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    Author: Liza C.
    Title: Talking and Packing
    Beta'd by: Kim
    Summary: 2nd in the 'Talking' Series, a missing
    scene from Transition.  
    Follows Talking and Nakedness



















    "Man, is this place a dump."  Sam looked around Josh's
    apartment with disdain.

    "Thanks. The maids have the decade off."

    "I'm just sayin', no wonder you're so fried.  You know
    what they say: a disordered domicile is a reflection of
    the mind."

    "Disordered domicile? No one says that; you just made
    that up."

    "Yes, I did,” Sam admitted. “But I'm pretty sure it's still
    true."

    "Do you want something to drink?" Josh asked, heading
    towards the kitchen.

    "Sure."

    Josh called from the refrigerator, "I have water and…
    water."

    "How about some water?"

    "Coming right up." Josh emerged with a bottle of water
    and tossed it to Sam before turning to study his
    suitcase.  It was lying open in the hall near the small
    laundry room.  He was a man used to living out of a
    suitcase; he could usually pack in ten minutes flat.  But
    packing for a vacation?  That had him at a loss.  "Thanks
    for coming over; no way I would have had time to pack
    if we'd gone over everything in the office."

    "No problem.  Shoot."  Sam cleared a spot at the dining
    room table in order to sit down.  

    Josh wandered out from the hall, holding a pair of
    threadbare trunks.  They were light blue with a faded,
    white Hawaiian flower print. An Ocean Pacific label hung
    by a thread from one of the short-short legs. "Do these
    still work?"  

    "Did they ever?" Sam shot back with a look of mock
    disgust.

    "Seriously."

    "Fashion advice?  I thought we were going over things
    related to, you know, transition and governing."

    "Aren't you equally qualified to do both?" Josh asked
    wryly.

    "Actually, yes.  And I can tell those aren't a day under
    twenty years old… I'd say circa 1984?"

    "The fact that you know that scares me."

    "Okay, so you haven't had a real vacation since you
    were… the age of that garment, but I thought your mom
    had a pool in Florida. Surely you've visited her in the
    last 20 years?"

    "Yeah, I think I had another pair and left them there.
    Probably newer than these..."

    "I would hope so.  Throw those in the garbage,” Sam
    instructed. “Buy new trunks when you get there. Trust
    me; you're not going to pick up any women on the
    beach wearing those."

    Josh sized them up and then decided that although he
    wasn't looking to pick up any women, he was looking to
    impress one in particular. He tossed them in the
    direction of the garbage, not the suitcase.

    "The President-elect has some very… strong ideas about
    Kazakhstan." Josh got down to business as he shoved a
    stack of haphazardly folded T-shirts, fresh from the
    dryer, into the suitcase.  "If CJ crawls up your ass about
    it, just let her blow off steam. Remind the President-
    elect that he's not in office yet, but at this point I think
    we're going to have to let him slug it out with the
    President."

    "Okay."

    "I probably don't need one of these, do I?" Josh asked,
    holding up a dry cleaning bag containing a tan-colored
    business suit.

    "No." Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

    "Right. As I told you earlier, Lou Thornton is on board as
    Communications Director. She knows the campaign staff
    inside and out; can help you get a handle on everyone.
    She's good. Really good."

    "Looking forward to meeting her… I'm sure I must have
    seen her on TV during the campaign… is she the one
    who's got that whole…"

    "Whole?"

    "The whole angry lesbian thing happening?" Sam asked
    reluctantly.

    "Angry, yes; lesbian… apparently not so much…" Josh
    shook his head and tried to shake the election eve
    revelations from his mind. It didn't work. "Which leads
    me to Otto."

    "Which one is Otto?"

    "The one… today… with the yelling."

    "Oh, right."

    "He's young, but a helluva speechwriter. Talk to Lou, of
    course; look at some of his work and see what you
    think, then see if we can't get him started writing.  He's
    still a little green to handle an Inaugural address by
    himself and you're going to be… busy."  Josh took one of
    his own cards from his wallet and scribbled a name and
    number on the back.  "If you think he's going to need
    help, here's a guy who can help polish."

    Sam squinted at it. "Bob… is he any good?"

    "The best,” Josh reflected a bit sadly. "Give him a call."

    "Okay."  Sam put the card into the front pocket of his
    jacket. "What else?"

    Involuntarily, Josh squinted, and his voice took on an
    unsure, breathy quality. "You… uh… remember Donna
    Moss?"

    Sam just looked at Josh incredulously.

    Misreading Sam’s expression, Josh tried to jog his
    memory. "She was my assistant back when we were in
    the… uh… White House.  Blonde, talks a lot, legs from
    here to Mexico."

    "Josh, I've been gone awhile, but I didn't go through
    some Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-type thing
    to get rid of the West Wing years."

    "Huh?"  

    "Jim Carrey, Kate Winslet… where they erase specific
    parts of the…" He trailed off at Josh's blank look.  "When
    IS the last time you saw a movie?"

    "On the… uh… plane back from LA, they were showing
    something… with someone in it.  What's your point?"

    Sam snorted and replied dryly, "If you'd gotten the
    reference, you would realize that I was trying to indicate
    that of course I remember Donna."

    "Oh… good." Josh's voice squeaked a little and he
    nervously started twisting a pair of Bermuda shorts he
    should have been folding.  "She's… uh… working for us.
    Worked on the campaign."

    "I know. She's great on TV.  Stephanie thinks she's
    funny."

    "Stephanie?"

    "My fiancée."

    Josh paused, letting that register for a second before
    breaking into a smile. "Samuel and Stephanie
    Seaborne?"

    "Yeah, so?"

    "That's a lot of alliteration happening in a very short
    space." Josh grinned.  "Did you fall for her because you
    knew you wouldn't have to re-monogram your towels?"

    "Re-monogram my towels? Who has monogrammed
    towels?"

    "I'd bet all the money in my pocket that you do."

    "Okay, maybe. But I received them as a gift," Sam
    defended, before quizzing in an amused tone, "Do
    people actually consider monogram issues when
    choosing a life mate?"

    "Just something… someone said to me once."  Josh
    smiled, thinking back to a misdirecting Donna. They
    really had a lot to talk about.  "Unless she's not taking
    your name?"

    Sam shifted in his seat.  "She wasn't going to… for
    professional reasons, actually. But…"

    "But…"

    "If… and I'm still saying if… we stay in DC, she did
    mention that she might as well take my name, since she
    doesn't have a professional reputation already built up
    here under her maiden name."

    "Well, see, that's reason enough to take the job right
    there."

    "Come on," Sam groaned.

    "You come on. What man doesn't want his woman to
    have his name?"

    "His woman? That's a little barbaric.  It's really
    astonishing that you're still single."

    "Admit it."

    "Okay." Sam smiled sheepishly. "It's a plus.  But if you
    repeat that, I’m going to deny it. So you were saying
    about Donna?"

    "Yes, Donna…" Josh repeated, not exactly sure where to
    go from there.  Telling people was rather new.  In fact,
    Sam was the first.

    "You want me to offer her a position while you're gone?"
    he prodded.

    "Not exactly.  Actually, I think she's going to take a
    position with the future First Lady."

    "Really?"

    "Chief of Staff," Josh announced with an unsuppressed
    grin, and pride in his voice.  Now that he'd accepted the
    idea of her no longer working for him, he had the
    necessary objectivity to acknowledge what she'd
    accomplished professionally in the last year.  She'd
    taken an amazing journey and he was proud of her.

    "Good for her. That's terrific," Sam enthused before
    giving Josh an appraising eye. "You sure you're okay
    with that?"

    "What? Why wouldn’t I be?" Josh asked a little
    defensively.  Mostly because it wasn't that long ago that
    he wouldn't have been okay with it. "It's a great position
    for her."

    "Absolutely, I know. I just remember…"

    "What?"

    "You were always sort of proprietary when it came to
    Donna. I would have thought you'd want her working
    with us."

    "I do, I actually offered her Deputy Press Secretary…"
    He puffed his cheeks out as he exhaled. "But I want
    what's best for her."

    "Very mature." Impressed, Sam nodded, before a
    concerned expression marred his features. "But we don't
    lose her right away, do we?”  

    "I'm not sure when she'll start with Mrs. Santos, but it's
    not right away."

    "Oh, good." Sam exhaled with relief. "While you're gone
    it'll be nice to have a familiar face around.  Someone
    who can mouth names of the staff when I forget them in
    meetings."

    "Yeah, she's not going to be available for name-
    mouthing." Josh burst his bubble, but he didn't sound at
    all sorry about it.

    "Why?"

    "At least for the next week."  Josh said each word
    carefully, hoping Sam would catch his meaning.

    Sam knit his brow together and studied Josh for several
    seconds. Despite the mental and physical exhaustion
    from which he was currently suffering, Josh suddenly
    looked ten years younger.   He was biting his lower lip,
    but his dimples were still out in full force.  His hands
    were clasped behind his back and he was sort of
    bouncing-- rocking back and forth from his heels to his
    toes. Finally, the light bulb went on over Sam's head.

    "Well, I'll be damned. You do have a life!"

    "Trying to get one." Josh stopped trying to suppress his
    grin and allowed it to spread fully across his face.

    "You and Donna? Seriously?"  Sam arched one eyebrow
    at him.

    "Seriously."

    "Huh."  Sam let the notion sink in. "And she knows this
    isn't a work trip."

    "What do you mean?"  Josh demanded with a trace of
    indignation.

    "I mean, you're not luring her along with you under the
    false pretense of this trip having something to do with
    governing this great nation of ours."

    "You think that's the only way I'd get her to go with me?"


    "No; if I remember correctly, I think she'd follow you to
    the ends of the earth. God knows why.  It's your ability
    to… you know, get off your haunches and make a move
    that I'm questioning."

    "I can make a move."

    "You can?"

    "I can.  But admittedly, up until today, all the moves
    have pretty much been made by Donna," Josh confessed
    a bit sheepishly.

    "Of course. So how long has this been going on?" Sam
    asked in what could only be described as a teasing, yet
    fascinated, tone.

    Josh glanced at the date on his watch. "About eight
    days."

    At that, Sam choked on the water he'd been sipping.  
    "Eight days ago would have been…"

    "Yeah." Josh nodded once.

    "Election Day."

    "Yes.  Although…we did kiss for the first time three
    weeks before that." Josh paused thoughtfully. "Hey, that
    was my move. I kissed her first." His voice was
    triumphant, as if he'd won a contest.

    "Yeah. Nine years after you met a woman, you worked
    up the nerve to kiss her. Impressive." Sam ribbed him,
    but his tone was good-natured.

    In response, Josh picked up a balled pair of socks from
    his suitcase and threw it at him. "You know as well as
    anyone it was complicated."

    "Because you made it that way."  Sam caught the socks
    easily and then tossed them back into Josh's suitcase.  
    "Seriously though, congratulations. I think that's
    terrific.  I always knew you two were crazy about each
    other."

    "You did?"

    Sam shook his head in disbelief. "Josh, everyone knew."

    "Everyone?"  Josh's jaw dropped open in awe.

    "Maybe not everyone.  But many, many people. I
    certainly knew."

    "Why didn't you tell me?"

    "Because you knew, too," Sam said matter-of-factly,
    before conceding, "And because you're not wrong; it was
    complicated."

    "I guess deep down I did know."  Josh stared at his
    suitcase for a few seconds before turning serious and
    looking back up at Sam. "Do you think I'm going to be
    able to do it?"

    "What?"

    "Do this job and have a life." It was a balance he hadn't
    thought too much about until lately.  But the fact that
    he'd been hit over the head by about half a dozen
    people in the last day, telling him that he was incapable
    of that balance, had struck a nerve.  He didn't want to
    be that guy anymore, but deep down, he feared he
    might not have a choice.

    "That's entirely up to you… and that's what you have to
    remember. You…" Sam pointed at him. "Have to make
    time.  You prioritize. You hire good people and then let
    them do their jobs.  You take a vacation every once in
    awhile, preferably at least once a year. You come in
    early, but you actually go home at night.  You don't sit
    in that office waiting for a crisis; you leave and then go
    back in if you need to.  And if you lose perspective,
    which you inevitably will once in awhile, I'll remind you."

    Josh nodded several times, digesting what Sam was
    saying.  The way he put it, it actually seemed doable.

    "It's also important to attempt a life with someone who
    gets it and shares your passion for it," Sam added a
    minute later.

    "Your fiancée gets it?"

    "Yeah, I really think she does," Sam answered
    wondrously, as if it were a truth he was just realizing
    himself.  "In a way Lisa never even tried to."

    "Good," Josh replied as he watched his old friend seem
    to make a revelation or two of his own.

    "It helps that she's a dyed-in-the-wool Democrat and
    during the campaign, had a bit of a political crush on
    your candidate."

    "*Our* President-elect," Josh corrected humorously.

    "You're going to like her, Josh."

    "I'm sure I will."  Josh glanced at his almost-packed
    suitcase and thought about the woman with whom he
    was going away.  He added softly, "If there's anyone
    who's going to get it, it's Donna."

    "Very true, she did put up with you for a lot of years."

    "Yeah, she really did."  Josh met the other man's eye
    with a look of sincerity. "Thanks, Sam. For coming and
    staying and the vacation idea… even for the fashion
    advice."  

    "You’re welcome," Sam replied genuinely and then
    motioned to the table littered with the mainstays of
    Josh's life over the last few days. His laptop and
    BlackBerry lay among the remains of crinkled coffee
    cups, Red Bull cans, and antacids of all shapes and sizes.
    "What about this stuff?"

    Josh thought for a second before replying emphatically,
    “It all stays."

    "Good answer," Sam replied and then shook his head in
    disbelief. "I can't believe you actually thought I might
    have forgotten Donna."

    Josh admitted sheepishly, "That might have been more
    about me not knowing how to tell people about us."

    "I get that. But still!  Me not remember Donna? You
    know, I told her I was thinking of running for Congress
    before I told you."

    Josh's eyebrows arched in surprise.  "Really?"  

    "Yeah."

    "Hmm." Josh looked at him oddly and then shrugged.

    "What?"

    "On that note…" Josh cleared his throat awkwardly,
    decidedly out of practice when it came to broaching such
    issues of male-bonding. "I was just thinking… why didn't
    I know you were engaged?"

    "Why didn't I know you were with Donna?" Sam batted
    the question back into his court.

    "In all fairness, it's been eight days and nobody knew
    what the hell we were doing… least of all me."

    Sam nodded in acknowledgement of the statement’s
    validity.

    "It's just… if you get engaged, I want to know," Josh
    continued, his voice a little rough.

    Sam starred at the table a minute and then offered him
    a half-smile. "You were busy. I was busy."

    "Yeah…"  Josh nodded.  "But that's part of my getting-a-
    life thing, too. Let's not do that again."

    Sam looked at him appraisingly and then smiled
    brightly. "Deal."

    The End.

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