right thing. We're doing the right thing. I just wish it were possible
to do it without screwing half the people in the country. But it's a
win, Leo. It is. So why doesn't it feel like one?"

Leo chuckled humourlessly. "I have a feeling that when we get into the
White House, there are going to be a lot of those. And we're going to
have to screw a lot of people. But sometimes... you just have to swallow
it. And as long as we keep doing the right thing, no one can fault us.
As long as we still have morals, I think we'll be okay."

"Yeah."

"It's in the speech, Josh. He okayed that much."

"The... taxes on the insurance companies."

"Yeah."

"It's not enough."

"No."

"It's not going to help them."

Leo shook his head, a little. "No."

"I'm going to fix this, Leo. I'm going to make up for this."

 "I know you will."

"I will."

"I believe you." He watched as Josh's exhausted, defeated face lit up
again with passion and determination, and the next few words were lost
in a haze of memory.

The boy was almost at the other end of the room when he fell again.
But before Leo could even get there, he had picked himself up and was
heading for the opposite wall again.

Tenacity, Leo thought. This kid's gonna be something.

But the thought didn't get any further than that, because Josh had
reached the other side of the room, and Leo felt as if he had watched
him grow up, just a little bit. Noah missed it, he thought. How could
you let yourself miss something like that?

Josh took the final step and leaned both chubby hands against the
wall. And then he turned around, and smiled at Leo, dimpling his tiny
cheeks, as if he had just conquered the world.

And Leo thought that maybe he had. Josh's world, for a moment, had
been a trek to the other side of the room, a huge challenge, and he
had beaten it. And Leo found himself smiling back.

Then Josh smirked - he was nine months old, but Leo could swear that
he smirked - and smiled proudly at Leo's approval. And then he
laughed. And Leo felt his heart melt and knew that if he could offer
it to someone, he'd give it away to this kid who wasn't even his, just
to hear that laugh again.

"Alright then," Josh said.

Leo cleared his throat. "Alright."

"I'll see you tomorrow." As he turned to leave, though, he saw Josh's
face and it looked like there was a war going on behind it. And so his
steps - there would be seven of them - were slow and careful. Waiting.
He only took three.

"Hey - Leo?"

"Yeah, kid?"

A fleeting smile passed across Josh's face at the old nickname. "It's
just... ah, never mind. It's nothing."

"Okay," Leo said agreeably, because he knew Josh and he knew that this
wasn't the end. Four steps, this time, before the words spilled into
the silence. He was at the door.

"I guess I've always had two fathers."

"And I've always had two children." The reply was even, unfazed. Immediate.

Josh looked up at Leo and then back down, and when he spoke, his voice
was too soft. "After the... after - after Joanie, he was different, and,
and..." Josh gave up on that part of his sentence. "I could never
forgive myself for thinking you would be better than he was."

Suddenly, Leo could barely get words out. "You didn't have to," and
his voice cracked.

Josh paused, looked up at him. "Every time I fell, you were there.
Every time. Every time, you set me back on my feet."

"Nah. Nah."

"Yeah."

"The Congressional hearings and the alcoholism and... you picked me up
more than I can ever thank you for."

"No. No, Leo. It was always you."

Leo only nodded, once, in acknowledgement of the words if not in
agreement with them, because he couldn't speak. Josh looked away, back
at his work as if nothing astounding had happened, seemingly
satisfied, and made a couple of marks in the margins of whatever it
was he was reading. Leo nodded once, again, even though he knew the
man in front of him would not see, and turned, and walked, one step,
out of the office.

He closed the door behind him, softly, and smiled tremulously. His
breath hitched in his throat, mourning for the people they had once
been. But his soul was soaring, because his little boy had learned to
walk.

And now, Leo thought, now, he's learning to fly.

- - - - - - - - - -

The End