Rating: PG
Pairing: Toby/Donna
Spoilers: Everything to be safe
Feedback: Makes my day
Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.
Archive: At my site The Band Gazebo (helsinkibaby.ahkay.net) Anywhere else please ask first.
Summary: Toby's thoughts on the last night of the Bartlet Administration
Author's Note: Third in the Expectations trilogy - companion piece to I Thought It Would Be Me and I Never Thought It Would Be Him
The bartender hands me a Jack Daniels and a Whiskey Sour and I nod and thank him. As I turn around to head back to where I came from, I hear a familiar voice behind me. "Hey there Pokey."
I know that voice well, and turn towards its owner with a genuine smile on my face. "Andrea," I greet her, knowing from the tone of her voice, the look on her face that she's got something to say to me, waiting patiently, well, as patiently as ever I do, for her to come out with it.
"You look well."
"As do you."
It's then that she comes closer to it, and I must say, I'm surprised that it took her this long. Not that long tonight, but I'm sure it's been building in her for two months now. "I hear you're going back to New York."
I nod. "It'll be good to be closer to home," I tell her.
"I heard about your Dad," she tells me. "How is he?"
"Good, he's good. Complaining that the girls have him under house arrest, so you know, things are getting back to normal."
She laughs lightly at that, no doubt thinking of all the times that she saw my dad yelling at something; all the times that she told me I was doubtless my father's son. "And you're going to teach at NYU?"
"I am."
"It's a good school."
"It is."
She's working up to it slowly, but there's not much longer left. "And Donna's going with you?"
And there it is.
"It's hardly unexpected Andrea," I tell her quietly. "We are engaged."
She looks down at my left hand, at the place where I once wore her ring. I swore that I'd love her forever when she put it on me, and I meant that at the time. And even after she'd left, even after we divorced, I wore that ring for years, hoping against hope that she'd come back to me. I always did say that I'd never get married again.
Then the incomparable Donna Moss came into my life.
I didn't think much of her at first. She was just another volunteer who appeared in the campaign office one day, who followed Josh around and tried to keep him in line. I didn't realise just how much she was keeping him in line, what a good job she was doing, until she was gone one day, and Josh told us that she'd left, that she'd gone back to Wisconsin. He then proceeded to fall apart, professionally speaking, for the six weeks or so until she came back, going through several assistants and generally making a pain of himself. Then she walked back in and got him back on track. Not only that, but she kept him there, an even more impressive feat.
I knew right then that there was something more to her than some ditzy college dropout. Any woman - no, scratch that, any person - who can keep Joshua Lyman on the straight and narrow has to have a spine of steel and the mind of a genius.
It's not that I thought of her all the time, or went out of my way to observe her. But I just couldn't help it. After a few weeks on the campaign, we all knew that Josh would be lost without her. After a few weeks in office, everyone in Washington knew it too. It was rare to see Josh without Donna somewhere near, telling him where he needed to be, what he needed to do. Rare to walk through the halls of the West Wing without hearing "Don-NA!" being bellowed at high volume at least five times a day.
It's hard to pinpoint when we all realised that she was in love with Josh. Even harder to realise when it was he fell in love with her. But we did, and we all realised that they were both as clueless as each other. Which CJ and I rationalised as a good thing, because God knows, the last thing we needed at any point in either term was the Deputy Chief of Staff dating his assistant. Even if it was something genuine and true, which it was, we knew that the press would turn it into a scandal, and we didn't need that. We had scandals enough without the press making one up.
The moment I realised just how much Donna loved Josh is etched into my memory though. It came in a small waiting room at GW, when Josh was in surgery and we were waiting to hear if he'd make it or not. The doctor was telling us that we should leave, because it was going to be a long night, or that they could make us comfortable at GW, when she came in. She was breathless, her eyes bright with worry, and she was babbling a mile a minute, never a good sign. And we all realised, CJ and Sam and me, that she didn't know about Josh. And the two of them looked at me and I realised that I was going to have to be the one to tell her. I didn't know what to say, so I just kept it simple.
"Josh was hit."
And she just looked at me, as if I was speaking Urdu or something. "Hit with what?" she asked.
I never did get up the nerve to ask if anyone else heard my heart breaking for her.
The look on her face then…I hoped never to see anything like it again.
I thought that she'd fall apart. But she proved just how much I underestimated her when she took charge of Josh's recovery. She supervised his meds, stayed with him at night, gave him enough work to keep him from going absolutely stir crazy, but not enough to overtax him, and operated as his own personal jailer - his words, not hers. Anything that Josh needed during his recuperation, she supervised. There's no doubt in my mind that he would never have got through it as well as he did without Donna.
And then that Christmas, when he fell apart, when we were all so worried about him, it was Donna who figured it out. Donna who went to Leo and told him her suspicions, Leo who shared them with the rest of the Senior Staff. And it was Donna who took him to the hospital that Christmas Eve, who kept an eye on him all over the holidays.
More and more I was learning that this was indeed a strong woman, fearless in fighting for what she believed in, for the people that she loved. But then, she could say something or do something that showed how fragile she was, how vulnerable she could be. There was a dichotomy there that I found intriguing, and I had the feeling that I wouldn't mind knowing more about her.
She showed once again how strong she was when she heard about the President's MS. She was the first person on an assistant level to know, and I know that because I told her. I know that Josh wanted to tell her, but he was dragging his feet over it, operating I think on the assumption that she would fall apart, that she wouldn't be able to handle it. I, of course, was sure that she would, so I took charge, calling her into my office. I'm not sure what I was expecting her to do, but she just took it on the chin, and the first thing she asked was if the President was ok, if he was in any pain. After that, she just got on with it and went back to work. I found out later that she'd arranged for cots and blankets to be set up in one of the basement rooms because she knew that we'd be working late. That impressed me more than I can say; that she thought of everyone else in the midst of her own worries and fear, that she proved once again her ability to handle anything that life threw at her. So when Josh came to me later and asked me how Donna had taken it, I was able to honestly tell him "If everyone out there takes it the way she did we may be okay. If a few more people in here took it the way she did, that'd be all right too."
In the months that followed, the hearings, the campaign, she kept on proving how tough she was, how strong. And while we worried about everything else, we never worried about Donna, because she was rock solid.
At the start of the second term, I noticed something. That while Josh still seemed to be carrying a torch for Donna, she didn't seem as concerned about him anymore. Oh, she still did her job, still acted as his de facto shadow going about from place to place, but it just seemed to me as if something had changed in her.
That was proven to me when she marched into my office one Friday in the early evening, Ginger in tow. I asked her if I could help her and she told me that she was fine, but that Ginger clearly wasn't fit to be at work. And I blinked in surprise and looked, really looked, at Ginger for the first time that day. At her red nose, her streaming eyes and pale skin, to say nothing of the tissue clutched in her hand and realised that Donna was right. "You look terrible," I told her. When she croaked, literally, a sarcastic "Thanks," at me, I realised just how bad she must be feeling. Ginger is sassy yes, but she's never sarcastic, no matter how far you push her.
I began to ask her if she was finished typing up the papers for me, but Donna interrupted me, saying that she'd do it, if I'd allow Ginger to go home, that Josh was tied up on the Hill and that her own stuff could wait. Before I knew what I was agreeing to, she'd got me agreeing to that, and also to paying for a cab to take Ginger home.
When the two of them left the office, my head was spinning. And I found myself thinking back to the first time I'd seen Donna, how I'd dismissed her as someone who'd never last the pace on the campaign, and how obviously wrong I'd been. How she was the strongest of all of us, and how I really wouldn't mind getting to know her better.
When she came in with the typing, I thanked her, and she admonished me for not taking more notice of the assistants, that Ginger had been struggling all day. I didn't tell her that there was one assistant in particular that I was taking a lot of notice of. But I found myself asking her if she was on her way home - after all, it was nine o'clock on a Friday night; she probably had plans.
"Yeah." She stretched her arms as she replied, a rueful grin on her face. "Josh called and said he's not coming back, so I'll try to salvage something of my Friday night...takeout and a movie I think."
I don't know who was more surprised by the next words out of my mouth. "You want to grab something someplace?"
"Excuse me?"
I more than shared her surprise, because I didn't have a clue that I was going to say that, but once I'd committed, I had to follow through. "I'm asking you if you'd like to get dinner someplace. Now. To say thank you for helping Ginger and me out."
She tilted her head and wrinkled her nose, obviously considering the idea. "Somewhere non-takeouty?" she asked, sounding hopeful. "With real knives and forks, that aren't plastic?"
I laughed at that, and taking it to be a yes, stood up and grabbed my jacket. "There might even be tablecloths."
"Last of the big spenders," she joked as we walked out of the office.
She followed me in the car to a nice Italian place that I knew, and we got dinner and we talked. Mostly about work at first, but gradually we began swapping more personal stories, about families and friends and what we did with the hour of so or free time that we had every week. I told her a little about Andrea, and she told me about Doctor Freeride, and we didn't leave until they were putting up the chairs. She told me that she'd be fine driving home alone, but I knew the crime statistics in this city, and insisted on following her home. She wouldn't have any of it though, and finally I got her to compromise, by telling her that I'd ring her when I got home, and that I'd keep ringing until I talked to her, to be sure that she got home ok.
And that's just what I did. The first time, I got her machine. "Hey, it's me. I told you I'd call you, so I am. Give me a call when you get this."
The second time, the machine picked up again. "Hey, still me. You know what to do."
About five minutes after that, the phone rang, and I could hear her smiling on the other end. And we didn't talk for long, just for a couple of minutes, but it was a good conversation. And when I hung up the phone, I realised that I hadn't enjoyed myself so much in a long time, and that I wanted to do it again.
So the next morning, after temple, I went to her desk, feeling more than a little ill at ease, hoping that she hadn't been putting on a brilliant act the night before, that she was feeling the same way I was. "I had a good time last night," I told her, and while it may not have been the smoothest conversation opener, she smiled and told me that she had too. That made me smile, gave me the courage to ask, "Want to do it again some time?"
She smiled up at me and said, "I'd love to."
That was when things started, and I was determined that I was going to take this slowly. I didn't want to rush things and ruin our friendship, nor was I prepared to make things awkward between us at work. Plus, I still wasn't sure how she felt about Josh, although when we were together, I was sure that she was over him, that she wouldn't be with me unless she was. I was just as sure though, that he was still in love with her. That, and my own track record in relationships meant that it was our fourth date before I kissed her, and even then, it was on the cheek. I didn't know at the time, although I do now, that it drove her crazy. The first inkling of her impatience that I had was on our ninth date, when I dropped her home and came in for coffee. On my way out, I made to kiss her on the cheek again, but she must have decided that she wasn't having any of that, because as I moved away, she grabbed me by the arm, pulled me around and kissed me on the lips.
I swear, there were fireworks.
She did the exact same thing the first time that we spent the night together. Her roommate was out of town and she had me over for dinner, and made it perfectly clear what her plans for the evening were. And I'd let her dictate the pace the entire course of our relationship thus far, so who was I to refuse her now?
That night was the first night that she told me that she loved me. And I told her that I loved her too, and that I wasn't just saying it because of where we were. She said that she wasn't either, and I believed her.
As happy as I was though, I knew that we were going to have to face reality sooner or later. That we were going to have to tell people. "We should probably tell CJ first," she said, probably having heard CJ's "I'm your first phone call" speech on many occasions, and also mindful of the fact that CJ was one of my oldest and best friends. I knew however, that she was wrong. We were sitting at my kitchen table over coffee one morning, and I took a deep breath before I spoke.
"You need to tell Josh."
I could tell that she was surprised, also that she knew I was holding something back, and that she wasn't sure what it was. "Why?" she asked.
Taking another deep breath, a deep down part of me still afraid that this revelation would cause me to lose her, I told her. "Because he's in love with you."
She was stunned. Of that, there was no doubt. "What?"
I couldn't see her look like that and not touch her, so I held her hand. "He's in love with you. I think he has been for a long time, but he's only recently realised it. Just like I know that you were in love with him." She began to say something there, but I knew whereof I spoke, and shook my head, silencing her, needing her to know that I accepted her, no matter what. "I know that you're not anymore. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here with me now. I know that. But I also know that you did care about Josh, more than you ever let on to anyone. And you need to take all that into account when you talk to him."
I could tell that she didn't believe me. That she didn't want to believe me. But she promised me that she'd tell Josh first.
I knew that she'd wait until the end of the day, and waited in my office for her to come to me. I saw Sam leave, and had an inkling that he and Josh might be heading out somewhere. And six minutes later, and I know just how long it was because I was looking at my clock constantly, the door opened and in she came. She turned around and closed the door, and I was already halfway over to her by the time she turned around to face me. "How'd it go?" I asked her.
She tried to speak, but I could see that she was shaking, and suddenly, she looked near to tears. So I did the only thing that seemed appropriate and put my arms around her, holding her as she sobbed into my shoulder. All the while, I was wondering what the hell Josh had said to her to have her this upset, and I seriously contemplated finding him and Sam and dragging the information out of him by any means necessary. My confusion was in no way alleviated by the fact that she told me that Josh had taken it pretty well, that he gave us his blessing. Then she told me that I'd been right that morning, and that even though she wanted to be with me, she hated hurting Josh. So I kissed the top of her head and took her home, running her a bubble bath and ordering her favourite take out meal, doing all that I could to make her feel better.
Knowing for sure that Josh and Sam both knew, I told CJ the next day, and she was furious. She asked me if the two of us were out of our minds, if we knew what the press would turn this into, and I told her that we didn't care. And she asked me, more quietly then, what about Josh? I outlined the situation to her, didn't hold anything back and there was sympathy for all three of us in her face when I was finished.
By the next week, everyone knew about us, and we went public at a benefit for the Childhood Leukaemia Foundation a month later. CJ worked the press beautifully the next day, reminding the press that the White House didn't comment on the personal lives of its staffers. Of course, it didn't stop there and she was asked a follow up question, then another and another, finally ending up with the question, "Isn't the White House worried that some people would consider this an example of a Senior Staffer exercising undue power and influence over a younger, more inexperienced staffer?"
CJ fixed the reporter in question with as imperious a glare as I've ever seen from her, and in my office, watching with me, Donna clutched my hand tightly, either to reassure herself, or to hold me back, I'm not sure which. "No, the White House is not concerned about that. Because anybody who would think that Toby Ziegler would do such a thing, obviously doesn't know Toby Ziegler very well. And anyone who thinks that she would allow such a thing has obviously never met Donna Moss either." She closed her briefing book with a snap and exited in high dudgeon, as Donna and I whooped in delight, exchanging high fives with CJ when she came into my office seconds later.
Danny did an exclusive, talking about us in a way that moved Donna to tears, and we were left alone to get on with our lives after that. For much of the last year, we were living together, and I asked her to marry me a couple of nights before Election Day. She'd been worried that I was going to go to New York without her, and I'm slightly ashamed to admit that I may have let her go along that way of thinking when I actually did the proposing.
I was hoping that we might be able to organise a wedding before we left for New York but it quickly became clear that there wasn't going to be enough time. So we decided that Donna would go back to school, and that we'd marry when she graduated. For the last two months, we've been planning the rest of our lives together, and I've never been happier.
She's across the room from me now, wearing a red dress that looks amazing on her. It's not low cut or short or anything close to it, but it's been driving me to distraction all night, and what's more, she knows it. As if she can feel my gaze on her, she turns and looks at me now, grinning at me, her smile never faltering even when she sees who's standing beside me.
Andrea chuckles, reminding me that she's standing there. "You really are crazy about her aren't you?" she asks.
It's such an obvious understatement that all I can do is nod. "I really am."
She shakes her head and smiles at me, kissing my cheek. "I'm happy for you Toby." Then she fixes me with a mock glare. "Don't screw it up."
And I laugh, remembering hearing those words in a VFW Hall in Nashua over eight years ago, hardly believing how things have changed for me since then. I tell Andrea that I have no intention of screwing anything up, and go back across the room to my lovely fiancée, slipping my arm around her as I hand her her drink, resisting with difficulty the urge to trace patterns with my hand on the material at her back. That might lead to thoughts that can't be acted on with this many people in the room.
So I think back instead over the last eight years, and the man that I was then and the man that I've become. And I thank God for this phenomenal woman that I've found. If you'd asked me eight years ago, I would have told you with certainty that she'd find the love of her life in the Bartlet White House.
I just never thought it would be me.