Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Leo McGarry was used to silence. The yawning, gaping stillness of early morning in the White House, before many of the other staffers arrived. It was, in fact, a welcome reprieve from the usual hustle of the White House, something else he’d also gotten used to ‒ but today would be different. The day after Christmas was always quiet. Calm. Next week, the Senate would reconvene. The upcoming leadership breakfast brought uneasy bipartisanship, but joy and peace would quickly be replaced by contempt, arguments, and mudslinging. The new year also brought the State of the Union with it. Sam and Toby were already hard at work on the foundations of the speech, and he did not doubt that it would surpass the last one with flying colors.

But none of that was what Leo was currently worried about. Instead, as he walked through the halls toward his office, his steel-blue eyes roaming over empty desks, the sound of Christmas carols still in the air, he found himself worried about Josh. The week before had brought literal blood, sweat, and tears, along with an overwhelming heap of anxiety and sadness, to the usual Christmas festivities. Toby, bless him, had been diligent in trying to bring Christmas spirit to the White House, even though he was Jewish, but the pall of tragedy still hung in the air. Like the lingering taste of burnt food, their ordeal in August, and Rosslyn, soured everything with a bitterness that was hard to shake. Josh had exploded in front of the President, and all Leo could see were the echoes of his own pain and anguish. The weight of it, that heavy, vice-like grip, had yet to loosen in his chest.

He hoped Josh had a good Christmas away from everything. He hoped the younger man had gone home to see his mom and decompress but, if he knew Josh, he wouldn’t have left D.C. Leo absently wondered if Donna might have dragged him back home, kicking and screaming the entire way. The thought made him smile briefly to himself as he unlocked his office door and pushed his way inside. Donna was good for Josh. She’d seen what no one else had. She’d gotten him help. He hoped she would continue to look after his deputy in the coming days and months.

Once inside his office, he tuned the various televisions there to the news stations. Removing his silk scarf and jacket, he seated himself behind the desk. For a moment, he let the stillness creep into his bones and loosen the tension in his shoulders. Then, he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his glasses, getting down to work. The first item of business was the abbreviated summary from Stanley Keyworth, a therapist from the American Trauma Victims Association they’d brought in to talk to Josh. He knew that patient-client privilege was something Stanley wouldn’t break. But in this job, in order to keep their noses clean, Stanley would have to concede to a level of transparency, and Leo was grateful he’d been willing to comply.

Josh had told Leo he’d been diagnosed with PTSD, but reading it in the file made the tightness in his chest, the worry for his young deputy, intensify. He’d promised Josh that, so long as he had a job, Josh would too. Leo was determined to keep that promise, but he wasn’t sure just how long he’d be able to. If the newspapers caught wind that Josh had PTSD, it would incur a flurry of op-eds and articles that would call him, and his duties as a high ranking official, into question. He couldn’t bear to consider that happening, but the potential was there. He knew who would be leading the charge if the information were to leak.

A soft sigh punctuated the silence, and he ran his weathered fingers through his short-cropped, grey-blonde hair. He wasn’t sure how he would keep the information out of the public eye, but he was determined to do so. If that meant changing the structure of the White House and its administration, so be it. He knew that was a possibility. Doing so, in order to put more emphasis on mental health, was something that few previous administrations had even toyed with. Then again, few of them had dealt with gun violence and the strain that it put on their minds and emotions.

Leo sat there for a moment while the TVs droned on, his gaze continuing to flick over the file without really reading it. Instead, he spent several minutes thinking carefully before coming to the conclusion he’d have to speak to the President. He picked up the phone and dialed an all too familiar number.

“Hello?”

Leo could hear the sleep in Jed’s voice, and he winced. The watch on his wrist read six-thirty on the nose. He really needed to get better at his timing.

“Good morning, Mr. President.”

“Leo, do I need to remind you what time, or what day it is?” Jed’s voice was stern despite being low and husky with sleep.

He shook his head, out of reflex, even though Jed couldn’t see it. “No, sir.”

“I’m gonna do it anyway. It’s the day after Christmas. Unless China has burned to the ground or California has sunk into the ocean, there’s absolutely no need for you to be at work.”

Leo knew that as well, but he had things that needed to be tended to. “I need to apprise you of the Josh situation.”

There was a long stretch of silence as Leo waited for Jed’s response. Even over the phone, he could feel the weight of those words settling around him, and maybe foolishly, he could imagine the President feeling the same way.

“Mr. President?” Leo asked again.

“What about Josh?” There was a resigned sigh in Jed's voice.

“I’ve read the summary ATVA provided.”

“And you’ve talked with him as well, haven’t you? Josh, I mean.”

“I have. He’s been diagnosed with PTSD.”

The other line went ominously quiet. A shiver ran down Leo’s spine as he waited for Jed’s answer.

“I was afraid of that. I’ve seen it before.”

The silent implication hung heavy in Leo’s office. He knew exactly what Jed meant, but he tried to tamp down the memories of Vietnam as quickly as they rushed to the forefront of his mind. Any mention of the war, and the hurt he suffered, always made him feel the crushing weight of ‘what if?’. What if he had never gotten help? What if Abbey and Jed never saw the warning signs that things were spiraling out of control? What if they hadn’t been there at all? He tried not to think of the way Josh looked as he was yelling at Jed that day in the Oval Office. Had it not been for him, where would Josh be in a few months? A few years? He pushed those questions out of his mind and buried them deep, in the closed-off well of emotions he kept locked up and tucked away.

“Dr. Keyworth said he could return to work after the holidays.”

“Good, that’s great. Did he say anything else?” Jed asked curiously.

In the pause between Jed’s question and his response, Leo took a moment to consider his staff, to try and remember if he’d seen anything off with them in the past few months. Things seemed to go back to normal after Josh was released from the hospital, but he knew that hadn’t been the case. His deputy had been away from work for three months now, recovering. It was odd being in the office and not feeling his manic energy, or hearing his voice, or listening to him yelling across halls at Donna.
He thought of Donna. Bless her for seeing the signs, but had she seen any in the other staffers since? Or had it just been Josh? He knew the girl had feelings for Josh. Leo also knew she was smart, smarter than he’d given her credit for. They all seemed to underestimate Donna during all of this. They underestimated her in everything, and he felt like he was just realizing that.

“No, sir. Just to watch out for him, and that ATVA was assigning him a new therapist.”

“Did they say who? Anyone we know?”

“He didn’t. I was thinking about giving him a call.”

Leo leaned back in his chair, mulling over the fact that if a therapist were to come to the White House, they would have to keep quiet about it, lest Danny Concannon started snooping around. But it wasn't just Danny they would have to worry about, and he knew that too. He would have to think about how they would keep the knowledge that one of their staff was seeing a therapist quiet. He knew Josh had seen one before, but it had stopped before the President took office. Would client-patient privilege extend as far as secrecy?

“I was thinking,” Jed began, as Leo sat up straight in his chair, “you know, maybe we should have a consultant on hand. Just in case, God forbid, something like this happens again.”

“You think it will?”

“It could. Gun violence is gun violence, Leo. There are plenty of men and women out there who hate my guts, or hate that Zoey is dating Charlie, or any other number of reasons I don’t pretend to understand.”

"You think a consultant would make any difference?"

"Having a consultant on mental health would help the administration handle it better if it happened again. Not to mention help with managing the stress of working in the administration.”

“They knew what they signed up for, Mr. President.”

“I don’t care what they signed up for, none of them signed up to be shot at, and Josh certainly didn’t sign up to almost die. I don’t care what my job is or what his job is. He didn’t deserve the hand he was dealt.”

Leo knew Jed had a point. He sat back in his chair and examined the ceiling. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he attempted to ward off an impending headache, but he could feel it already building behind his eyes, a dull throb threatening the rest of the work he had scheduled for the day.

“Do you think I should call ATVA and ask Dr. Keyworth if a consultant would be worth pursuing?”

Leo’s thoughts kept drifting back to Josh and how he would handle the idea of a mental health consultant being so prominently on staff. He knew that his deputy wouldn’t be keen on the thought, but what else could he do?

Jed’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Call him and ask.”

“And if he thinks it’s a good idea?”

“Ask him if he wants the job. Josh seemed to respond well to him. Anyone else might pose some problems.”

“Yes, sir.”

There was a pause before Jed piped up again. “Leo?”

“Yes, Mr. President?”

“Go home after you call Dr. Keyworth. There’s no need for you to be in the office. It’s Christmas.”

Leo sighed, but the sound held a tinge of fondness as he finally sat back up in his chair. “I think I’ll stick around and work on a few things first.”

“Until Mallory pulls you away?”

“She’ll be with Jenny today.” The Chief of Staff tried not to feel bitterness as he spoke those words. This wasn’t the first Christmas he’d spent alone and it wouldn’t be the last, but for some reason, it hurt today more than it had the previous year.

“Ah, yeah.” A pause. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Give the girls my love.”

“If you’d have joined us like we asked you to—”

“You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“I’ll tell them.”

“Have a good day, Mr. President.”

Leo settled the phone down on the cradle and tried not to think about the daunting task ahead of them.

He tried to stop the round-robin of fear that constantly circled his thoughts, and flipped through a Rolodex on his desk in search of Stanley’s number. When he found it, he picked up the phone again, dialing as he did so, then hung up. It was only four am California time, and while he had no qualms waking the President up ‒ it was his job after all‒ he did take issue with the idea of waking up a civilian far earlier than polite on the day after Christmas.

Instead, Leo got to work on the wording for the proposed guidelines for the upcoming leadership breakfast. He knew that both the Senate and the House majority leaders would come up with their amendments, but knowing his staff, and particularly Toby, he would need to add more to keep the breakfast as amiable as possible. Not that he envisioned that going very well, considering the Dems didn’t control either the House or the Senate this year. His job for the new year was already shaping up to become one of the longest he’d have in office, already topping the disastrous six or so months when his personnel file had been leaked this year. He tried not to think about that.

At about ten, having worked in the blessed quiet for four hours, he finally dialed Stanley’s number and let the tone sound in his ear. For the second time in two weeks, the fear of the situation tried to latch onto him and percolate in the depths of his stomach. The thoughts he’d managed to push away while working came back with a vengeance. What if Josh wasn’t strong enough? What if he ended up like I did after the war? Hitting rock bottom and turning to solace at the bottom of a bottle? That thought made him sick as he listened to the ringing of the phone.

That drone, the anxiety-inducing sound that set his teeth on edge, suddenly stopped as Stanley’s voice emanated from the earpiece.

“This is Stanley Keyworth. How can I help you?”

“Dr. Keyworth. Leo McGarry, here.”

“Mr. McGarry,” Leo could hear the surprise in Stanley’s voice and the faint rustle of a newspaper being closed and set aside. “It’s the day after Christmas. Do you ever take a break?”

Leo bristled a little at Stanley’s tone as he took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair. “I took a break yesterday. That’s all I needed.”

Therapists and their damned, ever-knowing smirks. He could almost hear it as Stanley spoke again. “One day is hardly a break.”

Leo wondered if Stanley had an overwhelming urge to provide him therapy over the phone. He liked the man, and the fact that he had managed to help Josh, but he never enjoyed therapists himself. He’d never met one he was fond of anyway. Stanley was maybe the one exception, but then again, he’d never met with him. Just a few words here and there over the phone. He hadn’t even talked to him the week before, after the session with Josh. Leo supposed that was a good thing.

“But don’t mind me; old habits. I apologize. To what do I owe the pleasure? Were my notes on Josh sufficient for what you needed?”

“They were. That’s not why I’m calling, though. The President and I spoke earlier today, and we wanted to consult with you over a matter we’ve been considering. If you have a moment, I’d like to talk to you about it.”

There was a pause before Stanley answered. “I have a few minutes.”

“The President and I were discussing whether having a mental health consultant on staff would be beneficial. In case something like Rosslyn happened again.”

“I’m sure you have your own people you can contact,” Leo could hear the surprise laced in Stanley's voice once again. “Democrats or bipartisan help that you’ve spoken to before. Why are you coming to me?” Leo didn’t answer. Stanley continued, “You’re worried about Josh.”

“He was apprehensive about speaking to you.”

“That is an understatement.”

“And we’re wondering,” Leo continued smoothly, despite the interruption, “If you think he would be reticent to the idea.”

“Of a consultant?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Yes, I believe he will be. You should be, too.”

“Don’t worry about us. We’ve been through worse scrapes with the news and media.”

“But you know that Josh will worry.”

Leo knew that all too well. “He’ll be worried about the perception a mental health consultant will create, yes, and I fear he’ll worry about his job.”

“Yes, he did mention that to me in far fewer words.”

The lull in conversation allowed Leo to debate the President’s statement earlier in the morning.

“Dr. Keyworth?” Leo asked, breaking the silence. “The President did express interest in offering you the job.”

“You couldn’t pay me enough,” the other man said wryly. “Besides, I’m not interested in a job in government. ATVA is as close as I’ll get.”

Okay, maybe Stanley wasn’t so bad. The psychiatrist's words elicited a small chuckle. “It’s not as bad as you think.”

“Nah, Josh and I would butt heads, as I would with the rest of the team. I don’t think I would be a good fit.”

“Can you think of anyone who might be better?”

Leo could hear the creak of an office chair and the rustling of papers over the headset. “I do. Her name is Dr. Ria Brewer. I’m actually assigning her to Josh, starting at the beginning of the year. I was going to call her tomorrow.”

Leo immediately grabbed a pen and a piece of notebook paper to write the name down. “Dr. Rhea Brewer, you said?”

“R-I-A. Ria. Yes, sir.”

“Is she any good?” He put the pen down, staring at the paper and trying to figure out what this Ria Brewer might be like.

“Do you mean, will Josh like her?”

He tried not to laugh at that but barely succeeded. “I suppose that’s the question to ask.”

“I think she’ll do just fine. As for Josh, well, I guess he’ll have to decide that on his own, won’t he?”

“That he will, Dr. Keyworth.”

“I can fax you her information. The stuff we have on file. It should help get the vetting process rolling.”

“Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”

Leo relayed the fax information to Stanley, who, after a moment, said, “I’ll get that info to you once I’m in the office tomorrow.”

“My secretary, Margaret, will be on the lookout for it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. McGarry. I hope Dr. Brewer will meet with your approval.”

Leo waved off that statement, even though Stanley couldn’t see. “I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”

“Excellent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. McGarry, it’s still Christmas here at my house, and my wife just woke up.”

“Of course. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I think you should probably go home and enjoy what little time you have left of the holiday. Have a good afternoon.”

Before Leo could reply, the dial tone rang in his ear again. Smug therapists. He hung up the phone and stared at it for far longer than he should’ve before his gaze fell back upon Dr. Brewer’s name. He wondered if personnel would be in their offices so they could start the vetting today, but he thought better of it. He didn’t want any other backward retorts about his lack of personal life or family. It was bad enough he had Jed and Stanley’s words ringing in his ears.

He grumbled and stood from his desk, crossing to put his jacket and scarf on. He grabbed a few files and tucked them under one arm. If he wasn’t going to work in the office, the least he could do was get some work done at home. He shut and locked the door and wound his way through the White House until security checked him out with a cheery goodbye that grated on his already thin nerves.

Chapter Text

Like Stanley Keyworth, Ria Brewer was a bit of a workaholic, which was why she found herself holed up in the tiny office in her apartment in D.C., on New Year’s Eve, as snow blanketed the ground, bringing most of the city to a standstill. After the frantic celebrations of a few days before, it was nice to look out her window and not see a steady stream of cars driving down the street. She knew it would pick up soon, though, as people got ready for New Year’s celebrations. But for now, she enjoyed the calm and how it allowed her to slow down and pause and not focus too much on her work.

Said work was spread across her little desk, a mess of handwritten notes and research on multiple topics, ranging from PTSD to depression and anxiety. She could lie and say that it wasn’t tied to her and that she was doing the research for a patient, but she’d spent too much time lying to herself. It was time for her to face the facts. Not that she was sure how well that would go, but it was a new year, and she was determined to help not only herself but also her patients.

A bitter thought flitted through her mind, but she didn’t indulge it. Her brown-eyed gaze flicked over to a picture sitting on her desk. She barely recognized the blonde woman staring back at her, her lips curved into a bright smile, her bangs held away from her face with a pair of cheap plastic New Year’s Eve party glasses. Ria turned the picture away from her and tried to push the thought out of her head so as to keep working. That lasted right until it was disrupted by the flash of the lamp beside her. A frown creased her lips as she tried to keep working, but the light flashed again, causing her to huff. Her phone was ringing. Who could be calling her a few days after Christmas?

She reached over to press the little green button on the receiver; her gaze fixed on the screen in front of her. Upon further scrutiny, she didn’t recognize the number, but that had never stopped her before.

“This is Dr. Brewer.”

“Dr. Brewer, this is Dr. Stanley Keyworth. I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”

Her brow furrowed as she read the captions on the screen and tried to place the name. “Dr. Keyworth?” Then it hit her. “Oh! Dr. Keyworth. From the California branch of ATVA. My apologies.”

“Apology not needed. You’re fine.”

The expression on her face softened. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Dr. Keyworth?”

“Please, it’s Stanley.”

“Only if you call me Ria.”

“Ria it is, then.” There was a pause in the captions. “Ria, I’m calling you about a patient of mine. I saw him before Christmas. I need someone local to take his case and see him on the regular.”

Business it was, then. Ria should’ve known. The only calls she ever seemed to receive were for business. She didn’t have many friends, or even relatives, who were patient enough to speak with her over the phone. Her deafness was always a problem, but she was used to it by now.

“I’m sure you’ve been told I won’t consider taking him on until I understand his circumstances.”

“Yes, your interpreter, Roger, did say something along those lines.”

“Who do you have in mind for me, then?”

Outwardly, she was grateful for more patients. The more patients she had, the more time she needed to spend on them, the less time she had to spend on her own thoughts. Inwardly, she had to admit; she was already struggling with the caseload she had taken on over the last year. Roger was going to scold her for taking on anyone else, but she had a hard time just ignoring people who needed help. She’d been forgotten or ignored a lot in her life when she needed someone. She didn’t want to be the person who missed anyone if she could help it.

“Do you remember the incident in August in Rosslyn, Virginia?”

How could she forget? Her practice had been inundated with clients in the months following the shooting. She’d seen people who had been there at the town hall and people who’d seen it on the news, which triggered their own mental health crisis. Rosslyn was the reason her desk was a mess of research. Rosslyn was the reason she couldn’t sleep well most nights anymore. But, if someone was hurting, she would help.

“Yes, I do.”

“The man I’m calling you about was injured in the shooting.”

Realization hit her square in the chest as she understood the implications of the captions appearing in front of her.

“You’re talking about Deputy Chief of Staff, Joshua Lyman.” It wasn’t a question.

She remembered the newspapers in the days following the shooting. She remembered the news reports and the way the nation seemed to hold its collective breath as they all waited for Josh to pull through...or not. She anticipated the latter with a sickening realization. She still scanned the papers for any other news on Josh as the days led to weeks and weeks led to months. There was a nasty, altogether unpleasant, thought in the back of her mind that, though he might have survived the surgeries they had performed to fix him, would he survive the trauma of it all?

She talked to Roger about the subsequent bitterness she felt about his survival. She hated that she felt that way but hated it more that she couldn’t let go of it. Roger knew there was more to the issue than that and that it stretched far beyond Josh surviving his ordeal. She was bitter at everyone who survived. She hated that they even dared continue breathing when…

She took a breath to silence the spiraling thoughts in her mind. Without looking, she deftly opened a desk drawer and pulled out a piece of gum to chew. Cinnamon. The taste burned her tongue.

“Yes, I am.”

She felt a little nudge at her ankle, and a little blue-roan Cocker Spaniel peered up at her with dark brown eyes that shone in the dim light of the lamp. Thank goodness for Cocoa. She bent down to pick up the little pup and held her to her chest. She instantly felt calm, the feeling intensifying as the little pup licked her chin eagerly.

“You diagnosed him with PTSD.” Another statement. Stanley wouldn’t be calling her if he hadn’t made that diagnosis.

“I did. Can you handle it?”

She thought about the question for a moment as she stroked Cocoa’s fur. Could she handle a PTSD case? She tried not to take those types of cases because of her own personal experience, but she had had no other choice in recent months. She had to absorb the influx of patients the shooting caused. So far, she’d been doing okay. Though maybe her own bitter spiral wasn’t exactly okay, at least she hadn’t tried anything, and she was staying objective when she met with clients. At least Roger said she was. Roger would’ve taken on the cases if she wasn’t.

“I can.”

“How are you coping with yours?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Understandable.” She absently wondered if he knew she was struggling without asking. If he did, she was grateful he didn’t point it out. She had her own therapist. “He’ll be a challenge.”

A challenge. She rolled that statement around in her mind and on her tongue, slowly. “A challenge, you say?”

“He doesn’t take kindly to therapists.”

“Do any of us, though?” she asked wryly.

She imagined him laughing in response. “I think you have us all figured out.”

“Probably.” The smile in her voice was evident. Cocoa was helping immensely. “If I agree, Roger will have to go with me.”

“I’ll fax his file to the Chief of Staff as well.”

“He’s already begun vetting?”

“He probably called the minute I hung up with him last week.”

“Last week was Christmas.”

“You don’t know Mr. McGarry.”

No, she didn’t. In fact, she was almost completely oblivious to the current administration save for the shooting in Virginia and a few policy things she’d read about in the newspapers. She enjoyed politics and read books on the subject, but she had other things to deal with and research to do. Her job took up most of her time. If it didn’t, she knew she would spiral.

“When can I expect Josh’s file?”

“I’ll fax it to you as soon as I get to the office.”

Her brown eyes flicked toward the clock on her left. It was nearly 9 a.m. her time.

“You’re starting a bit early today, Dr. Keyworth,” she said teasingly.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

She imagined the wryness of his tone and how it must sound, even if she couldn’t hear it outright or see his body language.

“Your loss is my gain.”

Ria put Cocoa down on the floor. The little pup toddled off to her bed in the corner of the room and curled up, tucking her nose under her tail before instantly falling asleep. She envied Cocoa’s ability to do that, to just lay down and sleep wherever she felt like it. She envied a lot of the simple things, but she was trying to get better.

“That it is.” The captions on the phone paused. “I’ll send you the file and let you look at it. If you could call me back tomorrow with your thoughts, we can discuss whatever else you feel you need to know then.”

“And if I decide to change my mind?”

“I don’t think you will. I know you like challenges.”

“Have we met before, and I just don’t remember it?”

Another pause in the captions. Once again, she imagined he was laughing. “I know your type.”

“Is this a moment where I should be saying pot, kettle, black?”

“Maybe.”

It was her turn to laugh. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to look over what you’ve written.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Don’t work too hard.”

One last pause. Another imagined laugh. “I could say the same about you. Have a good day, Ria.”

The captions signified that Stanley had hung up, and she blew out a long breath. Her gaze roamed over the research in front of her, then raised to the books stacked on a shelf above her. She could hear Roger now. No doubt her interpreter was at the office working on his own cases. He had no living relatives that she knew of, or a wife and kids. He was just as dedicated as she was. Maybe even more.

She glanced at the clock again and dialed a number on her phone as she started to stack the papers and research, organizing them as she went. She glanced over at the captions and smiled when she read the subsequent “hello” that flashed up on the little LCD screen.

“Hi, Roger.”

“Ria. Don’t tell me you’re working.”

“Are we going to have this conversation again?”

“No.”

“Good, because you and I both know you’d lose.”

This time, she knew the pause that ensued was punctuated by laughter. “Maybe, but I’d give you a run for your money.”

“I know that all too well.” There was a pause as she fiddled with her pen, clicking it over and over.

“What do you need to tell me?” She knew that Roger could hear the clicking of the pen over the receiver.

“I took on another case. Well, more like had it thrust upon me by ATVA.”

“Who is it?” She knew Roger well enough to know that his interest was piqued.

“Joshua Lyman.”

“Deputy Chief of Staff to President Bartlet, Joshua Lyman?”

“Is there another Josh Lyman you know of?” she asked teasingly.

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Roger was impressed, she could guess that much. Honestly, so was Ria as she dwelled on it a little bit. She hadn’t processed the news quite yet. Not entirely, anyway, her mind still partially consumed by bitter thoughts of survival and pain. They weren’t as circular as before, but they were still there at the back of her mind, droning on in the silence as she waited for words to pop up in front of her. The White House was a big deal. While she wasn’t all that well-versed in politics, she knew that her job was about to get slippery and slightly more overwhelming. There was nothing easy about the White House, and there was nothing easy about treating a member of the administration.

She vaguely remembered reading something last year about the Chief of Staff. At the moment, she couldn’t remember exactly what it was about, but it was something that had been leaked to the press, and they’d run with it. She remembered there had been mentions of some kind of hearings, but, again, her thoughts had been consumed with other things recently.

Her mulling was interrupted by a nudge on her ankle again, and her gaze fell to the screen. Cocoa wasn’t fully trained as a hearing dog yet, but she knew, at least, to get Ria’s attention when her name was called.

“Sorry. What was that? I missed what you said.”

“It’s okay. I figured you were distracted. How is Cocoa doing?”

“She knows to notify me if she hears my name. It’s a start.”

“When is she going in for her full training?”

“Next week. I’ll have to call her trainer soon.”

Another pause as she waited for Roger to speak. Cocoa peered up at her, her tail thumping gently against the hardwood floor.

“Roger?”

“Yeah. I was just looking at your schedule for this month. You’re pretty booked up. When are you going to go see him?”

“Depends on if I take him on or not. Stanley is going to fax the paperwork over to you. It’s why I called.”

“You just knew I was going to be here, didn’t you?”

She laughed lightly and nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “I know you too well.”

“I know you too well too.” She could almost see him smiling fondly over at her, and it made her own lips curve into a grin.

She was grateful for Roger and all the things he’d done for her. Getting her mental health back on track was a wonderful thing, and Roger had really taken the time to help her. She didn’t know what she would do without him and, the way this month was shaping up, she hoped he’d stick around for a long time.

“So, Josh Lyman. Did Stanley call you because he has PTSD?”

“Yeah.”

“Ria, you know this is dangerous.” She couldn’t hear the warning tone in his voice, but she could imagine it.

“I’ll be fine. I’m getting better.”

There was a pause in the captions. “I think you think that, but I don’t know if you really are.”

“Listen, Roger, I love you, but you need to let me do this.”

“It’s the politics, isn’t it? You want to feel closer to him, and you think being in the White House will help.”

She was quiet for a long moment. She hadn’t been close to anyone in over five years. Being in the White House wouldn’t change that. Ria knew that, but the statement still made her pause and think. She had gotten a political science major because of Jack. Jack. Just the thought of him made the air escape her chest, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe, but it was much better than it had been when she and Roger first met. It was slowly getting better, but thinking of him in this context…

She blew out a long breath.“I just thought I might as well put my whole college career to good use.” She shrugged. “Plus, you know I like politics.”

“You’ve been out of the loop for a while.”

“Killjoy,” she murmured fondly.

“Look, I’ll be on the lookout for the paperwork and Josh’s file. You stay at home. Come in tomorrow. Your first patient’s at one. We’ll break it down and make a decision together. I take it you told Stanley wherever you go, I go.”

“He told me that it’s being taken care of.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ria. Don’t work too hard.”

“You either.”

“You know I won’t.”

She murmured a fond goodbye, and he did too before she hung up. Cocoa was still sitting by her ankle, and the little Spaniel started tugging at a loose bit of her socks. She peered down at the pup affectionately and decided to forgo calling her trainer. She’d spent too much time on the telephone as it was, and her eyes were starting to get swimmy. So, Ria stood from her desk and pushed the chair in, Cocoa still tugging at her sock. Ria bent down and gently swatted at her behind.

“Stop that, little one. I don’t want a hole in my sock.”

Cocoa immediately let go of the fabric. Ria shook her head. If the little pup kept being as rambunctious as she was now, she wondered if she would even make it as a hearing dog. She figured not, but it was worth a shot. Besides, the trainer she knew, Brenda, was the best in the business. If anyone could whip Cocoa into shape, it would be her.

She peered down at Cocoa again. On second thought, she better contact Brenda. She booted up her computer and sat back down at it to compose the message.

Chapter Text

At one, a weary Leo McGarry sat down at his desk after a meeting with the House majority, the Senate majority, their respective staff, and the President. He heaved a heavy sigh, pressing his fingers deep into his temples in an effort to ward off his impending headache. Not having control of the Senate or the House was a nightmare. He eagerly awaited the elections the next year because, hopefully, they’d flip them both back to blue. It might be a fool’s errand to get excited, but he was damn near ready for a win. It’d been too long since the last time they had. They needed another one, and they needed one now.

Leo took a breath and sat up, slipping his glasses on. He had every intention of working on a few things for a budget meeting at two, only to be interrupted. Margaret came bustling with a handful of pink message slips. He stared at her rather flatly as she handed them over. None of them looked important. Most could wait until later. Leo set them aside, but she didn’t move.

“Was there something else?”

“Dr. Keyworth called for you. He didn’t say it was urgent, but I thought I’d let you know personally rather than write it down.”

Leo perked up and sat a bit straighter in his chair. “Did he say when would be a good time to call him back?”

“He said any time before one our time.”

“Thanks.”

Margaret turned on her heel and headed back to her desk. Leo felt the vestiges of fear spider-webbing across his chest once again, and he had to take another breath to calm himself down. He thought it was silly that he was terrified of the idea that this ‘Dr. Brewer’ wouldn’t take Josh’s case. But then he remembered the way Josh had looked in the Oval Office. His expression, the way he seemed to disappear into himself‒ turning into a shell of the vibrant, manic young man he’d grown fond of ‒made him sick. Another deep breath and he steeled himself as he reached over to dial Stanley’s number.

Thankfully, the younger man answered quickly. “Stanley Keyworth. How can I help you?”

“Stanley, it’s Leo McGarry.”

“Mr. McGarry. Thank you for calling me back.”

“It’s not a problem. Do you have good news for me?”

“I do. I talked to Dr. Brewer earlier today. She’s going to take Josh’s case.”

He slumped into his chair in relief. Thank God.

“Excellent. Margaret got her file, and I’ve begun the vetting process for her already. You said she had an interpreter? Do you have information on him as well?”

“I do. His name is Roger Collins. They are partners in a practice in downtown D.C.”

“Yes, I noticed she was local. That will be helpful.” He paused. “Did you mention the idea of a consulting job to her?”

“I did not. I felt that it would be better coming from you.”

Leo didn’t outwardly voice his gratitude, but he was sure it was evident in his tone as he spoke. “Thank you, Stanley. I’ll get the ball rolling on Mr. Collins and look over what personnel has on Dr. Brewer.”

“I’m glad I could be of service, and I hope Dr. Brewer helps.”

“I do as well, Stanley. Thank you, and thank you for your transparency.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sure I’ll speak to you again soon. Have a good afternoon, Mr. McGarry.”

“You as well.”

He hung up his phone and tented his fingers in front of him. Maybe the start of this year wasn’t turning out too badly after all. He allowed himself a small smile before he got back to work, looking over the files for the upcoming budget meeting.

****

The leadership breakfast went sideways and Leo couldn’t say he was surprised at that development. Toby got a bit between his teeth that made the beginning of the week unbearable--what with his disdain of the rules and pushing forward with things Leo didn’t want to talk about--and it culminated in a disastrous sound bite. Not to mention a drag through the mud from Republican Senator Henry Shallick that no one was prepared for. Leave it to Toby to get on his moral high horse and attempt to do things recklessly. He couldn’t fault the man, though. His heart was in the right place, even if it did result in a superiority fueled morality attempt.

Leo collapsed in his office chair early that Friday, silently praying to whatever God might be up there for a quiet day. The backlash from the soundbite had been mostly resolved and things, so far, had begun to quiet down. The good news was Josh seemed to be okay, for all intents and purposes. There had been a few times during the week that Leo felt like Josh was losing grip on reality, but his deputy did a good job reeling himself in, and recognizing that he was getting too close to the edge. He asked Josh everyday how he was doing and, so far, Josh hadn’t had a bad day. Still, Leo wondered how much the younger man was hiding for the sake of his job.

Watching Josh go through the day, Leo still worried that they weren’t doing enough for him. He worried that Toby’s aggressive campaign against the breakfast guidelines was something for the communications director to latch onto. Was his own life spiraling like Josh’s had? Like Leo’s had so many years before? He couldn’t be sure. CJ seemed to have a firm grip on things, but she was always calm and cool under pressure. He liked to think he could see when something was going on with his staff, but he’d missed Josh’s breakdown. Who else would suffer unseen?

For a moment, Leo sat in the relative silence of his office, listening to the quiet drone of his television sets, and focusing on them rather than the noise in his head. As much as he tried to deny it, Rosslyn brought back his own demons, and silencing them was beginning to get harder and harder. Triggers were beginning to pile up, and he felt smothered under the weight of them. The good thing was, he was better at hiding his emotions.

Once the noise in his head died down to bearable levels, he sat forward in his chair and began to work on the smattering of files laid out on his desk. Josh might be at the forefront of his mind, but the rest of his thoughts were on reelection, and the minor fact that he and Toby had established a committee to reelect the president. It was time, and he needed to be on his guard and at his best. The rest of the team would need to follow suit. It would be difficult, but if things went according to plan, they’d have one hell of a campaign.

His thoughts were interrupted by a commotion in the hallway, and he stopped what he was doing to listen. Commotions weren’t typically commonplace in the White House, but since no Secret Service agents had come in to secure the building, it could only mean-- He immediately stood from his chair and opened his door. The unmistakable sound of Josh’s voice, tense, strained, and a few decibels louder than it needed to be, reached his ears. Damnit.

His strides across the outer office were long and measured. Many of the other staffers continued about their business and didn’t pay any mind, but those in Josh’s bullpen, he noticed, were anxiously listening. He could feel the tension in the air, the uncertainty, and in the midst of everything, he sought out Donna.

The usually cheery blonde had positioned herself near Josh’s door, and seemed to be taking whatever verbal beating he was handing out. Leo winced but, as he came closer, he could hear Donna’s soft voice trying to calm Josh down as he yelled at an intern who stood just inside his office. The intern was taking it in stride, but Leo could hear the young man--a kid really, not more than twenty--goading Josh, calling him out on whatever they were arguing about, and Josh was having none of it.

Leo stepped past Donna, and the air in the bullpen and Josh’s office shifted. The intern stopped talking but Josh kept on.

“What in the hell is going on in here?” Leo barked sharply, instantly silencing Josh, who stared at his boss with wide eyes, blinking rapidly, like he was trying to clear the fog from his mind.

Donna stood at attention, glancing at Leo. “We’re sorry about the disturbance, sir.”

But Leo’s gaze wasn’t focused on Donna, it was focused on his deputy in front of him, and the intern to his right. “I asked, what is going on here?”

His gaze then shifted to the intern, who seemed to cower in his presence. He obviously wasn’t afraid of Josh, but he was just as obviously afraid of Leo.

“I- I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to upset Mr. Lyman. I was simply trying to point out something he did wrong.”

“And what exactly did he do wrong?”

Donna piped up quietly. “It was my fault, sir. I labeled a letter incorrectly and wrote down the wrong instructions, so someone yelled at him, and then he yelled at me, and then he started yelling at Josh.”

Leo looked between them all, pointing first at the intern. “You. Get out of here. Leave whatever started this on Margaret Hooper’s desk, and I’ll take care of it.” The intern didn’t move. “Didn’t you hear me? Get out of here.”

The intern scurried out the door, pushing between Leo and Donna, leaving the three of them standing motionless in Josh’s office. The atmosphere was still tense, far more tense than he liked, and it made the hair on the back of his head stand on end.

Leo knew that Josh was still trying to calm down. He could see the younger man’s jaw clenching and unclenching. His shoulders still appeared tense, his entire body rigid. From the corner of his eye, Leo saw Donna practically trembling, wanting to move closer to Josh, to be there for him, but she didn’t dare move, not in front of Leo. She didn’t want to give everything away, but Leo already knew. It was obvious, and her reaction to the incident almost made him smile, but he didn’t. Now was not the time for that.

“Donna, go back to work.”

“Am I in trouble, sir?”

“For what?”

That appeared to be the answer she was waiting for. Leo watched as she turned on her heel and left to go back to her desk. Leo shut the door behind him once she was gone, and leveled his gaze at Josh. He wasn’t angry. Not at him. He was angry at that stupid twit of an intern, but the intern didn’t know what was going on. All he knew was what the news told him in August. Josh had been shot. That’s what everyone knew. Only a few knew about the PTSD. After that little incident, he was sure more people would start figuring it out, but he tried not to think about that.

After a long moment, the two of them staring at each other, while Josh attempted to calm down, Leo sat down in the closest chair. The younger man sat down across from him with a small sigh.

“You alright?”

Josh laughed dryly. “Do I look alright?”

“You look like hell,” Leo replied bluntly.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Josh’s elbows settled on the smooth, brown wood of his desk, and he pressed his fingers against his eyes. Leo recognized it as a tick. He didn’t say anything else. If Josh was going to say something, he would have to initialize the conversation. So, he waited. His upcoming meeting with Veteran Affairs would just have to wait. This was far more important.

After a while, Leo watched as Josh finally sat up straight and looked at him with eyes that were no longer haunted by whatever had set him off. Leo could see his deputy breathe in a steadying breath, could hear it in the silence of the room around them. That was good. He was coming back to himself. It made Leo’s heart feel less like it was beating out of his chest with anxiety. He couldn’t imagine the way Josh was feeling as he calmed down.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” Josh finally asked, curiously.

Leo shrugged. “I got to spend time with Mallory. That was nice.”

“Didn’t the President invite you to New Hampshire?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to intrude.”

Josh quirked an eyebrow, almost frowning at those words. “It’s the President. He wouldn’t have asked you if he didn’t want you there.”

But Leo waved him off. “I got some work done. Started the ball rolling on a few things. It’s fine.”

Josh shrugged and sat back in his chair. “People are gonna start noticing.”

“About you?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t care. I made you a promise, and I’m going to keep that promise.” Leo paused for a moment and regarded Josh with a hard, yet caring gaze. “You’re not alone here, Josh. No man’s an island. You have Donna and you have me and you have the President. I stand by that.”

“But if I keep--”

“Keep what?” Leo asked, cutting the younger man off quickly. “Keep feeling? Keep letting it out? You’re not broken. None of us are, and you’re not the only one who’s suffering.”

Josh’s eyes narrowed slightly. That was as close as Leo was willing to get to admitting to his own struggles with PTSD, and how Rosslyn had brought all that flooding back. He knew he probably should heed his own words, but the truth of the matter was, he needed to be an island. Josh didn’t. Josh was young. Josh had his whole life ahead of him. Leo didn’t have much more in his future. After the President was finished serving his term, be it one or two, Leo was just going to be Leo. A private citizen. A former politician. A former drug addict. A former alcoholic. A former being, drifting in the expanse between something and nothing. He’d resigned himself to that long ago.

But Josh? The kid had potential. He’d be in this business for a long, long time, probably longer than even Leo had been. He could be anything he wanted to be in politics. He never imagined Josh would go for the big leagues, he wouldn’t cut it as President, but he could be a consultant, a Senator, hell, even Chief of Staff one day. Josh was good, and Leo wasn’t going to let this get in the way of that.

“Think you’ll be okay to stick around today? Work on some things? Or do you want to go home and rest? Come back Monday with new eyes.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. It was nothing.”

Leo nodded and accepted the fact that he couldn’t force Josh to do anything that he didn’t want to do. Not when it came to his personal life, after all. In the administration, he still had the upper hand.

Leo stood from his chair and started to leave, but he quickly turned and asked, “How was your Christmas? Did you get out of the city?”

Josh had already begun to read something on his computer and jumped a little when Leo spoke, obviously lost in thought and not paying attention. “Yeah. Yeah, I got to see Mom.”

“Did Donna have to drag you?” Leo asked with a bit of mirth.

Josh appeared to note the tease and chuckled weakly. “She bought the plane ticket, yeah. Pushed me out of the office.”

“I thought so.”

Josh laughed again, the sound much heartier this time. “She takes care of me.”

“She likes it too. Keep letting her do it.”

Josh nodded. “Thanks, Leo.”

He tilted his head, not saying a word as he slipped out of Josh’s office to return to his. The staffers who had gathered around to listen to Josh’s angry words dispersed quietly, as Leo opened the door to his office and stepped inside. For a moment, he stood there, thinking quietly, before he turned to the left and entered the Oval Office.

The President was in the middle of a briefing that didn’t require Leo’s presence but, when Jed noticed his chief of staff over the top of his glasses, the President turned to the men and women in front of him and excused himself. They nodded and began talking amongst themselves, the slight drone of conversation a perfect cover for what Leo had to say.

“I just got done talking with Josh.”

“Is he alright?” Jed glanced at his audience. Thankfully, none of them seemed to be paying attention.

“He and an intern got a little heated earlier. He’s fine now.”

Leo’s tone of voice betrayed him and as soon as he finished speaking, the President paused, turned to the men and women gathered in the office and smiled warmly. Nothing was amiss. At least not according to them. Leo admired his bravado in the face of such tumult.

“If you’ll excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. Something’s come up. We’ll have to continue this another time.”

The men and women all gathered their briefcases and bags, and quickly left the office, leaving Leo and the President alone. Jed crossed the room to the resolute desk and sat behind it, careful to set his glasses down where he wouldn’t lose them.

“Should we be sending him home? When is this new therapist supposed to start? Can we call her in early?”

“She starts next week. He has an appointment at eight on Tuesday. Donna told me.”

“If he’ll go.” Jed stated plainly. “You know he’d just as soon do one of your confounded big block of cheese days before he’d talk about himself, least of all to a therapist.”

“No need to remind me of that,” Leo said dryly.

“You’re doing another one of those soon, aren’t you?”

Leo’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Next Tuesday, in fact.”

“You planned that, didn’t you?”

“No, I did not.” Leo wasn’t the least bit amused.

“Have you spoken to her, this new therapist? Does she know what else she’s getting herself into?”

“I don’t think she does. Dr. Keyworth hasn’t mentioned anything about it either.”

“What are you waiting for?” Jed asked. Leo noted the hint of confusion on his expression. It was unlike Leo to suggest something and then not follow through with it.

“Sir, I think the best way to handle this is to come up with a list of potential names first. Bipartisan, preferably, to appease both sides of the issue.”

Jed’s eyes narrowed and Leo felt his hard gaze on him. He knew exactly what the President was thinking. Republicans would be less receptive to the idea. They would rather stick their heads in the sand than acknowledge gun violence was an issue. In addition to that, they weren’t exactly mental health advocates. Again, they’d rather stick their heads in the sand and pretend nothing bad ever happened. The joys of working with the right and, more particularly, the Christian right. Jed was a Christian, but even he knew that there was more to mental health than praying to God for relief from anxieties and worries. Involving the Republicans was going to be a bad idea all around.

“Both sides of the issue? Leo, don’t pretend that the Republicans care about mental health or gun violence and the side effects of it.”

“I’m just saying it’s a good idea to entertain a few names. You said it yourself, this is a bipartisan issue.”

Leo was right and he could tell that Jed knew it. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem reaching out and drawing up that list. Just make sure her name is on it. I don’t want any surprises when it comes down to choosing.” He shuffled some folders around to keep his hands busy for a moment. “And if she’s not the right fit, we’ll look somewhere else.”

“Yes, sir.”

No sooner had Leo spoken, Jed was shouting across the office for Charlie, who promptly entered the room. “Mr. President?”

“Schedule fifteen minutes in the day somewhere so I can finish up that meeting I just dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Charlie turned to leave. Leo kept watching the President. When shuffling folders wasn’t enough to occupy his mind, Jed looked back up at his chief of staff. Leo could see the worry etched in Jed’s face, the way the anxiety settled in the wrinkles of his forehead and the lines at his eyes. There was something weighing on Jed’s mind, but Leo could tell he wasn’t keen on speaking about it. If he were to, it would give that anxiety a voice, and it wouldn’t just settle in the wrinkles of his face. It would settle in the office, and follow him wherever he went, an elephant in the room that would slowly engulf every nook and cranny of the building. They didn’t want that, but what other choice did they have?

Jed sighed heavily. “Give it to me straight, Leo. If this keeps happening, how long before I have to pull the plug?”

Leo feigned innocence. “Sir?”

“Josh. The staff will start talking. That, uh, intern today. How much do you trust him to keep his mouth shut?”

“Not at all, sir.”

“Exactly. How long before this starts hurting us?”

“I won’t let it, sir.”

“Leo--”

“No, Mr. President. So long as I have a job, he has a job.” Jed fixed him with a hard gaze, but Leo didn’t back down. “It’s Josh. He’ll be fine. Give him time.”

Jed let out a long breath and nodded anyway. “I couldn’t fire him anyway. You’d be lost without him.”

Leo snorted softly. “Whatever you say, Mr. President.”

“You would be. We all would be.”

Jed wasn’t wrong, and Leo knew it all too well.

He stood there in the silence, letting the implications of their conversation settle between them before he spoke again. “I’m late for a budget meeting.”

“Ask Donna to keep an eye on Josh, won’t you? I’m sure she already is, but it doesn’t hurt to remind her every once in a while.”

There was a small flicker of a smile on Leo’s face. “Will do, sir.”

With that, the conversation was over. Leo left the Oval Office feeling a renewed sense of duty for his young deputy. The uncertainty and the anxiety were still settled in his chest and the pit of his stomach, but he felt better for the first time in over two weeks. If this “Dr. Brewer” was as good as Stanley made her out to be, Leo had no doubt that Josh would be on the mend before anyone knew it, and hopefully before the reelection campaign kicked off.

His thoughts wandered to the conversation he’d had with Toby that past Wednesday in the Oval Office as he returned to his own and sat at his desk. He wondered if a new consultant on mental health would bring down their favorables. He knew most people didn’t accept most mental health diagnoses as legitimate, and there was still so much they didn’t know about things like depression, addiction and PTSD. But he hoped that maybe, just maybe, this would be a step in the right direction. They would figure it out, he mused, as he took out a piece of paper and jotted a few names down. He paused as he appraised the names before adding Dr. Brewer’s name to the list. Then he sat the list aside, picked up a few folders, and left his office for the Roosevelt Room for the dreaded budget meeting.

Chapter Text

At the end of the day, Donna could feel the tension in her shoulders finally beginning to subside. After the run-in with the intern, she noticed Josh had been edgy and jumpy for the rest of the day, despite Leo coming in and diffusing the situation. He’d been like this for months, though. Ever since he was released from the hospital, she could tell a fuse was burning, getting shorter and shorter until the explosion hit. 

The big one resulted in Stanley Keyworth coming out from California for an intervention at her request. Thank God for Leo. But the explosions kept coming, anger directed at everything but the elephant in the room. She’d noticed the way he kept snapping at people. She’d noticed the way that things kept happening. He’d forget things, occasionally trailing off in the middle of a sentence. Sometimes, she’d hear a crash of something hitting the floor of his office, flung there of his own volition, and she was getting almost too familiar with the muttered curses coming from his office.

She’d seen all of this before. In the days and weeks after the attack, she’d come over with food and groceries, and help him do some light housework. She didn’t have to do it, she could’ve asked others to help, but with him out of the office and her being his assistant, she felt like it was the more natural fit. Besides, she wanted to do it.

She ended up over there almost every weekend to help take care of things and make sure that nothing unnecessary stressed him out until he could get back on his feet. She had famously told Toby off when he wanted to see Josh about suing and confronting the hate groups responsible for the attack. After that, no one came to her to speak to Josh, fully expecting to be rebuked, and rightly so. He wordlessly appreciated the protection during those months, she knew that much, even if he pretended to be indignant about it.. She knew him well enough she could tell the relief that seemed to wash over him when she showed up. It made a warmth swell in her chest, resulting in a bright smile. Reassurance. He was going to be fine and she wholeheartedly believed that.

That was, she believed it until one day she walked into his apartment to find a cyclone of destruction, papers were strewn everywhere, glass was broken in the kitchen, books were spine up on the floor. A well of hurt that bubbled and exploded in his usually somewhat calm sanctuary.

It was then she realized just how glad she was that she kept everyone else at bay. He wouldn’t want anyone else to see the damage.

What took the brunt of his anger wasn’t his possessions, but rather the puckered and healing skin of his side. Each angry outburst resulted in his skin ripping at the seams. Scabs, crusted over and healed, broke open, seeping blood as red and angry as the contents of his mind. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, Donna realized that now but at the time, she thought he was upset about his confinement, rather than suffering the effects of something deeper, something she couldn’t quite comprehend. A part of her wondered how she could have missed it. Another part wondered why she didn’t say anything to Leo sooner.

Looking back on it, she realized the mistake she made, and the mistakes she needed to stop making in the future. Which was why, at five that evening, Donna made it a point to shut down her computer and gather her things. Other staff was beginning to trickle out of the White House, and the silence was starting to get heavier and heavier as the minutes ticked by. The evening’s darkness began to seep into the corridors and through the slits in the blinds around the office. Slowly, she pulled on her jacket and wound a scarf around her neck. Next came a hat before she picked up Josh’s long brown coat and walked into his office. When she entered, he was rubbing his eyes tiredly. He couldn’t fool her though. She knew he was trying to hide his exhaustion, and that it went deeper than even he would admit to. 

“C’mon, Josh. It’s time to go.” He grumbled and she made it a point to brandish his coat closer to him. The fabric brushed against his desk, the sound evident in the quiet. “It’s not a suggestion, Josh.” 

“Donna,” he began to complain. “I’m in the middle of something here.” 

“It can wait until tomorrow.” 

“Donna--” 

“Josh, come on . We’re leaving .” She avoided thinking about how her tone sounded like she was pleading for him to listen to her. 

“Where are we going?” Josh asked, pulling her from her reverie as he pulled on his coat.

Donna shrugged elaborately as she put on a pair of fuzzy, light pink gloves. “We could go have a few drinks.”

She tried to make her tone sound nonchalant, but she could hear the amount of caring in her voice, and she bet he could too. But he didn’t say anything as he started gathering up his papers. She wanted to stop him and say, no, don’t take this with you, be off for one night, but she knew that would be pushing it. Getting him to leave at a decent time was hard enough.

“Drinks sound good.”

“Not too much, though,” she said pointedly as the sound of a zipper reached her ears.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and regarded her suspiciously. She felt herself smile in response to that rather hard gaze. She briefly wondered if he was considering whether this was a good idea. It probably wasn’t, but she wasn’t going to draw attention to that. If he tried to drink too much, she was fully prepared to cut him off, though maybe attempting to do that was a fool’s errand. She’d just have to wait and see. 

“Donna, I have to work tomorrow. I won’t get drunk and try to come in anyway.”

“You’ve done it before,” she pointed out quickly, a smirk playing across her lips.

“Don’t remind me,” he grumbled as he led them out of his office and shut the door.

“I don’t know, though. The Gordon’s Fisherman look was kinda hot.”

“Really? You think it was?”

Donna had to suppress a laugh as she led him down the hall. “No, not at all.”

“You’re mean.”

“Yeah, but that’s what you like about me.”

“I thought that’s what you liked about me .”

Boy, he really was clueless. But, despite that, she gave him a dazzling smile and tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I like about you.”

“Ha, I knew it.”

They fell silent as they both signed out of the building and headed to the parking garage. Once there, she stopped suddenly, and he ran right into the back of her.

“You know, the key is to keep on walking.”

“Shut up,” she began as she rummaged in her purse. “My car or yours?” Her voice was muffled as she tried to find her keys.

“That sounds like an invitation, Donatella.” There was a smirk to his words that she could clearly hear. “Is it?”

“Maybe it is, Joshua.” She pulled out her keys and looked at him expectantly, willing him to take the hint, to realize that she didn’t want him to be alone today after his outburst.

“Won’t your roommates be, you know, annoyed that they have an unexpected houseguest?”

A huff rose unbidden to her lips. “Fine. You drive yours and I’ll follow you there.”

“Where exactly is there?”

“I said downtown.”

“I thought you didn’t like the college co-ed bars.”

She shrugged elaborately. “I’ll live.”

They stood there for a moment longer than they needed to as Josh pulled his keys from his jacket pocket, watching her expectantly like he was waiting for her to make the first move. In the immediate days after Rosslyn, before he returned to the office, something shifted in Josh. Where once he was the go-getter, unafraid to do anything or approach anyone, now he backed off and let Donna take the lead. In the back of her mind, she wondered if that would change once things started going back to normal, whatever “normal” might entail now. She knew they could never truly go back to normal. But she tried not to think about that as she headed toward her car.

“I’ll wait at the gate,” he called over his shoulder as they parted ways.

She nodded in response despite the fact he couldn’t see her before she made it to her car and unlocked it, climbing inside. Donna took a few moments to collect herself and breathe. In and out. In and out. Heavy breaths as she tried to push aside the events of the day. But she didn’t linger. She couldn’t. So, she shoved the key into the ignition and turned it, the car sputtering to life, roaring beneath her as she pulled from the parking space and followed after him.

Josh was, indeed, waiting for her at the gate and, when her lights came up behind him, he pulled from the parking garage and turned right onto H St NW. She followed, but instead of doubling back toward Georgetown, he continued downtown to a rather swanky place she was surprised he knew about. She tried not to be impressed, but couldn’t help it when she finally parallel parked, turned off her car, and slid out into the cold, D.C. air. Her breath plumed in a fine mist as she waited for him, huddled in her coat, hands tucked up under her arms for warmth. Thankfully, he wasn’t much further behind her, parking a few places further along and rejoining her. When he opened the door to the bar for her, she stepped inside with a whispered and fond, “thank you.”

The typical Friday night crowd in D.C. was thin on the ground, but she imagined that, as the evening went on, the bar would get more and more crowded. She just hoped that they could leave before that happened. Maybe the dull drone of talking would take Josh’s mind off of whatever was bothering him, but she doubted it would help her. She had a feeling that, today, it would do little other than make her emotions and feelings worse.

“Follow me,” Josh said from close to her ear. She felt the solid warmth of his hand on the small of her back, but it was gone before she could fully appreciate it.

She followed him to the back corner of the bar, where he found a lone booth away from the crowd and away from any windows or the front door. The realization of that made a pang of sadness shoot through her, a frown pulling her lips down and wrinkling her mouth at the corners. In the rather dim light, she watched him closely as he sat down and got comfortable. Any earlier thoughts that maybe he was getting better after seeing Stanley went out the window. He was getting worse.

“What do you want?” He asked as she started pulling off outerwear to get more comfortable before settling into the booth.

“I’ll take a Budweiser.”

He nodded and stood back up, slipping away to the bar before quickly returning with a smile that made the dimples at his cheeks deepen. “Drinks ordered.”

She tucked a lock of hair behind an ear and couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Thanks, Josh.”

Another nod and he slid into the booth across from her. “So, what’s up with you asking me out for drinks? This isn’t a date, is it? Did I forget a work anniversary or something? You know you’re the one who’s supposed to remind me of these things.”

Donna snorted and shook her head. “No, it’s not a work anniversary. I just thought that maybe you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight.”

Josh looked startled for a moment. “What made you think that?”

Another pang of worry shot through her. “Today, Josh. The intern?”

His face darkened at the memory, eyes narrowing as he looked away from her. “I’m fine.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“You don’t know me very well, Donna.” 

“I know you well enough, Josh.” A waitress brought their drinks and set them down in front of them before quickly scurrying off. Donna could feel the tension in the air, and she didn’t like it. “It’s okay, you know?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? That it’s okay to not be okay? It isn’t. Not in this line of work.”

“No one blames you, Josh. No one blames you for any of this.”

“No, but they’re watching me. They’re watching to see if I’m going to screw up. The only reason no one in the press corps has found out yet is because Leo has put his ass on the line for me. I can’t ever repay him for that.”

“I think you’ve done enough for him and he knows that. This is him repaying you for what you and Sam did last year after Lillianfield. Not that he thinks of it that way, it’s only you who does.”

He pushed a hand through his hair and finally picked up his beer to take a swig. “He can’t keep covering for me.”

“He can do whatever in the hell he wants to do. It’s Leo. You know you can’t talk him out of things.”  

That seemed to strike Josh and she watched as he deflated. He sat back in the booth, drinking his beer silently, and seemingly trying to ignore the words Donna had said. She fell quiet as well and the only sound between them was the low rumble of the other patrons chatting, the sound getting louder and louder as more and more people entered. She tried to ignore the many faces around her, but she recognized a few of them. Some were staff at the White House. Others were aides who worked on the Hill. She didn’t see any congressmen or women, but it wouldn’t surprise her if there were a few of them here, doing the same thing they were doing, drowning their Fridays in a stiff drink.

A part of her regretted inviting Josh out. He was obviously still simmering in the mire of his mind, his brown-eyed gaze hollow and haunted, focused on nothing. It was like he was staring down some invisible demons no one else but he could see. She briefly flicked her own gaze in the same direction he was looking, but there was nothing and no one there. He was just lost in the depths of his own thoughts. I’m used to this , she thought with a sickening realization. He’d done this often in the three months she’d gone over to his apartment. The guilt began to creep in again, the tendrils of it wrapping around her heart and squeezing tight.

“You know I’ll be fine, right?”

Donna blinked as she realized Josh had spoken. It took her another few seconds to process what he’d said.

“Of course, I do. You have me and the staff. You have a therapist who’s going to—”

“I don’t have a therapist yet,” he cut her off quickly.

“Hmm, yeah you do.” She set her Budweiser down and turned in her chair to rummage in her purse. “Margaret emailed me today. Hold on.”

The dark look of his gaze deepened. Donna caught it out of the corner of her eyes as she searched for the little pink slip she’d written the information on.

“Ah, here it is.” She quickly pushed it across the table toward him.

He sat his beer aside, picking it up to look over. His eyes narrowed. “Dr. Ria Brewer?”

“Short for Aria, Margaret said.”

He hummed, obviously unamused, and it caused her lips to curve downward into another frown. It felt like she’d been wearing that frown a lot recently. 

“Why a woman?” He asked.

“Why not?”

Josh shrugged and shoved the piece of paper back to her. “Who made the appointment?”

“I think Leo did.”

“He should’ve known better than to schedule it for Tuesday.”

Her brow furrowed. “It’s big block of cheese day. It’s the perfect day for it.”

Another unamused hum.

“Give her a chance.”

“What could she know about what I’m going through?”

“Josh,” she began, but he cut her off again.

“Okay, okay. Fine. Fine. I’ll give her a chance.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. The words might not be genuine. He might change his mind before Tuesday, but at least, for the moment, Donna felt like she had some control over the situation. If she did, maybe he did too. She doubted it, but at least she could pretend, sitting there in the bar.

“Donna?”

She turned to face him with a smile, her blue eyes sparkling in the dim light. Deep down, she knew the expression on her face was a mask, something to help dull his pain and mask her own worry and anxieties. But it seemed to work. The smile he gave her was more genuine than she’d seen all day. She felt the tension in her shoulders loosen.

“Yeah?”

“Think you could stay with me tonight?”

“You’re lucky your couch is comfortable.”

That was her answer and she left it at that. Not that he seemed to mind, though. His dimples remained, as did his smile, and they started talking about the day, avoiding the rather large, angry elephant in the room. For the first time since August, she felt more relaxed than she had been. It was a welcome feeling, and she reveled in it as she ordered another beer and listened to him talk.

Chapter Text

When Ria walked into the White House for the first time, her immediate thought was, this place seems loud. Not that she could hear the commotion or the bustle of the people walking around the offices, delivering files and papers to staffers all over the building. She couldn’t. But, if she could, she imagined it would be loud, especially with the number of people who brushed past her, their muttered “excuse me’s” and “pardon me’s” lost in turned away faces and non-readable lips. Roger had asked if she wanted him to come along. She’d said no, but when faced with this chaos, she wished she would’ve told him yes.

Under normal circumstances, this amount of people all around her wouldn’t have bothered her. Maybe, simply because it was the White House, it seemed to get under her skin. She felt trapped there, as much as she felt awe. It was a beautiful building, and the entrance blew her away, her gaze moved from the ornate tiles under her feet to the columns that extended from floor to ceiling. There was plenty of room there, but the sheer number of people made her want to scream and run away. She stood to the side as soon as she got her security badge and rummaged for a pen and piece of gum. She felt self-conscious about standing there, still as a statue save for her rummaging, when everyone else was on the move. Were people looking at her? What were they thinking?

She tried to ignore that barrage of thoughts as she finally found her gum, cinnamon, like always, and popped a piece into her mouth. The flavor erupted, sharp and spicy, and she focused on that and how it burned her tongue. Then she found her pen and a pad of paper, just in case she needed to talk to anyone other than the two security guards who cleared and checked her in. At least they had been understanding when talking to her, even if the beginning was plagued with a few misunderstandings. At least they didn’t arrest her. That had happened at a government building before.

Her anxiety spiked, her heart pounding harder but, like everything else, she ignored it and headed down the hall to the West Wing.

Even though the ceilings were taller than she was used to, and the hallways were brightly lit, the place still felt like an inescapable labyrinth. It twisted and turned, ending in dead ends and looping corridors that confused her. Soon, even the taste of cinnamon couldn’t mask the bitter taste in the back of her throat. She clicked her pen and focused on the vibrations of it instead, which seemed to help as she turned down another corridor and glanced at the numbers on the doors. None of them matched where she was supposed to be, and she huffed in frustration.

A tap on the shoulder pulled her out of her own thoughts and she turned to face a blonde woman with a perky smile. “You look lost.”

Ria felt it as well as looked it, she was sure. “I am. I’m looking for Joshua Lyman’s office?”

The other woman’s smile widened and, for the first time in a few minutes, Ria felt relief beginning to settle in her chest. “It’s right up the hall. I can show you.”

“I would appreciate that, thank you.”

The blonde woman motioned and began to walk. Ria followed and hoped that the woman wasn’t attempting to converse with her. It would have been a hopeless endeavor.

At a breezeway, the blonde stopped to let some people go first, turning to Ria with an outstretched hand. “I’m Donna Moss.”

“Miss Moss! Yes, my interpreter, Roger, confirmed the appointment with you.” She shook Donna’s hand with a smile.

“Interpreter?” Donna asked but didn’t give Ria time to answer. “You’re deaf too. Josh is gonna love that.”

“Has a thing for deaf women, does he?”

“He has a thing for women. Not that he ever acts on it,” Donna replied wryly. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Ria held up a hand. “I won’t say a word.”

Ria noted that Donna seemed to hesitate a bit at that like she didn’t believe Ria would keep what she’d said a secret, but the other woman didn’t say anything. Instead, she simply fell silent and, when there was a break in the bodies passing by them, she crossed the hall and stepped into the bullpen.

Ria’s gaze bounced around as she tried to survey the chaos around them, but there was just so much to take in. The hallways didn’t seem big enough to walk through, but she observed pairs of staffers side by side, talking, blue or manilla colored files in their hands or tucked up under their arms. Some carried Styrofoam cups of coffee, and even more were walking around with unwrapped sandwiches, taking a moment to eat while on the run. She had to admit she was impressed and, the more time she spent in the chaos, the more she was getting used to it.

However, as time passed in the fishbowl around the assistants’ desks, her jitters returned. She tried to hold it back by shifting her briefcase from one hand to another as Donna disappeared into an office behind her right shoulder. Ria resisted the urge to turn around and see what was going on in that office. Instead, she simply watched the staffers mill about and work. She didn’t recognize any of them, which meant she wasn’t in the presence of anyone super important, but she knew they were all cogs in a well-oiled machine. She was secretly impressed.

She was less impressed when Donna came out of the office with tense shoulders and a frown creasing her previously bubbly face. There was something wrong, and she knew it had everything to do with Joshua Lyman. He was a challenge, Stanley had warned her of that, and now she was beginning to understand the full implications of it. She could feel her own frown pulling her lips down as she stepped closer to the fishbowl and what she assumed was Donna’s desk.

“Do I need to come back at another time?”

Donna glanced up at Ria, shook her head, looked down at a planner on her desk, then directed her gaze back to Ria. “No. He’s not busy.”

“But he doesn’t want to see me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Dr. Brewer -”

“Ria.”

“Ria. Right. Ria, he doesn’t want to see anyone if he doesn’t have to.”

“He has to.”

“I told him that.”

“Okay, then.”

Ria didn’t wait for Donna to respond. Instead, she turned and marched straight into the office marked with Josh’s name. When she strode in, it was obvious that the last thing he expected was for his new therapist to have moxie. Or maybe he wasn’t used to being stood up to by someone who was a good foot shorter than he was and had breasts. Those were silly and kind of bitter thoughts, but they were still there as she stood tall, her shoulders back, back straight, in front of his desk. He looked at her like she had two heads, and maybe she had, but the expression told her a lot about him in the first few seconds of meeting, even if they hadn’t exchanged words. In addition, his body language was the easiest thing to read. Surprise, intrigue, frustration, and tension were in every line of his body. His shoulders were tight, and the muscles in his jaw and neck clenched and unclenched as he covered the mouthpiece of the phone he was holding.

“Can I help you?”

“Mr. Lyman,” she extended a hand toward him. “I’m Dr. Ria Brewer, from ATVA. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You’re deaf.” He looked surprised, but then the surprise turned to annoyance and he didn’t give her time to respond. “Yeah, look, I’m kind of busy right now.”

“And your appointment with me is priority number one, Mr. Lyman. Mr. McGarry relayed that to me when he set it up.”

Josh just stared at her, not moving to shake her hand. So, she retracted it and remained standing in front of him, her entire demeanor communicating intent and dominance of the situation. The gears in his mind started turning, she could see it in the way he regarded her, an eyebrow lifting slowly, curiously. He was also clearly amused.

He quickly returned to his conversation on the phone. She saw him tell the person on the other line that he would have to call them back, then he hung up and faced her more fully. She hadn’t backed down, nor would she even dream of it. She knew political types. She knew his type. A challenge, Stanley had said. Well, let him be a challenge. Ria knew that Mr. McGarry was above Josh, and whatever Mr. McGarry told her was gold. Stanley relayed that information a few days prior, but she could infer it on her own. Leo McGarry was the Chief of Staff. Josh was only the deputy.

“Leo set up the appointment?”

“Yes, he did.”

He stood up to gather some files from his desk. “While Leo might have made the appointment, it doesn’t mean I have to keep the appointment. I have meetings to attend.”

“Including one with me.”

“What Leo doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

She tried to keep her expression as neutral as possible. If she had to talk to Leo McGarry, so be it. Though, suddenly, the thought of doing that made those jitters from earlier return.

“Mr. Lyman-”

“Look, if you want to stand there and preach, go ahead. But I have a very important meeting to attend and I’m already late.”

“Mr. Lyman-”

“And don’t call me Mr. Lyman. My father was Mr. Lyman. I’m Josh. Excuse me.” He turned his back on her to head out the door into the hallway.

“Josh-”

He turned to face her again. “No, Dr. Brewer-”

“Ria.”

“Ria. Whatever. I am busy, and Leo knows I’m busy. And I’m late. Talk to my assistant, Donna. Get it rescheduled.”

Josh left the office and Ria stood there, gripping her briefcase. She tried to rein in her annoyance, but if anyone were to pass by her, she’d imagine they would see frustration wrinkling the corners of her eyes and mouth. She counted to ten, slowly, reached in her jacket pocket to grab another piece of gum, and popped it in her mouth. The people milling about seemed to ignore her and she was glad, especially as she intentionally sought out Donna.

The blonde was sitting at her desk, typing away at something on her computer. Ria tried not to be nosy, but she couldn’t help it. She glanced over Donna’s shoulder, trying to decipher what was going on, but quickly decided that, even though she was curious, this was not a good idea. She looked away and cleared her throat.

Donna spun around in her chair. “Dr.-” She stopped herself. “Ria.” She glanced over Ria’s shoulder with a frown. “Did Josh-”

“Yes.”

The woman heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. Today of all days. He had a meeting with the Society for the Preservation of Possums, but Leo decided to take the meeting instead.”

Ria just stared at her for a moment. “The Society for the Preservation of Possums?”

“It’s ‘big block of cheese’ day.”

Again, Ria just stared at her. “Big block of cheese day?”

“Andrew Jackson had… No, no, I’m not going to tell you the story. It’s basically a day when groups who otherwise couldn’t get appointments can bring their issues to some of the senior staff.”

“Right,” Ria began slowly, “okay. If you don’t mind, go ahead and reschedule the appointment for Friday morning. In the meantime, is there any way I can speak to Mr. McGarry?”

“I’ll call Margaret and see if he has time available.”

She picked up her phone and dialed a number. Ria tried not to be nosy and read Donna’s lips as she talked, so she focused on the people milling about the fishbowl. Many of the faces were people she didn’t know or hadn’t seen before. Lower-ranking members of the administration who were never out in public, not like the Press Secretary or the President or even the Vice President. They were the ones on the fringes. Cogs in a well-oiled machine.

Jack would have loved this.

The thought stopped her dead in her tracks, and she had to take a deep breath to steady herself. Jack really would have loved this, the chance to see the administration in action, to see the White House with a liberal Democrat in office. It would have been his heaven and her chest ached as she looked around and tried not to think about him anymore. It wouldn’t do her any good and she knew it. She swallowed thickly and turned back to focus on Donna, who was still on the phone with Margaret.

But, as soon as she’d refocused her attention, the short conversation was over. and Donna looked up from her desk. “He just got back from the meeting with the possum people. You can go ahead and head on over.”

The mention of “possum people” made Ria snort softly. “Thank you, Miss Moss.”

“Please, call me Donna.”

“Donna. Right, of course. It was a pleasure to meet you. I’ll see you again on Friday?”

Donna nodded. “I’ll make sure his schedule is clear, and he can’t try and make any excuses.”

“Thank you.”

Ria didn’t get far in her quest to find Mr. McGarry’s office before Donna stopped her by tapping her on her shoulder. She turned to face the blonde with a smile and a slightly confused look.

The blonde proceeded to give Ria directions to Mr. McGarry’s office with an apologetic expression., “If you get lost, don’t be afraid to ask the guards for directions. They’re really sweet.”

“Thank you, Donna.”

Ria appreciated the tip as she spun on her heel and made her way down the hall in the direction she’d been given. She was grateful when she didn’t get lost and walked into Margaret’s office with an anxious smile. Her palms were clammy as she held her briefcase in both hands. The redhead returned the therapist’s smile, though hers was much warmer and more genuine, Ria noted silently. She was trying to think of anything but the fact that she was inches away from both Mr. McGarry’s office and the Oval. She was also trying not to think of Jack, not wanting to feel that tightness in her chest while meeting the second most powerful person in the world. That was the worst thing she could imagine happening.
Margaret greeted Ria, making sure to face her properly when she did. Ria was grateful for that, wiping a hand on her pants as briefly as she could before she extended it towards Margaret.

The red-haired woman shook it firmly before saying, “He’s just getting settled. I’ll tell him you’re here.”

Margaret disappeared through a door behind Ria’s shoulder, leaving Ria to her own devices for a moment. She took turns drying her hands on her pants before turning in anticipation of Margaret’s return. It didn’t take long, and the red-haired woman came bustling back in, that same warm smile from before stretching across her lips.

“He’ll see you now.”

Ria nodded, took a deep breath, and then stepped into the office of the Chief of Staff to the President of the United States.

Chapter Text

When Ria met Leo, the first thing she noticed was the Brooks Brothers suit he wore. It was a deep, navy blue, a crisp, grey, pinstripe shirt underneath. His tie, also Brooks Brothers, was striped blue and red. A red pocket square completed the outfit, just a shade different from his tie, but not similar enough to notice unless someone was really paying attention. The only reason she was was because she knew she was in the presence of the White House Chief of Staff. Though she was concerned with the business at hand, namely Josh and his insistence on blowing her off, she was also freaking out. 

Her heart hammered in her chest, and she could’ve sworn it was about to burst free at any moment. She didn’t know why she was scared of meeting Leo, but she was. Not only was her heart pounding, but her hands still felt like they were sweating. Who wanted to shake hands with the second most powerful man in the land with sweaty hands?

But her grip on the briefcase never slipped, despite the fact that she was holding slick leather. Maybe her palms weren’t as sweaty as she thought. 

At least Margaret had been kind. Maybe the red-headed secretary--who looked as well dressed as Leo--could tell how freaked out she was because before Ria walked into his office, she’d given her a gentle, reassuring smile before returning to her desk.

Leo’s desk was awash in natural light, but a lamp on the top of a file cabinet to her right was lit despite that and glowed amber. The papers strewn across it were no longer a crisp white but a warm, cream color. It must've been easier on his eyes, she mused, as she caught sight of Leo’s glasses, laying open, lenses down, on a stack of papers. CNN played on the TV behind her, but she couldn’t hear it. So, she put it out of her mind, even as he reached down and picked up the smooth black remote, turning it off.

The second thing she noticed about Leo was the control he exuded. Every single movement he made was done with precision and careful thought. Nothing was left to chance, and she admired him for it, even if she was still a bit nervous about meeting him. She did wonder, though, what his past was like. She’d heard tales of him. Secretary of Labor for a single term. Something about rehab for alcoholism in the early ‘90s. It had come to light a few years ago, but she hadn’t kept up. She’d been dealing with her own problems, and she didn’t need triggers to disrupt her life.

The rest of it was stuff she’d gleaned from snippets in newspapers. Veteran, the best mind in the Democratic party, enough pull to have been a higher-ranking member in a Republican cabinet. That spoke of respect, and that was part of what scared her.

“Sorry, about that,” he said, in reference to the television, and no doubt the noise it was making. 

He continued to speak, but his face was directed at an open folder on his desk which made it difficult for Ria to see what he said. 

When it looked like he was finished talking, Ria said, “I’m sorry, Mr. McGarry, I didn’t catch that.”

He looked up and faced her fully. “I apologize. Roger, your partner, told me you were deaf. It must have slipped my mind.” 

“It’s okay. You’ve been talking to people about possums. I can see how things might get lost in the nonsense.” 

Leo chuckled shortly, mirthlessly. “You have no idea.” 

“I can imagine,” she quipped as she held out her hand in introduction. “Dr. Ria Brewer. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McGarry.”

“Likewise, Dr. Brewer.” He shook her hand, then unbuttoned his suit jacket as he sat down behind his desk. “Have a seat, please.”

She took the seat and set her leather-bound briefcase on the floor with a soft thunk.

The third thing she noticed was his eyes. She’d peered into the eyes of many strangers in her life. Each pair a different color--a tapestry of what they’d been through in their lives. Each pair were beautiful windows to the soul. His was no different. A lifetime of suffering all laid out for her to see. They were beautiful. Grey, not really blue, but almost if the light hit them just right. They were trained on her, sizing her up. He was wondering if she could handle the mess Josh was in. He was wondering if she could handle him, right now in this office, sitting across from the second most powerful person in the world. She could see it in his gaze, and her own eyes narrowed a little.

“Donna told Margaret you needed a minute to talk about Josh.”

“I do. As you might already know, he had an appointment with me today and he blew me off.”

Something shifted in his expression. She detected a faint hint of amusement, which tugged his lips up into a small grin before it was gone.

“You weren't assigned an easy one, Dr. Brewer.”

She chuckled. “I’ve read the notes Stanley made in his file. Not to be unprofessional, but the word “asshole” was used more than once.”

The concern she could see on his face melted, and his lips curved into a smile as he laughed. And that was the fourth thing Ria noticed about Leo. His smile was made of sunshine that made her chest explode into warmth. Suddenly, the uncertainty from before lifted from her shoulders. The knot of anxiety that had settled between them loosened, and she found herself relaxing into the leather office chair.

“Not to be unprofessional, but Stanley’s right." The smile remained on Leo’s face and, for a brief moment, Ria couldn't breathe. “He’s damn good at what he does, but he hates talking about himself.”

She snorted softly. “Most everybody does, Mr. McGarry.”

“Please, call me Leo.”

Ria’s eyes quickly narrowed again, this time in confusion as she tried to keep from smiling and blushing. That wasn’t weird coming from the Chief of Staff, was it?

“In that case, call me Ria.”

“Ria. Josh is a busy man, but he needs to make time for this. Would you like me to talk to him?”

It was a tempting offer, and she almost took him up on it, but she found herself shaking her head. Let Josh be difficult. She’d dealt with difficult patients before; he wouldn’t be the one to get the best of her.

“No, thank you. I asked Donna to call Roger and reschedule for Friday.”

“It’s big block of cheese day. I’m sure Donna told you about it. It might be a while before you hear from her.”

“She told me the gist of it, yes. I can’t say that I understand it. She said something about Andrew Jackson and a literal block of cheese?”

There was that amused look again; the look that made his grey eyes sparkle with charm and mischief; the look that made the pain in them disappear. If Josh didn’t work out, maybe she could find excuses to speak to Leo.

“Have Josh tell you the story on Friday,” he began as he lifted himself from his chair. “I’m late for another meeting.”

He buttoned his jacket again as she stood smoothly, briefcase in hand.

“Apologies, Mr.—” she stopped and quickly corrected herself. “Apologies, Leo.”

He held up a hand as he gathered a folder and various papers from a nearby table. “No need to apologize,” he stated simply.

He gathered the papers and his glasses, slipping the latter into his inside jacket pocket. She stood there, watching him, for far longer than she should have. His entire body moved with precision and intent. Nothing was left to chance, and she continued to watch until he straightened and returned his gaze to her.

“Was there something else?” He asked, in a tone she could only assume was clipped and professional.

“No. Sorry. I’m used to being dismissed.”

She cleared her throat and murmured, "Have a good afternoon,” before she left his office and wove through the corridors to meet with Josh.

Later that day, Ria mulled over that brief meeting with Leo. Very few people calmed the hurricane of her mind. The swirling depths of anxiety which settled in her shoulders and chest used to be visible to only herself and Roger. Somehow, Leo McGarry had calmed her and managed the impossible. Whatever anxiety she’d walked into the White House with, he’d relaxed her with his air of calmness, his smile, and the way he seemed to accept her despite her being, for all intents and purposes, different. 

She didn’t think that to be self-deprecating. She was different. There was nothing she could do about that. The silence all around her was enough of an indication of that. She couldn’t change it. All she could do was try to get through the day and do it without getting overly tired or frustrated. It was harder to do now that she often insisted on doing things on her own. With Jack, it had been easy. She took him everywhere. Unlike Roger, he had no other job than to be her interpreter. Roger had his own patients which required her independence. She wasn’t complaining. What was the use? Thankfully, though, that day brought the refreshing calmness of the Chief of Staff of the United States. She never thought she’d be considering that, sitting in the bullpen of her private practice, with Roger typing up some notes for her. 

“Hey, Roger?” Ria asked suddenly

Her interpreter popped his head up and swiveled in his chair so he could sign, Yes? Do you need something?

What do you know about Leo McGarry? She replied with a tilted head and curious expression.

Besides what everyone else knows? Not much. Why?

She couldn’t very well tell him that, if Josh Lyman was in pain, so was Leo. Only he was in more pain, in ways she barely knew or understood. That’d give her away.

Ria worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. I met him today. He seemed interesting. Different from other politicians I’ve met.

That made Roger chuckle as he signed back, Different from Josh?

She frowned thoughtfully as she considered that question. She’d only met Josh briefly and they hadn’t talked much, but they’d talked enough for her to know the start of just what kind of person he was. She also knew the surface of the amount of pain he was in too.

Eventually, Ria signed back, No, not much different from Josh. He’s sterner, but there was something… she trailed off, her hands hovering in midair as she considered her next words, but nothing seemed to come.

Something… what? But she could tell Roger knew. Knowledge and understanding glittered in the browns of his eyes. She was in trouble. What did you see in him? What happened?

Her lips curved in a wistful smile that was tinged with uncertainty as she considered that question. Nothing happened in that office. Nothing out of the ordinary, anyway. It had been a run-of-the-mill conversation, save for him telling her she could call him “Leo." She still found that odd. There was no guarantee they would ever talk to each other again, and that didn’t seem like something he did with anybody.

Nothing. She shook her head to emphasize the word. She chewed on her lower lip as Roger’s shoulders shook with laughter.

“I don’t believe you for a second,” he began, opting to speak this time as he reached for the phone. It must be ringing. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, Ria Brewer.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she shot back.

Answering the phone, he immediately cradled it as he signed, It’s not, but it could be . Then his attention was on whoever was on the other end and she returned to Josh’s file…

Until, five minutes later, when a little pink slip slid into her field of vision. She barely looked at it, flicking her gaze up at Roger curiously instead.

“Seems you’re not the only one who’s intrigued.”

Ria stared at the slip for a long moment before finally reading it properly. It simply stated that Leo wanted to see her at ten o’clock in his office. She glanced at her watch. The ornate dial read 5:30. She had a few hours before she had to return to the White House. She decided that the time would be best spent working out Josh and how to approach his case of PTSD. So, when Roger finished transcribing an earlier session before she had gone to the White House, the two of them sussed out possible ways to approach Josh, even though it seemed like he adamantly hated every part of talking about himself in any way that was productive.

It took longer than she was expecting, though they did stop for dinner around seven. Ria watched the clock closely, and Roger watched her watching it. She knew how she must’ve looked to him. He kept watching her with an amused expression, his eyebrow quirked up to his hairline, silently asking if she was prepared for this. She never did answer him. But when she began to pack up her things for the evening, she knew he understood that she’d be fine on her own.

She left the office at 9:30 on the dot and headed to a small coffee shop to grab a late-night drink in case this took a while. Soon she found herself winding through the corridors of the White House again. Instead of going to Josh’s office, she bypassed it to head one door down from the Oval Office. It made her palms sweat again but, this time, it also made butterflies flap in her stomach.

Margaret was there when she entered. She sat dutifully behind her desk, typing up something, but greeted Ria happily when she came in.

“He’s just wrapping up with the President. He’ll be with you shortly,” Margaret said after she turned from the computer screen to face Ria so she could read her lips properly.

At the mention of the President, her stomach dropped to her feet and she swallowed thickly. “I’m not going to meet the President, will I?”

Margaret shook her head. “Not unless he drops in without warning. He’s been known to do that.” The color must've drained from Ria’s face because when Margaret looked back at her, she quickly continued, “But I wouldn’t worry about that. Once Mrs. Landingham is sent home, the President usually retreats to the residence.”

“Still doesn’t make me any less nervous.” Ria rocked back on her heels for a moment and shifted her purse to her other shoulder. “Did he tell you why he wanted to see me?”

The other woman shrugged and shook her head. “It could be anything, but it’s probably just about Josh. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“He doesn’t make it a habit calling people after hours?”

“He sees people all the time. I wouldn’t think too much into it.”

Oh, but Margaret was. If Ria was curious about why Leo had called her in at ten o’clock, Margaret was practically bursting at the seams. Ria noticed when the woman turned back to her computer screen. It was written all over her face, just like it was written all over Roger’s face. They both wanted to know what was going on.

If she were being honest, she wanted to know what was going on. She could feel her body thrumming with anticipation and nerves. The urge to check her hair and adjust her clothes hit her suddenly, but she dismissed the urge because a) there was no mirror, and b) the idea was ridiculous. This was a business call. Nothing more. Making it into something more was silly and unprofessional.

She was more concerned about those thoughts than paying attention to anything around her, which, in hindsight, was a bad idea. She saw the flash of a hand wave in front of her face and standing there, in all his glory, was Josiah Bartlet, President of the United States. Leo stood next to him as Jed shoved his hands into his pockets. Her face immediately turned red. Dear God. As if her day couldn’t get any weirder.

“Mr. President, I apologize. I— I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t realize— I wasn’t— Leo—” she cleared her throat. Did she call him Mr. McGarry in front of the President? She didn’t know. Christ. “Mr. McGarry invited me—"

“Yeah, I know,” Jed started, cutting Ria off with a chuckle. “Leo told me all about you. I have your FBI file, but I didn’t read it. Anyone good enough for Leo is good enough for me. You’re going to help Josh out, am I right?”

By then, Ria felt sufficiently recovered enough to smile graciously and nod. “I’m going to try my hardest, Mr. President. And I do apologize. I’m usually much more aware of my surroundings.”

“Think nothing of it. It’s not the first time someone got nervous in front of me or ignored me.”

For a moment, Ria was mortified, but she noticed the grin on Jed’s face and also on Leo’s, and she relaxed. Her shoulders slumped and her purse slipped a little, but she caught it, that smile still on her face.

“Your humor, Mr. President, is appreciated, but I can assure you, I wasn’t ignoring you on purpose.”

“I didn’t think so.” Jed paused for a moment and looked between Ria and Leo. “Well, I won’t keep you. I got the missus waitin’ for me at the residence and she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“No one does,” Ria said through laughter.

The grin on Jed’s face widened, and he said his goodbyes to the three of them before turning to leave.

Before he could get very far, Ria called out, “Mr. President?”

He turned. “Yes?”

“Is there any way that the press briefings could have an interpreter? I know it’s probably too much to ask, but I can guarantee that no one in the Deaf community likes to try to keep up with the delayed captioning. Captions are great, but it’s just…” she trailed off and motioned, hoping that maybe he would understand.

“Talk to C.J. Cregg. She could help you out.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” Jed replied before he turned and disappeared out the door to the residence.

As she watched him go, she missed the amused expression on Leo’s face, something that would have delighted her. Once he was gone, she turned to properly face Leo. Her cheeks were still flushed, and they felt warm. She was certain she looked like an idiot. She was still nervous as hell, and that encounter didn’t help matters much. Nor did it help that Leo was standing there, watching her, like he was trying to get a bead on her, but couldn’t quite do so. She felt the nerves rising in her stomach, but his face suddenly broke out in a warm smile.

“Come in, Ria. I’d like to talk to you,” he said before she stepped past him and into his office.

For the second time that day, Ria found herself standing under the warm lamplight near Leo’s desk and a round table with papers strewn about on it. She resisted the urge to steal a glance at them as she took her seat in the chair opposite his in front of his desk. She followed him with her gaze as he returned, shut the door behind him, and rounded his desk, sitting down in front of her. He sat back in his chair and regarded her with those grey eyes she felt she could almost read like a book. The rest of his body held a tension she could see but couldn’t understand.

“You know, or could probably guess, that things have not been easy around here for a few months.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Josh isn’t the only one who has been dealing with PTSD.”

There was a long pause before she replied, “Yes, sir.”

“I wanted to stress how important confidentiality is here and how important my staff is to the workings of this administration.”

“I understand. I do, but you’re not just talking about your staff, are you?”

He fiddled with a golden letter opener that sat on his desk. The amber light glinted from it and shone in his eyes for the briefest of moments. She kept her gaze leveled at him, even as he looked away to hide the faint glimmer of shame in his expression.

“No, I am not.”

It was a little difficult to read his lips from that angle, but she could guess what he was saying by his expression and the way he kept fiddling with the letter opener.

So, she pressed on. “What do you want to talk about?” She murmured softly.

Leo kept his gaze down at the table. Even though she couldn’t see into his eyes, she knew that faint glimmer of shame fanned into something bigger. This was something he didn’t want anyone to know about, least of all the President and the people he worked with. The stigma surrounding men and mental health was something she was acutely aware of. When he leveled his own gaze back on hers, she could see the uncertainty, the pain, the fear—this was something he understood and was aware of. So, she waited. She was nothing, if not patient. She could tell that what he needed was someone who didn’t know him. He needed someone who would hold no judgments against him if he were to be honest about what he was feeling.

“I flew F-105s for the Air Force in ‘Nam,” Leo began, sitting back in his chair and linking his fingers on his stomach. “I know the sound of gunshots.” 

The pose was a relaxed one, a stark difference from the pain and uncertainty earlier. It confused her. Her eyes narrowed as she considered him and watched him as he spoke. For all intents and purposes, he seemed composed and poised. He was the powerful man she’d seen on the television and the powerful man she’d seen earlier in this very office, but his eyes still held the pain. His gaze far off like he was no longer there in the office, but rather a million miles away. It was somewhere she couldn’t follow.

“You hear enough of them… they become like second nature. You hear them in everything.”

“Cars backfiring, doors slamming, fireworks. To list a few.”

He nodded slowly. “It’s painful, but eventually you get used to it. You pick yourself up and keep going forward.”

“Only…you can’t keep going this time.”

He swallowed and her gaze flicked to his neck briefly. “No. Not this time.”

“Was it because Josh was the one seriously injured?”

She knew the President had been hit too. It was front and center on the news cycle for a week and no one could escape it. She saw an influx of people who'd come to her little private practice because they were scared something like that would happen there too. A few people came directly from Rosslyn. She worked herself to the bone trying to help everyone. She was still reeling from the number of nightmares she’d heard, some in gory detail. It was what she took home with her. She could never compartmentalize everything she heard for any number of reasons. Her own tragic story was too difficult to reconcile.

“I watched him grow up. From afar, mostly. I knew his father, Noah. We were friends until he died during the primary three and a half years ago.”

She made a quick mental note to do some research about Noah Lyman. Maybe the information could help her understand Josh a little bit better. She had the feeling that talking to him on a weekly basis would probably yield very little, especially about his family.

“So, it scared you, watching someone you’ve known for a long time almost die?”

Instead of answering the question directly, he danced around it. “No one should see the battlefield in their own backyard.”

“So, you were scared.” It was a statement, not a question, one she could easily answer, even though he seemed relaxed. She wanted him to say it out loud and confront it.

“I still am. Every damn day I come to work I think, ‘my god, he could’ve died, and he still could.’ I know what PTSD does to a mind.”

He stood up and turned to the windows. A light dusting of snow had started to fall and the bushes outside his window were starting to turn white with the accumulation. She could see it over his shoulder.

The pause in conversation was telling. Even if she couldn’t hear him or hear the tone of his voice, she already knew that things were amiss. Earlier in the day when she’d met with him, he seemed more at ease. There wasn’t the tension in his shoulders like there was now. Sure, his movements were controlled, but that was different than how he looked now. His hands were clasped behind his back, fingers gripped tightly together yet trembling. His arms were tight. His body was rigid. Not controlled but something deeper.

“Have you talked to anyone before?” She asked with a curious tilt of her head.

He spun around to face her. “I don’t have PTSD.”

“I didn’t ask if you did.”

“I don’t,” he reiterated.

“Then why did you mention it?”

“Because Josh—”

“Yes, Josh has it, but I’m more concerned about you,” she said calmly, cutting him off. “You said you know what PTSD does to a mind. So, you’ve encountered it before Josh. Am I right?”

His eyes narrowed but her gaze remained trained on him. If he thought she’d roll over and concede power to him in this situation, he was wrong. Not that she thought that he would do that. She feared his anger—the quiet ones were the ones you had to watch—but she was in control here like this. He’d come to her, which maybe he thought that power came from that move, but it didn’t. Not like this. So, she continued to watch him as he sized her up with those grey eyes of his.

She could see the gears turning in his mind. He was thinking about trying to trip her up. He did have an advantage, she realized as she sat there. He’d read her FBI file. If he read her FBI file, he’d know about….

“You know PTSD too, don’t you Dr. Brewer?”

They were back to formal titles. She’d have to remember that the next time they talked.

“Yes, I do. But why don’t you tell me how it feels for you instead and we’ll go from there.”

He continued, despite her attempt to refocus the conversation on him and not her. “Tell me about Jack Miller. He was your fiancé, am I right?”

“You read about him in my FBI file, didn’t you?” Her voice was tight as she asked the question. She didn’t talk to anyone, least of all strangers, about Jack.

“He died, didn’t he? Killed himself in your practice. You were there when it happened. You found him.”

Ria held his gaze and didn’t look away from him. She should’ve known he would be like this if she pressed his buttons too hard. He might not have a reputation for being severe, but he could be if he wanted to. She was seeing that part of him. She was seeing a lot of him, all laid out bare before her like a well-handled leather-bound book. If he thought he was hiding behind the bravado, he’d be mistaken. Josh had tried to do the same thing in what little time she’d spoken to him. She’d seen straight through him too.

“Why don’t we stop talking about me and get back to you.”

His tightly curled fingers relaxed. The tremor in them was obvious as he sat down and hid them under the sturdy oak of his desk.

“I’d rather not.”

“Then may I ask why I’m here?”

Leo didn’t answer. For a long time, his steel-blue eyes stared at the desk in front of him instead of at her. She didn’t mind. If anything, the silence gave her enough time to collect her emotions and keep them from running haywire. She was still struggling with Jack’s death and it had been more than six years since he’d died. 

“I was shot down over Vietnam and wounded. It took three days to get back to safety. Three days in the Vietnam jungle. Surrounded by the Viet Cong and not knowing who to trust. I barely got out of there alive.”

“The shooting at Rosslyn reminded you of that.”

“Yeah. The chaos. The uncertainty. Not knowing if Josh was going to live. It brought it all back.”

In some small way, she understood what that felt like. The shooting hadn’t been easy on her either, and she’d only seen the aftermath on the news and read about it in the papers. The influx of patients who had been affected by it exacerbated her own deep-seated fears and memories. Losing Jack, the manner of losing him… she shifted in her seat and resisted the urge to grab a pen and start clicking it for some sort of distraction. 

She couldn’t tell him the extent of how much she understood that chaos and how it felt. All she could say was, “I know how that feels.”

The truth was, they had both been forged in flames.

Chapter Text

Ria left not long after his admission about Vietnam. The moment she did, the tension in Leo’s shoulders intensified, collecting at the back of his skull. He was on edge, senses amplified, body thrumming like a livewire, wanting to strike at anything and everything. But the hour was late, and he was likely one of the last people in the office beside the cleaning crew. He let them be. There was no point in losing his head. He couldn’t afford another slip-up. He wouldn’t subject the President to something like that again. If anyone was to take a figurative bullet from the press, it would be him and him alone. 

He grimaced at the thought. That was a rubbish metaphor and it sunk deep into the pit of his belly, settling there like a lead balloon. Emotions percolated around it until bile rose in the back of his throat, sharp and stinging. It took all his strength to hold back the wave of nausea, the taste of acid burning his tongue. He swallowed thickly, forcing it back, taking measured breaths to settle the swirl of uncertainty. 

It had helped before, but now he smelled gunpowder every time he breathed. It mixed with the scent of iron and cleaning solutions from the hospital he was held in after his escape from the jungle. Then came the smell of rotting flesh and motor oil. In the silence of his office, the beeping of that long-lost heart monitor was deafening. And, no matter how much he scrubbed, he could never wash away the bright red blood from his hands. It all mingled and mixed like some sickening cacophony of war he couldn’t outrun. No matter what he tried, No matter how much he wanted to.

And he desperately wanted it to stop.

Leo took another deep breath but couldn’t hold them back. The memories were so visceral, the shooting so vivid and clear. Josh’s blood seeping from his wounds, the EMTs and nurses yelling stats around his broken body, his clothes torn, the desperate sound of his weak, confused voice. In a moment of weakness, a weakness he’d not had since the week after the shooting, he doubled over his trash can and coughed up what little he’d eaten that day as if he were expelling the memories from deep inside. Only, when he rose to breathe and wipe his mouth, the memories were still there. 

Curse that woman. Curse himself for thinking talking to someone would somehow help him. He was beyond retribution, and beyond help. The best thing he could do was to ignore it all and pretend it hadn’t happened. None of it happened. Vietnam, Rosslyn, the bottom of a bottle, the never-ending pit of seedy hotels and prescription Valium. It never happened. Not to him. It happened to someone else. 

Clinical diagnosis: denial. He knew that much. 

But, no matter how many times he denied it to himself, the chaos never went away. Sometimes he wondered if it would’ve been better had he been the one to have been shot. The quick punch of a bullet to put him out of his misery; searing hot pain, then nothing. No memories. No violence. He’d be at peace. But, then again, he would never be that lucky. He was destined to remember, destined to struggle against his own demons, be it alcohol or other unhealthy substance he was only vaguely aware of. 

Leo cleared his throat before bending over the trash can to tie the bag up and then collect his things to return to his hotel room. Add that to the list of things he dealt with on a daily basis. He’d gotten used to it over the past year living at the Watergate. Sometimes it was easy. Other times, the thought of returning that impersonal place--full of opulence, but never his--teetered dangerously in his mind. It would be so easy to fall there, alone as he was, no one to pull him back. 

Damnit. 

He sat back in his chair and leaned heavily into it. The world felt heavy on his shoulders. He hated the feeling. With work, he could almost ignore it. Almost. Running a country was a different kind of weight. These memories were his world, not anyone else’s. Everyone else’s he could handle. He couldn’t handle his own. 

Leo let out a long breath and stared at the ceiling. His body still buzzed. He felt rudderless, unable to regain control of his feelings. One thing kept cycling over and over in his mind and he couldn’t get rid of it, no matter how hard he tried. He hated doing this, but…

He reached forward and picked up the handset, cradling it between his ear and his shoulder. Dialing the familiar number, he listened as the ringing cut through the noise of his mind. 

“Leo, you’re still in the office?” 

“Tell him to go home.” Jed’s voice echoed in the background, barely audible but distinct after he’d heard it so many times before. He chose to ignore it. 

“Uh, yeah, working on some budget stuff.” 

“Still putting out fires from the leadership breakfast?” 

He laughed weakly. “You know Toby.” 

“Too well, I’m afraid.” Abbey’s voice held the right amount of mirth, but the beginnings of worry were creeping into her tone. “Jed said you were talking to Josh’s new therapist.” 

“Dr. Ria Brewer, yeah.”

“So, you lied to me just then. What have I told you about lying to me?” 

“Not to do it,” he replied sheepishly. 

So few people could chastise Leo as well as Abigail Bartlet could. He wasn’t sure if it was because she was a doctor or because she was one of his best friends. He was more inclined to believe the latter, but it was possibly something else. Their shared love of the President, maybe. The fierce, innate desire to protect him. His was platonic love, hers romantic, but it was there nonetheless. Some days they would joke that Leo was Jed’s mistress. Maybe he was, in some ways, but he denied it. He always would. 

“Exactly. Don’t do it.” 

“Abbey--” 

“Don’t you ‘Abbey’ me, Leo.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Her heavy sigh sounded clearly over the handset. He wondered what she was doing, what he had interrupted, but he couldn’t force the question past his lips. It was like a block existed between his mind and lips, and he couldn’t figure out how to overcome it. 

“Seriously, Abbey, tell him to go home.” Jed’s voice was nearer the phone now. 

Leo imagined they were both sitting on the sofa in the residence. Side by side. His arm around her. Her head on his shoulder. Relaxed. Content. He was a tiny bit jealous. He didn’t have that anymore. 

“Jed wants me to remind you your home isn’t your office, Leo.” 

“You can tell the President I know that and I was about to leave.” 

“But you didn’t leave. You called us instead.” 

He swallowed back the uncertainty again, pushing forward. “I called you, Abbey. Not Jed.” He paused. “Just you.” 

There was silence on the other end. He held his breath and then heard Abbey tell Jed she needed a moment alone. 

“Tell him to come up here.” Leo heard those words and the anxiety, tension, and fear settling at the base of his skull eased up a bit. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

“Abbey, I--” 

“You heard the man, Leo.” 

Another weak laugh. “Yes, ma’am.” 

He hung up the phone without saying goodbye. He would see them in a few minutes anyway. A goodbye would have been pointless. 

Standing again, he gathered what he needed more earnestly this time. The fear of returning to his hotel room alone dissipated. A part of him realized Jed and Abbey would expect him to stay in the residence for the night. They had plenty of room, and Abbey would insist. She recognized the triggers. Recognized the way his voice changed when he wasn’t having a good time. Jed knew too, but he wouldn’t burden the President over this. Only, of course, typical Jed, he burdened himself with it, not like he didn’t have a thousand other things to deal with. Leo could curse the President sometimes. 

But he wouldn’t this evening. 

Turning off the lights, he headed down familiar halls to the residence. It had been a while since he last stayed there. He didn’t like to make a habit of it, but sometimes, Abbey being Abbey, she would insist. He appreciated her concern. It had saved him more times than he could count. 

The walk to the residence was quiet and, when he knocked on the door, the sound rattled about his mind for a second before Abbey answered. She swung the door open and invited him in. The click of the door closing allowed him a moment to relax and gather his thoughts, but not for long. Abbey immediately laid her hand on his arm and squeezed gently. 

“Take your coat off and stay awhile.” 

“Abbey--”

“You better do what she says,” Jed piped up as he entered the room.

“Mr. President--”

“How many times have I told you to call me ‘Jed’ while in the residence?” Jed asked as Abbey left to request some tea to be brought in.

“Far too many times.”

“And you’d think you would’ve changed that habit by now, but you haven’t.” 

“Mr. President--”

“Jed.” 

“Whatever,” he said wryly.

Despite his apprehension, and the fact he wasn’t going to call the President by his name, he smiled as he took off his suit jacket and hung it up on the coat rack. Toeing his shoes off, he also loosened his tie to maintain a semblance of relaxation. The residence wasn’t quite the house in New Hampshire, but it was still warm and cozy. He attributed that to Abbey and Jed being there and making it their own brand of homey, despite the trappings that were part and parcel of the White House. 

Leo’s mind wandered as he padded to the sofa and sunk into the soft cushions. Abbey returned and sat a respectful distance away on the other end of the sofa as Jed took up position in the chair across the coffee table from them. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Abbey asked gently, looking over as Leo rubbed the back of his neck. 

He thought it would be better being here with them, but the gnawing in his mind remained, the pain and memories rolling around sharply despite all attempts to beat them back with company. 

“Not really.” 

“But you probably should.”

“Yeah, I probably should,” he said dryly, dropping his hand to face Abbey. “But I’ve already done enough talking about it tonight. Thank you.” 

The president’s wife held up her hands in surrender as a porter arrived with their tea. Jed’s gaze was on him, and he wanted to disappear. This was a bad idea. He shifted a bit to get more comfortable, but no matter what he did, he could not escape that gaze, even as Abbey held out a cup of tea to him, and then handed one to her husband. He took a sip, letting it wash away the bitter taste in his mouth. 

“What do you think about her?” Jed asked after a moment. 

“Jed--”

“No, I want to know what he thinks about her.”

Abbey sighed heavily and lifted the teacup to her lips. “Typical. I get the two of you together and all you can talk about is work.” 

“Perks of the job, Abbey,” Leo smirked weakly. 

What did he think about her? Well, he liked her well enough to call her back to simply talk with her. That had to count for something, didn’t it? He mused more on the question. What did he think of her? God, what didn’t he think of her? She was capable and held her ground, especially when he started getting mean, the memories bubbling up and making everything hurt. He hated that, getting mean, and throwing her dead fiance in her face. Why did he do that? But she took it in stride. He admired her fierceness, her drive to stay on topic and keep the conversation on him and not her. There were demons there. He’d uncovered them easily enough but he appreciated the way she didn’t buckle underneath the weight of them. Unlike him. 

“I like her. If she wants the job, she’ll make a good consultant.” 

“Consultant?” Abbey piped up. “You’re thinking about bringing in a therapist as a mental health consultant?” 

Jed nodded. “We’ve been thinking about it since Josh’s evaluation by Dr. Keyworth.” 

She immediately got down to business, settling her teacup in her lap. “Stanley recommended her?” 

“He handpicked her to take over Josh’s case,” Leo said, an impressed tone to his voice. 

“And you’re observing how Josh reacts to her?” 

Leo tried to keep an amused smirk off his face, but he could feel it inching across his lips. “So far his reaction hasn’t been great.” 

“Nor has yours.” 

The chief of staff shot a glare at Jed. “It was better than his.” 

“Not by much,” despite the glare, Jed appeared amused, like he couldn’t believe his chief of staff could be one-upped, or intimidated, by a mere therapist. Leo’s nose twitched in anger, which Jed noticed. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. This was all your idea.” 

Jed was right. It was his idea, but the older man gave Leo the go-ahead to explore the possibility. 

“She needs a bit more time.” 

“I would hope so,” Abbey said. There were the faintest notes of exasperation in her tone. “Two therapy sessions aren’t enough to hand her a job.” 

“We know that,” Jed and Leo said in unison, both settling their gazes on her. 

“We have a plan,” Jed continued. “Don’t worry. We know what we’re doing, Dr. Bartlet.” 

Abbey shook her head and fell silent, drinking her tea. Leo felt a little better. His head had stopped throbbing and the tension in his shoulders was beginning to ease. He drank some more of his tea and then settled his head on the back of the sofa. His gaze flicked between Abbey and Jed, who were both gazing at each other. 

A tight pang of pain shot through his chest, and he tried ignoring it. He was a rubbish lover. He knew that now, but he still missed the quiet intimacies of having someone there, of having a wife and a lover. He missed the gentle way Jenny used to touch him when he was having a bad day, her slender fingers combing through his hair, the warmth of her body next to his. 

“I believe you, President Bartlet,” she said with a tiny smirk. 

“Knock it off, you two, before you drive me to drink again.”

A burst of nervous laughter rippled through the room, but Jed and Abbey were undeterred. 

“You know we’re like this.” 

He rolled his eyes fondly at Jed, settling further into the sofa and the warmth of the room amid the presence of his friends. “Yeah, I know. It doesn’t get any less weird as the years pass.” 

“Only weirder?” Abbey asked, that smirk still on her lips as she winked at him. 

“Only weirder,” He echoed in confirmation, teasing her. 

He was grateful for the break in tension, relief flooding through his body as Jed and Abbey chuckled. They moved on to talk about other things. The conversation took his mind and thoughts away from the infuriating blonde woman who had waltzed into his life. She upended it, in fact, and she didn't even know it. 

He couldn’t even be mad about it. In fact, he was more intrigued than angry, and that didn’t bother him one bit.

Chapter Text

The week passed quickly, full of meeting new patients and visiting with old ones. They kept Ria on her toes, as they always did, but no one did so quite like Josh Lyman did. She spent most of her free time brainstorming ways she could help him, coping techniques and approaches that wouldn’t make him angry. It was probably a fool’s errand, doing all this work for someone who would likely vehemently ignore her and walk away like he had before, but she was willing to try anything. That was her job, after all, and what she was finding would help her as well. 

After the meeting with Leo, where he brought up Jack and her own loss, she had been a wreck. The past few days, despite going by quickly, were tinged with pain—lots and lots of pain. She’d had a few sleepless nights that morphed into exhausted afternoons. Even her patients were starting to notice she was a bit off kilter, and she wished she’d thought to take a few mental health days, but she didn’t, and now she was suffering for it. Roger, bless him, attempted to pick up the slack and help where she needed him, but she was stubborn so insisted on doing it all herself. She knew he was upset about that little detail, but she didn’t care—she didn’t have any other choice. It was this or sit at home and cry and flip through old photo albums. 

No one would benefit from that. 

So, with a deep breath, she received her visitor pass from the guard outside the entrance of the White House, and wove through the corridors to the fishbowl and Josh’s office. She was a little earlier than usual. Traffic had become increasingly difficult for taxis to navigate around Dupont circle, and the idea of being stuck on the circle and then late for her meeting wasn’t something she wanted to deal with. It was bad enough the tendrils of fear and anxiety were beginning to creep through her body. 

Ria reached into her purse for some gum and let the familiar taste of cinnamon return her to reality. She had a job to do. 

As she strode into the fishbowl, she quickly noticed two things. One, it was a lot less busy than it had been that Tuesday. Two, Donna was not at her desk. She frowned and stood on tiptoes, trying to peer over partitions and unfamiliar heads in the hope she would spot the tell-tale blond. She did so to no avail, causing a frown to etch across her face. Ria knew Josh was already on the fence about her being his therapist and coming here for his therapy; she didn’t want to add to that by bursting into his office again. Though, thinking back on that Tuesday, it was slightly effective. 

She shifted her briefcase from one hand to another, and turned on her heel, walking to and into Josh’s office, and what appeared to be an argument between Donna and the boyish deputy chief of staff. Neither of them noticed her as her hand hovered near the door frame, ready to knock, but not quite wanting to break the tense conversation. Donna’s back was to her and Josh sat at his desk, which meant she couldn’t make out most of the conversation, but it was obvious it was about her. That didn’t bother her. It could be worse. 

Still unnoticed, she had some time to observe Josh in his element and unaware of her eyes on him. Everything about his body language oozed contempt and anger, his shoulders squared and rigid like he was ready for combat. His brows were deeply furrowed, his eyes narrowed, the lines at the edges of them scoured there. She loved observing people’s body language, but because of the circumstances surrounding this situation, doing so this time made her feel uneasy. Today wasn’t going to be a good day, but that was what she was there for. 

Ria lingered a few more moments, then knocked sharply on the open door. “Afternoon. I hope I’m not interrupting.” 

The mood of the room shifted in an instant. Donna plastered on a smile and turned to face Ria. The young therapist almost winced but held it back. It was obvious the blonde was holding back a slew of emotions, the smile stretched tightly and artificially across her lips. 

“No, you’re not. I was just leaving,” she said, doing just that. Without another word, she turned and left before Ria could say anything else and Josh could snap anything back at her. 

The young Deputy’s entire body radiated contempt, shoulders remaining rigid, movements tight as he stood up from his desk, motioned for her to sit across from him, then sat down again. She did, pulling out a recorder and setting it out on the wood across from her. He eyed it closely. 

“You can’t record me.” 

“I can’t not.” 

“Don’t you have an interpreter?” 

“I do.” 

“Why is he not here?” 

It was a legitimate question. It made sense for Roger to be a part of her practice because it would be easier. Especially if she had trouble with a patient or she couldn’t understand what was going on. To most people, a deaf person being trailed by an interpreter was a normal thing. Ria, however, cherished her independence. She’d grown up surrounded by hearing peers and hearing teachers, and had been expected to try her best and assimilate with her peers. That was what she was used to, but for people who assumed that Deaf people couldn’t live with that level of independence, it always threw them off. Ria recorded all of her sessions and Roger transcribed them later. It was just what she did. 

She smiled lopsidedly. “I figured the less people privy to this knowledge, the better. Especially in your line of work.” 

His expression and demeanor changed minutely, but it was enough for her to recognise that he was grateful, even if he didn’t voice it. Josh motioned for her to continue. 

She set the recorder up, pressed the button, and then began. “Joshua Lyman. January 19, 2001.” 

Josh looked amused. She noticed, but before she could point it out or say something about it, the expression was gone. Her own lopsided smile remained, though, and she gave him her full attention. 

“How has your week been?” 

He shrugged. “Fine.” 

Her eyes narrowed, unconvinced, but she let it go for the moment. “Could you tell me what you’ve done this week? How did talking to the Society for the Preservation of Possums go?” 

“We talked about possums. There’s nothing special about that. As for the rest of my week, I’ve been to work, gone home, and then done it all over again.” 

“Nothing else exciting?”

“Despite what movies might imply, the life of a White House staffer is not all that exciting.”

“I don’t know. It looks pretty exciting to me. But, maybe I’m biased.”

He shrugged. “Maybe.” 

She remained quiet for a long moment. “How was your Christmas?”

“I went to see my mom in Connecticut.”

“How was the trip?” 

“Fine.” Another quick narrowing of her eyes. “What? You’re not content with that answer, are you?”

She shrugged. “You tell me.” 

A smirk danced across his face, his brown eyes sparkling. “I know what you’re doing.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “What am I doing?”

“You’re trying to get me to open up. By opening the floor to me, you’re trying to get me to talk.”

“Maybe I am.” 

“It won’t work,” he began, eyes imitating hers as he shuffled around papers on his desk. “It’s called ‘reverse psychology’, Dr. Brewer. I use it all the time with members of congress.” 

She pretended to look impressed. “Does it work on them?” 

He breathed out a mirthless chuckle. “Sometimes.” Tendrils of annoyance snaked across the lines of his face, like he was already exhausted from this charade, like he wanted to run away to the furthest parts of the White House and hide. But she wouldn’t let him do that. “Is this how you practice therapy on people?”

“Maybe,” she began with a soft chuckle. “Why, do you not like it?” 

“I can’t seem to find the point in it.” 

“There is a point, Josh, it’s just that there are steps to the process. I’m on step one, and you’re trying to jump to step fifty five.” 

“There are that many steps?” His nose twitched, jaw tightening at the thought. She sympathized with him. She’d been frustrated when she began therapy with Roger. It was never easy. 

Ria shook her head. “No, there aren’t that many steps. In fact, there aren't any steps. It’s more…” she trailed off, searching for the right word, “fluid than that. Ever changing.” 

He raked his hand through his curly hair. “Good to know.” He paused. “So, I take it the first step is just talking about mundane things until you get bored and then say the session is over?”

“No, it’s not that either.” 

“Then what the hell is it?” Heat bloomed across his face as his hand came down hard on the desk.

“I’m trying to build trust with you,” she said, careful to ensure her voice stayed even and calm. 

“Oh, is that what it is?” 

A single nod in acknowledgement. “Yes, it is.” 

“So, you think establishing a rapport with me is what'll get you the ‘in’ you need to fix me.” 

She considered that for a long moment. “Yes.” 

He pursed his lips and started rummaging through the files on his desk. She watched him closely, much like she had when she first came in. Contempt radiated off of him, seeping into every movement, but she was a patient woman, a patient therapist. She could wait for him to open up, or not. It was his choice, but regardless, she’d be there. If they stared at each other for an hour, then so be it. She’d get somewhere somehow. Stanley knew what he was doing when he assigned her to him. 

“Christmas was nice.” He finally stopped rummaging and fiddling with the papers and looked at her, giving her his full attention. “Mom got me way too many presents. Clothes I didn’t need. A couple of kitchen gadgets she thinks I’ll use that’ll just collect dust. Maybe one day I’ll use them, if I ever have the time.” 

“Parents are like that, aren’t they? Mostly what happens is they see something and it reminds them of you, so they buy it.” She smiled. Her parents had done the same thing this Christmas, even though she didn’t have a great relationship with them. “What did she get you?” 

He didn’t answer for a long moment, but a brief smile flitted across his lips, a smile he quickly squashed. But it was telling, and a bit of a relief. 

“She got me some sweaters, you know, because it gets cold down here and it snows. She also got me some winter socks she swears are water resistant in case I get my shoes wet. You know, because of the snow and rain. She likes me being prepared for things.” 

“She sounds like a good mother to have.” 

“She is.” He glanced down at his desk for a time, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure. She didn’t push. He looked back at her. “I miss her sometimes. Especially now, feeling like I have nothing to grab hold of. She’s always been a great mom, even when I…” he trailed off, staring at a fixed point over Ria’s shoulder, eyes glassy, like he was peering back at some foundational memory so rooted inside of him, so hidden, she couldn’t see it yet. 

But there was no denying how it affected him. Josh quickly stood from his chair, so quickly it thumped against the window behind his desk. She felt the slight vibrations under her feet, and the light shifted and shimmered as the wood-colored blinds swayed back and forth. He started hastily grabbing papers and folders, anything to hide the shake in his hands she noticed almost immediately. She’d seen that tell-tale sign before in her own hands.

“Josh?” Ria quietly asked, hoping he would reorient himself and calm down. 

“I’m late for a meeting. You need to leave. I’m late for a meeting.” 

“Josh--” 

But what she was about to say was cut off by a sharp “Donna!” 

Ria left the tape recorder running, standing so she could see the full conversation between him and his assistant, who immediately rushed into the office, lines creasing deep at the corners of her eyes as she frowned fiercely. 

“Yes?” 

“Where are the budget reports from this week?” 

“I laid them on your desk yesterday.” 

“They’re not on my desk now.” 

“Why do you need them? You’re kind of busy with other things right now,” she said, motioning to Ria who was obviously still in the room.

Josh shook his head, pointedly ignoring the therapist. “I’m late for a meeting.” 

Ria shot a quick glance over at Donna. The other woman appeared distraught, uncertain, and barely holding it together, all in that order. The muscles in her jaw clenched and unclenched as she fiddled with her hands, like she wasn’t sure of what to do with them or where to put them. The entire office suddenly seemed to vibrate with nervous energy. Ria couldn’t be sure if it was Josh, Donna, or their combined unease. Either way, she knew she had to do something. The time for observation was over. 

“Mr. Lyman,” her accented voice cut through the tension, apparently just firm enough to catch his attention and extricate him from the cycle of intrusive thoughts overtaking him. 

“I told you not to call me that,” he snapped. “Mr. Lyman was my father.” 

“It got you to listen to me.” His eyes narrowed, but she pressed on. “You’re not late for a meeting. I’m here for another forty-five minutes, and I’m not leaving.” 

“You’ll do anything I tell you to do. I’m the Deputy Chief of Staff, Dr. Brewer.” 

Ria had to hold back a laugh. She turned to Donna, whose eyes were as wide as cup saucers. “Donna, you can go back to work. We’ll be fine here.” 

“Are you sure?” The therapist could tell the other woman was nervous to leave them alone. 

“I’m sure.” 

Josh must have protested behind her, because the last thing she saw before Donna turned and left, was an insistent, “No, Josh. You stay with her.” before the door shut firmly behind her. 

Ria immediately turned back to face the young man just in time for him to say, “Is this going to be a weekly occurrence? You think you can do my job, and my secretary’s job all at once?”

“You don’t have a meeting, Josh. Mr. McGarry made sure of it. Donna made sure of it. I made sure of it.” She let her words hang in the air for a moment before motioning Josh to sit back down. The young deputy reluctantly did so. “What you’re experiencing are intrusive thoughts. They are almost like an earworm. You know how you might hear something and it repeats over and over again in your head? Those are intrusive thoughts.” 

He scoffed, brushing off the idea. “I don’t have intrusive thoughts.” 

“You just did, and you just voiced them in front of me, and in front of Donna.” 

A brief look of horror flashed across his face, but as quickly as it was there, it disappeared again. “What did I say?” 

She let that question hang as she considered the implications of it. 

“You said, ‘I’m late for a meeting.’” 

Upon finishing those words, Josh’s entire demeanor seemed to deflate like a balloon. All the bravado and the masks he hid behind fell away, and for the second time, she caught a glimpse of the real Josh.

They stood there quietly, for an undetermined amount of time, before she sat down, motioned for him to do the same, then continued, “How has your mother been someone you can hold onto?” 

He complied and took a seat as he considered that question. 

“Well, she’s my mom,” he said wryly, like that explained everything it needed to. 

“My mom would trade me in for a hearing child if given the opportunity,” Ria deadpanned.

Josh snorted softly. “So, I take it I can’t get away with that answer?” She shook her head and he took a heavy breath. “We had a death in the family when I was younger, and Mom was kind of the rock. She held everybody together. She’s always been like that.” 

“We all need mothers like that. It’s good that you have one.” He didn’t say anything to that, so she took the opportunity to continue. “Does she know about how you’ve been doing?”

His nose twitched and he blinked, ducking his head to hide the reaction before he lifted his gaze again. “No.” 

“As cliche as this sounds,” she began through a light, mirthless chuckle, “how does that make you feel?” 

“Scared,” he answered immediately.

“Okay.” 

He stared at her. “Angry.” 

“Okay.” 

He offered another emotion. “Disgusted.” 

“Okay.” 

“Are you going to say anything other than ‘okay’?” Josh asked, frustration evident.

“Only if you stop lying to me.” 

“I’m not lying to you.” 

Ria held his gaze, not looking away from him. She felt like she was staring into his soul, but instead of being easy to read like Leo was, he was a closed book. Everything about him was tight and controlled. He needed to be the one in charge, but she wasn’t going to let him. Not here. Not like this; not while she was trying to help him. She controlled the room, and she watched as that realization dawned on him. Most of the time, Josh Lyman was the smartest person in the room. He held the cards. He wore the mask. He was in control. 

Today, that was not the case. 

He crumpled under her gaze, muttering through clenched teeth, “Jealous.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t--” 

“Jealous,” he repeated, fire in his eyes, just like several minutes before, but this was different. He was fully aware and conscious now. “Everyone else goes through their lives like nothing happened, but here I am, sitting in my office, talking to a shrink in the middle of the day, because I can’t listen to music. I can’t walk out of my own apartment some days without thinking and feeling like I’m going to die. Like today is the day it’s going to happen. Some days I can’t function because it feels like every little thing is pressing down on me. Then, it all snaps, and I lose little bits of time, and I don’t know what I’m saying or what I’m doing. I hate it.” 

“You hate it because you can't control it.” It was part question, part statement, but Ria could guess the answer. 

“Yes. I’m out of control.” 

“And this doesn’t help.” Again, it wasn’t a question. She knew her presence here was unwelcome.

“No. In fact, I think I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

This time, she didn’t put up a fuss. She reached forward to turn off the tape recorder and replace it in her briefcase.

“I think that was a good place to stop.” She stood and held out her hand for him to shake, which he did. “Thank you for being honest.” She dropped her hand. “If you start to notice some intrusive thoughts start to cycle, go ahead and try to write them down. It might help you make sense of things.” 

“Or I’ll just be fully conscious when things start going haywire,” he stated dryly. 

“Maybe,” she acquiesced. “I think it would be good to be conscious when that happened.” 

“So I could stop it?” He asked, a bit of hope replacing the anger in his expression. 

“It’s a step, yes.” She gave him a soft smile. “Have a good day, Josh.” 

Ria turned on her heel then, and left his office, leaving the door open behind her as she did. Donna perked up a little as she saw Ria leave, the therapist noticing as she approached the other woman’s desk to say her goodbyes. 

“Go easy on him today.” 

“Easier said than done,” Donna retorted sadly. 

Ria laid a hand on Josh’s assistant’s shoulder and squeezed it, before leaving to return to her practice.

Chapter Text

The can of worms Leo opened in that meeting continued to plague her. Everywhere she went she saw Jack. She spotted him in the coffee shop she frequented every morning, the one run by a crew who knew sign language, making it easier for her to communicate. He would appear randomly on the street as she walked to work or on her way home, vanishing into the crowds. Every time it felt like a hand was squeezing her heart, making it hard to breathe.

After talking to Josh on Friday, she managed to get through the rest of her appointments, but it was an uphill slog. By the time the evening came and she was heading home, all she wanted to do was lay in bed and sleep, letting the world pass her by. But there was still work to do and research to read. So, she powered through, and, on Saturday, finally took a much-needed break.

Ria knew she was a workaholic. A lot of those tendencies had everything to do with the six years that had passed since Jack’s suicide. She knew that. Roger knew that. They lingered on that very topic during the lunchtime sessions they tried to have every week. She had a feeling she might need to schedule them more frequently if her current frame of mind was anything to go by. The thought made her nose wrinkle as she wiped off the fogged-up bathroom mirror. She didn’t want to subject herself to that, but her oft-repeated line of “doctor heal thyself” flitted through her mind.

She brushed her teeth viciously and blow-dried her hair while maintaining the same scowl and wrinkled nose. The expression remained until she was ready to leave, not budging while she dressed, applied makeup, and French braided her hair. It was cold outside, but at least the snow had melted. Puddles of water and dripping icicles were visible out her bedroom window as she shoved on her dark brown combat boots. She took a moment to roll up her jeans a little so they wouldn’t get wet, before grabbing the various bits of outerwear and the purse needed to take a walk and clear her head.

Ria loved strolling through D.C. on the weekends. She enjoyed the feel of the crowds and how she felt within them. So long as she knew an easy way out, and wasn’t stuck on the Metro with a bunch of people. Truthfully, she hardly used the Metro unless she absolutely had to. Barreling underground, squeezed in with the masses, sandwiched together like sardines in a tin can? She was going to have to pass on that. She preferred walking anyway. Roger complained about her lack of service dog, but he'd have to be patient. Cocoa had just begun training and would be ready to accompany her soon.

So, she walked by herself, purposefully taking residential roads to shoot pictures of the architecture in some of the older neighborhoods and richer areas of town. She’d lived in the city for ten years, but it never got old. The properties always managed to look different and, sometimes, she missed a few altogether. She reveled in the history surrounding her and was grateful Jack convinced her to move all those years ago.

There he was again. Jack. The memory stopped her dead in her tracks, making it difficult to breathe. She could picture him clearly in her mind, standing before her and smiling that toothy grin of his, his green eyes shining. God, she missed him something fierce. Six years had not undone the damage his death caused, and she feared time would never fix it. She hated that feeling almost as much as she hated feeling like she couldn’t breathe on the streets of D.C. She felt like an idiot, but she knew better.

Doctor, heal thyself .

When the feeling finally faded, she found herself wandering farther away from the typical tourist traps, and deeper into an unknown nook of the city. She ended up in a book shop with a little café that wasn’t particularly busy, and she gratefully pushed the door open. She imagined a little bell tinkling above her head as she did that, but she didn’t look up to check. Sometimes imagining things was better than knowing the truth.

The shop smelled of coffee, whipped cream, and baked goods, alongside paper, ink, and the faintest scent of leather. She took a deep breath to calm her anxiety, then ambled further in to peruse. After picking up a handful of books, including a biography on Abbey Bartlet, she found herself in the little seating area of the cafe. The aroma of coffee and cookies was much stronger back here. Setting her pile of books near the edge of a little round bistro table, she hooked her purse over the back of a chair before sitting down. She thought about ordering a drink but decided against it. She didn’t want to have to deal with that difficulty.

She reached for Dr. Bartlet's biography, examining the other patrons around her in the process. She enjoyed people watching almost as much as she enjoyed reading. But because it was so cold and damp outside, people were thin on the ground. As she settled back in her seat and propped her feet up in the chair across from her, she noticed two weird things. One, a man near the back of the small café was wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses. Two, another man, about two tables away from the first, wasn’t really reading the book he held. Instead, he was constantly surveying the surrounding area. The one in the aviators was definitely reading though. Or, no, he was doing a crossword puzzle. It made her smile.

It wasn’t the only thing making her smile. The Aviators man was doing the crossword in pen. She admired people brave enough to do crosswords that way. She knew she couldn’t, but it always amused her. He was also dressed rather more sharply than for a typical outing to a coffee shop or even a bookstore. She was pretty sure his indigo blazer was designer. The sunglasses were as well. She tried not to stare but he looked good, all pressed and polished. A white button-down, the collar of which lay perfectly over a brown sweater vest, was topped off with khakis—pressed with pleats down the front! —and brown shoes. She swooned. Got to love a sharply dressed man. A familiar-looking sharply dressed man, but she pushed that thought from her mind.

After that initial once over, during which she hoped she didn’t stare too much, she returned to her reading and left the man alone. She hoped that a distraction would halt the stupid memories that had ruined her week.

Almost as soon as she started her dive into Dr. Bartlett’s life, she spotted a hand waving in front of her face, just over the top edge of the book. The man in the aviators was standing near her table, his newspaper folded and tucked under his arm.

“Is this seat taken?”

Well, now she knew part of the reason she swooned. She knew he looked familiar.

“Just by my feet,” she replied as she moved them from the chair. “Go ahead.” She had to stop herself from speaking his name out loud. Anyone wearing aviators indoors definitely didn’t want to be recognized.

Leo sat down and settled his newspaper beside her stack of books.

“That’s a good one,” he began, motioning to the book in her hands. “Danny Concannon works in the press room. You’ll meet him one day, I’m sure. Especially if you talk to CJ and start working with her to get an interpreter in on the briefings.”

“He writes for the Washington Post, doesn’t he?”

He nodded. For a moment, they sat in silence. His Secret Service agent glanced over at the pair of them, alarm creeping into his expression. Leo surreptitiously waved him down.

“What brings you here today?”

“Besides this stack of books?” she asked through a laugh.

He smiled, an expression that caught her off guard. He’d smiled that evening outside the Oval Office when she humiliated herself in front of the President. This was a bit warmer, a bit more open and inviting. She wasn’t exactly sure what to do with it.

“Yes, besides the books.”

She shrugged. “I try to get out on the weekends. If I don’t, I’d hole up in my apartment, work, and never come out.”

“Sounds like someone I know.”

“You?” She teased.

“I was going to say, Josh,” he chuckled. “But that’s a fair assessment.”

She finally closed her book to give him her full attention, but she wasn’t willing to touch that admission with a ten-foot pole.

“What about you?”

It was his turn to shrug. “I like their coffee.”

“For some reason, I don’t believe you.”

“I didn’t think you would,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “Would you like to take a walk?”

There was a part of her that wanted to say no. Not after that display in his office. Not after he made her an aching wound for the past few days. She smiled but didn't answer the question. What in the hell was she doing? He was Leo McGarry. Chief of Staff in the White House. The second most powerful man in the world. She suddenly felt like Annette Bening in that one movie she always watched when it came on TV but couldn’t remember the name of. Did she say yes and risk newspapers or tabloids posting about it? Did she say no and keep it professional? The fact of the matter was, he wasn’t her patient. Not technically. Josh was.

She must’ve sat there without answering for too long because, eventually, Leo piped up. “You could say no. I won’t be offended.”

Ria blinked a moment, and the smile on her face grew.

“I’m sorry. Yeah. Yes. Of course. Though,” she glanced over to his Secret Service agent. “He won’t freak out if we do, will he?”

“Who? Peter?” Leo turned to look at his body man. “He’ll be fine.” He swept up from his chair to stand. “Can I carry some of those books for you?”

She stood as well. “I don’t know. Can you?”

“You’re as bad as Toby. May I?”

“You may. Thank you.” A pause as she watched him. “Toby is the communications director, right?”

“He is. I doubt you’ll ever meet him. Unless he’s in the press room when you talk to CJ.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

Reaching for her coat, Ria turned away to shrug into it and settle her beret on her head. In the coffee shop’s window, she caught a glimpse of Leo’s reflection, and couldn’t help but wonder about the odd expression she saw him wearing. Was that... directed at her? If it was, why did he look like that? She couldn’t be sure, but when she turned back around, her thought process was derailed when she saw him carrying her books. A smile replaced whatever it was she thought she’d seen in the window. 

“I take it you haven’t paid for these yet?”

“No, not yet.”

So, they made their journey to the front of the store and he deposited the books on the counter. She paid, picking up a nice canvas book bag as well to put them in. As soon as they were finished, they walked out onto the street, Peter trailing behind them. More snow and ice had melted while they were inside, and she walked through the puddles, enjoying his company.

The contented silence between them was soon broken when Leo tapped her arm to get her attention.

“I apologize for the other day. That was out of line.”

“Apology accepted.”

He paused on a street corner as they waited for the light to turn red and the “walk” sign to light up for the crosswalk.

“That’s it? Apology accepted? Just like that?”

“You’re not used to that, are you?”

“I’m used to explaining myself or dealing with cabinet members who hold grudges, yes.”

“I don’t hold grudges. Yes, I’ve been struggling since Wednesday, but I struggle all the time.”

The light turned red and they crossed, Leo unusually quiet as they did. She found herself watching him out of the corner of her eyes. He seemed to be considering her words and considering them closely. She didn’t know many therapists who admitted they struggled with their own personal demons. Maybe he didn’t either, and that was why he seemed rendered a bit speechless. She never pretended she was a regular therapist. She never pretended to be anything she wasn’t. If that meant being honest and wearing her heart on her sleeve, so be it. Though, the worry still bothered her. He was still Chief of Staff. He could still do what he did again. Maybe he would, but at least she’d be prepared next time. If there was a next time.

“I understand. It takes guts to do what you do every day after…” He trailed off.

She nodded. “I try my best.”

He fell quiet again as they walked through the neighborhoods. Usually, she would stop and take pictures, but with him, she refrained until they ran across a cemetery still full of snow. It was melting, sure, but a patch of the cemetery remained untouched.

She stopped walking, and immediately pulled out her camera, unaware of whether Leo was aware of what she was doing or not. He hadn’t, but something, probably Peter’s voice calling out his name, made him stop and return to where she was taking pictures.

She continued shooting until her camera began to automatically rewind. Straightening, she waited for the vibrations to stop. When they did, she immediately pulled the film out and stuck it in a canister she produced from her purse. 

When she finished, she looked over at him and grinned. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” He paused then continued. “You like taking pictures?”

“Just certain things. Like architecture, and anything that catches my eye.”

He regarded her for a moment with those grey eyes she could get lost in. “You’re an interesting woman, Ria.”

She beamed warmly. “I get that a lot.”

Before he could answer, though, Peter approached them and leaned in to whisper something into Leo’s ear. She thought the body man must’ve figured out she was deaf because he was careful to hide his lips from her view as he spoke. Leo nodded once, twice, three times, before Peter straightened and stepped away to give him space.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”

She waved off the apology with a flutter of her hand and a grin. “Go ahead. It’s fine. It was nice running into you.”

“Yes, it was. Have a nice day, Ria.”

Leo and Peter walked back the way they came. In the distance, she watched them get into a sleek black sedan on the corner of the street. It was weird, but she didn’t think anything of it. What she did think of as she turned and started the walk back toward her apartment was that she’d spent some of the afternoon in Leo McGarry’s company. She didn’t know what she thought of that, but there were butterflies in her stomach, and she absently--and probably somewhat foolishly--wondered if he felt the same.

Chapter Text

On Monday, Leo was armed with a list. Handwritten in his no-nonsense scrawl, double spaced, and consisting of two columns on yellow college-ruled paper. Now he just needed an opportune moment to speak with the President. He entertained the notion of springing it on him, pulling Jed from one of the many meetings he had today--Leo had already cornered Charlie about the schedule--but something held him back. He could feel it, a little niggle in the back of his mind, just enough to make him hesitant. 

Following his run-in with Ria the day before, he couldn’t shake a strange sensation in his chest. He thought maybe some sleep would alleviate it, but it still lingered that morning as he got dressed and went through the motions of tying his tie, his mind elsewhere. He played their little jaunt over and over again in his head, the way her blonde hair fell delicately over the soft shoulders of her jacket; the dim light of the winter sun catching in her eyes.

He’d never seen anyone quite as poised as Ria. Regal. Her every movement seemed destined for something greater, greater than she was aware of. He enjoyed their quiet moments together, despite their brevity. They were a welcome respite from the intensity of the events that followed. Obviously, they’d stuck with him, because there he was, still thinking about her and all those little things even now, sitting in his office, fingers tapping on his desk, glasses perched on his nose, rereading the same paragraph in some proposal for the sixth time. 

He checked his watch. Nine thirty. 

Then it hit him. 

He was anxious. Not anxious in a way that left him sick to his stomach or made his skin crawl, but a nervous, excited anxious as he considered presenting this list to the President. He was itching to get the ball rolling so he could see Ria again, and keep seeing her. It was a foreign feeling, and he wasn’t entirely sure if it was good or bad or somewhere in between. 

He checked his watch again. 

It was somewhere in between. 

A knock sounded on his door, pulling him from his thoughts. “Come in.” 

Of all the people he expected to see enter, Abbey Bartlet was not one of them. 

“Abbey,” Leo slid his glasses off and placed them in his inside jacket pocket. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I wanted to check on you, see how you were doing.” 

The worried tone in her voice grated on his nerves. “Abbey--”

“There you go again, not accepting help.” 

His eyes narrowed. “I’m fine.” 

“Really? Because Charlie seems to think you were a little punchy this morning.” 

“He told you that,” Leo began dryly, “or did you pry it out of him?”

“Both, but what does that matter?” 

He had nothing to say about that and sat sullenly for a moment. He considered keeping quiet, and not telling her about what he was feeling. He couldn’t tell Ria, and he wouldn’t dare say anything about the psychologist to her face. That was something he didn’t want to broach, and certainly not head-on. The only problem was, Abbey could always see right through him. Even when he was a fall-down drunk, and popping pills to numb the pain, she saw through the bravado, and always steered him, or attempted to steer him, in the right direction. 

He did not doubt she would try to do that now. 

“Anyway, that wasn’t the only reason why I came over.” He motioned her to continue, which she did. “Have you and Jed figured out a shortlist for a mental health consultant yet?” 

Leo tried to ignore the way his stomach and heart jumped into his throat. “We’ve made a list, yes.” 

“You put together the bulk of it.” 

“Yes,” he freely admitted.

“Jed was never good at paying attention to any doctor or physician that crossed his path. Unless it was me or someone associated with me.”

“You created a bit of a blind spot.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s a bad thing.” 

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” 

Abbey chuckled softly and slid into one of the chairs across from him. “Let me see this list.” 

He pulled out the page of names from under the files and folders spread across his desk, trying to hide the slight shake of his hands. Damn this feeling. Damn it all to hell. If Abbey noticed, she didn’t say anything. He was grateful for that as she reached across the desk for the paper. 

Once settled back down, her brown eyes roamed intently over the list. It felt strange, sitting there, his stomach doing somersaults across from the President’s wife, who appeared cool as a cucumber and as composed as ever. That’s how he should be and instead, he felt like an utter mess. He hoped what he felt inwardly wasn’t showing outwardly on his face. That would be embarrassing, and Abbey would ask far too many questions. He knew her too well. Thankfully, she was so focused on the list, she wasn’t paying attention to him. He took the opportunity to breathe and focus on calming himself. 

Charlie was right. He was a bit punchy today. 

After a few moments, Abbey looked up and wordlessly grabbed a pen from his desk. 

“Whitaker is a no. He’s too partisan for what you’re looking for, and he’s a crap physician.” 

“Abbey,” he began, but quickly trailed off, shaking his head. 

“If you want to keep him, look at his record. You can thank me later.” 

“Noted.” 

She scanned down the first column of names again. “Hmm, Merritt is too partisan too. Doesn’t believe in gun control either.” 

“We’re not making the argument for gun control.” 

“Yes, you are, and you know it.” 

Leo didn’t argue with that. He couldn’t. He knew deep down arguments or those very things were being drafted as they spoke. Sam and Toby were probably already adding something about it to the State of the Union, which was only a few weeks away. It was a slippery slope, though, and in order to get their foot in the door, they needed a consultant who had, or would, advocate for gun control along with mental health. A Democrat, or, if he was lucky, Ria. His heart jumped into his throat again but he swallowed it down. 

“Then go ahead and mark off all those you know are against the issue.” 

He watched as she did just that, systematically marking off the ones who wouldn’t work with Josh, didn’t believe in gun control advocacy, or were just too partisan. By the end of it, she’d whittled it down to one column of names, visible from where he sat when she set the paper in her lap. 

“Bradford you can sway. He’s been on the fence for years, and just hasn’t had the right push. Same with Darcy and Tinsley.” 

“You left some Republicans on that list, I hope?”

She laughed as she handed him the list. “It’s an even split. Five and five. Most are moderate. There aren’t any conservative Republicans on the list, but at least they’re represented.” 

“They’ll appreciate the consideration.” 

“Or they’ll balk at it.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

Abbey laughed again as she eyed him with her curious, dark-brown gaze. She wanted to ask him something but appeared afraid to do so. He frowned at that. Abbey wasn’t afraid of anything, or at least, that’s how it always felt. She was the one who pulled him out of the mire. She was the one pushing Jed in the right direction multiple times. If anyone could stand up to the President, it was Abbey Bartlet. But, here she was, apparently apprehensive in front of someone as inconsequential as him . It threw him off. 

“Was there anything else?” 

She lifted an eyebrow. “You sure you’re okay, Leo?” 

He mirrored her expression as he sat back, threading his fingers over his stomach to appear relaxed. He figured Abbey saw right through it.

“I’m fine.” 

She ignored his statement. “I know Friday was difficult for you.”

“I opened myself up to it.” 

“Willingly. That’s what I’m worried about.” 

“I still go to meetings,” he said, a bit tersely, instantly regretting the tone.

“I didn’t mean I thought you fell off the wagon.” 

“Good, because I’m not.” 

“I believe you. I just know Vietnam is hard for you to talk about, and yet you opened up to this woman, this new therapist, incredibly easily.” 

He’d spent most of the weekend trying to figure that one out. Why was he so drawn to the woman? She wasn’t anyone special. She was just a therapist, but the moment they’d met he felt exposed. Uncertainty, along with a whole slew of other emotions simmered under the surface, trapped there but begging to be felt again, begging to be released He wouldn’t let them out, though. And then, Abbey came along. Picking at the very heart of him, understanding what she found, and doing it so easily. 

Leo shrugged elaborately. “I don’t know her. It’s easy when I don’t know them.” 

But she saw right through that, just as he expected her to. “You’re dead set on hiring her, Leo. I can see it in your eyes. You know her inside and out. You know everything about her.” 

“Maybe I do. That doesn’t change a thing.” 

She held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, alright. I won’t mention it again. You just seem different is all.” 

“Abbey, people don’t change that much. Don’t worry about me.” 

“Oh, I’ll worry about you. I always worry about you.”

He made a face. She wasn’t lying. She had always been like this. “Yeah, but if you start worrying, he starts worrying, and then he doesn’t stop worrying.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she deadpanned. 

“Abbey--”

“Okay, alright, I won’t say a word.” She stood from her chair, preparing to leave. “But he already knows something is up after the other night.” 

He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. That night was a mistake. He should never have done that. The fallout from seeking help would surely haunt him far longer than he was hoping or wanting. But that was the price of family, or at least, having them as friends and colleagues. Mallory, he could keep in the dark about his deepest thoughts. Jed and Abbey? There was no way, not even close. 

“I’m fine ,” he reiterated. “I’m just ready to get the ball rolling on this.” 

She smiled wryly like maybe she could read his mind and hear his heart pounding in anticipation. “I can tell.” She paused for a moment before crossing to the door. “Jed and I are having lunch in about two hours. Come talk to him then.” 

“I don’t want to--”

But she cut him off with a firm,  “Come have lunch with us.” 

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Thank you.” With a smile, Abbey opened the door and left. 

When she did, it felt like all the air had gone out of the room. He sat in the heavy silence, trying to orient himself. There were a million excuses he could’ve used on her. He had a meeting in an hour that was likely to run over. He had memos to write. There was a situation developing in Japan. He could’ve lied. He could’ve said he was having lunch with Mallory, but then Mal would be pulled into a white lie and Leo still wasn’t convinced she had forgiven him for leaving Jenny. Plus, he knew Abbey would call her and double-check. He would just have to buck up. 

He checked his watch again, cursed himself for the movement, then settled back with the file he was pouring over before she’d come in. He could handle waiting two more hours. 

Maybe. 

***

Twenty minutes later, Leo found himself standing across from the President, watching the other man anxiously as he appraised the list, freshly typed up by an overly inquisitive Margaret who he hadn’t answered. President Bartlet appeared deep in thought, and Leo didn’t dare break that concentration. He wanted to, though, if only to silence the loud, rhythmic thumping of his heart in his ears. 

“It’s an even split,” Jed finally said, taking off his glasses to look at his Chief of Staff, who tried not to appear as startled as he felt.

The older man shifted in front of the desk, presenting a perfect mask of professionalism. “Five and five.” 

“They’re all doctors we’ve had run-ins with before?”

“Some of them came recommended by the Surgeon General.” 

“You called Milly over the weekend for this?”

Leo noted Jed’s surprise but still tried to keep his own reactions in check. 

“It was that or bother you all weekend,” he said dryly, finally sitting in the chair in front of the Resolute desk. 

“You know I wouldn’t have minded,” Jed began. 

“Abbey would’ve,” Leo finished, tone unchanged. 

The President waved his friend off. Leo knew better, though. Abbey would’ve hated every moment of it. The weekends were theirs, what little time they had, and this had been a somewhat quiet one. There were no emergencies, and both were home for the weekend. Zoey and Charlie, no doubt, had plans, so it had just been Jed and Abbey. Alone, in the residence, spending time together as a normal husband and wife, however normal living in the White House could be,  existential threats all around them. 

“True.”

“So, I called Millicent. She provided some good recommendations on both sides of the board.” 

Jed returned to the paper again, falling quiet. Leo wondered if the President’s thoughts lingered on Ria, considering her for the position he so desperately hoped she would get. Not for the first time that day, he wondered if this was becoming an obsession for him, something besides work to focus on. But he pushed that thought away and tried not to think about it. She wasn’t an obsession. She was a human being, and he would have no trouble turning off these worrying emotions. Years of practice had conditioned him to do so., and he could do it again. 

“Hmm. I’ll trust her judgment on that.” 

“Abbey had a hand in narrowing down the suggestions.” 

“Do you still have the full list?” 

“In my office.” 

Jed hummed again, thoughtfully. 

“You really think Dr. Brewer would be a good fit for us?” 

“So far, she seems the best choice.”

“I’d hate to bring these others in here to meet Josh.” 

“It might be what it comes down to.” 

Jed removed his glasses and leveled his gaze at Leo. “Now, let it be known, I don’t want to separate her from Josh. She’s still his therapist, no matter what.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“She seems stubborn. He needs someone stubborn.”

“That he does, Mr. President.”

The President examined the offered list again. Leo sat there in silence, watching him, anticipating his next move. He wasn’t sure what it might be. 

“You really called Milly on a weekend for this?” He wasn’t expecting that . 

“Don’t be so surprised.” 

“I trust her to not let things slip, but telling more people about it is bound to result in the story leaking.” 

“Come on,” Leo started, his brows furrowed as he looked at the President. “You’ve never worried about that. You charge in all fired up and ready to go.” 

“ You were the one who suggested we keep it quiet.” 

“I did nothing of the sort.” 

“Your recollection of history has a revisionist tinge to it, Leo.” 

Now he was enjoying the banter. Getting the President riled up was fun, and it distracted from the elephant in the room. It also took his mind off of Ria. But, even in the quiet moments, even listening to Jed playfully balk at Leo’s words, all he could think about was how she got under his skin, and now seemed to live there. But he was determined to keep that to himself. Nothing was going to change with her. Nothing. And, at that moment, in that office, that’s what he resolved. 

His decision seemed to solidify the choice in his mind. “It does not. I sought her out to get a second opinion, just like how Abbey helped narrow the names. These are professional choices, Mr. President. Nothing more.” 

Jed’s eyes narrowed, but his tone was still playful when he said, “And if I ask Charlie about earlier, he’ll say the same thing?” 

Leo nodded once. “All of this is from an administration standpoint.” 

Jed conceded. “But you did ask Abbey to help, and Milly, to get the ball rolling faster,” he said pointedly. 

“I did because she knows Josh better than Milly,” the Chief of Staff also conceded, but there was more, “The haste is in the service of helping Josh, and helping him quickly. You and I both know that if he keeps going the way he’s going, we’re going to have a problem on our hands. I promised him I would keep his job safe, and I intend to honor that promise by getting in front of this.” 

The President seemed to understand, and the once jovial banter tapered off. Leo missed it, but it was important to him that both Abbey and Jed understood this whole process wasn’t for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wanted to be selfish and say that it was for him, but it wasn’t . It was for Josh, and no matter what teasing he had to endure, he would endure it. 

“You’ll set up a meeting with the majority and minority leaders ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good. Screw their convenience and get them in here as soon as possible.”

Leo stood in anticipation of leaving to do just that. “Yes, Mr. President.” 

“I’ll expect a meeting time by the end of the day.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

The Oval Office fell quiet. Leo waited for a few moments as Jed perused the list of names again. He’d effectively been dismissed, but he wasn’t sure if the President was finished speaking yet. It was normal to be halfway back to his office before the other man added something else to the discussion. This time, however, it didn’t seem like that would happen. So, the older man turned and headed back to the door leading to his office. 

True to form, as soon as Leo reached it, the President piped up, “Oh, and Leo?” 

He turned. “Yes, sir?” 

“Between you and me, no one would begrudge you a bit of haste just to see a pretty woman you like every day.” 

He barely held back a snort. “Whatever.”

“You know I’m right,” The President called as Leo turned his back on his friend and disappeared through the door. 

Chapter Text

Jan 24, 2001

By Wednesday, Ria was ready for a nice, long vacation on a warm, sandy beach somewhere in Florida, Mexico, or maybe even Southern California. Slushy and wet Washington, D.C was the second to last place she wanted to be. Prime position, however, was reserved for The White House basement. As interesting as being in the bowels of the home of the President was, she felt overwhelmed.

The minute Leo led her and Roger down a couple of flights of stairs, a dull pain in her chest and a throbbing at the base of her skull began. No matter how many times she swallowed, her throat and mouth were uncomfortably sticky and dry. She reached into her purse and withdrew a stick of gum. It wasn’t her first choice when feeling claustrophobic, but she needed something to ground her and help her concentrate on Roger’s rapid signing as Leo pressed on.

Josh missed his appointment yesterday. Then, shortly before lunch, he decided Sam’s radio needed to take a short flight into a tall wall. She wasn’t surprised. He tried to hide his emotions on their first meeting, but the signs of tension were there, like the ticks he’d picked up to hide the pain bubbling up inside. Josh was a ticking time bomb, and it was only a matter of time before walking on eggshells didn’t help anymore.

Not that Sam—according to what he said to Leo—was necessarily walking on eggshells. He’d told the Chief of Staff that the radio was at a little less than a dull roar, and Josh hadn’t even been in his office. He’d been in Toby’s. As Roger relayed all this to an increasingly confused Ria, her attention split between the conversation and her own currently mounting problems.

Thankfully, they finally stopped in front of a door leading to a tiny room. She took one look inside and decided there was no way she was going in there.

“How long has he been down here?” Roger interpreted as Ria signed, her expression curious. She didn’t trust her voice not to betray her.

“About two hours. He claims he’s looking for a speech for Toby, but Toby denies asking for it.”

Ria thought for a moment then signed, How was he this morning when he came in? while Roger interpreted for her.

“He seemed okay at the staff meeting. A little distracted, but okay,” Leo replied.

Thank you. I’ll take care of it. Again, her words from Roger’s mouth.

Leo nodded. “I have a meeting. Ria, could you come and see me when you’re done?”

Ria smiled and nodded. The Chief of Staff lingered for a moment as if trying to decide whether he should stay. Instead, he turned and retraced his steps, leaving Roger and her alone in front of the door, Ria staring at it morosely. Roger must’ve heard Josh messing around in the room because he turned to look at Ria with an expression that was a mix of sympathetic and curious. The dueling emotions played vividly across his face.

I’ll be fine, she signed.

Want me to go in there for you?

Ria swallowed thickly. Her throat and mouth were still sticky, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. The tight hand of anxiety gripped her chest but she managed to take a deep breath and nod in response. There was no way in hell she could enter by herself. She didn’t know the room’s layout, first off. Second, it didn’t look very big. If it was full of boxes and other miscellany, she suspected she’d throw up.

Roger took that nod as his cue and knocked on the door. Ria watched him. There must’ve been no response because he knocked again.

The door suddenly swung open to reveal Josh. He looked between Roger and Ria and motioned the two of them into the room. Ria didn’t move. Roger stepped inside, lingering on the threshold so he could sign for her.

“You missed an appointment with us, Josh. Is everything okay?”

The inside of the room was stacked full of boxes which, in turn, were full of file folders. The boxes reached the ceiling and were full to the brim. Some of their lids were shoved down so loosely, a breath of wind could knock them off. Roger noted it all with a few signs to Ria, who almost immediately expressed her relief she hadn’t gone in. Her mouth was a desert.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine.”

Ria snorted softly once she received the message. Why are you down in the basement?

“I’m looking for a speech,” Josh replied absently. “It’s a speech from early in the campaign. I can’t remember the wording, and I wanted to show Sam and Toby.”

Did they ask you for it?

“No, they didn’t.”

Ria’s brows furrowed. Another intrusive thought, perhaps?

What happened in the communications bullpen this morning?

“Nothing happened. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Leo called after Toby told him you threw Sam’s radio against the wall.

“What are you, my mother now?” She sighed. This was getting monotonous, but she wouldn’t say anything. She didn’t want to push it. “Where is Ria?”

“She’s in the hall,” Roger replied.

Josh finally popped his head out. “What are you doing out here?”

Roger answered for her. “She’s claustrophobic.”

Josh hummed and held up a finger before disappearing back into the room. Ria shot Roger a look and signed a few things while they waited. Her interpreter checked she was okay, and she reassured him she was, even if the ever-present crushing fear of being down there and unable to escape was becoming more and more bothersome. She was good at hiding her emotions, maybe too good.

“Found it,” Josh said, finally emerging with a manila folder in his hand.

“Good, I’m glad,” Ria’s words from Roger’s mouth again.

“That never ceases to be disconcerting.”

I could stop talking until we get to your office.

Josh stopped on his way up the stairs and turned. “I have a meeting in ten minutes.” 

Ria’s eyes narrowed. She suppressed the urge to ask if he did have a meeting, or if he was having cyclical thoughts again.

Ten minutes is fine.

He frowned, but he didn’t stop them from following him.

Once back at his office, Ria sat in one of the chairs across from him. He and Roger both sat as well and all the tension in Ria’s shoulders melted away. Her head still pounded, though, and her mouth, no longer dry, tasted bitter. It was a relief to be in a room with a window, able to see the sun. Josh’s office might be messy, but she knew where the door was and how to get to the entrance of the building from here. The basement had been a maze, and she hoped never to return there again.

“Josh? Can you walk me through your morning?”

The moment she spoke, Josh began flipping through a file.

“Nothing happened.”

“That isn’t what I asked, Josh,” Ria said gently. “Can you walk me through your morning?”

“Yeah, sure. I got up. Ate breakfast. Came to work. Ended up in the basement. Leo doesn’t need to worry, I’m fine.”

“Did you eat breakfast at home?” She decided to leave the final statement alone. For the moment, anyway.

“No, I went out.”

“Is it a place you usually go?”

“What are you trying to do? Stalk me? I don’t need a stalker, thanks.”

“Is it a place you usually go?” She asked again, trying not to respond to his witty banter.

“Look, I can just call secret service if you—”

“Is it a place you usually go?” She asked a third time, the tone of her voice sharp and cutting. She was trying to force him to focus. Maybe it wasn’t the right way of doing it, but this was Josh, and one and a half meetings provided her with a somewhat decent feel for him.

He blinked, startled at her tone. He glanced at Roger, then back to her.

“Yeah. It’s a little place, down the road from my apartment.”

“What was on the radio this morning?”

“Hmm?”

He was playing dumb. That was new.

“What was on the radio?”

He scratched the side of his face. “Don Henley. ‘The Last Worthless Evening’, I think.”

“And Sam’s radio?”

“Don Henley. Again.”

It was Roger’s turn to speak. “What song?”

“‘New York Minute’. Sam’s on a bit of a kick with that one. It’s the fifth time I’ve heard it in as many days.”

Ria tried to form a correlation between the two songs but couldn’t. She didn’t have to, though. Don Henley was a musician. Music was a trigger. Stanley said as much in Josh’s patient file. This proved it.

“Did you walk to work, or did you drive?”

“I walked.”

“Did you pass buskers on the street?”

He didn’t have to answer. She knew as soon as he stood and started collecting files and papers from his desk. Trigger, upon trigger, upon trigger, until he finally snapped with Sam where he felt the safest and able to lash outs. She’d done the same thing with Roger before. After Jack.

“I’m late for a meeting.” 

She narrowed her eyes again. She should probably check with Donna if what he said was true, but for now, she wouldn’t question it. She would give him the benefit of the doubt.

Ria stood then, and so did Roger. Their ten minutes were up.

“Do you have any time to see me this week? I’d like to talk to you some more.”

He kept gathering things, not looking at her. Roger had to perform interpretation duties again.

“Talk to Donna. She’ll let you know when I’m free.”

“Thank you, Josh.”

He didn’t respond. He left them standing there, hurrying down the hall toward the Roosevelt room.

That went well, Roger signed as he bent to pick up his briefcase.

She did the same, signing one-handed, a trick she and Roger had perfected. It could’ve been worse.

Before they could get out the door, Donna, in a red, cable-knit sweater, approached them with a small, sympathetic smile. Her blue eyes appeared sad and worried, but she hid it behind a perky and bubbly demeanor. Like Leo and Josh before her, Ria saw right through it.

“Sorry about that,” she said, motioning towards her boss’s vanishing figure.

Ria shook her head, attempting to soothe Donna’s worry, but she realized the other woman wouldn’t be so easily calmed.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to stubborn patients.”

“Yeah, but not as stubborn as he is. You have to get to know Josh. It takes a while.”

Ria laughed softly. “I can see that. But seriously, don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine.”

“Do I need to add another appointment to the book?” Donna asked, a pen readied above a pad of sticky notes.

The therapist held up her hand, shaking her head. “Call me when you have a moment. No rush.” 

Donna fingered the sticky notes for a long moment before she asked, “Is he going to be okay?”

Ria nodded, “Yeah. He’ll be okay. Keep sticking by him and help him out. Even if he says he doesn’t want help.”

“That might be a little hard to do.”

“Just try. He’ll see you care. He needs that right now. And call me if you need to.”

“Both of those things I can do.”

“Then you’ll be fine.”Ria checked her watch. “We’re late for another appointment. If you call and we don’t answer, leave a message on the machine.”

“I will.”

“Thank you, Donna,” Ria said gently.

Donna returned to her desk. Roger began to leave but Ria lingered a moment. She watched as the aide began the long process of rearranging Josh’s schedule. She pulled out a pad, wrote down a list of meeting times and names, then started erasing appointments line by line. By the time Ria followed Roger down the hall, Donna was flipping through her Rolodex to find phone numbers.

Halfway to the entrance, Ria remembered she needed to be somewhere else, “I told Leo I’d meet with him. Can you take my three o’clock?”

Roger paused and thought about it for a moment. “I have an appointment at 3:30, but, yeah, I can manage.”

“Thank you, Roger,” she said, laying a hand on his arm. “I appreciate it.”

“You’ll get back to work okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll call a cab.”

Roger nodded. “I’ll see you soon.” Then he headed out of the building.

A few wrong turns and stops for directions later, Ria stood in the foyer of the Oval Office. It wasn’t where she wanted to be, but it was better than nothing. She knew she was close to Leo’s office, but she’d gotten distracted by being mere feet from the Oval. If meeting the president wasn’t monumental enough, standing in front of those doors was. 

She took a few moments to drink in her surroundings. 

A young black man sat at the desk to her right. The desk across from him was empty, but papers and pictures littered the space. It belonged to someone, someone who was invaluable to the team. It looked lived in, if that was something desks could be and look like. Plus, if the woman—or man, she didn’t judge male secretaries—happened to have a spot there, she was more important than Ria ever hoped to be.

A dark hand suddenly waved in front of her face, startling her. She needed to be better about letting her mind wander in this space. She turned to give her full attention to that same young black man she’d spotted moments earlier. 

“Hi. I’m Charlie Young. Can I help you?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Young. I’m Dr. Ria Brewer.”

They shook hands, Charlie seemingly a little suspicious about her. 

“I tried getting your attention a few times.” 

“Sorry, I’m deaf,” she said, far too used to saying those words. 

“You don’t have a dog?” 

She shook her head. “Not yet. She’s in training right now.”

He nodded, and stood there a moment before asking, “Do you have an appointment?”

“Probably not. Mr. McGarry asked to see me when I finished talking with Josh. I, uh, got turned around going to his office.”

“Are you… helping Mr. McGarry with something?” The question came out slowly. It was difficult to read his lips but, with a faint flicker of understanding, Charlie took a small step back. “You’re from ATVA.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Brewer. I didn’t know.”

“It’s Ria, please, and it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“I work for the President. It’s my job to worry about it.”

“You’re President Bartlet’s body man.” And, if the newspapers were to be believed, the whole reason why Rosslyn happened in the first place. White supremacists made her skin crawl. “How are you doing?”

Charlie smiled. “I have my own therapist, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am.” She wrinkled her nose as she shook her head. “It makes me sound like my mother.” She paused for a moment before finally addressing his response. “That wasn’t why I asked, Mr. Young.”

“Oh.” He stood there, awkwardly, then shrugged. “I guess I’m doing pretty good. Thank you for asking. And please, call me Charlie.”

“You’re welcome, Charlie. I’m sure I’m going to be seeing you a lot in the coming weeks.”

“I look forward to it,” he said with a genuine smile. “Mr. McGarry and the President are in a meeting. They should be finishing up in a moment. You can wait here if you’d like.”

No sooner had Charlie spoken those words, than the door to the Oval swung open to reveal not only President Bartlet and Leo, but also two congressmen, and the Secretaries of State and Labor. If she could’ve hidden at that moment, she would’ve. Her palms were sweaty again, and she tried to surreptitiously wipe them, one after the other, on her trousers.

The President and the other men were all still engaged in conversation, and Charlie left her side to retrieve an outstretched file from the President before returning to his desk. Ria took the opportunity to watch the men wheel and deal politics. There was something powerful about them. She didn’t know what they were saying—she was too polite to lip-read the conversation—but she analyzed their body language.

President Bartlet was in charge, his presence overshadowing the lesser men flanking him. His hands were in his pockets, back ramrod straight. He was clearly the smartest person in the room. Not only was he the smartest person in the room, but he was also comfortable with that knowledge. His back might have been straight—trying to appear taller, she figured—but he was relaxed. His shoulders and arms were loose. Open. Inviting. He was trying to be friendly with these men.

The two congressmen, however, were not. Both were tense as they kept talking, their smiles forced, and the lines at the corners of their mouths tight with disapproval. One man had his arm outstretched, mid-motion, but his other hand gripped his briefcase so tightly that his knuckles were white. The second congressman held his briefcase in front of him with both hands. Closed off. Defensive. His eyes slightly narrowed.

Leo was a different animal. She watched him the closest as he stood to the President’s left, cool, confident, and suave; almost enough to make her swoon. Definitely enough that she felt butterflies in the pit of her stomach. It was refreshing, the way she couldn’t read him as easily as the others. Completely in control of himself, every movement precise and well thought out, everything else a blank canvas. It was a pleasant change from their meeting the previous week.

His focus turned to her, however, when the Secretary of State, Lewis Berryhill, asked, “Who is this beautiful young woman, sir? She doesn’t seem to have anything to do.”

The two congressmen, who were unhappy with the meeting’s events, made a quick exit. That left Berryhill, the President, Leo, and the Secretary of Labor, Carl Reid, behind.

“Oh, she’s here to help us out with a few things. Nothing to worry about.”

Berryhill extended a hand. She almost missed it but quickly recovered. 

“Lewis Berryhill. Pleasure to meet you.”

Ria tried to keep her face devoid of any emotion. This Berryhill character had a slimy air about him. It put her off, but she took his hand and shook because she was in front of the President, after all.

“Dr. Ria Brewer.”

“Doctor?” Reid asked Jed. “You’re hiring smarter ones every month, Mr. President.”

“If you’re not careful, she’ll come after your job,” Berryhill quipped back.

“I think Republicans are already well poised to do that. If the House and the Senate are any kinds of example.” She hadn’t voted for any of these people, and maybe her response was indicative of that.  

Leo ducked away from the trio to approach Charlie’s desk. She caught a glimpse of his amused smile out of the corner of her eye.

“I like when they’re smarter than I am. It keeps me on my toes. Thank you for coming in to meet with us, gentlemen, but I am later for another meeting.”

That ended the conversation with Berryhill and Reid, and they took their leave. Now only Ria, Charlie, the President, and Leo remained in the small room.

“Charlie, where is Mrs. Landingham?”

“She went to get lunch, sir.”

The President hummed in response, seemingly distracted. “Dr. Brewer?”

For once she was paying attention and promptly answered. “Yes, Mr. President?”

He turned slightly with his hands in his pockets, making a sort of casual motion for her to follow him, keeping his face in view. “Step into my office for a moment.”

Leo pivoted to face the President. The movement caught her eye and she turned to look at him. For the first time since he came out of the Oval Office, Ria read his emotions. It was easy, surprise was written all over him. But Jed didn’t notice. He’d already entered the Oval and was halfway back to his desk by the time Ria recovered her bearings and followed him.

Charlie shut the door behind her.

Chapter Text

The Oval Office looked exactly like it did in the movies, surprising Ria as she stepped over the threshold into the room. Windows, and a door to the outside walkway, bathed the space in light from her left. Pictures hung above the mantle to her right. She absently wondered if the fireplace actually could be lit or if it was solely for decoration. Maybe she would ask Josh or Leo the next time they talked.

Further along the wall to her right, built into it and half full, resided some bookshelves and another door, one that melded so well into the wall it could almost be missed. Looking down, she realized she stood on the presidential seal, the emblem taking up the entire center of the blue carpeting, further reminding her of where she was. At the back of her mind, in the part that wasn’t overrun by awe and terror, a small voice prodded Ria to examine the items clutched in the eagle’s talons. She knew what the thirteen arrows represented, but she wasn’t sure about the other item. But she was too nervous, and there was no way she would ask at the moment.  

Of course, it wasn’t like she hadn’t met the President before. That wasn’t why she was nervous. No, the reason was that she had never been in the presence of the President by herself, nor in the Oval, before. This place carried a weight with it, a weight she might never fully understand. 

Once again, she felt like Annette Bening. Only this time, it wasn’t a good feeling. She couldn’t explain why her anxiety settled like a stone in the pit of her stomach. Well, she could, but if she tried, it would come out as a jumble of words that no one would understand. So, she wouldn’t unless someone asked. Which, hopefully, no one would. Though, she figured Roger would ask about the meeting when she got back, even if he wasn’t expecting her to respond with “I talked to the President today.”

Just being in Bartlett's presence, alone, bothered her. This conversation could be about anything. It could be about Josh, or even her. Worse, the President could dredge up Jack. It was in his right. The very idea of talking about Jack with him made the hair at the back of her neck stand on end. She didn’t want to, not at all.

“Mr. President?”

She had finally reached the chairs in front of his desk and could go no further. The handle of the briefcase she held cut into her palms, she was gripping it so tightly. Jed looked over at her as he leaned back against the desk. He rested his hands to his sides, fingers curling around the edge of the dark wood.

“Yes, Dr. Brewer?”

“What’s going on? Am I in trouble?”

“No, you’re not in trouble. Why do you think you are?”

“Because I’m in here. Alone. It’s a little unnerving. I feel like calling Charlie in for backup or something,” she joked.

He chuckled. “There’s no need to call in Charlie. I don’t bite. Not when I don’t need to.”

“That’s a relief,” she said, even though she wasn’t.

“I read your file,” he began, holding up a hand in surrender as he continued, “I know, I told you I wouldn’t, but I got curious.”

She swallowed thickly. “Yes, sir. And?”

“You’ve been through a lot.”

Please, don’t, she thought.

“Yes. I like to think it makes me better at my job. I can empathize with my patients.”

Jed finally moved from his place in front of the desk. As he rounded it, she took a step forward, emboldened by the new space between them. He picked a folder up off the wood, and she was sure it was her file, even if she couldn’t read the tab.

Sitting down in his chair, he put on his glasses and opened the folder.

Before he could say anything, she gently cleared her throat. “Mr. President?”

He lowered the file folder so she could see his lips. “Yes?”

“If you could tell me what this is about, that would be much appreciated.” She couldn’t think of anything she’d done wrong. He’d told her she wasn’t in trouble. But… “Was I rude to Secretaries Berryhill and Reid? I get ahead of myself sometimes, and say things I shouldn’t. I stick my foot in it more times than I can count, and I don’t ever know when—”

The President shut the folder, waving it to get her attention.

“—to stop,” she finished. She cleared her throat again. “Sorry.”

“You know, it’s not very often I get someone in here who talks more than I do. When I do, it’s a nice change of pace, but I’m going to stop you now before you go any further.”

“Yes, sir.”  

“You’re okay to treat Josh?” He asked, leaning back.

“I don’t understand why you’re asking, sir.” But she did know exactly why.

“This isn’t going to bother you? You’re sure? Because,” the folder shut, and he held it up in the air, shaking it a bit for emphasis, “there’s a lot in here that would make me think it would.”

It was then she understood.

“You understand trauma stimuli.” It was a statement, not a question. It surprised her, though she knew she shouldn’t be. She knew the President was a well-read man.

“Well, Abbey, my wife, is a doctor—”

“Yes, sir,” she quickly interjected.

“—and I’ve known some people who’ve gone through various traumas and treatments. It’s not a new thing, it’s just taken a lot longer to be accepted. Am I right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So, treating Josh won’t bother you?”

She shook her head. “No, sir.”

At the moment, it didn’t. That wasn’t to say it wouldn’t change. She didn’t think it would, though. She’d treated plenty of other PTSD patients before Josh. None of them bothered her.

“Good. Josh needs someone to keep on him. He needs someone to be as stubborn as he is. I was telling Leo earlier this week that you seem to be the perfect candidate.”

That compliment eased the tension in her shoulders. She loosened the grip on her briefcase, and tried to relax a little bit. She could check “getting a compliment from the President” off her non-existent list of things to experience before she died.

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome.” The President paused before he continued speaking. “Now, was it my imagination, or was my Chief of Staff trying to hide his amusement from me just then?”

The question threw her for a bit of a loop. So, the President had seen Leo’s reaction. That was interesting. She didn’t quite know how to respond to that. On the one hand, she could show her cards right out of the gate. On the other, she could play coy, but doing so wasn’t something she was very good at.

She ducked her head, in part to hide a blush and in part to gather her thoughts, and stared at a loose thread on her briefcase handle. Before she could stop herself, she began picking at it, doing so just long enough to regain some of her composure. Though, probably not enough.

When she looked back up, words escaped almost without her consent, “Yes, I think he was.”

Her face flushed hot, and she was sure she was blushing. If she was, President Bartlet didn’t say anything about it. All he did was laugh. It was a hearty laugh, and helped her relax even more. Sometimes, it was hard to see the President as a normal man, but this proved that he was. It humanized him for her, and it made her feel more comfortable. If he was always like this when they spoke, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“I’ve known Leo for many years, Dr. Brewer. I think that was a first.”

She smiled so widely her cheeks hurt. She was definitely blushing.

“Surely not.”

“No, really. Leo is a stoic man. He rarely shows anything he doesn’t want someone to see. He wanted you to see he was impressed with you.”

“Impressed with me? Because I showed some backbone in front of a couple of high-powered Democrats in suits that cost more than my apartment?”

“Yes. You showed gumption in front of me and the Secretaries of State and Labor. Most people wouldn’t dare speak their mind like you did.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

The conversation lulled. Her mind wandered. Did the President notice something between her and Leo she somehow missed? Or did he like reading into things? His intelligence became more obvious to her the longer they lingered. Granted, she never questioned that part of him, but she began to understand it a bit more. Jed Bartlet was a politician who could read the room. He could read emotions, and understood the human condition better than most. That was his strength, though some would call it a flaw, but she found herself appreciating it at that moment. It wasn’t every day she met someone quite like him. 

Ria tried not to think too hard about the possibility there was something between her and Leo. She got butterflies in her stomach that Saturday after he left, but in hindsight, it felt like a silly reaction. He didn’t have a hidden motive. Friendliness didn’t require one. Kindness didn’t either, and that’s all the situation was. She knew better. Leo apologized by being nice in a bookstore, and indulging her on her photographic whims. End of story.

A wave of President Bartlet’s hand broke her thoughts, and she cursed herself silently. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. President. Did you say something?”

He smirked and nodded. “ I asked if you really didn’t vote for me.” She shook her head in response. He continued, “Don’t tell me you voted for Hoynes.”

She immediately wrinkled her nose. “No. God, no. I voted Republican.”

President Bartlet laughed at her reaction. “Do you consider yourself a Republican, Dr. Brewer?”

She felt comfortable enough to say, “Please call me Ria. And, actually, no, I don’t. I’m more non-partisan. I see the merits of both parties.”

“You know that really doesn’t work, right? Being non-partisan.”

“Then, I suppose, you could call me a conservative Democrat.”

“Not a moderate, then?”

She shook her head and spoke through a laugh. “No, sir.”

“A few weeks here and we’ll have you changing your tune, I’m sure.”

“You can certainly try.”

“Yes, well, we like trying things in this White House. Just a few months ago, I hired a Republican as assistant White House counsel. My staff thought I was crazy, but she is smart and adept at countering Sam Seaborn, our deputy communications director.”

Ria’s face brightened. “I saw that Capital Beat! She was brilliant. Her name is Ainsley, isn’t it?”

“Ainsley Hayes. You got it right. She’s a firecracker and I’m glad I told Leo to hire her.”

“Well, it’s always a good idea to try new things. I’m glad it worked out for you.”

“Indeed, it did,” he grinned at her. 

Ria rocked on her feet for a moment as she tried to figure out what she should say next. A lull had settled between them, and she felt awkward as she stood there waiting for words to come to her. Or, even, waiting for him to say something to her. She knew she couldn’t leave until she was dismissed, and she still needed to talk to Leo before she left.

After a couple of minutes, she gathered her nerves and asked, “Was that all, Mr. President?”

In the lull, Jed had picked up another file and was reading over it. When she spoke, he looked back up so she could read his lips.

“No, actually, I wanted to get your thoughts on something. 

She blinked at him. The President thought her worthy enough to ask her a question? Add that to her non-existent list of things to experience before she died. So far she’d seen the Oval Office, been complimented by him, and now he was asking for her opinion. She tried to think of what exactly made her worthy, but couldn’t think of anything. 

“Yes, sir, of course.” 

Inside, she screamed while waiting for the penny to drop. 

“Leo and I are thinking about adding a mental health consultant to the staff. Do you think that would be a good idea?” 

She didn’t need to consider her answer for very long. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. I just don’t understand why you’re asking me about it.” 

“You’re a therapist. Your background is in trauma. You’re the perfect person to ask.” 

“You have a Surgeon General,” Ria deadpanned. “She can answer that question as well.” 

“You’re the one working with Josh.” 

“You’re bringing one on because of him.” It wasn’t a question. But then it dawned on her. “Sir, can I ask you something in return?” He wordlessly motioned for her to continue. “Am I being considered for this position?”

“We have a list of names,” he said, expertly evading the question.

It didn’t matter, though. That was all the clue she needed. She was on that list.

Her internal screaming intensified. Her heart thumped erratically in her chest. Oh, God.

“Anyone I know?” Ria asked wryly, trying to keep her voice steady. 

If the President noticed, he didn’t point it out. 

“Maybe,” he replied, equally as coy as he stood and began to organize his desk.

When Jed suddenly looked up, Ria noticed his attention was focused elsewhere, and she turned around to find Charlie behind her. She quickly turned back when she noticed he wasn’t taking his leave. The President must’ve been late for a meeting. Lifting her wrist to check her watch, she tried to hide the slight shake of her hand. It was almost three o'clock. Then she remembered he told Berryhill and Reid he was late for a meeting. He’d said those words almost twenty minutes earlier.

“I haven’t kept you from anything, have I, sir?”

He waved her off. “No, not at all. Though, I am going to have to cut this short.” Of course, he had to, she thought. “I have an energy meeting in five minutes, and you can imagine they don’t like being kept waiting.”

Ria ducked her head for a moment, trying to hide a laugh. 

She quickly recovered, looking back up as she spoke. “Well, you are the President, sir. They’d have to get over it.”

Jed laughed. “Yes, while that is true, I do like to be early when I can be.”

“Punctuality is a lost art form, Mr. President.”

“You got that right,” he said as he swung his jacket over his head and slid into it.

She grinned. “It was a pleasure talking to you, sir.” And, despite the revelation, it truly was a pleasure.

“Yes, we’ll have to do it again sometime. Would you mind that?”

For the fourth time that afternoon, she was thrown for a loop. As if she could say no to him. She probably could say no, if she really wanted to, but she actually did want to talk to him again. She wanted to pick his brain and get to know him more. Even though the Republicans could misconstrue his intent and use it against him if they heard about it. She didn’t want to think about that.

Despite those thoughts, she replied, “I would be honored, sir.”

“Excellent.” He came out from behind his desk to extend a hand to her. “If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Ria took the hand and shook it firmly. “Yes, sir.”

“And I mean it, too.” He let go. “I like you, Ria, and I like to take care of people I like.”

“Yes, sir.”

That was the end of their conversation. They said their goodbyes, and then Charlie kindly escorted Ria out of the Oval. She stood beside Mrs. Landingham’s desk and frowned. The woman still wasn't back from lunch. Ria would've liked to meet her, but it wasn't meant to be. Besides, the brief pause gave the blonde a moment to decompress before she headed out to talk to Leo.

Chapter Text

In his office, Leo was trying to figure out what happened in the foyer of the Oval after the meeting with Reid and Berryhill. He had other work to do, but his mind kept wandering to Ria. Her tenacity and the way she overcame her nerves when confronted with the four of them, all at once, impressed him. She was magnificent, speaking her mind in a way that was tactful and full of grace. It was something Leo rarely saw in politics. That, and she was honest. When was the last time he saw anyone be honest in the political realm outside his own staff and the President? He couldn’t remember. Some congressmen and women tried to be, but the act was almost frowned upon outside the Bartlet administration.

It made Ria even more refreshing. Though, it did surprise him to learn she hadn’t voted for them. Was she a conservative? She didn’t seem like it. Granted, he barely knew her, but if her words were anything to go by, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He frowned as he sat at his desk, and tried to read the file in front of him. The excitement of the moment, and his happy thoughts from earlier, began to wane. 

The Democrats would already not be happy if the President were to hire her. If she was a Republican or a conservative, and they found out, they would lose their minds. They would cry that the President was straying from party lines. Not only that, but they would also demand to know why no one in the party was good enough for the job. 

The Republicans would love it if Ria were to work at the White House, conservative or not. They could harass and subpoena her to divulge medical records, private conversations, the works. Anything they got from her would provide them the cause they needed to go after the President, and make the staff’s duties even more difficult to perform than they already were. His people couldn’t afford that. List of possible candidates or not, he could already foresee the problems. The President’s approval ratings couldn’t take a hit from either side. 

Beyond the problem of party lines and sentiment were the staff. If the President did accept her as a consultant, they would be ruffled. The general upset regarding Ainsley’s appointment had everything to do with her position and her viewpoints. If Ria was remotely similar, she would no doubt be met with resistance. Beyond that, though, he imagined Josh--for obvious reasons--and Toby would have problems with her regardless. Toby’s frustration would stem purely from Ria being a new face, and he didn’t like new faces. 

Leo’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his office door.

“Yeah?”

Margaret stuck her head around the frame. “Dr. Brewer is here to see you.”

“Send her in.”

He slid his glasses off and laid them on top of a pile of memos and reports as Ria stepped inside, smiling. She looked more at ease than when he saw her earlier. He returned the smile and stood.

“Please, have a seat,” he said as he motioned to the sofa on his right.

But she opted to sit in a nearby chair instead.

“How was Josh when you finally got to talk to him?” He unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down behind his desk.

Leo felt nervous in her presence but tried not to show it. He hid the slight shake of his hands under his desk. His mouth felt dry and it was difficult to catch his breath. He imagined she could see right through him, but maybe he was imagining things. So much for the decision to turn off those emotions. He swallowed thickly as she began speaking.

“He had a bad morning, so he’s fighting me. I understand why, but the longer he does, the more he’s hurting himself.”

“I understand you can’t go into detail but is there anything I or the rest of the staff can do?”

She nodded and finally set her briefcase on the floor beside her chair.

“I’ve told Donna this but being there for him is important. Letting him know that you care, even if you have to hit him over the head with it. He must realize he’s not alone right now.”

Leo understood. He understood more than she realized. Or, maybe, she knew exactly how much he understood. While their conversation about Vietnam ended abruptly, he knew that what he told her painted a certain picture. It made him feel vulnerable, and he hated that. He and Josh were cut from the same cloth, in more ways than one. He knew that, and he had a feeling she would figure that out if they continued to speak with each other. He planned for it, even if it hurt him to talk about himself, and even if he felt absolutely out of control around her.

“We all have busy schedules, but I’ll try to make sure the staff understands.”

“Thank you, Leo. It will help. Also, you might try to remind them that music needs to stop temporarily.”

He shook his head, his expression one of quiet exasperation. “Sam should know better.”

“Sam’s trying to pretend that nothing’s wrong. I see it in trauma patients all the time. It’s their way of coping.”

“You think Sam also has PTSD?” Leo asked, even though he already suspected the answer.

“He’s not my patient, but you’ve all suffered trauma. Even you since Josh and the President were shot. It triggered your memories from Vietnam and what you suffered there.”

“I don’t—”

But she continued to speak. “The rest of the staff were there too, Leo. You forget, but just because they weren’t hit doesn’t mean they weren’t shot at too. They watched Josh struggle to survive in the hospital, in the knowledge that it could have been any of them there instead. Then, they were expected to step back into their duties and get on with the business of governing. No offense, Leo, but your tragedy response here isn’t what it should be.”

“Yeah,” he began, suddenly consciously sheepish. “We’re aware of that. The President and I are working on hiring a mental health consultant.”

Leo was about to say more, but she cut in. “Yes, he told me.”

He was surprised, and he paused. “He did?” She nodded. “And did he tell you about your inclusion on the shortlist?” 

She nodded again, but made a face and said, “Well, not in as many words.”

He blew out a breath but didn’t know how to continue, so he kept on with his original line of thought. “The world doesn’t stop because we’ve been shot at, but there must be a better way to handle the transition back to ‘normality’. We aren’t the first administration to deal with gun violence, and we won’t be the last.”

“And it’s a good idea to set something in motion for future administrations,” she concurred. “This is a bipartisan issue, even if the Republicans side with the NRA.”

Those words made him sit back and regard her curiously. The intensity of his gaze made her shift a little across from him.

“Do you side with the NRA?” 

Her eyes narrowed. “I believe we have the right to defend ourselves, but not with military-grade weapons.” 

“And the mandatory psych eval needed to purchase weapons?” 

Ria regarded him closely, and he suddenly felt small under her gaze. Democrats had been talking about that for years. It might be a sensitive subject, but curiosity got the better of him. 

“What do you think?” She asked rhetorically, her tone of voice dry, lacking any mirth. 

Leo knew better than to answer that question. Instead, he decided to ask a different one. “You minored in political science at Gallaudet?” He already knew the answer. He wanted her to say it.

“Yes, with a major in psychology and sociology. They overlapped, so I took both.”

“What drew you to political science?”

“Jack,” she answered after a long pause. “He went to Georgetown. We met through some friends. His uncle was deaf. So was his older brother.”

“He was a hearing man, though.”

She nodded. “He was.”

“You must miss him.”

She plastered on a smile. He felt like he could see right through it, but he didn’t say anything. “Every day. But I continue to help my patients and the people I care about. It gets better, but the pain never goes away.”

“In a small way,” Leo began as he watched her. “I understand. My wife left me last year. It blindsided me. She was there, and then suddenly, she wasn’t.”

Leo couldn’t believe he’d said those words. He couldn’t believe he offered that information up, unprompted and unexpectedly. His heart pounded in his chest; like it was trying to break its way out. There he was, opening up many new avenues to explore between them. He hoped she felt the same way about him that he felt about her. If she didn’t, then doing this was a moot point. That anxiety percolated dangerously in his chest.

He was the second most powerful man in the world. What could he give her? 

“Why do you still wear your wedding ring?” She asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

He lifted his left hand, looking at it with a frown,  considering his next words.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Habit, I suppose.” He lowered his hand. “Plus, I consider myself married to the job. I serve at the pleasure of the president. It’s my duty for however long he’s in office.”

She looked impressed, unable to help the expression that so clearly settled on her face. “You’re a good man, Leo.”

For a moment, they gazed at each other, both lost in their own thoughts about the other. The moment was broken as Ria looked away to check her watch.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me. I have an appointment at four that I need to keep.”

She stood from the chair, and Leo followed suit, buttoning up his jacket. It was a sign of respect he afforded to everyone, even the ones he didn’t like. 

“It was a pleasure talking to you. I’m sorry about Josh. I’ll make sure the staff knows about the changes, and that they take them to heart.”

“Thank you, Leo, and don’t apologize for Josh. It’s okay. It doesn’t bother me.”

She bent to pick up her briefcase and, as she straightened, she held out her hand. He took it and shook, holding onto it a beat longer than he should’ve. Her hand was so soft, warm, and gentle. He liked how it felt in his. So far, he liked every single thing about Dr. Ria Brewer. Save for how she made him feel that first night but that was her job, and he could gloss it over. 

Before he let go of her hand, he found himself asking, “Can you come back this evening at about eight?”

“I take it I’ll be off the record again?”

“I hope our meetings are always off the record. I’m not your patient.”

“Josh is.”

That answer confirmed what he’d been thinking all along. She wasn't bound by doctor-patient privilege with him. That scared him. Of course, none of that meant she would say anything but, with his position, she couldn’t take the moral high ground. He knew that much. It was dangerous to confide in her, but he was drawn to her so intensely he didn’t feel like he had a choice. 

“Yes, he is. I think you’re doing great things with him.”

“I just started. Get back to me in a month or so, and we’ll see how it goes.”

“We will do that, but that depends on if you’ll last that long. Josh can be unpleasant if he doesn’t get what he wants.”

“He doesn’t have a choice,” she asserted. “Not with me.” But then she softened. “But if it’s his choice to let me go, I’ll have to respect that. I just hope he doesn’t do it before I can help him.”

“I’ll talk him out of it if that’s the case. Your importance to him and his health cannot be overstated. Don’t let him minimize you.”

She couldn’t hide the bright, warm smile that spread across her lips. He saw it and butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He tried to tamp them down, but couldn’t. Unbuttoning his jacket, he sat to go through the few files he had been trying to work on before she showed up. He hadn’t retained anything from his quick scan of them earlier.

“I won’t,” she said, cutting through his thoughts.

He looked up at her, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. “Good.” He paused. “Have a good afternoon, Ria. I’ll see you at eight.”

She nodded and turned to leave his office. He watched as she left. It had only been a couple of weeks, but he saw a lot of himself in her. Workaholic tendencies. A go-getter attitude. He hoped that his and Jed’s plan would progress quickly and that there wouldn’t be any blowback. They could be so lucky.

Chapter Text

After Ria left, Leo's day seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. The hours flew as he found himself bouncing from meeting to meeting, never quite having the chance to catch his breath. First, was a meeting on the upcoming State of the Union with senior staff, which was always a contentious discussion that involved a slew of opinions. This fed into a sidebar with Toby and Sam regarding the addition of the Blue Ribbon commission to the speech. Both voiced the opinion that it needed to be left out until the President could secure the appropriate support. That meant Leo would have one more item to add to the list he needed to speak with Jed about.

The meeting with Toby and Sam was followed by the Global Defense Council, always a group he enjoyed spending time with. They demanded he sit in on the President’s meeting with the congressional oversight committee about the environment and Leo couldn’t find a way out of it.  If the President was going to miss a speaking event in the next few weeks, this was the price they paid. Unfortunately, it left him tired of hearing about the environment, a sure sign something was wrong, but he couldn't help it.

Later, when he encountered Donna in the halls around mid-afternoon, he was relieved to hear Josh was having a meeting with the National Endowment of the Arts. He was less happy about learning she had rescheduled Josh's appointment with Ria, but what was done was done. To get his own feel for the situation, he sat in on Josh's meeting. He hoped this would help him reassure Sam and Toby about Josh's state of mind. They both expressed their concerns to him earlier in the meetings and neither seemed to believe his attempts to reassure them. So, he rearranged his late afternoon schedule to be there.

He was no psychologist, that was Ria’s job. But as he watched Josh throughout the meeting, he noticed that the man's normal ticks seemed worse. He was tense, terse, and snappy with the others in the meeting. He didn't appear to be listening, which ratcheted up the tension, and led Leo to worry that he would need to break in to stop things from blowing up. Thankfully, it wasn’t needed, and the meeting ended with no big fanfare or argument. But he could still see that Josh was on edge. As the others left the meeting, he held Josh back and motioned for him to sit.

Josh seemed to be less tense with everyone out of the room, but Leo still watched him fiddle under the table.

“Josh—”

But Josh interrupted him, leaning on the table, a finger tapping rapidly on the smooth wood. “I don’t think they were listening to me.”

Those words took Leo back to the incident in the Oval. He needed to be smart about this conversation.

“They were, but were you listening to them?”

Josh got defensive. “Of course, I was listening to them.”

“I don’t think you were.”

“Leo, they want a bump in funding so they can, what, support a guy with a ukulele who sings Irish chants backward and calls it art?”

“I don’t know. If someone can sing Irish chants backward, I think they deserve funding.”

Josh’s eyes narrowed at the joke. “I didn’t think you were supposed to be in this meeting.”

“I decided to sit in and see what all the fuss was about.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be in a meeting with the President?”

“I thought being here was more important.”

Josh rubbed the corner of his eye, another tick that Leo had picked up on over the many years they had worked together.

“Were you checking in on me?”

“Yeah, because that’s what friends do.”

Leo watched as Josh's body deflated, the annoyance visibly flowing out of him. “I’m fine, Leo.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you.” Leo paused for a moment and appraised Josh. The tapping on the top of the table had ceased and the tension in his deputy’s body had also left. “Go home, Josh. There’s nothing left for you to do today.”

Josh carded his fingers through his hair. “I have a meeting with you, Toby, and the President in about an hour.”

“We’ll move it to tomorrow. It’ll be fine. Go get some rest.”

Josh nodded but he didn’t stand yet. Leo watched him closely. He hated seeing Josh like this. For all the man's faults, without Josh, they wouldn’t be where they were today. Toby was the linchpin that kept them together, but there was a good reason why Leo suggested that Josh come aboard. He was easily the brightest young political mind in the Democratic party and could navigate the pitfalls of Washington politics. He hated this as much as Josh did, but he wouldn’t let it beat him. He wouldn’t let it beat either of them, but especially not Josh.

“Don’t tell Dr. Brewer you sent me home early.” 

“I won’t. This is something you need to tell her, something you need to be honest about. Donna told me she rescheduled your appointment.”

“Yeah. I don’t have a choice. She’s stubborn.” A sad smile creased Josh's lips.

Whether he was talking about Donna or Ria, Leo didn’t know.

“It’s for your own good,” he said through a reassuring smile. “Go home. Rest. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the staff meeting.”

Josh took a deep breath, stood, then left the Roosevelt room. Hopefully, he would follow Leo’s advice and gather his things before going home for the day. 

Alone in the Roosevelt room, Leo took the opportunity to gather his thoughts. They were chaotic, jumping from the issues with Josh to his burgeoning feelings for Ria that he couldn’t seem to let go of. 

Glancing at his watch, he decided that the meeting between him, Toby, and the President should actually go ahead. Now, though, it would be about hiring Ria on as a consultant. He would just schedule a new meeting for tomorrow, as he had told Josh, to discuss the policy changes ahead of the State of the Union.

Leo winced as he thought about the meeting. He knew that if he didn't want Toby going off in front of the President, he would need to talk to him about Ria now. Without his support, getting her hired would be far more difficult.

But he wanted to take a chance on her. No, he needed to.

So, leaving the Roosevelt room, he wove his way to the communication’s office. Sam was there, working behind closed doors, which struck Leo as odd. Sam never closed his office door. Maybe he was listening to music on a tape deck he had borrowed from a staffer. With his radio in pieces, he would have had to find alternative methods of listening. 

Toby was on the phone as Leo walked into his office and sat down on the sofa across from the desk. After a minute, Toby hung up, his eyes having never left Leo since he walked in. He worried at his ever-present Spaulding ball between his hands.

“What can I do for you, Leo?”

“I sent Josh home, but I wanted to let you know we’re still having the meeting with the President.”

“If Josh isn’t there—”

“We’ll get another meeting scheduled for tomorrow when you both have time.”

An underlying urgency bled into Leo’s words.

“What’s this about, Leo?” 

“You’ll find out in the meeting.”

He stood. Leo saw curiosity written all over Toby’s face. “This isn’t about Josh, is it?”

“In a way it is. You’ll find out more in the meeting.”

The Chief of Staff could sense something was up but didn’t push it. Toby simply waved Leo off and picked up the phone to make another call before heading over.

On his return to his office, Leo found President Bartlet sitting in one of the chairs at the round table. His feet were propped up, hands laced together on his stomach. He looked particularly smug. When did he not look smug? Leo shut the door between his office and Margaret’s first and then the one that went into the hall.

“Aren’t you supposed to be talking to agriculture or something?”

“The president of Chile about the import of grapes and raisins, if you can believe it. We finished early and I had time to spare.”

“So, you decided to camp out in my office?” He asked wryly. “You know you have one of your own. It’s just right over there.”  

“Your’s is cozier,” the President teased.

“I doubt that.”

Leo sat behind his desk and quickly flipped through the small pile of pink message slips. He could feel Jed’s eyes on him, scrutinizing him, trying to find a way into his hardened exterior, like he always tried to do. This was important. This was about Josh and Leo knew that the President wanted more information, he was just trying to find a way to ask that wasn’t too blunt. 

Jed waited a beat and then said, “Donna told me you sent Josh home.”

“Yeah, I thought he needed to sleep off the day.”

“You think he’ll do it?”

“Hell no. He’ll be calling Donna every hour for messages and updates.”

President Bartlet laughed. “That’s Josh,” he began then continued. “I assume Dr. Brewer was informed?”

Leo finally looked up from his desk to peer at the President. “No, Donna rescheduled Josh’s appointment. He’ll tell her then.”

“You’re putting an enormous amount of faith on Josh’s ability to be honest about himself.”

“You don’t think he can do it?”

“I know he can’t do it,” he said as he finally straightened and sat upright in the chair. Leo watched him closely. “He looks up to you too much, takes direction from you. And he sees that you can’t do it either.”

If that wasn’t the truth, he wasn’t sure what was. He didn’t admit it outright, even though he knew the President was right.

“I can if I have to.”

The President hummed flatly in response. Leo hated when he did that.

“So, if Josh was sent home, I take it the meeting is canceled.”

“No, we’re just going to talk about something else.”

“This something else wouldn’t happen to be about Dr. Brewer, would it?”

Leo’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Yes, it does. Why are you wondering?”

The President raised his hands in a sign of surrender. “Because I know when something has you thinking. I’ve known you long enough.”

He had a point. “I’ll talk more about it when Toby shows up.”

Just as he said those words, Margaret popped her head in and let Leo know that Toby was waiting. Leo nodded and she sent Toby in, shutting the door behind him. He remained standing while both Leo and the President remained where they were. 

“What’s this about? You pulled Josh and kept the meeting. Is something going on with him that the senior staff needs to know about?”

“No. He’s fine.” Josh’s struggles weren’t for Leo to air out in public, certainly not to senior staff.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Ria has it handled.”

Toby stared at Leo. Leo could see the disapproval written all over his demeanor.  “You mean Dr. Brewer. She’s the one they sent from ATVA. She’s deaf.” None of those were questions.

“Yes, I mean Dr. Brewer.”

“You called her Ria just then.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And you don’t find that odd.”

“Why would I, Toby?”

Toby’s eyes narrowed. If Leo knew anything about the man--and he thought he did--he knew that the communications director was trying to figure out why he used Ria’s first name. Like that was a big conspiracy. She was a person. People had names, but he knew better and so did Toby. Something was up. Leo usually wasn’t one to use first names in official business unless the occasion called for it. 

This wasn’t such an occasion.

“This isn’t about Josh.”

“Toby,” the President finally spoke up. “Why don’t you sit down.”

But Toby refused. “This is about that therapist.”

Leo nodded. “Dr. Brewer. Yes, it is. I’ve been thinking about hiring a mental health consultant to help in the aftermath of traumatic events.”

“And you, what, want to hire her as the consultant?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“And mine,” the President spoke up.

Leo shot the President a relieved look. 

“And you haven’t talked to senior staff or Josh about this?”

“Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Because you know I’d disapprove.”

“That’s right.”

“You’re damn right I’m going to disapprove. What do we even know about this woman?”

“She’s non-partisan, for starters,” The President said with a bit of a smirk. “She didn’t vote for us. She voted Republican.”

“That’s exactly what we need in our White House right now. We just got through the whole thing with Ainsley Hayes as White House Council!” Toby turned to Leo with his arms spread out in exasperation. “Why don’t we just hire the whole damn Republican party? They’d love that.”

“Toby,” Leo said with a warning tone. “You know trauma and the mental health repercussions of it are no strangers in the White House. Nor does it matter which party is in power when it happens. 

“If the party wants to make a stink about it, let them,” President Bartlet chimed in. “We’ll just remind them that mental health is a human issue, not a party one.”

“Are we going to say the same thing when the Democrats start crying foul about our not hiring within the party?” Toby asked, his voice sharp and rising in volume the more he got upset.

“You’re damn right we will.”

Leo glanced between the President and Toby, waiting for the inevitable blow up. He could feel it simmering in the air around them.

“So, what, we’re just going to give her a position in a political office while she has no experience? Not only that, hey, guess what, she didn’t even vote for us, but we’re going to let her influence policy decisions. That’s rich and just what we need a year out from elections.”

“We didn’t say she’d be influencing policy.”

No, they didn’t, and Toby knew that. But the communications director also knew that whatever they were cooking up would expand the staff by two and if they were consultants like Mandy was the previous year, they’d be senior staff. Senior staff worked like a well-oiled machine. If Leo and the President hired the good doctor, it would throw the whole group dynamic off-kilter. Toby scratched the side of his head a moment. The Chief of Staff watched the younger man as he worked through all of the realizations rather quickly.

“If we were to hire her, what would be her official title?”

It was a serious question that needed a serious answer. Leo and the President looked at each other but the President wordlessly yielded the floor to Leo.

“Senior consultant to the President on mental health and accessibility.”

“So, she would be a high enough clearance to influence policy.” It wasn’t a question.

Now they had to backpedal. “Yes,” the President and Leo said in unison.

“And a member of senior staff.” Again, it wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Leo said this time. The President remained silent as the Chief of Staff watched Toby closely.

Toby visibly paused and took a deep breath to calm his anger as he turned away from Leo to address the President.

“Mr. President, with all due respect, I think you’re making a mistake. Address mental health and trauma response but don’t bring someone else in to do it. Not her. How in the hell could I, or even CJ, spin a story about our administration hiring a deaf doctor with no political experience into the core White House staff? It’s impossible.”

With those words, the President stood from his chair and stared eye to eye with Toby. Leo followed suit and buttoned up his suit jacket, watching them warily.

“Toby, I won the Presidency after showing a strong third in Iowa. No one thought I would win. We do impossible things every single day. You would adapt. CJ would adapt. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Leo and I need to talk amongst ourselves.”

Leo glanced between the President and Toby before following Jed through the door on his left, leaving Toby standing in the Oval Office, proverbial smoke coming out of his ears. The Chief of Staff felt worry percolating in his stomach as he shut the door behind him. Toby wasn’t going to let this go. He could see it now. The communications director was going to call CJ and when he was done with CJ, he’d be talking to Sam then Josh. Secrets rarely stayed secrets once Toby got involved. He internally cursed.

Chapter Text

“CJ, do you got a minute?”

“Yeah, what do you need?”

Toby had burned a trail from the Oval to the communication’s bullpen after the meeting with Leo and the President. Ginger and Bonnie both kept out of his way and when he slammed the door to his office to shut out the noises of the bullpen outside, he could hear the pictures in Sam’s office next door rattle on the walls. Or maybe they were his pictures. He was too angry to tell or to care. 

Toby never pretended to have a keen investigative eye. That wasn’t his area of expertise. Words were his expertise, but even he had exhausted his words in the meeting. He knew that the moment the President had made the argument that he’d won the election after a strong third in Iowa. There was no talking him down after that and he wasn’t going to try. Not yet. He knew he needed to, though.

Ria Brewer of ATVA was a liability and if Leo and the President couldn’t see that, then Toby would work to show them. And he started his crusade with CJ.

After he’d taken the time to calm down, and after he’d viciously thrown his Spalding ball a few times against Sam’s office window, he flung the door open and stalked off to CJ’s office which was where he sat, on the love seat to his left as he walked in. CJ remained perched on the edge of her desk, waiting patiently for him to say something.

When he didn’t speak for a few moments, she repeated, “Toby, what do you need?”

“What do you know about Ria Brewer?”

The question was out of left field and obviously not what she was expecting. She stared at him blankly and even that made him angry.

“Who?”

“Ria Brewer,” he motioned vaguely like that would help CJ’s recollection. “Therapist for ATVA. She works with—”

“Josh,” she cut in quickly as recognition dawned on her. “The one Stanley suggested.”

“Yeah. That one.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve not met her.”

“I haven’t either.”

She regarded him curiously. “Then why are you so upset about her?”

“I’m not upset about her,” he countered far too sharply.

“Uh huh. Yeah. Sure, you’re not. You’ve been on edge since you got back to the office.” His eyes narrowed and if he had his Spalding ball with him, no doubt he would be squeezing the life out of it. “What happened?”

He pressed his fingers to his temple and rubbed. Hard. “Leo sent Josh home.”

“Well, after the radio incident, I’m not surprised.”

“I still had a meeting with the President and Leo.”

CJ laughed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, Toby. You have a meeting with the President and Leo every day. Sometimes more than once a day.”

“It’s not the meeting, CJ. It’s what happened in the meeting.”

“Okay,” she began and slid off the side of the desk to sit beside him on the sofa. “I’ll bite. What happened in the meeting?”

“Leo and the President are going to hire Dr. Brewer as a consultant.”

CJ’s eyes widened and she sat back a little bit in confusion. “I’m sorry. Did you say they were going to hire Dr. Brewer?”

“Yeah.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“They actually told you this?”

“They said they were thinking about it, which, if you know the President and Leo, and I think we do, it’s going to happen.”

“Just like that?” She asked, her brows furrowed as she gazed at him in disbelief. “They said they were going to hire her as a consultant and not talk to any of us about it?”

“It sounds like it.”

CJ huffed in annoyance and carded her fingers through her hair. Thank God someone seemed to agree with him about the situation. He’d known her long enough to know that she was wrestling with the nonsense and trying to figure out how to spin the story. He was too, only he couldn’t. He couldn’t and the thought of that made him buzz in anger. He squeezed his hands together in his lap.

“Is she even qualified for the political arena?” She asked, exasperated.

“No. She’s a therapist. What could she know about politics?” Toby snapped.

She shot him a look. "Just because she is a therapist, doesn't mean that she's totally inept at politics."

“Don’t give her the benefit of the doubt,” Toby glowered fiercely. 

“Hey, you gave me the benefit of the doubt three years ago.” 

“You worked for Emily’s List and worked PR before this.”

“Yeah, but do we know what she’s done?”

He shook his head, still trying to reign in the anger he felt coursing through him.

“Do we have her file handy?”

“No. This was kept off our desks.”

CJ nodded in understanding, a bit of realization dawning on her face. “Because it’s not a story we want to get out.”

“No. Could you imagine? I can see the headline now.”

CJ picked up the line of thought before he could continue. “White House Deputy COS Diagnosed with PTSD.”

And Toby continued quickly, pressing his fingers to his eyelids. “How Does This Affect His Job?” He huffed out an annoyed breath. “Then the news cycle would speculate for weeks that the President was looking to replace him against Leo’s advice.”

“We would have to make a statement contrary to the rumors.”

“Or not say anything and risk running the ire of the party and opposition,” he said as his hand fell from his eyes and he turned to face CJ

“Approval ratings would dip.”

“We can’t afford that.”

The lines around her eyes seemed deeper than usual, more worried, more upset, and frustrated and exhausted. They were all exhausted ever since the shooting and the shooting had happened more than six months ago. It was like the cycle of exhaustion would never be broken. He was beginning to see it in everyone, but none more than Josh. However, CJ was starting to look worse for the wear. They had all been so busy with Josh and with moving on from the incident and running the country none of them had the time to breathe or process what had happened properly.

“You know,” she began, his eyes watching her closely as she spoke. “Would it be bad to have someone close to us watching over us? We’d be able to go to her when things were getting rough. She’d be someone to talk to.”

Toby stared at her for a moment. “It would be the second worst thing to happen to us. The first would be hiring her in the first place. Think about it, CJ. Doctor-patient confidentiality, gone. One of us slips about military action or they bring her into the sit room for God knows what, the Republicans would sue us. We’d be taken to trial by the general populace. It would be a political nightmare, CJ.”

“Toby,” CJ began, her expression one of fond exasperation. “I highly doubt they’d bring her into the sit room.”

“The sentiment still stands.”

The room fell quiet. In the back of his mind, he knew that Leo and the President would never invite anyone into the Sit room, but it still bothered him. Bothered him was an understatement, and now his thoughts were just brimming with cycles of words, each repeating phrase making him more and more irritated. He wrung his hands, knuckles white. 

“I think you’re reading too much into this,” she finally said and stood from the sofa to cross back to her desk and chair.

“I don’t think you’re reading enough into this. She’d be a security leak and it’s important that the President and Leo understand the implications of hiring her.”

“And I think you should understand the other side of it.” CJ sat down at her desk, her voice soft as she spoke, trying to calm the rage that was still simmering under Toby’s façade.

“What could possibly be the other side of it, CJ?”

Her lips pursed into a thin line. “I’ve already told you, but I’ll tell you again.”

But Toby shook his head, finally accepting a small measure of defeat and sitting back in the sofa. The tension in his body drained until his posture was slack and he heaved a heavy sigh.

“I don’t need you to tell me again. I know.” He sat forward again, his elbows resting on his thighs. “You think that having her around will help all of us?”

She nodded. “You know we’re not doing well with all of this. It’s not every day we get shot at. It’s not every day we almost lose—” She couldn’t go on. “We’re all just normal people, Toby. We can’t handle this all our own. No matter what the Republicans might say.”

“And what about the court of popular opinion?”

“What about it, Toby? Let them talk. What did Leo say last year? ‘We’re going to raise the level of debate in this country?’ Think of the discussions people will have about mental health if we do this.”

“I don’t think I need to tell you that we can’t risk our favorables dropping because of something like mental health.”

“And I don’t think I need to remind you that our favorables are at an all time high.”

“Because of the shooting,” Toby stated pointedly, yet flatly.

“Okay, yeah, because of the shooting, but I think Ria could do some good and I think we should give her a chance. But I do think it needs to be brought up in a staff meeting.”

“And risk Josh having a meltdown?”

“We’re always at risk with that right now. But I agree that he needs to know.”

Toby nodded and finally stood from his perch on the sofa. For now the conversation was over, until, of course, he could pick it up again and bring it back around when it was convenient. It would always be convenient until either Leo or the President saw the error of their ways. He could laugh. They never saw the error of their ways, did they?

“Hey Toby?” He was midway to the door of her office when she spoke, and he turned toward her with a questioning expression on his face. “Maybe let’s not tell Sam about this?”

An almost smile graced his lips. “I won’t if you won’t.”

“Trust me,” she said through a laugh. “I won’t.”

He turned to leave again, but once again, she stopped him. “Toby?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

He looked at her in disbelief, like he couldn’t believe she asked that question. “Dinner? With you?”

“Yeah. Someplace fancy. I wear a dress that’s just a tad too short for me and you wear a suit and we pretend we don’t work together. You know? Dinner.”

“And Danny won’t be mad about this?”

“Why does everyone think that Danny Concannon and I are a thing?”

“Because you and Danny Concannon are a thing.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “No, we aren’t.”

That answer and the way she looked prompted him to ask, “Is this a date, CJ?”

“It can be if you want it to be,” which was her backwards way of saying that it definitely was going to be a date.

He swallowed thickly, giving her an impressed look. “I’ll see you at seven?”

“Full-lid’s at eight.”

“Then I’ll see you at eight.”

She shot him a signature CJ grin, all wide and bright with a hint of laughter in her eyes. He couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head, his anger momentarily forgotten, but not too forgotten. He turned and stalked from her office to mull over the day and what he needed to do to derail this ridiculous plan of Leo’s and the President’s.

Chapter Text

Ria’s day went by quickly. When she got back to the office, she saw four more patients one right after the other. By the time five o’clock rolled around, her stomach was growling, in desperate need of some food. Tuesdays were now her long day, and not just because of her dealings with the White House and Josh.

She checked her watch before glancing over at Roger’s desk. He was hard at work, headphones on, transcribing patient notes onto the computer for Ria. She wondered how she’d gotten so lucky with Roger. He was older than most interpreters. He’d started learning ASL later in life and picked it up quickly. He’d always been a therapist, and that was his first job, his first love. But going to night school to learn interpreting had become a passion, something he’d told her soon after they met and became friends.

He was nearing fifty, the red hair at his temples turning blonde and gray. He’d understood her when no one else did after Jack died. In a lot of ways, Roger was her savior and she mulled on that as she watched him type, his blue eyes focused on the computer. She smiled and began to gather her things to go grab some food and head to the White House. She’d have to get something quick and easy to eat on the run. She never liked to be late to important meetings.

She paused as she shoved a file into her briefcase. Leo’s meeting wasn’t important, per se, but it was important to her. She was eager to go and learn more about him, to talk to him, to get to know him in a way that maybe no one else knew him. That thought made her snort to herself as she continued to pack her briefcase and gather her things. Yeah, right. Dr. Ria Brewer getting to know the President's Chief of Staff in the most intimate way wasn’t going to happen. She knew that. She knew that because a) he was the second most powerful man in the world and b) she didn’t live in a movie. This was work, off the record, off the books, no strings attached. Work. Nothing more. Nothing less.

She stood, shut off her computer, and rounded her desk to approach Roger’s. He stopped transcribing, paused the little tape recorder, and hooked his headset around his neck.

You’re heading out for the night? He asked with a smile.

She nodded. Going to get some food. Want anything? I can order pizza. Or Chinese.

He thought about it for a moment. No, I think I’m okay. Thank you, though.

Ria smiled warmly. Don’t work too hard.

I’m almost done, he signed with a wink. She quirked an eyebrow at him, her lips pursed into a line. Okay, okay. I’m not almost done, but I’ll be home before ten.

I’ll call you and make sure you are.

I know you will.

She shook her head. Goodnight, Roger.

She turned to leave, but Roger stood to catch up with her, his hand settling on her shoulder. She turned to face him, that same eyebrow quirked as she peered at him.

What’s up?

You never did say what you and Mr. McGarry talked about last week. Have you seen him again?

It was then Ria realized she hadn’t said much about anything that was going on between Leo, the President, and her. She kept it all locked up tight like it was a secret treasure meant only for her and no one else. It was a secret treasure, though. She knew what Roger would think. She knew what anyone would think if they caught wind of it. Speaking to the President and the Chief of Staff in her position was a dangerous endeavor. She knew that. She also knew that Leo deserved discretion. They all did.

We’ve met about Josh, but briefly. After you left today.

But you’ve not gone to talk to him like last week?

She took a deep breath. I’m going to talk to him at eight this evening.

She couldn’t exactly lie about it. Roger would see right through her anyway. He always did. He was good at that.

For a long moment, Roger stared at her, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t try to dissuade her or tell her it was dangerous. He smiled and shook his head. She knew that move. She knew it meant that he knew exactly what was going on. He also knew that she knew what she was doing and probably wouldn’t get in trouble.

Be careful. And that’s all he said, adding after a moment, I’ll call in Chinese and get it on the way home.

Good, you better. She signed pointedly. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Roger

Night, Ria.

He sat back at his desk and continued transcribing. She watched him for a long moment before she headed out the door.

***

After eating a quick bite for dinner, she wound her way through the halls of the White House. She was beginning to get good at figuring out the layout of the place, so she didn’t stop so many times to ask for directions. She always felt like she was a burden when she did that. But the guards had always been so nice to her, something she appreciated. Niceties in society were few and far between. Finding the Bartlet Administration and the people who worked for them so friendly was a welcome reprieve. A few guards, the very friendly ones, waved as she passed them, and she waved back.

The White House was still a bustling epicenter of people and organized chaos. People roamed the halls carrying files and coffee, sometimes both. Sometimes people held food clenched between their teeth as they roamed between offices and the mess. Normally such chaos made her anxiety spike. It wasn’t easy for her to be in these places. It usually made her head hurt. While most would be bothered by the noise of the office, the source of her pain was her attempts not to read everyone’s lips as she passed them. Sometimes it was easy not to hyper-focus, but here at the White House, it was hard not to want to read everyone’s lips and try to decipher what was going on. But she kept her eyes forward and tried not to stray.

It was 7:45 exactly when she ended up in front of Margaret’s desk with a bright smile, her eyes shining as she greeted the redhead. She liked Margaret. Every time she met with her, she liked her more and more. She couldn’t say why, but she did.

“Evening, Margaret.”

“Evening, Ria,” she said as she looked up from her computer. She smiled as well. “He’s in a meeting. He should be out soon.”

“Thank you.” She considered something for a moment, her brows furrowing in thought. “Margaret, I’m going to talk to Charlie until Leo’s finished. Is he in?”

“He should be. Let me take you,” she stood from her desk and grabbed a file. “I needed to drop something off anyway.”

“Thank you.”

Margaret led Ria the short way to the foyer of the Oval. She talked the entire time about some statistic that Ria wasn’t sure she understood. It could’ve been that she wasn’t paying attention. It could’ve been that she was nervous again, even though she’d already talked to Leo more than once and met the President more than once now too. The anxiety spike she was expecting earlier came at her in full force. She swallowed it down thickly. If Margaret noticed her worries, she didn’t say anything.

They passed through the door and Margaret dropped her file into a basket on the desk to her left.

“--it said, Mrs. Landingham.”

Ria caught a glimpse of that sentence as she turned her attention from Margaret to Charlie. He and an older woman with bobbed blonde hair and glasses stood there in conversation. The older woman must have been the famous Mrs. Landingham.

“No, I don’t believe that at all, Charlie. You must’ve read it wrong.”

“How could I have read it wrong if it was printed in two different newspapers?”

Ria stepped further into the space between Charlie and Mrs. Landingham’s desks. The young man looked up from the conversation and greeted her with a smile, but returned his attention to Mrs. Landingham. Ria regretted not asking Roger to come along with her. It was difficult to read their lips and she was only getting bits and pieces of the conversation as she turned away to await her audience with Leo. She tried not to make herself conspicuous, but to read lips, it was kind of hard not to be obvious.

The older woman suddenly pursed her lips, no doubt in response to whatever Charlie had said, but didn’t look up from her computer. Ria thought she was aware of prying eyes and prying ears.

Mrs. Landingham was dressed in a sharp cobalt blue suit jacket and a freshly pressed white shirt that still smelled like starch. Unlike Leo’s desk or Josh’s, her desk was clean, organized, peppered with picture frames and a two-tiered, black plastic basket for on-the-go filing. Homey in a professional way. It made Ria smile. She found herself not caring that she was eavesdropping on her and Charlie’s conversation, which had stopped as Mrs. Landingham realized she was watching them.

“Can I help you, miss?”

Ria blinked and broke her stare. Her neck and up into her cheeks turned bright pink as she ducked her head briefly. “Apologies, ma’am. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

Her gaze rose again so she could read the older lady’s lips in case she spoke back to her, and she did.

“Since you were listening, maybe you can settle something for us.”

Mrs. Landingham’s gaze settled on Ria, and she felt both chastised and welcomed. It was a strange sort of feeling; one she’d only felt a week before when she met Leo in his office under these same circumstances. The older woman’s blue eyes shined with a bit of a comforting curiosity behind her glasses. Comforting curiosity and something else. Something warm and familiar. Ria always felt a kinship with older women, and she couldn’t pinpoint why. Ria had always been told she had an old soul. Maybe that was the reason. Or maybe Ria was wired that way. She was a therapist after all. She had to appeal to everyone. Well, not everyone, that was impossible. But she always seemed drawn to ones who had pasts and interesting stories. Mrs. Landingham had an interesting story, Ria could tell.

“Before we start, I’m Dolores Landingham.”

“Dr. Ria Brewer. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Landingham,” Ria said with an outstretched hand, one that was not sweaty this time.

Mrs. Landingham gave it a firm shake before asking, “Dr. Brewer, do you think newspapers lie depending on where they’re distributed? Charlie doesn’t think so, but he works for us, so, of course, he’s biased.”

Ria caught Charlie chuckling out of the corner of her eye.

“Certain newspapers do appeal to certain demographics, yes. A conservative state might write a headline that is different than a liberal one. Plus, it all depends on what side is in power at the moment. TV stations are the same way.”

Mrs. Landingham nodded once. “Thank you, Dr. Brewer.”

“Please, it’s Ria. Dr. Brewer makes me sound like a—I don’t know—” she cut herself off and motioned vaguely with her free hand.

“Ria,” the older woman’s brows furrowed as Ria watched her work through how the name felt on her tongue. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stick to Dr. Brewer for now.”

“I don’t mind,” Ria chuckled.

“Is it short for something?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I thought so.”

But Mrs. Landingham didn’t ask what Ria was short for. She shot Ria a small grin then went back to work like nothing was amiss. Charlie returned to his desk to get back to work and the foyer fell quiet. The conversation with the two of them had made Ria forget why she wanted to talk to Charlie in the first place. She needed to get better at that. Her attention span was awful in this place.

Fifteen minutes seemed to pass by quickly. As soon as she remembered what she was going to ask Charlie, the President came out of the Oval, his eyebrows raising when he saw Ria.

“Ria, are you here for another meeting with Leo?”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“We’re going to be another thirty minutes or so if you want to wait here.” But before Ria could answer, the President turned to Mrs. Landingham. “Mrs. Landingham do you have the—”

On cue, the older woman handed him a file with a fond, exasperated look on her face. Ria bit her lip and ducked her to hide a snicker. She missed the equally fond glare from the President and his “thank you” as he disappeared back into the Oval Office.

Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes in the White House waiting for Leo where all manner of people could walk in and wonder what she was doing and why she was there. But she tried not to think about that as she rocked on her feet for a moment. Margaret had already quietly slipped out to go back to her desk. She was left between Mrs. Landingham and Charlie’s desk, unsure of what to do or where to go.

After a few foundering moments, she felt a hand lay on her shoulder and Charlie was beside her with a chair and a smile.

“Have a seat.”

“Thank you, Charlie.”

She sat down with a small smile, her briefcase ending up on the floor beside her as she sat out of the way of general foot traffic. She could’ve waited with Margaret and Margaret would probably have stuck her in Leo’s office, but she liked this. It was quiet and out of the way, but if she wanted to talk to anyone, she could.

At first, she didn’t. Charlie looked busy, sitting at his desk with textbooks open and files scattered on his desk. Mrs. Landingham looked busy as well, her gaze bouncing between her computer and a file on her desk, transcribing something. She gazed at the pair of them with fascination, trying to figure out what she could by watching them the way she'd done with Leo. But Mrs. Landingham was hard to figure out.

Like Leo, she was a guarded person, but she imagined that the older woman was compassionate yet pragmatic, much like Leo was. She had that same aura, that same enigmatic persona that she always found herself drawn to. It was nothing new.

After a few minutes of watching Mrs. Landingham, the woman turned to Ria and regarded her curiously. “What are you a doctor of, Dr. Brewer?”

Thankfully, Ria had been paying attention to the woman. “I’m a traumatologist and a psychologist, Mrs. Landingham.”

“And you’re here to talk to Mr. McGarry?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Unofficially, I presume.”

She chuckled. “Yes, ma’am. Unofficially.”

“He’s not in some kind of trouble, is he?”

“No, ma’am, not at all.”

“And you talk to Josh as well, right?”

A nod and a reassuring smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.”

Her smile widened as Mrs. Landingham returned to her work. Silence fell between the three, but curiosity got the better of Ria. Those pictures on the older woman’s desk intrigued her.

So, she asked, “Mrs. Landingham?”

The older woman turned from her computer to look at Ria. “Yes, Dr. Brewer?”

“Who is in the pictures on your desk?”

Mrs. Landingham’s face dropped, her gaze falling from Ria’s to light on the little wooden frames on her desk. Ria could’ve sworn she saw the hint of sadness flash in the blues of her eyes, but she didn’t want to push the woman. If she wanted to say something about those pictures, she would have to do it in her own time. She might be a therapist, but she wasn’t pushy.

The older woman’s shoulders slumped a little, but Ria watched as she took a breath and looked back at her. “Those are my boys.”

“Your sons? How old are they?”

Mrs. Landingham was quiet for a moment. “They would have been fifty this year. They died in Vietnam. Christmas Eve, 1970.”

Ria’s heart sank. “Oh, Mrs. Landingham, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Dr. Brewer.” She paused and looked at her pictures again. “I miss them. But time makes all wounds heal.”

Ria let out a sigh and nodded in agreement. “I know how that feels.”

Charlie must’ve said something behind her back because, after a moment, Mrs. Landingham looked over her shoulder and said, “Charlie, that’s not polite to ask that question. What if she doesn’t want to talk about it?”

Ria chuckled, mirthless, guessing what Charlie must have asked. She turned to face him and replied, “I lost my fiancé. Five years ago.”

“Sometimes I think to work at the White House, you have to have lost someone.” Charlie straightened out his desk a little to hide his face, then said, “We all seem to have in some way.”

“It makes you more empathetic.”

Charlie stood as soon as she finished speaking, as did Mrs. Landingham. Ria looked up to be greeted, once again, by the President, who was, once again, leading people out of the Oval Office. She had the thought that this was getting to be second nature to her. She was getting used to brushing shoulders and elbows with the elite in Washington. It didn’t make her feel any better, but she tried not to think about it as she watched Leo conversing with a member of the party.

She glanced over at Charlie in time to see him say, “Losing people, sir.”

The President waved them all down. Charlie and Mrs. Landingham sat down at their desks, but Ria remained standing, intent on following Leo back to his office.

“Ah, yes. Death does tend to do that, doesn’t it?” He asked, equal parts somber and ever curious about the woman standing on his right.

And, of course, Ria concurred with a small, mirthless smile. “Make people empathetic?” The President nodded. “Yes, sir, it does.”

The NSC staffers were immediately curious about the new woman standing in front of Mrs. Landingham’s desk, but the President didn’t indulge them. Ria was grateful for that. They went on their way with handshakes and smiles—much different than the people from earlier that day, she notice. When they left, the only people in the foyer were Ria, Mrs. Landingham, the President, Charlie, and Leo. They all looked between each other curiously. Ria rocked on her toes, waiting for someone to say something first, waiting for Leo to break away from the President and head to his office. But no one moved.

“Well,” the President began, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I should go. Let everyone get back to work.” He turned his attention to Ria. “It was good seeing you again.”

“You too, Mr. President,” she said with a bright smile.

Leo was still standing behind the President and he seemed to know it because before he turned to go back to the Oval, he winked at Ria where Leo couldn’t see. Then he disappeared through the door and shut it behind him. Ria wasn’t sure what to make of that, but she didn’t let on that she’d seen it other than her furrowed brow as she turned to look at Leo.

“Lead the way?” She asked as she motioned with her briefcase out the door of the foyer.

He nodded and did so, brushing past her to head out of the office space and she followed him.

Chapter Text

Leo led her back to his office. The lighting was dim, tinged amber like it had been the first time they’d met and talked. After all the harsh light in other areas of the White House, his office was a soothing boon to her aching head. There weren’t any people here to pay attention to, or try not to pay attention to. There was nothing for her to pay attention to. Well, that was a lie. She had Leo McGarry to pay attention to, and that was enough to make her feel sick, stomach all aflutter with nerves and butterflies and feelings that she could never reciprocate. 

Get it together, Ria , she silently chided herself, as she took it upon herself to sit in one of the chairs to the left of his desk. 

“The President said that you were impressed with me today.” 

Leo looked up from his desk, their gazes meeting. “He did?” 

“Yup, because I showed some backbone in front of Berryhill and Reid.” 

She was trying not to smile, trying not to show just how pleased she was to be saying this to him, knowing that the amused expression from earlier was solely for her. The butterflies in her stomach flapped harder as she unbuttoned her suit jacket and sat back in the chair. He smirked, the lines at his eyes deepening. Her smile grew–bright, amiable, and happy–ignoring the elephant in the room for the moment. This was supposed to be a good talk. In fact, she already felt herself getting ready for the inevitable. She tried not to think about it, but the sharp reminder of the last time they talked lingered in her mind. 

“You know, I don’t think they knew what to do with you.” 

“After I read them the riot act?” 

He laughed and sat down in front of her. “I’d hate to see you lead an actual riot.”

“Well, there was a time I wanted to organize protests and work with the union. I thought I would be good at it. Then I realized real life wasn’t like The Pajama Game .” Leo pressed his lips together tightly but the slight shake in his shoulders gave away his amusement. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he began, shaking his head. “I just never would have pegged you for someone who likes musicals.” 

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Mr. McGarry.” 

She felt smug, pleased that there was something that he didn’t know about her, pleased that there were things he would have to learn from her and not some file that the FBI put together on her. It gave her power and it was a power he could never steal from her. She crossed her legs and sized him up, waiting for him to steer the conversation, knowing she had the upper hand in these conversations. 

“I know more than I don’t.” 

Maybe she had the upper hand in these conversations. 

“Okay, then, what’s my favorite color?” 

His gaze flicked over her body and she tried not to shift under his gaze. “Red.” 

She didn’t dispute it. “Favorite movie.” 

“Bank records indicate you rent The Philadelphia Story a lot.”

“What can I say, I like Katharine Hepburn.”

“I was more of a Ginger Rogers man.” 

“See, I was more of a Gene Kelly girl than Fred Astaire.” 

“How dare you.” 

She laughed, amused at their little back and forth. “Do you not like Gene Kelly?” 

“He was a bit of a perfectionist.” 

Ria shot him a look. “And Astaire wasn’t? He made Ginger’s feet bleed just like Kelly did with Debbie Reynolds.” 

Leo tilted his head curiously. “How do you know all of this?” 

“I read.” 

“Are you accusing me of not reading?” 

“Actually, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” 

The curious expression on his face hadn’t budged. His brows furrowed, putting on a show, a facade, hiding behind deflection and false interest. She saw past that and hoped he would allow her to dig deeper, especially as she saw his hands tighten slightly on the arms of his chair. 

“Why?”

Ria shrugged. “Call it a hunch.”

“Therapists work off hunches now?”

“No,” she laughed, “but I rely on body language more than most do.”

“And there’s something in my body language that tells you I don’t read often?”

“I know you read, Mr. McGarry, but I also know you’re a workaholic. You’re here late into the night only to go home and return early the next morning.” 

“So what I read is connected to the job, is what you’re saying.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she countered easily, getting comfortable in the chair, her arms settled on the arm rests, open, honest, approachable. 

Leo fell quiet, eyeing her closely. This time, she shifted under his gaze. It felt more intrusive than usual, even though she’d only been under his gaze like this twice before. But this time, it felt like he was trying to peel her back, expose her layers and what she held underneath years of hurt; emotions buried, exposed, and buried again. She didn’t know why she felt so uncertain like this. He knew everything about her, but this was Leo here, and the pounding of her heart and the butterflies in her stomach told her all she needed to know about why she felt exposed and uncertain as he looked at her. 

“You’re not wrong. The job doesn’t often allow for such leisure.” 

“Because you don’t allow yourself such leisure?” 

She waited for the inevitable explosion that had happened before but the faintest hint of a smile played on his lips. “You try running the country when your party isn’t the majority.”

“I’ve heard it’s very difficult.” 

“It’s extremely difficult,” he began, pausing for a moment, fiddling with the arm of his glasses. “But you didn’t come here to talk about my job.” The glasses disappeared into his suit jacket.

“I didn’t. I don’t know why I came here tonight. That’s up to you to decide.” 

“I don’t think you’ll like talking about what I want to talk about.” 

Vietnam. He wanted to talk about Vietnam. She swallowed thickly, thinking back on their other conversation and how it ended. The butterflies in her stomach changed to nervous rumblings that vibrated her inside. She hoped he couldn't hear them.

“Try me.” She smirked, feeling empowered despite the uncertainty percolating in her stomach. 

Leo was quiet for a long moment, his gaze settled on his hands. He didn’t want to say anything. He didn’t want to admit what was bothering him. She could’ve pushed him, but she knew that this had to be on his own terms. She wondered if what she’d read about him before was true; if that was just one more thing in addition to the trauma from Vietnam and the shooting. What else could he be holding inside of him? She wanted to know. She wanted to know every intricate detail, wanted to hold onto it and fix it.

His gaze resettled on her. “Seven years ago, I checked myself into Sierra Tucson, a rehab facility for alcohol and drug addiction. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

“Pretend I haven’t.”

“You must not care that much about politics, then.” 

“I didn’t vote for your administration,” she replied pointedly.

He paused. “Point taken.” 

She chuckled, but it was subdued. She didn’t want him to think that she was making fun of his problems. On the contrary, she knew exactly what those problems were, and they weren’t laughing matters. But she did want to hear him say it in his own words, like he’d done with Vietnam. She didn’t trust any newspapers to not take a biased stance on the matter, and it had been a year or so since she’d heard about it. 

“When did the addiction start?” 

He drew a heavy breath. “Which one?” 

“How about the one that started first?” 

Leo held her gaze for a long moment. She tried reading him, tried to figure out what he was thinking and what he was about to say, but looking at him was like looking at a closed book. He kept himself so tightly wound that any tic was hard to decipher. Sure, she could tell the easy ones, like the way he fidgeted sometimes when she asked a question, or how other times he tensed up. Sometimes she couldn’t tell which way was up or down, whether he was about to jump down her throat or be calm. This was one such moment. Would he be mad about the way she asked and wrestled the conversation away from his control? She waited with bated breath. 

“Sometimes, it’s hard to remember which one started first.” 

She let out the breath she was holding, but something about that statement made her hesitate. Was he lying or telling the truth? She wasn't sure. 

“I understand.” 

“Have a lot of experience with addictions, do you?” He asked, deflecting. 

“Not as much experience as I probably should.” 

That was a lie. She hoped he couldn’t see right through her. 

“Then don’t say you understand. You could never understand what it’s like. Depending on a drink to get you through the day. Depending on pills to numb the pain, to make it all stop.” Ria swallowed thickly as he continued to speak, “You haven't seen the battlefield. You have no idea what it takes to cope.”

“I may not have seen the battlefield like you have, but I fight battles everyday for people who are struggling. That’s what I’m here for.” His gaze fell from hers. “You don’t have to be ashamed.” 

Leo looked back up at her. “Who said I was?” 

“You don’t have to say it. I can see it.” His head tilted, brows furrowing. “Just then, when I corrected you, you looked away from me. Right now, you’re showing your curiosity and trying to figure out if what I’m saying is true and that I can really read you that well.” 

The same brows that were furrowed now rose high on his forehead. “So, then, tell me: was I lying when I said it was hard to figure out what came first?” 

The question threw her. 

She sat with it for a few moments, chewing on her bottom lip a moment before she said, “I don’t know.” 

He nodded. “It was.” He took a deep breath, held it, then let it out. “I started drinking before Vietnam. It wasn’t a lot. I kept myself in moderation whenever I could. But then I was shot down over the jungle and I was injured. After that, I drank to hide. Numb the pain. Whatever reason you could think of, I drank to silence it. Then, when the nightmares got too bad, I took Valium to help me sleep. Soon, I was taking Valium all the time, hoping it would calm me down enough to get me through the day.” 

Whatever Ria was expecting, that wasn’t it. She hoped the shock she was feeling didn’t register on her face. It took every single ounce of self control to keep herself from spilling the beans and telling him the truth. But she figured he had to know some, if not all, of what she’d been through since Jack died. Maybe he was just being kind. Maybe he didn’t know. 

“You’re surprised.” 

She could curse. “Not surprised, per se.” 

“So you have read the newspapers,”  he stated wryly. 

“It’s been about a year ago now, hasn’t it?” 

“Since Lillianfield forced my hand? Yeah, about a year.” Ria fell quiet, considering her next words carefully, but he quickly gained the upper hand. “If you don’t treat drug addiction, why are we talking about it?” 

He only thought he gained the upper hand. “You were the one who started the conversation. And you kept talking.” She said through a smirk, but the expression was short-lived. She softened, trying not to anger him. “I’m here to listen to you, Leo. I’m here to help you work through whatever you want to work through. That can be your history of addiction and how you feel towards it, or whatever you want it to be.” 

“I’d prefer not to talk about it at all.” His gaze fell from her, down onto his hands in his lap. They were laced together tightly, shoulders shifting, jaw clenched. 

“Then why am I here?” she asked through a small laugh, hoping to ease the subtly rising tension. 

He fell quiet. She could almost see the gears turning from her perch across from him. He was trying to figure that out; why he wanted to talk to her when for so long he’d kept everything under wraps. Ria could admit that he carried everything remarkably well, but she also knew that that came about from years of keeping things to himself. It wasn’t hard to figure that out. The ones who hid behind their carefully constructed facades were always far more difficult for her to read. He was getting easier, but just because she was learning his tics didn’t mean she could interpret them all. 

Blue eyes locked with hers and the answer rolled off his tongue so easily, she was sure he could see the surprise written all over her. 

“Because you interest me, Dr. Brewer. Not a lot of people do that, anymore.” 

All she could do was blink and stare rather blankly at him for a moment while she tried to comprehend exactly what he was saying. “I interest you? How– how do I interest you?”

“Well, first off, it’s not every day I meet someone who is as well-composed as you are. Second off, you’re good at what you do.” 

“I do believe you just gave me a compliment.” 

“And you deserve it.” 

She sat with that information for far longer than she probably should’ve, given the fact she was seated across from him and heaven only knew how busy his schedule was–even at this time of night–but she didn’t know what to do or what to say. He was interested in her? Her? Dr. Ria Brewer, from middle of nowhere Ohio, who was as good as widowed, who was deaf, a therapist, and had enough demons to drown his out? Every single part of her brain short-circuited. 

“Mr. McGarry–”

“Leo.”

Ria swallowed a lump in her throat and kept going. “Mr. McGarry, I’m– I don’t know what to say to that.” 

“You don’t have to say anything.” 

That statement didn’t help at all. 

“Can we go back to talking about you?” 

The faintest glimmer of mirth danced across his face. 

“What do you want to know?” 

Her mind kept returning to Vietnam, the drugs, the alcoholism–all of it. They weren't exactly things she wanted to bring back up, but at least they distracted from the thoughts tumbling through her head at the moment. 

“You said you were shot down in Vietnam. Were you…” she took a breath, steeled herself, then continued, “were you a prisoner of war?”

Leo shook his head. “No. I was lucky. Others weren’t.” 

“I hope you don’t find this question impertinent, but your limp…were you injured when you were shot down?” He nodded. “You took more than Valium, didn’t you?” He nodded again, eyes downcast. “And Sierra Tucson didn’t know?”

“They knew about the Valium, not the other stuff.” 

“Does anybody know?” 

“Abbey knew.” He paused. “Now you.” 

“Why me?” 

“This again?” 

“No,” she tried and failed to hold back a lopsided smile. “I’m being serious.” 

“Because I trust you.” 

The heaviness of the admission wasn’t lost on her. It settled in her chest and threatened to take root there. It threatened to crawl into the deepest part of her, hold on for dear life, and never, ever let go. But, despite that, it felt like some kind of ruse. She didn’t know him well enough. It didn’t feel in-character for him to admit to something like that, especially not after only meeting each other and speaking to each other a handful of times over the course of the past couple of weeks. 

There were only two options left after that statement: to tell him the truth, or to not. It would be so easy to admit that she had lied earlier, when she said she didn't have a lot of experience with addiction. It would be equally as easy to leave things as they were. 

“How does it make you feel?” She asked curiously.

His eyebrows knitted together, mouth turned down into a frown. “What, trusting you?” 

“No, I mean… looking back at who you were before. How you were when you were addicted. How does that make you feel?” 

Ria watched him as he worked through that question, watched as the muscle in his jaw tensed, how every single part of him seemed rigid. 

“Angry.” 

“Why?” 

“My father shot himself in the head when he was drunk one night.” She winced, but he kept going. “I knew better. I knew I shouldn’t be doing what I was doing, and yet, I couldn’t stop. I needed it to feel like myself, but, even then, I knew I was just fooling myself. It made me a husk of who I was. I know that now and I wish I knew that then.” 

Her chest ached as she watched him admit to all of that. She knew what she had to do, even if it would ruin whatever chance she had at working in the White House in whatever capacity it came. 

“Drugs and alcoholism warp your sense of self. You think you’re doing well, but in the end, you’re destroying parts of yourself. After Jack died, I willingly destroyed parts of myself because I didn’t want to face them without him. I’ve been sober for three years, but that anger at yourself never goes away. In time, it becomes sadness. Sadness for the things you lost.” 

“I think they work hand in hand.” 

Ria nodded. “They’re powerful internal motivators, aren’t they?” 

“Yeah, I’d say so,” he said with a mirthless chuckle. “Next time you come to visit, can we talk about things that are less depressing?” 

“Is there going to be a next time?” 

The worry that had settled in her stomach earlier came back with a vengeance. Had she just destroyed the one good thing she had in her life? Only Roger knew she had struggled after Jack died. She didn’t go to rehab. She got clean with Roger’s help. Leo said he trusted her, but she didn’t know him well enough to trust him in return. 

“I won’t say anything if you don’t.” 

Relief flooded through her body. 

“Then I’ll see you again. Whenever is good for the both of us.” 

She grinned. “You’re the one who’s the busiest.” 

Leo chuckled. “Point taken.

“In that case,” she began as she stood,  “why don’t we see each other on Tuesday?”

He followed suit. 

“Same time?” 

She bent to pick up her briefcase. “Same time.” 

“I look forward to it.” 

“Me too,” Ria said with a smile. “I’ll see you then. Goodnight, Leo.” 

“Goodnight, Ria.” 

She resisted the urge to hug him as he turned and headed out of his office into the hallway. About halfway down the hall, she paused and leaned back against a doorframe, catching her breath, trying to figure out what the hell had happened that night, what it meant for the future, and what it all meant between her and Leo. Whatever it was, even if she was a little confused by it, she knew she liked it.

Chapter Text

Jan. 26, 2001

“I’m not saying I want the job,” Ria began as she sipped her coffee. “I’m just saying we should talk about it.”

She sat down in front of Roger’s desk, sweater sleeves pushed up her arms, hair haphazardly pulled up into a messy bun, a number two pencil and a pen slid into the knot.

“I’m pretty sure we’ve been talking about it for the past two days,” Roger quipped back, smirking over at her, eyes shining with mirth. 

“See, I don’t think we’ve been talking about it enough.” 

“Ria–”

She held up her free hand in surrender. “I know we’ve been busy, but we need to establish some pros and cons here.” 

“Ria you haven’t even been offered the job. You don’t even know if you’re on the list.” 

Her lips pursed into a thin line. “The President said as much,” she said dryly. 

“He didn’t and you know it.” 

Her brows narrowed, as did her eyes, and she shot him a one handed curse as she sipped her coffee again. She knew exactly what the President had said two days previous. She knew because she had been worrying it over and over in her mind so much, she had the whole conversation memorized. It wasn’t every day that the President of the United States asked a nobody for an opinion. Ria was a nobody and he very plainly had asked about a mental health consultant. She remembered because once she got back home that day after seeing Leo, she had instantly regretted what she’d told him and how she reacted. 

Two days later, she was still regretting it. 

“You weren’t there, Roger. He asked me and when I asked if I was on the list he said maybe.” 

“Maybe isn’t a guarantee.” 

“Okay, then, Mr. Know-It-All, what is it?” 

Roger quirked an eyebrow. “He was pulling your leg and you got all worked up about it.” 

“What was I supposed to do? I don’t know if you know this, but he is the President of the United States.” 

“Yeah,” the older man began; Ria could read the sarcasm all over him. “I’m aware. You’ve pointed that out about five hundred times now.” 

“Well, it’s true.” 

Roger’s face broke into a grin, body shaking in laughter. “You’re incorrigible.” 

“No, I’m hopeful,” she said with a wink. “Now, can we please talk about it?” 

He heaved a heavy sigh, a smile still on his lips. “Yes, we can.” 

She finished her coffee and sat the cup on the corner of his desk. It took a moment for her to gather herself. She’d been thinking about this for days now and she needed a good place to start. They could begin with cons, get the pessimism out of the way, or they could start with pros. She wasn’t worried about the cons, at least not at that moment, but she knew that Roger would be. It wasn’t just her life that would be upended if she took this job. He never signed up for a political job. Neither had she, truth were known, but the thought–while scary at first–had enticed her and it had absolutely nothing to do with Leo McGarry. She just had to keep telling herself that and maybe she would believe that. 

“Thank you. Now, what do we want to start with?” 

“I’d say cons,” he stated definitively as he reached for a notebook. “Do you have a pen?” She handed him the one from her hair. “I think you like stealing my pens.” 

“Your pens write better than mine,” she pouted playfully. 

“You could just let me buy your pens.” 

“But then you would be stealing my pens.” 

His face scrunched in amusement. “Point taken. Now are we talking about pens or employment?” 

“Employment. Got it. Okay, what are some cons to working for the White House?” She paused. “We wouldn’t be able to have our practice.” 

“Yeah, that’s the first thing that would go.” 

Ria frowned. “And I worked hard for this practice.” 

“But a lot of your patients are from ATVA.” 

“Which makes it easier to transition.” The frown on her lips deepened. “Long hours.” Another laugh shook Roger’s shoulders. “What?” 

“We already work long hours.” 

“Yeah, but we’ve never had to work overnight before. We’ve never had to work twenty-four hours straight, or longer.” 

Roger’s eyes widened. “You think we’ll have a lot of days like that?” 

“I think there’s a possibility.” She motioned with her hand to the pad of paper. “Write it down.” 

Roger did as told, all the while, Ria sat there and tried to come up with some more bad things that would come from taking the job if offered. At first, she couldn’t think of anything besides the fact that if she went to work there, she would lose Josh as a patient. There would be no way she could continue working with him and trying to get him better. She was reminded, once again, that any type of doctor-patient confidentiality would hold no merit in the White House. She chewed on her bottom lip. Just because she worked there didn’t mean she would have to stop talking to him. She just couldn’t help in a professional capacity. But, then again, she would be a mental health consultant. 

“You wouldn’t be able to retain Josh as a patient.” 

“Well, not officially through my practice.” 

Roger raised an eyebrow. “You think you’d still be able to keep him through ATVA?” 

“Well, Stanley worked with him through ATVA,” she replied. 

“Yeah, but that was a bit of an extenuating circumstance.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Point taken. Add it to the list.” 

So he did. “What else?”

“Do you think they’ll stop me from keeping Cocoa when I get her back from training?” 

“Legally they can’t. You have a disability. They can’t deny you that.” 

“Right. I knew that. Okay, so we don’t have to worry about that.” Ria sat back in her chair and fiddled with the hem of her sweater as she continued to think. “I can’t think of anything else, can you?” 

“What about your conversations with Mr. McGarry?” 

She lifted an eyebrow and tried not to snap back at him with some sort of unneeded retort. What about Leo? Well, for starters she knew that the late night conversations would end. Or at least, she kind of hoped they would. She wasn’t sure why she hoped that, but her knee jerk reaction was to think that. If it happened with Josh the same was sure to happen with Leo. The opposition would already be upset that she was employed there. No doubt once there were whiffs of conversations happening, the Republicans would do everything in their power to drag Leo through the mud. She sighed heavily. This was complicated on so many levels and she could only think about one level at that moment. 

“They would cease as well.” 

Roger regarded her with a surprised yet curious expression. “Why do you say that?” 

“Oh, don’t make me spell it out to you.” 

“Maybe I want you to so I can understand better.” 

Ria huffed and couldn’t resist the little snip, “Maybe I don’t want you to understand.” 

“Ria,” he began, “I already know what you’re going to say.”

She straightened, suddenly ready for battle. Beyond the complication that the Republican party brought to the table, there was the issue of Roger. She loved her interpreter. She did. There was no denying that. She could ask anyone who had seen them work together over the past three years and they would all say that she had affection for him. However, his penchant for being able to read her was sometimes enough to get on her nerves. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, she was ready to shut it down. But this time, she felt her muscles loosen and she sat back in her chair, the wind falling from her sails. 

“What am I going to say,” she asked a touch wary. 

“You want to protect him,” he immediately replied. “You want to protect him. I know you do. Listen, I know you better than anyone. You’re going to say that you being there and talking to him would be political suicide for him. The fact of the matter is, this entire appointment is going to be political suicide for the Bartlet Administration and it has nothing to do with your skills or you as a person and a therapist, but everything to do with who is in power right now.” 

“The Democrats won the presidency,” she grumbled dryly.

“But the Republicans hold the House and the Senate.” 

“So what are you saying? Are you saying I shouldn’t even consider it? Are you saying I should tell President Bartlet thanks, but no thanks?” 

Roger tilted his head, defeat painting his expression. “I think it would be a good idea, yeah.” 

She felt her heart clenching in her chest as he spoke. “I don’t want to.”

“Then why are we even talking about it?” 

Ria’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t sure what Roger was playing at and she couldn’t discern it either. “Roger, what–”

He waved her off. “Go. You’re going to be late for your appointment with Josh.” 

She cursed under her breath and began to gather the things up she had brought into his office. In her haste for answers and a list of reasons why she shouldn’t take up a prominent position in the White House, she’d lost track of time and now was late. Well, later than she wanted to be. Fighting with security and trying to find a parking spot would take up most of her time. She grumbled under her breath as she tried to make sure she grabbed everything she needed. 

From the corner of her eye, she saw Roger waving at her to grab her attention. She turned to face him. 

“For what it’s worth, you’re a lot happier than I’ve ever seen you before. If you think this appointment–if it happens–is going to be good for you, take it. Don’t think about it.” 

Ria’s heart swelled, her lips curving into a wide, warm grin, one that reached her eyes and made them sparkle in the light of the office. She signed a quick thank you as she hurried out of the office. That was all the confirmation she needed, and Roger knew it well. She tried not to dwell on it as she grabbed her briefcase and headed out of the office. The sky threatened snow again as she decided against driving herself. A cab would work nicely, if the driver knew how to navigate Dupont Circle. On second thought…

***

Ria grumbled to herself the entire time she walked through the halls of the White House. A few familiar security guards and a few staffers waved at her as she walked–and she waved back–but they steered clear of speaking to her. She hated being late. It threw her off the whole day and she could already tell that this day was shaping up to be an interesting one. She tried to tell herself that she needed to unscrew her frown, but she could still feel the scowl on her face, her teeth clenched as she checked her watch for at least the third time since she left the office. Ten minutes late. Ten. She flung curses sharply at herself. Stupid traffic. Stupid Dupont Circle. Stupid short cuts that never seemed to work the way they were supposed to. Her eyes narrowed and she barely saw Margaret as she walked toward her. 

“Ria.” When she didn’t answer, Margaret tried again, waving her hand then touching Ria gently on the shoulder when she brushed past the red head. “Ria.” 

She stopped and turned. “Margaret, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” 

“It’s fine. It seems we’re both running late.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Well, it works out for me. I was sent by Leo to meet you.” 

“Me?” 

The redhead nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Leo and the President would like to talk to you.” 

Ria blinked at her as her heart started to pound in her chest. “ Me ?” she repeated. “They want to speak to me?” 

She tried to ignore the amused look on the other woman’s face. “You say that like you’ve never spoken to them before.” 

“No, I know. That’s not it.” 

Margaret lifted an eyebrow. Ria was glad that she didn’t push the matter. They walked in silence to the Oval Office. The entire time, Ria tried to ground herself with something in her purse, but she couldn’t get calmed down. Her mind raced. This was it. This was the moment she knew was coming earlier that morning. This was the moment that she’d been worrying over in her mind for the past two days. She swallowed thickly. The President and the Chief of Staff were going to offer her a job. Her practice was finished. She and Roger were moving from one hard job to an even harder job. Could they handle this? Would this be a good fit? If you think this appointment–if it happens–is going to be good for you, take it. Don’t think about it.

Don’t think about it? Don’t think about it? It was the only thing she could think about at that moment. The words sped through her mind on repeat. Pros and cons darted around in front of her, and she was surprised she even made it down the hall without running into Margaret or one of the other various people walking around the halls. 

By the time they reached the Oval, her heart and stomach were in her throat. She barely noticed Charlie getting up from his desk. She barely noticed when he disappeared through the door to announce her presence. All she could do was stare at the floor as she groped blindly in her purse for some of her ever present cinnamon gum. Margaret tapped her on the shoulder and her head popped up. No gum for her, then.

Charlie sat back at his desk and Leo stood at the door, beckoning them inside. Now or never. She took a breath and stepped forward, not entirely sure she could make it the whole meeting, but she was determined to be strong…and stay fully conscious during it. 

Without thinking, Ria brushed against Leo’s chest as she walked into the Oval. The mixture of that touch and the smell of his expensive cologne bowled her over. Their gazes met briefly. Every single nerve in her body erupted into tingles. Heat spread over her cheeks and down her limbs. The faintest hint of a smile danced across his eyes and his lips. She suddenly felt light headed but she pressed on, gently skimming her fingers over his hand as she passed. Thankfully, the President was focused on something at his desk and he missed the interaction. She praised a God she didn’t believe in. 

“You wanted to see me, Mr. President?” 

He looked up. “Yes! Come on in, Dr. Brewer.” 

“Please, it’s Ria,” she forced a smile, trying to overcompensate for two sets of nerves she felt percolating in her stomach. 

The President briefly looked between her and Leo in suspicious confusion. She tried to ignore the look, but she wondered what had happened to make him look like that. Leo came up to stand beside her. She couldn’t look at him, and she tried not to think of that smile, that little quirk of the lips that felt so different from the smiles he’d given her before. She’d told him that she relied more on body language than others. Maybe he remembered. She couldn’t breathe. 

“Have a seat, Ria.” She did. Leo sat in a chair beside the President. “Leo and I have been talking. You’ve been seeing Josh for about three weeks now, correct?” 

“Yes,” she answered slowly. 

“How has that been going?” 

“Well, Mr. President, I can’t say much–” 

“And I don’t expect you to.” 

She smiled. “Thank you. Anyway, I’d say it’s going well. He’s still fighting me, but that will come with time.” 

“No one said treating him would be easy,” Leo piped up with a smirk. 

“So I’ve been told. Multiple times,” her smile grew and she tried to hide it, but she knew she wasn’t doing a good job of it. 

The President looked between the two of them again. A nervous lump rose in her throat. 

“Well, there’s no point in delaying it. Dr. Aria Brewer, we would like to formally extend a job offer to you. How would you like to be the–” 

“Yes,” she said immediately. 

Both Leo and the President sat there stunned for a moment. 

Leo spoke up first. “Ria, you don’t even know what the job is.” 

“I don’t care. I serve at the pleasure of the President. I want this job.” 

The President shook his head with an amused smile. “You know, you’re probably the first person to ever beat me to the punch when being offered a job.” 

“To be fair,” she began wryly, “you did give me a bit of a warning.” 

“I did?” 

“A couple of days ago, actually.” 

Realization dawned on the President’s face as Leo glared over at him. “You’re right. I did. I guess I shouldn’t have asked you that question.” 

“What question did you ask her, Mr. President?”

He palmed the back of his neck in a small sign of defeat. “I asked her if a mental health consultant would be a good idea. “

Ria waited for him to continue and when he didn’t, she lifted an eyebrow in fond amusement. “That wasn’t all you said, Mr. President.” 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t mention that.” 

Leo’s shoulders slumped and he pinched the bridge of his nose. She suppressed laughter, pursing her lips together as an unceremonious snort issued from her. She didn’t even apologize. The warmth and friendship between the two of them was obvious. The President didn’t even make an effort to hide a chuckle as he began to fiddle with the files on his desk, his gaze still on her. 

“What else did he say?”

“I asked him if I was being considered for the position. He didn’t answer it directly, but I figured it out on my own.” 

Leo shook his head. “This is what I get for trying to be discreet about things.” 

“I don’t think the President can be discreet,” she teased gently.

“Only when it’s in the right context. And don’t you worry, all the proper channels were followed.”

She had no doubt about that. With the Republicans controlling the House and the Senate, the President had to be extra careful about how he handled everything , especially this appointment. She’d been doing a lot of research in her free time since the President spoke to her two days prior. She had so much information in her mind about process and appointments and other things, she couldn’t believe she functioned with everything else. She didn’t know where she managed to put all the information and how she managed to hold onto it all. 

“I didn’t think it hadn’t, Mr. President.” 

“Good. I’m glad I can at least impress you a little bit. Now, can I finish what I needed to say before you interrupted me?” 

She laughed, unable to quell the excitement building inside of her. She was fairly certain she’d have to unscrew her smile at the end of the day. 

“Yes, of course,” she both said and signed. 

“In that case, Dr. Brewer, would you like to be my special senior consultant on mental health and accessibility?” 

“I think you already know the answer to that question.” 

The President nodded, smiling crookedly. “Welcome to the administration, Dr. Brewer.” 

She felt over the moon. Nothing could bring her down from this moment. She would remember this moment for the rest of her life. Everything she studied in school with Jack, everything she did in her practice, everything she’d been doing with Josh in the few weeks they’d been meeting together–and the meetings with Leo–had been leading to this exact moment. She felt elated and overwhelmed. Her heart pounded. Her ears rang. Her cheeks hurt. She’s sure she looked like a complete and total fool. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for a meeting on the Hill and they all hate when I’m late.” 

“Yes, of course, sir.” She stood up from her chair, briefcase clutched tightly in her hands to keep them from shaking. 

“I’ll see you at the senior staff meeting tomorrow?” 

“So soon?” She asked, startled. 

“If you can swing it. We’re not asking you to move in completely yet. We still need to get you a proper desk and a proper place to get settled.” 

“I can borrow a corner of the world until then. I don’t take up a lot of room.” 

“Excellent. In that case, we’ll get it set up. You can let Leo know what you need and we’ll get you ready. Now, I really need to go listen to people complain about things I can’t fix.” 

“Yes, sir, Mr. President.”

He gathered his files and briefcase, she and Leo trailing after him. The three exchanged pleasantries before the President disappeared down the hall with Charlie. Without the President, Leo motioned her back into his office with that same infuriatingly confusing smile on his face, the same one he wore as she brushed against him in the Oval. The one he couldn’t read to save her life. Why was he so difficult to read, and why did she like it so much?

She tried not to think about that as she followed him back to her office. She immediately sat down on the other side of his desk, if only to steady herself a little bit before she fell over. All the excitement in her body–while still there–seemed to leave her body all at once. Her hands shook but she just held onto her briefcase tighter. 

“I’m assuming you’ll want to share an office or a space with Roger?” Leo asked as he sat behind his desk. 

“That would be ideal, yes. And of course, I don’t need a phone. Unless you can get a TTY relay. If you can do that, that would work as well.” 

“We’ll make sure everything is accessible for you.” 

“Thank you,” she signed and said with a smile. “Oh, by the way, I am having a service dog trained. She should be ready around June.” 

He grinned fondly. Her heart skipped a beat. 

“We’ll afford her the highest clearance we can.” 

She giggled, trying not to think about how she must look. Doctor, get it together, she urged herself. She wasn’t a love sick idiot. She wasn’t even looking for love. She didn’t want it. But she couldn’t help the way she felt around him, even if they were talking about dark things. Something about him just lit her up, filled the gaps in her heart. But she didn’t want to fall in love. She didn’t have the strength to open herself up to that again. Not even with him. 

Ria had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Why was she even thinking about that? She had other things to worry about, chief among them the fact she’d just been offered a job and she had a lot to do before she could fully focus on working at the White House. She needed to get rid of her clients and close her practice. She’d have to talk to her landlord and try to get out of her lease. She needed to email Brenda about Cocoa. She mentally made a checklist of things she needed to do despite the fact she was sitting across from the White House Chief of Staff. 

She needed to stop doing that. 

“Thank you, Leo. I appreciate that.” 

“Of course.” His gaze held hers and she felt liquid warmth spread through her. “Do you still have your appointment with Josh this afternoon?”

A curse fell easily from her lips. “I am supposed to, but I’m very late now. You know he won’t be waiting around for me. He’ll use any excuse to get out of the appointment.” 

“I’ll have Donna pencil you in tomorrow after the staff meeting.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he began as he stood from his desk–she followed suit, “I have a meeting to attend.”

“Yes, sir.” He began to gather up papers and files as she turned to leave. Suddenly, a thought struck her, and she turned back around. “Leo?” His gaze rose to meet hers in silent acknowledgement. “Do you want to see me tonight?” She tried not to think about how that sounded like an innuendo. 

His eyes softened, his head tilting to the side to regard her. It took all of her willpower to not squirm under that gaze. Get. It. Together.

“I’ll give you a break tonight. Get some rest. You’re going to need it.” 

She nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Ria left the office and walked down the hall, her whole body tingling, as thoughts of the next day and all she needed to do swam across her mind again. Then she remembered that damned smile and she melted all over again. 

Chapter Text

January 29, 2001

He felt stupid. 

Not only did he feel stupid, he felt inept and shaky and he hated the feeling from the bottom of his heart. He didn’t know why he was at that flower shop. He didn’t even know what Ria’s favorite flower was. He could take a guess, and he could probably just get her a bouquet of random flowers–not roses, that was far too romantic and he wasn’t sure what kind of message that would send–but he wanted it to be special. First days were important. He knew that. And this was the most important first day of her life. 

Leo took a breath, surveying the flowers laid out in front of him. Being Chief of Staff had its perks. One of which included making calls early in the morning to obscure flower shops so he could shop in private and be on time to work. Despite the call and the fact he stood there in front of the shopkeeper, he knew the woman standing in front of him was getting antsy. She shifted back and forth on the balls of her feet waiting for him to make a decision. Without even properly looking at her, he knew that antsy exasperation. He knew it well. 

In the end, he settled on a bouquet of daisies, expertly coordinated with multiple colors, the stems nestled in a simple vase with a colorful ribbon wrapped around it. He debated for a few moments on the merits of calling a staffer to come pick up and deliver the flowers, but thought better of it as the florist put the final touches on the bouquet. Something inside him drove him to want to do this himself. The day was special. He kept telling himself that. Over and over again as he waited. He hoped the office wouldn’t be crowded when he finally came in. 

When the florist finished, Leo reached for the offered vase, quickly and quietly leaving the shop to climb into his waiting car. The entire drive to the White House he felt the nerves buzzing in his stomach. At a stoplight, he fished for his cellphone and fiddled with it. He could call the President and come in through a different entrance. No, he wouldn’t do that. He’d come in the regular entrance. If anyone asked, he’d say it was for Mallory. That was the logical answer, lie or not. 

He pocketed the cellphone as they pulled up at the staff entrance. He could just imagine the looks he’d get, but he bucked up the courage and went inside, swiping his card and heading to the office. The hallways were blessedly quiet as he wound his way toward the Oval. What he wasn’t expecting when he rounded the corner was Margaret in his office, getting things ready for the staff meeting. 

“Margaret,” he growled out through a sigh. 

“Yes, Leo?” She looked up, startled, pausing in her distribution of files as she surveyed the flowers. “Leo…”

“Don’t.” 

“Yes, sir.”

He sat the vase on top of his file cabinet. 

“Are those for–”

“Mallory? Yes.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “That wasn’t who I was going to say, Leo.” 

Now it was Leo’s turn to be startled. Was he that obvious? Jesus Christ. He tried to ignore the pounding in his chest.

“I swear to God, Margaret, if you say who I think you’re going to say….” 

Her eyes widened. “Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. I wasn’t going to say a word.” 

She hastily finished her preparations and scurried out of the office to her desk. The tension eased from his shoulders when the door shut with a soft click behind her. Rolling his neck, he pulled his coat and scarf off, regarding the vase of flowers on his file cabinet. If those sat there during the senior staff meeting, he knew a rumor would spread so fast between his staff, no matter if he said they were for Mallory or not. A sigh tore through his lips. He checked his watch, grabbed the vase and headed into the Oval. 

“Leo, surely those flowers aren’t for me. You know I don’t particularly care much for daisies,” the President’s raucous voice came from his desk. Leo could curse.

“Mr. President…” he trailed off, his unspoken warning hanging in the air. 

“Okay. Alright. I won’t say a word.” 

“Thank you, sir.” He sat the flowers on a side table to be less conspicuous. 

“Only I am going to ask–” 

“Mr. President–

“--are those for who I think they are?” 

Leo’s shoulders slumped. “Am I that obvious?” 

“It depends on why you bought the flowers,” Jed countered with a smirk, whipping off his glasses and pocketing them in his suit jacket. “And I can only guess who you got them for and why they’re currently sitting in my office.”

“It’s her first day,” Leo said simply in reply. 

“Yes, it is, and I know you want to make a good first impression.” 

The Chief of Staff smirked a bit to himself, holding back a laugh. “I think I’ve already accomplished that.” 

The President regarded his friend curiously, but Leo didn’t give anything anyway. Jed knew he’d been speaking to Ria in the evenings, even when Josh didn’t have an appointment. They were like moths to a flame. The longer Leo sat there with that realization, the more he felt panic and worry rising in his body. He’d been married for over twenty five years. The last time he dated anyone, he’d been a toothpick with ears, something he was fully aware of as his gaze settled on the bouquet of daisies. Despite that, though, he still felt a surge of happiness at the realization that his statement was correct. He knew from the bottom of his heart they’d had a good first impression with each other. 

“You know I believe that. Because I see the way she looks at you and I see the way you look at her.” 

He waved his friend off. “We’re friendly. She’s been a good ear.” 

“She wants to be a good something else, too.” 

“Don’t you have meetings to go to this morning? Something about the budget for the year or something?” 

“Not this morning. You really need to keep up with my schedule a bit better.” 

Leo rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” 

“Don’t you have a senior staff meeting this morning? And isn’t that why my office is now adorned with flowers?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Never. I watched you court Jenny. I can’t wait to see you court our dear Dr. Brewer.” 

“I swear to god, Mr. President–”

Jed held his hands up in surrender, a smile stretched wide over his lips. “I won’t say a word.” 

“I’m not courting her.” 

“Says the man carrying daisies into the White House under the cloak of morning.” That smile easily morphed into a knowing smirk. Had Leo known Jed would be in the Oval this morning, he would’ve never brought them in there. “All teasing aside, Leo, you know that whatever you choose to do, Abbey and I will be with you wholeheartedly. You deserve this.” 

All Leo could do was stare at him. He really was that obvious and now he wondered who else might have picked up on his quiet infatuation with the incoming mental health consultant. Margaret for sure now that she’d caught him with flowers. Since Jed mentioned Abbey, he imagined she knew as well. The question quickly became, could Margaret keep it a secret? He knew the kind of gossip she spread sometimes between the assistants. He wondered if she would gossip with Ria’s interpreter, Roger, or if she would gossip with Ria herself. He didn’t know until the weeks and months progressed. He couldn’t say he was looking forward to it. 

“I highly doubt Abbey knows anything’s going on.” 

“Oh believe me, Casanova, she knows. She knew the moment you came up to the residence a couple of weeks ago.” 

“Christ…” he trailed off, rubbing his temples. 

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are.” 

Leo cursed to himself quietly, hoping that Jed couldn’t hear it, but the expression the President wore let him know that he’d heard just fine. This couldn’t get any worse, and the staff meeting was about to begin if his watch was to be believed. 

“They’re just flowers. Leave it alone.” 

Another sign of surrender from Jed. “Consider it dropped.” 

“Thank you,” he began, pausing a moment as he gathered himself, “keep them safe for me, would ya? The flowers, I mean.” 

Jed mock saluted. “Aye, captain. They won’t leave my sight.” 

He rolled his eyes, feeling his patience already thinning. “Right. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to go to my staff meeting. Why don’t you govern a country or whatever it is you do?” 

“I am burdened with glorious purpose.”

“Now you’re just pushing my buttons,” Leo said as he headed back into his office. 

Toby and CJ were already sitting down on the sofa next to each other. He wondered if they knew just how close they were sitting together and just how obvious it was. Apparently he wasn’t the only obvious one on the staff. Now if only he could get Donna and Josh to admit whatever they needed to admit to get together. That felt like an insurmountable feat. He thought about that as Donna and Josh came walking in together, bickering about something or another that he didn’t care about, but it amused him. They really were a mess, and they were blind. Very blind. 

Roger and Ria came in last, the both of them trying to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible. He tried not to stare too long at Ria. She took his breath away. Her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders in loose curls, bright and golden against the deep red turtleneck she currently wore. He fiddled with the folders on his desk, trying to look busy as everyone took their respective seats. 

When they all settled, Leo looked up, pointedly ignoring Ria and Roger at the back of the room. 

“Morning everyone.” Everyone echoed their greetings, some saying those words while drinking coffee. “First thing’s first, Sam, Toby, how is the speech coming along?” 

“The speech is…” Sam trailed off, deferring to Toby. 

“The speech is going well. We have a draft we’re going to present to the President.” 

“Toby,” Leo began warningly. 

“It’s drafted,” the communication’s director tapped his temple, “up here.” 

“That’s not where we need it.” 

“And when we’re finished, we’ll get it to you and the President for approval.” 

Leo lifted an eyebrow and turned to Sam. “Sam, you and Toby work on the State of the Union until I have a draft in my hand, okay?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Leo–”

“Let me get through this Josh, before you ask questions.” 

“Yeah, but why–”

He stared pointedly at his deputy and that seemed to shut him up. He swore he could feel every single pair of eyes staring back at him. It made him feel two inches tall, but he tried hard not to let it show. The moment he gave up control of the room, he’d never get it back. 

“Leo, he’s asking about the lovely young woman and her interpreter standing at the back of the room.” 

The staff who were sitting all stood with a ripple of “good morning, Mr. President.” He shot a look at the President who waved down his staff. They sat down in their respective seats, all eyes–including Ria and Roger’s–on Jed as he stood in the doorway between Leo’s office and the Oval. It took everything in Leo not to say something fierce and unneeded to his friend. He remained quiet, eyes narrowed at the President as he shoved his hands in his pockets, looking pleased as punch with the interruption. 

“I know who they are. I want to know why they’re here at senior staff,” Josh piped up, disdain dripping from his tone. 

“Are you going to tell him, Leo, or should I?” 

The Chief of Staff bristled, fiddling with the papers on his desk to hide his displeasure, but he didn’t feel he was doing a good job of it. “Everyone, this is Dr. Aria Brewer and Dr. Roger Collins. They began at ATVA and now Ria is our senior consultant on accessibility and mental health.” 

“Since when?” Josh exclaimed, his voice pitching higher with anger. 

Leo leveled his gaze at his deputy. “Since Friday.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell us about this?” 

“You were integral in the decision making process.” 

“Yeah, right. How ?” 

“Josh–” The President began, a warning edge to his tone. 

“No, I want to know how I was integral in the decision without even being consulted. Was this just a set up? Was Stanley in on this?” 

“Dr. Keyworth suggested her and that’s all he did,” Leo snapped in frustration. 

Josh looked around at Toby, Sam, and CJ. “And you all knew about this and didn’t tell me?” 

“I didn’t know about it,” Sam said, his hands raised in surrender. 

“Toby–” 

“It is a good appointment, Josh,” Toby murmured lowly. Leo noticed and appreciated the attempt at keeping the peace and keeping his voice even and calm, even though he knew the communications director was just as mad about the situation as Josh was. “It means we’re toughening our stance on the things that matter. We’re taking care of our staff in the aftermath and we’re going to raise the profile on disability and prove that those with disabilities are just as equal to the task as those who are able bodied.” 

Josh turned to CJ. Leo saw the desperation in his deputy’s eyes. He wanted someone to back him up on this and Leo knew it wasn’t going to happen. He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest. 

“CJ–”

“I agree with Toby. Why shouldn’t we have someone in our midst to talk to about things? It’ll make things easier if something like this happens again.” 

“You all ganged up on me.” 

“Josh–” The President began, but Josh continued, cutting him off. 

“I out rank three out of six of you and was the one who got shot in the chest and you all ganged up on me. Making decisions without consulting me–”

“That’s enough, Josh,” Ria said firmly. “That’s enough.” 

The tension in Leo’s office could be cut with a knife. He could’ve stopped the barrage but chose not to. Letting his deputy rage against the perceived injustice with the cause of said injustice in the same room with him probably wasn’t the best idea, but, then again, he didn’t expect Josh to react like that. Nor did the President, or he probably wouldn’t have made an appearance at the meeting. He could blame Jed all he wanted for the direction the meeting took, but he wouldn't. Maybe it was better this way. Josh could safely tread the warpath in this office. Out of it, was where the problems began. Leo had an inkling that Josh knew that full well. 

“You’ll forgive me for not taking orders from you, Dr. Brewer.” 

“I’m not giving you an order, Josh,” she spoke calmly, coolly, keeping herself level headed under pressure. Leo tried not to look impressed. “I’m not. I want to do my job to the best of my ability, and being out of the office makes it harder for me to do so. The President knew that and so did Leo.” Her gaze settled on him briefly before returning to his deputy. “We’re just trying to help you.” 

Josh rubbed the corner of his eye. Leo watched as he took one deep breath, then two, in an effort to calm himself. He had no doubt now, and he wondered if the President felt the same. They made the best choice with Ria. This proved it, and, despite the situation, he felt a surge of relief spread through him. 

“CJ,” he began as the tension simmered, “prepare a statement for the press on the appointment. Leave Josh’s name out of it and if they ask questions–” 

“Throw them off the scent?” It was more a statement than a question. He nodded. “And if they don’t take the bait?” 

“Tell ‘em to shut the hell up or change the topic.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“That’s all for today.” They all began gathering their things and preparing to leave. “And Josh?” They stopped, all eyes on Leo. “Take it easy today. Work with Sam and Toby on the speech. Have Donna move all your meetings to tomorrow.” 

“Leo…” Ria trailed off. All she had to do was say his name and he understood his mistake. 

“Well, have Donna move all your meetings but the one you have with Ria.” 

Josh looked ready to protest, but instead of doing so, all he said was, “Yes, sir.” 

They all trickled from the office slowly, everyone but Josh stopping by Ria and Roger to greet them and exchange congratulations and pleasantries. He tried not to pay attention to the uncertainty in their tones of voice. Even though Ria couldn’t hear it, he wondered if she could see it in their body languages. He felt bad for her, but she took it in stride as Sam was the last to leave. 

“Ria,” he said softly, just loud enough for Roger to hear and stop her with a hand on her shoulder, “can you stick around for a moment?” 

She nodded and signed something to Roger who took his leave, leaving Leo, Ria, and the President in the office. Leo walked closer to the President so she could see both of them easier as they spoke.

“Dr. Brewer–”

“It’s Ria, please, Mr. President.” 

“Ria, I apologize for–” 

She held up a hand. “Mr. President, please. I knew that would be the outcome of him finding out. I’d rather the blow up be here than out there where the story could leak.” 

“My thoughts exactly,” Leo said, shooting a look between her and Jed.

“So, please, don’t apologize.” 

The President nodded with a small smile. “We’re still glad you’re here, Ria. I think you’re going to fit in very well here.” 

She beamed brightly. “Thank you, Mr. President.” 

He waved her off. “Don’t thank me just yet. It’s not an easy job. You’ll work long hours, not get things you want, struggle to get things done. But it’s a rewarding job.”

“Do you believe that, sir?”

Leo turned to hide his expression, opting instead to disappear into the Oval to grab her flowers. He listened to their conversation from the other room, trying to keep himself from chuckling but failing as he picked up the vase. The daisies smelled like the florist shop, fresh and almost like the perfume he swore he smelled when she came to visit him that first day. He took a breath to steel himself, as he heard the President finish up their conversation. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting. You know I think Leo has something to give you.” 

She lifted an eyebrow. “Something to give me ?”

“He could’ve sent an aide to do it, but he didn’t, and so I’m giving him kudos where kudos are deserved.” 

“Kudos? Mr. President, with all due respect, you’re not making much sense.” 

The President turned then, motioning to Leo who stood awkwardly in the breezeway between the Oval and his own office, holding that vase of flowers and still feeling like an absolute idiot. 

“I’ll leave you two alone.” 

“Thank you, Mr. President.” 

Jed left, shutting the door to the Oval, leaving Leo and Ria standing there together in his office. He felt less stupid with just the two of them, but his anxiety still buzzed in his stomach, his heart racing. He sat the vase down on the table near his sofa, a small smile on his lips. 

“I thought you would like some flowers for your new desk.” 

“They’re really for me?” She asked. He tried to ignore the way her entire face brightened up, eyes shining. Christ, she looked beautiful like that. 

"They are . I didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked. So, I took a chance and got you daisies.” 

He held them out to her and she took them gingerly, bringing them up to smell them with a wide smile. “Thank you, Leo. They’re beautiful.” 

“You’re welcome.” He paused, watching her for a moment before he continued, “I should probably let you get moved in. I think we’re putting you somewhere temporarily. Somewhere near Josh.” 

She let out a relieved breath. “I’m glad you didn’t put me in the basement. I know you have offices down there.” 

He tilted his head. “Are you–” 

“I’m claustrophobic,” she said immediately, sheepishly. 

“I didn’t know.” 

“I don’t usually tell people. I just deal with it. Roger helps, too.” 

“Right, of course. He helps a lot, doesn’t he?” 

She chuckled softly, nodding her head. “As I’ve said before, he’s been my savior.” 

Jealousy spiked through him and he tried to tamp it down. A frown worked its way across his features before he could stop it. Odd , he thought to himself as he turned away to hide his face. The reaction surprised him. He expected a lot of things, but he didn’t expect that . 

“They’re good to have. Or so I’ve been told.”

Her eyes narrowed curiously and he wondered if she noticed the frown and the green monster jealousy written all over his body.

“Leo?” Her voice murmured almost tenderly. 

He turned to face her before he realized. “Oh. Sorry. It was nothing.” He picked up the flowers and handed them gingerly over to her, making sure the flowers weren’t in his way when he spoke again. “Welcome to the staff. We’re really glad you’re here.” 

Ria took the outstretched flowers from him with a bright smile, that same bright smile she wore earlier. She cradled the vase in both arms, hugging the glass to her chest to protect it, the flowers brushing against her cheek. He thought he would like to take a picture of her like that, but he knew his skills with the camera weren’t good enough. Jenny always took pictures of Mallory when she was growing up. Not him. He knew they would never have turned out if he tried. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” He paused, then continued. “Let me show you to your desk.” She hesitated. “Do you think it’s a bad idea?” 

“With me carrying flowers? Probably.” 

“You can leave them in here and I can get a courier to bring them to you.” 

She let out a relieved smile. “Thank you.” She took a long whiff of the flowers then set them down on the table behind her. “Lead the way.” 

He opened the door for her, almost settling his hand on the small of her back but stopping just short of touching her. The warmth of her body lingered on his hand as he flexed it and shoved it into his pocket to hide it. He hoped she didn’t see the movement as he led her down the hall. He tried to ignore the staffers and assistants’ gazes on them together, and he wondered if they would say anything. He could hear the gossip now. Anxiety percolated in his stomach and he tried not to let it show. 

“How did the Republican leadership take it?” 

Leo turned to face her. “I’m sorry?” 

Another fond smile. Butterflies replaced the anxiety. “Republican leadership. How did they handle my appointment?”

“Surprisingly well. Mary Marsh is going to have a field day, and I’m sure Hutchinson, McClusky,  and Shallick will complain later, but what’s done is done.” 

Her brows narrowed. “What was that third name?” 

For a moment, he didn’t exactly know what to do. “What would be easier for you?” 

“Can you spell it for me?” She asked curiously. 

“M-c-c-l-u-s-k-y.” 

“McClusky? Okay.” She grinned, paused for a moment, then continued, “Want me to show you something?” 

He nodded. Of course, he did. He wanted her to show him everything. 

Ria pulled them to the side of the hallway, that same beautiful smile on her face that made him question everything he told himself when he got divorced. He couldn’t deny it now, no matter how much he wanted to. This appointment was personal, and he couldn’t change that. What’s done is done, as he’d told her. 

She lifted her hand and began to sign each letter of McClusky’s name, slowly, eyes shining in the dim light of the hallway.

When she was finished, her smile grew wider and she motioned to him, “Now you try it.” 

He pointed to himself. “Me? I don’t–”

“It’s easy,” she cut him off, voice kind and soft, “just follow my lead.”

Leo stood there for a long moment, that feeling of uncertainty creeping into his chest, but he didn’t let it show outwardly as he lifted his hand and followed her lead. Save for a mess up on the letter ‘k’, which she quickly helped him fix, he fingerspelled rather well, he thought. If the way she seemed to continue to brighten up with each passing letter was anything to go by. By the end of the name, he was grinning, as well. 

“See? You’ll be a pro in no time.”

“I don’t know about that.” 

The smile slipped a little. “How do you know without trying?” 

He paused. She had a point. 

“Are you offering to teach me?” 

She ducked her head, her cheeks coloring pink. “Maybe.” 

“Well,” he began, jerking his thumb over his shoulder as he spoke, “I can just go ask Roger if he wants to–” 

“I’m kidding!” She interjected through a laugh. “Of course, I’d like to teach you.” 

They began to walk again, toward the fishbowl where the staffers were less inclined to stare, occupied instead with various miscellany regarding their jobs. He almost breathed a sigh of relief. Almost because he knew that Josh would throw another fit when he realized how close Leo intended to situate her and Roger to him. But Leo would cross that bridge when he came to it. 

Finally, after winding through the halls and passing Donna–who was locked in conversation with Roger–he came to an office, large enough for two desks and various other milieu, and with a window. The blinds were pulled open, letting in a bright stream of light on the one desk currently situated inside. 

“We’ll get you another desk in here for Roger. Feel free to decorate what you can with what you want. Personal items and the like. Make it comfortable for you.” 

Ria looked around, appraising the room with what looked like a happy expression. “This is perfect, Leo. Thank you.” 

He nodded. “You’re welcome.” He turned to leave, but stopped, turning to face her again. “Will I see you tonight?”

Her stance softened, her face taking on an unreadable expression that he couldn’t put his finger on but it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. “You will.” 

“I’ll have someone bring the flowers.” 

“Thank you, Leo.” 

He nodded again. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you around.” 

Ria sat down behind the desk, running her hands over the wood reverently. “I look forward to it.” 

He lingered there for a long moment, watching her, before he took off down the hallway, trying to put up the ever present mask again so no one could see right through him.

Chapter Text

At the end of the day, after the light had long since waned and the clock read far past midnight, her arms ached and, inexplicably, so did the back of her thighs. It had been nearly five years since she’d moved things around and carried boxes of personal belongings from one place to another. At that time, she couldn’t remember moving ever being this painful. Or at least, she didn’t remember her thighs ever hurting from moving boxes around. Maybe she just hadn’t eaten enough. If she told Roger about her aches and pains, she knew he’d mention something about food. At the back of her mind, she wondered if future conversations would go down that same path. 

The thought struck her as odd as she put the finishing touches on her desk in her new office. Stepping back to assess the furniture, she felt something was missing. After Leo had shown her the new space, she immediately went back to the office, told Roger what had happened and immediately went home to bring some things to put on half the wall space and her desk. Waiting for her when she got back were Leo’s gorgeous flowers and she hadn’t stopped smiling since. Under the flowers, stood a small mall photo booth picture, framed in a tiny frame, of her and Jack. A frown tugged at her lips. Reaching forward, she moved the frame next to her computer. No point in mixing the old and the new. 

She blinked, rubbed her eyes tiredly, and walked out of the room, hoping to leave the intrusive thoughts behind. As she wound through the hallways, this time as an employee of the administration and no longer a simple visitor, she felt…off-kilter, all at once elated and melancholy. Elated to be working there. Depressed that she couldn’t tell Jack about it. Elated about Leo and the daisies he gave her. Depressed that they weren’t from Jack…and would never be from him again. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. So much for the intrusive thoughts staying behind in her office. She tried to ignore them. 

From the corner of her gaze she saw Margaret walking down the hall, her hair pulled up, gaze intent, a blue folder tucked up under her arm. 

“Margaret!” 

She turned, face breaking into a smile as she motioned for Ria to catch up, which she did. “I’m just heading back to the office. Want to follow me?” 

“Sure.” 

They headed down the hall, Margaret’s countenance much more relaxed and at ease now. Ria wondered about that as they walked quietly together. 

“I have to ask,” the redhead began suddenly, hand pressed to Ria’s arm to draw her attention, “were those daisies for you?” 

The blonde paused, debated for a moment too long, then murmured, “I don’t think I want to answer that.” 

The secretary smiled knowingly, an expression that made Ria’s eyes narrow a bit. “You know I won’t say anything.” 

She lifted an eyebrow. “I know.” 

“So…?” 

Ria laughed through a heavy sigh, shaking her head as she walked ahead, refusing to answer the question. 

When she made it to Leo’s door, Margaret finally caught up with her. She felt a hand on her arm again and turned to face the other woman. 

“You can go in.” 

Ria didn’t wait. She knocked gently, pushing the heavy wooden door open and sticking her head in as she called out, “Leo?” 

At his desk, Leo looked up. Those beautiful eyes met hers as he took off his glasses and pushed his chair away from in front of his computer. 

“Come in, Ria.” 

“I hope I’m not intruding,” she said as she pushed inside his office, making sure the door was shut behind her. 

He shook his head. “Not at all.” 

He motioned for her to have a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he cleaned up the disarray in front of him. She filed the action away in her mind. Fastidious. Studious. Workaholic. The latter she already knew. Consequences of the hand life dealt him. Something she knew all too well. 

Despite the invitation to sit in the office chairs, she decided to choose the sofa against the wall to her left. One of the intrusive thoughts she’d had earlier in the day at the staff meeting included wondering how comfortable that sofa truly was and whether he’d picked it out for his office himself or if it had been picked from some generic shop for him. The latter didn’t seem possible for him, not after seeing his various designer suits and expensive silk ties. And, of course, the sofa didn’t disappoint, not that she gave away her comfort. She just sat there, crossing one leg over the other, watching him, waiting for his reaction to her. 

He simply lifted an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Comfortable?” 

“I’ve wanted to sit on this sofa since the staff meeting this morning.” 

There went her desire to keep her reaction underwraps. He shook his head with a smile and joined her in the chair closest to where she’d perched herself. 

“You’ve sat on the sofa before, haven’t you?” 

“Nope,” she began with a smile, “just in the chairs.” 

“And you really thought the chairs would be comfortable but not the sofa?”

“I don’t know what I thought.” 

The corners of his lips lifted in a small, cheeky grin. “Are we really talking about sofas and chairs right now?” 

Ria shrugged. “Yes, I think we are.”

“I suppose I’ve talked about stranger things than that before.”

Another shrug. “I know I have.”

Their short conversation lulled for a moment as her gaze settled fully on him, mapping his weathered face and committing it to memory. 

“Did you get moved in okay?” 

She nodded. “I still have a few things to move and a lot to do at the practice, but it’s coming along.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He paused, his own eyes raking over her. She shifted in her seat, swallowing thickly and trying not to let it show just how much his own gaze seemed to affect her. This was getting ridiculous. “The flowers got to you okay?” 

She nodded again. “They did. They’re on my desk already.” She tried not to dwell on the fact that this conversation felt like the most stilted conversation they’d ever had. A frown tugged at her lips. 

“Is there something wrong?” 

“Hmm?” It took a moment for her brain to catch up with her. “Oh, no. Nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking about something.” 

“I’m not going to ask what you were thinking.” 

“It wasn’t anything bad. I just…” she trailed off, trying to figure out how to word her next question, but instead of anything eloquent, she just blurts out, “how did you know my favorite flowers were daisies? That kind of thing isn’t in my FBI file, is it?” 

For a brief moment, his brows furrowed but then he began to laugh, shoulders shaking. “No, that’s not in your FBI file.” 

“I didn’t think so,” she said, also through a laugh, butterflies flapping in her stomach, “but I thought I would ask.” 

“There are no stupid questions here.” 

“Are you sure about that?” she teased. 

“Honestly? Not really.” 

“Now that I find hard to believe.”

His eyes narrow, but his lips still curved in a slight grin. “What are you saying, Dr. Brewer?” 

Ria attempted to feign innocence, but she didn’t know how well she accomplished it. “I’m not saying anything.” 

“Right. I don’t believe you.” 

“That’s your prerogative, Mr. McGarry.” 

She beamed, eyes shining brightly in the dim light of his office. There was the man she’d caught a glimpse of earlier. The man who kept himself behind layers of masks. The one who seemed to be both sure and unsure at the same time. The one who could tease with the best of them but be serious when he needed to. A thought she’d had when they first met and talked properly flitted back across her mind: he doesn’t smile enough. Tendrils of sadness snake through her, but her smile never faltered. 

And, just because her filter seemed to be broken that evening, she finally just uttered, “You don’t smile a lot, do you?” 

His body stiffened. “I’m not going to answer that.” 

Ria didn’t react, stifling down her emotions at the somewhat sharp reply. “You know I don’t ask you those kinds of questions to make you upset.” 

His body seemed to relax minutely. “I know you don’t.” 

“And every single time I talk to you is not an invitation for therapy.” 

“I know that, too.” 

She tilts her head and surveys him curiously. “Do you really?” Then she realized what she even asked, the filter on her mouth giving her troubles and she didn’t want this evening to end up like it had before. “You don’t have to answer that.” 

But he shook his head, body finally relaxed, stance open and, she assumed, honest. “No, I want to. You’re so used to talking to people who are far more open than I am. I know it could be strange, encountering me.” 

“You’d be surprised at how many people I talk to who aren’t open. But you’re already better than you think you are.” 

A self-deprecating smirk stretched across his lips. “Now you’re pulling my leg.” 

“No, you’re tall enough. I don’t need to do that,” she laughed and playfully winked. 

“Maybe, maybe not.” 

“Oh, shush. But I am being serious.” 

Leo sat quietly for a long moment. “Tell me how.” 

She lifted an eyebrow, peering at him again, trying to read him but struggling for a moment. “Tell you how?” 

“Yes. Tell me how I’m better than I think I am.” 

She sat back in her chair, fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she considered the question, her gaze still holding his steadily. “Haven’t I already told you?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if you have,” he volleyed with a chuckle. 

Ria shot him a fond look, not even hiding the emotion she knew clearly radiated from her. “I’ve told you I rely on reading body language.” 

“Yes, you have. Are you telling me my body language is saying I’m open and honest with you?” 

She smirked. “Yes.” 

He sat there for a long moment, mulling that little tidbit of information. She wasn’t sure about admitting that so readily, especially to a man who lived his life so closed off. But the admission sat there, pregnant and meaningful in the silence ebbing between them. She worried that the admission would make him harder to read, that he would close himself off to her. She hoped that wouldn’t be the case. She wanted to pry into his world, work her fingers under the rough edges and lift off the tattered mask to see who he was underneath. She craved it. She wanted it so much she could almost taste it, sweet and bitter and full of longing. 

Her heart fluttered, the beating quicker than a hummingbird’s wing. She could scarcely breathe. 

“All the time?” 

She tried to calm herself as she shook her head. “No, not all the time.” 

Again, he sat with that admission for far longer than she felt comfortable with, the beating of her heart slowly beginning to percolate into anxiety, settling sickly in her stomach. 

For once, she didn’t reach for a piece of gum, just let it linger, burning the back of her tongue sharply. 

“Good. It means I still have my secrets.” 

“Yes, and remember, we’re affording each other our secrets.” 

“As our jobs dictate.”

Another silence lapsed over them and she sat there, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, gaze almost boring into him. 

“But beyond our jobs?” 

She barely managed to force that question out, trying to sound as nonchalant as she possibly could. Her stomach rolled dangerously, but if this–whatever this was–was going to move forward or stop where it currently stood, she needed to know. 

Leo regarded her closely. “Ria Brewer…are you asking what I think you are?” 

She lifted an eyebrow, rolling with the question rather confidently. “I think it depends.” 

“Good to know,” he said through a light chuckle. 

The tension in the room broke, and for a moment, she felt relief spread through her as she sat back on the couch, draping herself over the cushions, making herself even more comfortable. 

“I have a question,” she asked suddenly. He motioned for her to continue. “When you found out…about me, what went through your mind?” 

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” 

“Did you expect me to admit that I was an addict?” 

He remained silent for a while, still regarding her like he always did. “You hid it well.” 

“Meaning my FBI file didn’t say anything?” She teased. 

“Yes, exactly.” 

She laughed. “It means I still have some secrets, too.” 

“Not anymore. You’ve told me.” 

“Yeah, but I think you can keep a secret.” 

“I can keep many at a time.” 

“Alright, show off,” she teased, again, through a smirk. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

She lifted an eyebrow before ducking her head, trying not to laugh and hiding her smile. “It’s not.” 

Ria suddenly felt the sofa sag under his weight, his warm, broad hands gently encircling her ankles as he moved her legs to sit down, her feet settling in his lap once he got comfortable. The simple move made her head shoot up, brows furrowing as she regarded him closely but she didn’t protest. She tried to ignore the way her heart pounded as she watched him. In the back of her mind she wondered, did he always do things like this? The answer she came up with was no , not when the President or any number of staffers could walk into the office and see them. But maybe after midnight, he didn’t care too much. 

After a moment, he gently tapped her leg and she turned to face him.

“Is this okay?” 

Her cheeks tinged pink and she tried not to smile again. “Yes.” 

He sat quietly for a long moment before he spoke again. “The State of the Union is coming up. Usually there’s a reception afterward. Would you like to get coffee after?” 

“I don’t drink coffee after noon.” 

“That’ll change once you start working here,” he teased. 

“Maybe,” she began coyly, “Maybe not.” 

Leo shook his head. “What do you do after noon, then?” 

“Well, you and I both don’t do alcohol.” She tapped her chin, ignoring the brief surprise on his face. “Would ice cream be too old fashioned?” 

He burst into laughter. “Maybe, but I did start dating in the sixties.” 

“Yeah,” she teased, “and I am an old soul.” 

“Then in that case, I guess we’ll find a place that sells ice cream and milkshakes late.” 

“I can always make them at home,” she said nonchalantly, not even thinking about the implications of those words. 

“Milkshakes and I get to see your apartment? Isn’t that moving a little too fast?” 

Her eyes widened, realizing. “Oh! Mr. McGarry, I–” 

Leo laughed, laying a hand gently on her arm. “Ria, I’m kidding. This is fine. We’re adults.” 

“I see how it is. You’re going to tease me now, is that it?” 

“Yes, I am.” 

She shook her head, swinging her legs down to stand, yawning as she did. “I’ll have to remember that.” 

He quickly stood as well, his gaze on her. “Have I kept you too long?” 

“No, I am here on my own accord. But I am tired.” 

Leo smirked, buttoning up his suit jacket as he ended up back behind his desk. “Better get used to it.”

“Yes, sir.” She smirked right back. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“You can count on it.” He went back to work, effectively dismissing her without much aplomb, and it made her shake her head as she headed out of the office to get some sleep.

Chapter Text

Leo: The State of the Union

The lobby buzzed with the usual post-State of the Union fervor. It never got old. The excitement that seemed to rattle the chests of every single person, whether they found the speech “good” or not. It intoxicated him, but he tempered himself and tried to keep from being too outwardly eager. The President had it right, when he’d remarked that this speech was likely to be the speech of his political career. With Capital Beat running post-speech live just down the hall and his favorables likely to jump amongst Democrats and Republicans alike, he knew the President wasn’t exactly that far off.

Now, if only he could keep the First Lady from jumping down his throat.

However, the speech wasn’t the only thing making his heart pound in his chest. At some point between seeing Ria the previous evening and before the President whisked away across the street to the Senate building, his friend had invited the therapist and her interpreter to the proceedings. Leo had tried to temper his excitement, as he always did, but he knew Jed had seen right through him.

***

“You’re welcome,” he said boisterously, in front of both Sam and Toby who shot looks of confusion between the President and his Chief.

“I didn’t ask for you to do that."

“No, you didn’t, but aren’t you glad that I did?”

“Not that you need to know, Mr. President, but we already made plans.”

The President whipped off his glasses, ignoring his writers who, obviously, trying to listen to the conversation. “You did?”

“Mr. President—“

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Mr. President, your speech writers are here and doing an excellent job of listening to our conversation.”

Leo turned to Sam and Toby. While the two were now, surreptitiously, engaged in conversation, he knew the pair would have questions about whom the President invited to the reception for Leo. Though, he had a pretty good idea that Toby knew exactly who they were talking about.

The President waved Leo’s concerns off. “What happens in here stays in here. Right, guys?”

Sam and Toby’s heads both snapped up. “I’m sorry, were you talking, Mr. President?”

Leo’s lips pursed in a thin line. He sometimes appreciated Sam’s naivety, but now, it grated on him.

“Sam…” He trailed off, swallowing the scold he felt rising in his throat.

“Yes sir, Mr. President,” Toby answered for the both of them.

“Good, lads.” At Leo’s continued expression, the President dismissed Sam and Toby who both hurried off, leaving the two of them together. “They won’t say anything.”

“Sam won’t, but Toby might.”

“He doesn’t even know who we’re talking about.”

“I doubt that, Mr. President.”

“Either way, aren’t you going to thank me or tell me what your plans are?”

He tried not to let a somewhat fond smile spread across his face. “Thank you, Mr. President, but wouldn’t she be better suited over with Josh?”

Jed sighed, scooting up to his desk and sliding his glasses back on his face. “Now you’re just trying to piss me off.”

Leo laughed, tucking a folder under his arm. “Yes, sir, Mr. President.”

***

In the background, he could hear Abbey wrapping up a tense speech as his eyes roamed the crowd, trying to spot Ria’s now familiar blonde hair. The moment he did, his heart clenched, beginning to beat rapidly in his chest. Roger flanked her, his hands moving smoothly as they spoke together. Leo watched them for a long moment, finding the movements beautiful and intimate. Not for the first time since their little hallway fingerspelling lesson, he wondered what it would be like to learn how to speak to her properly like that. He wondered if the language would be easy to learn or if he could pick it up quickly. The idea appealed to him. He liked the idea of communicating with her privately where no one else could know. Well, no one else but Roger. The thought permeated every inch of his mind until it overflowed and filled with him warmth and butterflies.

Roger spotted him first, signing something that looked familiar—maybe it was his name—and Ria looked up and waved as they approached him.

“Mr. McGarry,” Roger spoke first, extending his hand, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Leo shook Roger’s hand amiably, but something inside of him waited to see if the other man would say more. When he didn’t, he tried not to look as disappointed as he felt.

“Likewise, Mr. Collins.”

“Please, it’s Roger.”

Leo nodded and turned to face Ria, asking the first thing to come to his mind. “How are you settling in?”

It sounded so idiotic to his own ears. He couldn’t imagine what Roger was thinking as the other man translated. Thankfully, Ria laughed, ducking her head, her cheeks turning just the slightest shade of pink.

I’m settling in well. But I think, eventually, Roger is going to need his own office.

Roger shot Ria a look, fond but teasing. “Getting tired of me already?”

She laughed. Hardly.

Leo felt a stab of jealousy at the laugh, but swallowed it down thickly as Abbey finally finished up in the background. A swell of clapping rippled through the crowd and the somewhat dull drone of conversation suddenly got louder around them. The formalities hung in the air, awkward and lingering. He didn’t know what to say, not with Roger around. With just them together, the conversation flowed so easily. He felt uninhibited with her around, unencumbered by the formalities of the job and the expectations thrust upon him. The inclusion of other people brought to the fore his stark reality. It left bitterness on his tongue.

He properly returned his attention to the pair in front of him. As he did, he caught the tail end of something signed between the pair and then Roger slipped away. Leo fought against heaving a relieved sigh. She would see that all over him.

“I saw that, you know?”

He feigned innocence. “Saw what?”

“Roger’s my interpreter.”

“Am I really that obvious?”

“To me, you are.” She stepped closer to him, shooting him a fond look but it appeared different from the expression she gave Roger. This looked tenderer, gentler and less teasing.

“I’ll have to remember that for the future.”

“Well, to be fair, I’d rather you not hide from me.”

He chuckled softly. “I won’t. You deserve better than that.”

“Thank you,” she said through a smile.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but a flash of red from the corner of his eyes pulled both their attentions away from each other. As the subject of their collective diversion approached, Ria scooted closer to him, their arms touching. Leo tried not to focus on the way he could almost feel the brush of her hand against his, his fingers extending for the briefest of seconds before he caught himself and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Abbey,” he spoke over the din of surrounding conversation. Beside him, he felt Ria straighten and stiffen. “This is Dr. Ria Brewer, our new mental health consultant.”

“Dr. Bartlett,” she breathed excitedly as she began to tremble, “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

The First Lady held out her hand to Ria and the two shook hands.

“The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Brewer.”

“I’ve read some of your work. I’ll admit, I didn’t understand a lot of it, but your presentation was impeccable.”

“Well, thank you, Dr. Brewer. I haven’t read any of your work. Not for lack of trying, though. I did look you up.”

“I’ve…had a few articles fall through. Though, I’ll admit, I haven’t pursued the idea a lot since…well, since some things have happened.”

He knew Abbey knew about Ria’s fiancé. She had to have. He can’t imagine that she and the President hadn’t talked about it. He also couldn’t imagine that Abbey hadn’t done her own digging, especially after she came in and read Ria’s name on the list.

“That’s okay. You work here now with us.” Abbey leaned forward closer to Ria. “That’s better than writing articles any day.”

Ria laughed. “You’re right about that.”

Abbey stepped back to survey the pair of them, and Leo shifted on the balls of his feet under her gaze.

“Dr. Brewer—”

“Please,” the younger woman began, cutting Abbey off, “it’s Ria, Dr. Bartlett.”

“Ria, in that case. I would love to talk to you some more, but will you please excuse me and Leo?”

Ria nodded, and Leo swore he could feel the buzz of her excitement shudder through the both of them. He tried to hold back a smile, but couldn’t quite make it, his lips curving up rather fondly. He felt Abbey stare at him. He didn’t dare meet her eyes, though, because he could imagine it well enough. When had he ever escaped a narrow eyed gaze from one Abbey Bartlett? The answer was never.

“I’ll see you soon,” Ria said with a smile and a soft touch to his sleeve.

He nodded as she turned to leave, searching for Roger in the slew of people.

“I knew this would happen.”

“What?” Leo tried to feign innocence.

“Don’t ‘what’ me. From the moment you met her, you’ve been all over her.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Abbey—”

“No, you have been, and now she’s all over you. Have you asked her out yet? Is that why she seemed to be extra touchy feely with you tonight?”

All he could do was stare at her. He knew there were other pressing matters at hand, namely the State of the Union and what the President had said in the speech. For the moment, though, Abbey’s attentions focused solely on him and Ria. It made him uncomfortable. The President hadn’t been wrong when he’d said that both he and Abbey knew the moment he started courting Jenny. He almost shouted it from the rooftops. He wanted to keep Ria hidden, though. He couldn’t pinpoint why. Abbey may be one of his closest friends, but something about this felt secret, clandestine. Not clandestine in the way it could be dangerous, but right now, he didn’t want to think about the consequences, if there even were any.

“That’s none of your business.”

Her eyes narrowed, lips pursing as she peered at him. “You rushed her appointment.”

“We have extenuating circumstances.”

“Don’t we ever,” she retorted bitterly. She didn’t mean Ria and Leo or Ria and Josh

“Abbey, we got our guys. We changed the language to broaden—”

“I was there, Leo.”

“We changed the language at the last minute. You wanna be pissed, the architect of this speech—”

“I don’t wanna be pissed at anyone, but thanks for asking. And I don’t need to be told who the architect of tonight’s speech was.”

The room suddenly erupted in applause and praise for Toby who had just entered the hall.

“Abbey…” he trailed off, his tone holding a warning edge to it.

“I know you had something to do with it,” she stated plainly, switching tactics a bit.

“I serve at the pleasure of the President,” he countered.

She sighed, her countenance softening just a smidge. “Are you really not going to tell me anything about Dr. Brewer?”

“No, I’m not.”

Another huff, soft, annoyed, but full of resignation. “Fine.” Abbey turned to leave, but turned back to face him. “You know, Casanova,” she began, much to Leo’s chagrin. Damn Jed and her for that nickname he knew was about to become a reoccurring inside joke. “I’m sure Jed already said this, but whatever happens, we’ll fully support you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And don’t you dare hurt her,” she said pointedly.

“Abbey…” he sighed and shook his head. “I won’t.”

“Good.”

“Are you going to read her the riot act, too?”

“Jury’s still out.” Abbey smiled slyly.

“Don’t kill Toby.”

A scowl painted her features as she turned with finality to walk away. “No promises.”

Leo took a deep breath, pressing his fingers to his eyes until he saw stars. Abbey and the President were both going to be the death of him. 

He looked out across the crowd and saw Ria and Roger talking to…dear, God. John Marbury. As if Abbey being on the warpath wasn't bad enough. Now he had to deal with Marbury flirting with his girl. 

His girl. His. The thought sent warmth through him. Everything felt like it was moving so quickly, but he found himself not caring. Let it move fast. Where was the harm in that? 

“Leo,” Margaret’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned to face the redhead. “They need you in the Situation Room.” 

He cursed to himself. 

This was almost a good day.

Chapter Text

Ria: The State of the Union pt 2

Ria could not keep everything straight, not even with Roger interpreting. Lord John continued speaking, barely even waiting between pauses or punctuation before he blazed on through to another thought. She tugged at the sleeves of her dark blue sweater dress. Her eyes barely focused on the signing. Yes, that would have helped with her understanding what the Brit was saying, but in this room, around these people, she was having difficulty focusing. Not only that, she could still feel Leo’s warmth in her body and the way her hand had settled on his arm. She tried to ignore the way everything felt so languid and bright. She tried to ignore that everything also seemed so off-kilter, but off-kilter in a way that was more good than bad. 

She, honestly, couldn’t put it into proper words.

She took a deep breath and refocused her attention back to John and Roger. 

“So, what do you do in the administration, Lord Marbury?” 

He waved her off, swaying as he did so. “Nothing of importance, I can assure you” 

“Oh, well, I find that hard to believe.” 

“No, I really don’t. I just sit around. Looking handsome.” 

She snorted softly. “Well, you are handsome, I won’t deny that, but I’m…currently–” she motioned a bit lamely, not a sign, not anything, truth were known. 

Roger shot her a look that she ignored. 

“Oh, yes. Sorry. You two must be–”

“No!” both she and Roger exclaimed quickly and in unison.

“No, no, Roger and I aren’t–” She shook her head. “No.”

John laughed at the two of them, clearly amused at their quick reaction and vehement denial. “Here I’ve been yammering on, trying to get you to have a drink with me.” 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Ria said through a smile.

“You’ve not been a disappointment, I assure you.” 

Despite herself, that made her blush, ducking her head and trying to hide in the dim light of the building. 

“You’ve been the one doing the most talking. I’ve just been standing here.” 

“Looking particularly beautiful, if I say so myself.” Her blush deepened as Roger signed those words. “But, look, enough about me. What is it you do for the President? I don’t remember you being in one of these soirees before.”

“I’m the new senior consultant on mental health and disability.” 

“A considerably more glamourous job than mine.” 

Her eyes narrowed playfully. “You say that after having been to the State of the Union.” 

“I’d much rather watch it on television without all the pomp and circumstance.” 

“With a drink in your hand,” Roger asked under his breath, too quiet for John to have heard, but Ria caught it. 

She batted him in the arm sharply. Stop that . 

He held up his hands in surrender, signing a quick sorry before returning to the conversation. 

“I will admit, it was far more comfortable watching it at home than here.”

“As I suspected.” John took a swig of his drink. “Far be it for me to keep you, though. Go. Go mingle. Make some new friends. Go see whatever paramour has caught your eye.” 

She playfully bowed. “You do the same, sir.” 

He wrinkled his nose a bit. “Yes, well, let us hope that I will find equally stimulating company.” 

Without waiting for her to reply, John sauntered off into the crowd. Ria took a deep breath, sighed, and peered over at Roger with equal parts exasperation and amusement. Her interpreter mirrored her expression. She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. She’d met some interesting characters before, but she was pretty sure that Lord John Marbury took the cake. 

Did that really just happen? She signed curiously.

It was Roger’s turn to laugh. I’m pretty sure it did. 

Another deep breath and a sharp sigh. Could you understand what he was saying?

Yes, but then again, I can focus a little better than you can.

Ria slapped his chest with the back of her hand. That’s mean . But she knew the joke in those words. 

But you love me anyway . 

You’re lucky I do.  

Silence briefly passed between them before Roger signed again. What aren’t you telling me, Ria? 

She feigned innocence. I don’t know what you’re talking about. 

What you said to Marbury. 

She feared this conversation. She couldn’t pinpoint why. Roger didn’t know she harbored a crush on the handsome, yet fierce, White House Chief of Staff. He could guess, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of confirming his suspicions. Some things he wanted to keep to herself. Not only that, she didn’t even know what was going to happen with her and Leo. It was a simple ice cream date. Ria didn’t even want to call it a date. They were simply two people getting to know each other better. 

Despite that, doubts still lingered at the back of her mind. Had she treated him too much like a patient? That guilt nagged at her, no matter how many times she’d told herself they didn’t have a doctor-patient relationship. They didn’t . They just talked. She made it very clear about that, but Roger didn’t know. She shook her head. 

It’s nothing. He doesn’t need to know I don’t date. 

Or, rather, she didn’t want to date him . 

That’s not what you said. 

That’s what he inferred. 

Ria–

She reached out, laying a hand on his to stop him from talking. “It’s none of your business, Roger. Okay?” Roger shot her a look, but he didn’t say anything. 

“Did I see you talking to Dr. Bartlet just a few minutes ago?” 

“You did,” she exclaimed brightly. She couldn’t keep the excitement from her expression, her eyes shining as her lips quirked into a happy grin. “Oh my god, she’s wonderful.” 

“Not at all scary like you thought she was at one time?” 

Another smack to his arm. “Shut up. No. She was fine.” But then her brows furrowed. “She seemed upset about something, though.”

“Don’t go psycho analyzing her like you tend to do,” Roger teased playfully.

“You really are cruising for a bruising tonight, aren’t you?” 

He just smirked. “I’m going to go mingle.” 

Ria started to open her mouth to say something but she felt a hand touch her arm as Roger stood there, almost slack-jawed, his eyes widening a little at the person who’d made their presence known. She turned to see Abbey beside her, looking far less upset about things, a smile on her face. 

“Dr. Bartlet,” she began, not knowing if she’d said something or not, “this is my interpreter Roger. Roger, this is Dr. Bartlett.” 

Abbey held out a hand to Roger who shook it shakily. “Don’t worry, Mr. Collins. I don’t bite.” 

That seemed to jar the man out of his surprise. “Yes, ma’am. I didn’t think you did, to be fair.” 

The three of them laughed. For a moment, everything felt right in the strangest way possible. She felt like she belonged there for the first time since she started. Granted, she hadn’t been moved in but for about three weeks. In those three weeks, she’d been given more reports to read than she could shake a stick at. Some of them made complete sense; others she’d taken a red pen to with nary a thought. She was no writer, but if the President was going to use her as a consultant, she would consult. That included pointing out egregious errors in things the President would, eventually, be reading. However, she often prefaced those “red pen” meetings with a comment that stated she was no expert. Despite that, the President seemed glad to have her. It felt like he was the only one.

Of the senior staff and their assistants, the only three who had really welcomed her were Donna, Leo, and Margaret. Leo, she understood. Donna and Margaret, she understood. The others and their continued insistence on ignoring her and pretending that she didn’t exist (or hating that she did ), irked her. Ria had no time for childish, mean people's antics, but, she supposed, she somewhat understood their reasoning. She had , after all, come into their lives rather unceremoniously. Which was why she felt immense gratitude at Abbey at the moment. 

“Good, that’s good. I’d hate to have a reputation.” The First Lady winked over at Ria which made her stifle a laugh. 

“I don’t know, Dr. Bartlet, it seems like a good reputation to have.”

“You got that right.” Abbey paused, glanced between her and Roger, then continued, “Dr. Brewer, would you mind if I borrowed you for a while?”

Ria smiled at Roger, waving him off. “Go mingle.” 

He mock saluted and disappeared into the crowd. 

The blonde swallowed thickly as she tried to temper her nerves and tried not to show how wholly unprepared she felt for whatever this conversation was about to entail.

“Dr. Brewer–”

“Ria,” she interjected. 

“Right, Ria. Walk with me.” 

Abbey turned and began to walk away. Ria followed quickly, positioning herself beside the older woman. They walked in silence, through the hallways, out of the throng of people until they were in what she could only guess was the East Wing of the White House. She’d never been there before. It didn’t look much different than the West Wing, but it was much quieter despite the festivities happening elsewhere in the building. 

“Ma’am? Is everything okay?” Ria finally ventured curiously. 

Abbey waved her off. “Yes, yes. Everything’s fine. I didn’t want to talk where a lot of people could hear us.” 

Ria’s mind churned. Despite the First Lady’s insistence that everything was fine, she couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was she wanted to talk about. Could it be about the State of the Union? Truthfully, though, she didn’t know much about the policy shifts or the language or anything like that. She’d started too late and what little she spoke about hadn’t quite made it into the speech. Not that she blamed the President or even Sam and Toby for the omission. She was still getting her sea legs. 

“I’m not in trouble am I?” 

The First Lady laughed. “Not at all.” 

She led them into a plush office, much nicer than anything she’d seen in the West Wing. She looked around, but not enough to draw her attention for any length of time. Her gaze remained focused on Abbey, curious about what seemed to be so important. 

“Is this your office?” 

“It is.” Abbey sat down in front of the window on a much nicer couch than what was in Leo’s office. The thought made her smile as she settled herself across from the older woman. “Now, I have a couple of questions for you, if you don’t mind my asking them.” 

“Well, it all depends on what you’re going to ask me, Dr. Bartlet.”

Now she knew where this was going.

“Between us girls,” the First Lady sat forward, her elbows settling on her knees, “what’s going on between you and Leo?”

“Oh, we’re getting right to the point. Okay. You know, this would not pass the Bechdel Test if we were in a movie.”

“It’s a good thing we’re not in a movie, then.” Ria laughed and shook her head. “You’re not going to tell me either, are you?”

“No, ma’am.” 

Abbey’s eyes narrowed a little bit. “You know he rushed your appointment.” 

“I wondered about that. I wondered what you and the President had thought about it.” 

“Me?”

“Yes, of course, you. Don’t act so surprised.” As soon as Ria said those words, her eyes widened. “Apologies, Dr. Bartlet. I didn’t mean to be so–”

“You think I can’t handle a little lip between friends?” Abbey pursed her lips, quite clearly attempting to swallow laughter and it made Ria feel a little bit better. 

“It’s just, I knew you three were friends. I knew you all must have talked together.” 

The First Lady leaned back into the cushions. “We have, yes.” Abbey paused and, to Ria, it looked like she was carefully weighing her words. “He’s quite taken with you, you know?”

Ria raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Mr. McGarry?”

This time, Abbey did laugh. “Yes, Mr. McGarry. We’re still talking about him.” 

“I think he’s simply being welcoming.”

“Aria,” no one called her Aria. Ever. Unless they were making a point, and the fact that Abbey called her by her full name, made her sit up. “Listen to me. I’ve known Leo for a long time. He’s welcoming, sure, but I’ve never seen him like this.”

Ria swallowed thickly, barely managing to force out her next words. “Like what?”

“He’s like a damn teenager. All sweaty and nervous.” 

“He’s not like that with me.”

“That’s because he’s so damn stubborn.”

“It’s not stubbornness if he doesn’t really feel anything about me.”

This conversation felt so strange. She couldn’t believe she was sitting there in the First Lady’s office, on her sofa, talking to her about the President’s Chief of Staff. If someone had asked her a month ago, if she could dream of something like this, she would’ve answered with a resounding “no.” She never would’ve even imagined coming to the White House like she had been. That’d been a privilege in itself. This…was almost unfathomable. 

“Trust me, Ria, he does.”

Ria didn’t know how to respond to that. “Dr. Bartlet, as much as I’m enjoying this conversation, I think I would like it even more if I could return to the party.”

“Do I intimidate you, Dr. Brewer?” 

She smirked at Abbey. “Not at all, Dr. Bartlet. I’m just not going to divulge any information to you.”

The older woman sat there for a long moment. Neither of them moved or spoke, but Ria wasn’t going to back down. 

“Well, then,” Abbey stood and Ria did the same. “In that case, I hope you have a good time at the party.” 

“I will.” The younger woman turned to go but then stopped. “If you need to speak to me about anything, you know where my office is.” 

“Yes, ma’am. And you know where mine is, too.” 

Ria beamed and nodded. “I’ll see you around, Dr. Bartlet. It was nice meeting you.” 

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

Ria nodded again then left to wind her way out of the East Wing and back to the party.

Chapter Text

The moment the President dismissed him to go home, Leo, with his briefcase in tow, the weight of the situation in Colombia heavy on his shoulders, climbed in his waiting car, and for the briefest second, debated on whether he actually wanted to go home yet. Earlier that evening, when it became apparent that the agents were going to be top priority for the foreseeable future, he sought out Ria and broke the news to her. He wasn’t sure what her reaction would be, but what she did do surprised him. He was still thinking about it even as his driver turned around and asked if he was going home. 

Home. He hadn’t had a home in over two years now. The Watergate was a resting place. It served his needs well enough. He had access to food and didn’t need to do laundry or pay a housekeeper. But, in the end, it wasn’t a home. It was a foreign place, alien and desolate. Lonely. He hardly ever admitted that, not to himself and definitely not to anyone else who might ask. Some days were better than others. Nights like that night, however, saw him wanting company to quiet the anxiety percolating in his chest. 

He pulled out his cell phone, made a quick call, and rerouted his driver–who’d taken it upon himself to start the drive to the Watergate–to a cozy vintage style building in Anacostia with brown brick and a red front door. He regretted not going to the hotel to change. He only thought of it once the car stopped and he was climbing his way up the small stoop. Leo surveyed the gold plated buttons to the right of the door. If he pressed that button, would it wake her? How would she know he was the one outside? 

This did nothing to calm his anxiety. Lovely. 

Despite the off putting feeling, he pressed the button, waited, then pressed the button again. 

The door unlocked with a loud buzz. He pressed inside, heading up the stairs quickly until he stood awkwardly at her door. His thoughts still wandered to how in the world this was going to work, but before he could come up with a definitive answer, the door swung open. His breath caught in his chest but he tried to hide it and pretend it didn’t. 

Even though it was well past midnight, she still looked beautiful. The dress she wore to the party was long gone, replaced with long flannel pants and a blue silk robe. 

“Leo,” she exclaimed, immediately pulling the robe closer around her.

“I apologize.” He took a step back from the threshold. “I suppose I should have called first.”

A small, playful smile spread across her lips as she peered at him. “To make sure I wasn’t asleep or that I was even home to begin with?” 

His own lips twitched. “Both, of course.” 

Ria shook her head, clearly amused with this turn of events. “Come in. Do you like tea or coffee? Or neither?” She stepped to the side to allow him inside. 

Leo quickly surveyed the small apartment as she shut the door behind him. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t…this. He should have known that a self-proclaimed old soul who asked him out for milkshakes like it was the 1950s wouldn’t have a modern flair for decoration. He was wrong. Well, partially wrong. Modernity touched every part of the apartment from the fridge to the television to the side tables and the upright piano. The piano made him do a double take, as did the desk–another touch of modern–though for an entirely different reason. Sat upon it, pristine and gorgeous, was a Smith-Corona typewriter. Impressed, he turned toward her and got her attention. 

“A typewriter?” 

She nodded. “The desk in my room has a computer. Sorry to disappoint.” 

The quirk of his lips quickly became a full grown smile. “I’m not disappointed.”

“Good.” And without barely a pause, she continued with a laugh, “Coffee or tea, since you didn't answer me when I first asked.”

“Tea. Herbal, if you have it.”

“I'd offer lavender and chamomile, but I'm sure you'd rather not fall asleep on my sofa.”

A quick, intrusive thought caught him off guard. He wouldn't mind falling asleep somewhere else, but he certainly wasn't going to give that thought a voice.

Another thought pulled him back to reality, but she'd already turned away to a small white gas stove and a gleaming silver tea kettle. He softly touched her shoulder, and she turned to him with an automatic smile.

“I have a somewhat stupid question.”

“There is no such thing.”

“Toby would beg to differ on that.”

She laughed, a bright musical sound that sent a sharp pang of longing through his chest. 

He cleared his throat. “How did you know it was me?”

Ria lifted an eyebrow. “At the door?” Leo nodded, feeling sheepish as he did so. “I have a peep hole.” 

“Ah, so it was a stupid question. Duly noted.” 

She laughed even harder. “I didn't know it was you ringing the doorbell, though. But I kind of figured.” 

“Am I that obvious?” 

Her gaze landed on him, looking him over with sparkling eyes. “No, not yet anyway.”

It was his turn to laugh as the kettle began to whistle. Before he could say anything, she turned, pressed a hand to the handle, and then reached over to turn off the stove and pour the water into two mugs that sat waiting on the counter. 

“Make yourself at home,” she said as she handed his mug over to him. 

He walked deeper into the apartment, eyes still roaming as he took a seat in the surprisingly comfortable blue velvet sofa. He gingerly ran his free hand over the arm of it. A small grin turning his lips upward. 

“So,” she began, sitting beside him, her weight comforting despite being situated a respectable distance away, “I'm not going to insult you by asking how you found me. I'm sure you called the FBI or looked at my file.” 

He paused, his tea cup halfway to his lips as he peered over at her. “How did you–”

“It's what President Shepherd did in The American President,” she answered quickly with a grin. “Plus, it's what I would do if I had access to your FBI file.” 

“I live at the Watergate.” 

“The hotel? You live in a hotel?” 

Leo shrugged, finally taking a drink of his tea. “It allows me to focus on work. I don't have distractions that a house might bring.”

Ria fell quiet. From where he was sitting, he could almost hear the gears in her head turning. He swallowed thickly. He didn't know why. Something shifted in that moment, some unspoken thing that he couldn't put his finger on. What he also couldn't pinpoint was whether whatever was happening was a good thing or a bad thing. 

She lowered her mug to her lap. Her slender fingers gently caressed the rim, her face cutely scrunched in thought. 

“Am I a distraction for you?”

The question landed in his chest with a thud, his heart and all other internal organs sinking to the pit of his stomach. 

“What makes you ask that?” 

She shrugged. “A feeling. A…curiosity.” She trailed off and when he was about to speak again, she continued, “You don't want me to psychoanalyze you tonight.” 

His walls shot up quickly. His entire body stiffening at the statement. “No, maybe I do.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, but the rest of her body screamed tenderness and concern. The way she angled her body toward him, her posture relaxed, shoulders slack. Completely opposite from what he felt like at that moment. 

“Leo–”

“I want to know.” 

He tried to temper himself. Tried to soften his stance to match hers. He brought the tea to his lips and scalded his tongue with a big gulp, swallowing all the things he wanted to say. They sounded hurtful as his mind tumbled over them in the ensuing silence. 

“Your wedding ring,” she said simply. 

He caught himself flicking a gaze down to it but quickly returned to looking at her. “What about it?”

“You still wear it. You're not married. You said so yourself. You're married to the job. You're married to the President, the government,” she paused, laughing a little through her next words, “even Abbey in some small way.” She took a breath. “You're married to the office. Every single facet of it. I'm not a fool, Leo. You run the government. You pull the strings. You steer the President where he needs to go. You're the most powerful man in Washington. Forget President Bartlet. It's you. The wedding ring is a symbol and a reminder that this is the most important thing in your life right now.” 

He swallowed the rest of his tea down in one pull. Words bubbled up in his throat, his mind roaring with memories. Jenny. Mallory. Everything that led him to this moment. How could he be so transparent? Had he always been this way? 

“I thought you hadn't read about me before,” he tried to joke, hoping it landed in the way he intended.

Ria laughed. “I haven't.” 

“You're not a distraction.”

“Then what am I? How do I fit in this scenario? Because I've been wondering. Why did you say yes? Why are you here?” 

“Ria, I…can't answer those questions because I don't know.”

“I think you do,” she stated simply, settling her mug on the coffee table. “I think I do, too.”

He finished his tea and without even thinking set his mug next to hers, so close they were almost touching. Two halves of the same whole. Two lonely people seeking solace in each other. Two souls searching for the ones who understood. 

Leo did know. Of course, he knew. She knew, too. 

He couldn't use his ring as a shield anymore. At least, not with her, and he didn't want to. 

Warmth suddenly spread over his skin. Her hand felt soft against the weathered curve of his cheek. It settled there like it belonged, fitting perfectly. She brushed her thumb under his eye. His heart pounded in his chest, thumping throughout his body. The hollow rush of blood filled his ears, and it felt like the world suddenly burst into color again. The blue of her sofa was suddenly almost too blue, but in a way he didn't quite mind, blinding him with the overwhelming sense of her. Everything felt too big and too small all at once. Too bright. Too colorful, but perfect all the same. Her brown eyes glinted in the lamplight as she watched him. Her lips curled into a soft smile that crinkled the edges of her eyes. Beautiful. Dazzling. All his, and he was all hers in return.

In one fluid motion, he wrapped his arm around her, ignoring the way his suit jacket pulled uncomfortably. He'd handle that later. She squeaked at the move, taken back by the suddenness of it but it quickly melted into a laugh. Leo could get used to hearing her laugh like that. So elegant. So free. So utterly unencumbered by the horrors despite their presence in the background of their lives. Of hers. 

He leaned forward. Pressed his forehead to hers. Closed his eyes. She smelled of honey and lavender with a faint hint of wildflowers and something he couldn't figure out. Something woodsy. Maybe he'd ask Sam. The thought made him laugh. 

“Is this predicament funny?” Ria asked playfully. 

He pulled back enough for her to see him properly. 

He shook his head. “No, not at all.”

“Good.” 

She settled herself fully on his lap, turning them so both her knees settled on either side of his thighs. The world spun pleasantly. Her weight on him ground him so he couldn't float away. Or, rather, spin away. The faint scrape of nails on his scalp brought him back. He took a breath. Took two. Fully aware he counted them and the seconds they sat there like this.

Five breaths–or it could've been more–passed. Then, just as soft as her hand on his cheek, her lips pressed against his. Warmth seeped inside his chest, his stomach. Electricity crackled up his spine. His arms banded around her, pulling her closer to him.

A hand tangled in her hair as she brushed her tongue against his bottom lip. Leo surrendered to her gladly. 

Beautiful. So goddamn beautiful.

Chapter Text

“Read page eight.” 

The paper landed on her desk first, the explanation coming in broken a second later when she looked up and caught CJ speaking. She understood enough to know that she needed to read whatever this was. What she was supposed to do after that, she didn’t know. So, she picked up the transcript and thumbed through it, reading over what was an internet conversation between the current surgeon general and someone very interested in marijuana and the health effects of the drug. Ria couldn’t figure out what to do with the transcript. In fact, she thought Dr. Griffith was spot on in her characterization of it all.

“Okay, what about it?”

CJ lifted an eyebrow. “What about it? She reversed our position.”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Ria–”

“She didn’t.”

CJ didn’t reply to her. She didn’t look impressed, Ria knew that for sure. No one was. The air in the entire building, but especially in the West Wing felt tense from the moment she and Roger had walked in that morning. Feelings of inadequacy bubbled up in the pit of her stomach, but she stared at CJ long and hard and didn’t let her anxiety get in the way of holding her ground. 

“Aria–”

“Claudia Jean.”

The press secretary pointed at her. “Don’t start with me.” 

Ria smiled as sweetly as possible. “The fact of the matter is, CJ, she didn’t reverse our position, and you know that. And I know that because I’m also a doctor and I know the medical research on this topic.”

“You’re a pain, you know that?” 

Another sweet smile. “I’m well aware.” Ria paused and looked back over the transcript. “This happened last night?” 

“Around nine.” 

“Why wasn’t I told?”

CJ stared at her. “Josh didn’t mention anything to you?” 

Ria shook her head. “He didn’t.” 

The press secretary scowled as Ria handed the paper back to her. “Donna?” 

“With all due respect, I think they were a bit more worried about what was said than whether I knew.”

“It doesn’t matter. They should have said something.”

They should have, but Ria wasn’t in the habit of making enemies or annoying people so early in her tenure. She chalked it up to Josh, animosity toward her, and everything she stood for. She’d work on that and get that fixed eventually. Or maybe she could get Ronnie to talk to him. She frowned to herself. No, perhaps that was a bad idea. Getting Leo to do her dirty work was an even worse idea. 

Eventually, she realized she’d been quiet for far too long. She cleared her throat and glanced back up at CJ. 

“It’s fine. I know now. Toby and Josh can yell at me properly later.” 

“For agreeing with the surgeon general?” 

Through a smirk. “You know she was right.” 

CJ rolled her eyes goodnaturedly. “Unfortunately.” 

“We’re showing her our support, right?” When CJ didn’t answer, she tried again. “Right?”

She knew she shouldn’t have asked as she watched CJ shift on her feet, eyes downcast like she was trying to come up with something that wouldn’t make Ria mad. The consultant sighed and shook her head. 

“Forget I asked. How is the interpreter hunt coming?” CJ didn’t answer that either. “Can you tell me anything useful?”

“Leo’s coming back Thursday.” 

Leo. Ria tried not to think about the kiss that still lingered like a ghost on her lips. Only, it wasn’t just the kiss. It was the way he felt underneath her, solid and warm and cuddly in a way she’d missed in the years since Jack died. It was the way he saw her in a way she couldn’t explain to Roger or anyone in her life. Like nothing really mattered. Not her disability. Not her quirks–which he still hadn’t seen all of–or her stubbornness. None of it. To be cliche, it felt like a breath of fresh air, and she wanted to guzzle it down like a parched woman led to an oasis. 

Mixed metaphors aside, Ria returned her attention to CJ with a small smile. 

“Not exactly what I meant, but thank you for that.” 

CJ laughed. “I’m not blind.” 

“Nothing is happening between us.” 

The press secretary lifted an eyebrow but didn’t delve into that statement. “I’ll talk to Josh about keeping you in the loop.” 

“No offense, CJ, but you know he won’t listen.” 

“Then maybe you should talk to Leo about it.” 

“I think I’m going to talk to Josh about it.” 

CJ held up her hands and turned to leave. “Don’t let him push you around.” She didn’t wait for Ria to respond. She was gone out of her office as quickly as she came in. 

In the ensuing loneliness, Ria worked through some paperwork she assumed was mostly busy work. She found herself not minding, it kept her hands busy. When she finished up, she sent it with a courier and found herself twiddling her thumbs. After a moment, she turned to her computer and began to research.

***

She pushed open the door without knocking, finding both Toby and Josh, as well as CJ–imagine that–in Josh’s office, sitting around the desk locked in conversation. Without waiting for Josh and without knowing what in the world they were talking about, she shut the door behind her and slapped a manilla folder onto his desk. 

“All the medical research to back up Griffith’s claim she made. Plus, all the information I could find about this administration and its policy on drugs.”

Both Josh and Toby peered up at her then back at the folder she had unceremoniously dropped in front of them. From the corner of her eye, she saw CJ back away from the three of them, like she anticipated a fight between the three. Ria wholeheartedly expected them to come to blows. In the time she’d been there, she couldn’t count how many times she’d had words with them. Josh usually held his contempt in a little better than the other man, but she was quickly learning how to temper Toby and his…moralistic high horse. 

“I didn’t ask for this.” 

“No, but I figured you’d need to see it before you gave Griffith the boot.” 

“That won’t change the president’s mind,” Toby said, peering at her with that same blank yet smug expression he always seemed to wear around her. 

“I’m not trying to change the president’s mind. I’m trying to change your mind,” she took a deep breath. “Look, decisions are made by those who show up. We’re not getting anywhere on drugs because none of you are anywhere on drugs, at least not where you should be.” 

“We have an impressive drug policy.” 

Ria lifted an eyebrow. “Do you really?” 

“Dr. Brewer–” 

“You know,” she began, cutting Toby off, “when you start your argument with my professional title, whatever argument you have is a moot point.”

“We’re not going to decriminalize marijuana,” he continued despite the outburst.

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s a schedule one narcotic,” his voice rose sharply. 

“Don’t shout at me.” 

“You’re the one making an argument for a drug that has a high potential for abuse and no federally approved medical usage!” 

“Don’t shout at me. I have not made that argument yet, because you haven’t let me speak. You, also, haven’t even looked at the research I managed to pull together that says that low-THC marijuana mitigates the side effects of some neurological conditions without the harmful damage pharmaceuticals cause.”

“Pharmaceuticals are approved by the FDA–”

“And a bad batch of pharmaceuticals with a recall is far more detrimental than a possible so-called “gateway” drug. Dr. Griffith is right, and you guys know it.” 

“Dr. Brewer–”

“Toby. You know I’m right.” 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re right or not. You’re not the face of policy around here. Not to mention you’re a mere consultant.”

Her eyes narrowed, her gaze looking between the three senior staff. “Read the file. Read the research. Talk to Dr. Griffith.”

In a moment that surprised her, Josh waved a hand to get her attention. “Ria, this isn’t your call.”

“I’m aware it’s not my call. As you've already pointed out, I’m also aware that I’m a doctor and a consultant.” She turned to Toby. “What’s the point of consulting when you won’t listen to what I have to say?”

None of them spoke up. She licked her teeth, took a deep breath, and turned to stalk out of Josh’s office without letting them speak another word. She’d paper the whole damn West Wing in the research she’d found if that made them listen. She took another deep breath. No, she wouldn’t do that. She had another trick up her sleeve. 

“Sophie? Hi, this is Dr. Brewer. Can you locate the Chief of Staff for me, please?” Sophie’s reply came over her screen quickly. From the corner of her eye, she could see Roger looking at her curiously from the desk beside her. 

What?

You think he’s going to listen to you?

I’m a consultant and a doctor. Isn’t that what he hired me for?

Roger lifted an eyebrow. Yes, but this is your first big issue. 

Ria shot him a look, brows furrowing. What’s that supposed to mean?

Nothing. Nothing. I just… He shook his head, smiling, mostly at her tenacity. They don’t know what they got with you. 

She laughed. I know. 

She returned her focus to the screen, patiently waiting for an indication that Leo had joined her on the call, or that Sophie had returned. Time ticked slowly as she waited. Her stomach rumbled, whether it was from hunger or nerves, she couldn’t say. What she could say was she wasn’t sure how this conversation was going to go. Toby’s words kept rattling around in her mind. The words she’d been told so many times throughout her life settled thickly in her chest and on her shoulders. 

She took a breath right as words flickered across her screen. 

“Doctor, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Ria cleared her throat. If she could melt into a puddle on the floor right then and there… “Yeah, Leo. I’m calling about Dr. Griffith.” 

The words on the screen paused. “I thought you would.” 

A flare of confusion and anger blazed through her. “Who tipped you off?” 

“You think I need someone to do that?” 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I thought otherwise.”

“Right. Anyway, you called–”

“Why are you asking for her resignation?” 

“Dr. Brewer–”

“Oh, don’t start with the formalities. I’ll tell you like I told Toby, when you start with my title, any argument you have is null and void.” 

“Dr. Brewer–” 

“Mr. McGarry.” 

Ria suddenly became starkly aware that Roger was still in the room.

Her gaze flicked over to him, signing quickly, Can you excuse me for a moment?

He stood without preamble and left, gathering a couple of folders to take with him. 

“Are you going to tell me why you’re asking for her resignation?” The answer didn’t come quickly. 

She stared at the screen, fully expecting him to not answer. Roger was right. They didn’t know what they got with her, and she wanted to take full advantage of that. The only problem was, she didn’t want Leo to think that she was taking advantage of…whatever they were doing or what was going on between them. She wasn’t. Or, at least, she didn’t think she was. The number of things she needed to talk to Roger about kept growing. 

“No, because I don’t answer to you; I answer to the President of the United States, as do you, and as does the Surgeon General. We will not change drug policy because of an Internet chat.” 

“And what about research and comments from not only the Surgeon General, but your own consultant for mental health?”

“That’s not a factor, Ria. We’re not entertaining this.” 

“Well, I think you should.” 

"Duly noted. Was there anything else you needed?” 

Ria faltered. Of course, there was more, but she knew it wasn’t appropriate.

“When do you get home this week?” She opted with, hopefully disguising her interest.

“Thursday night.” 

Another small falter, and she cleared her throat. “Can I see you when you get back?”

“You’ll see me at work.” 

“Yes, I will,” she said, smiling to herself. 

“I owe you something when I get back. Wait for me?”

Her smile widened. “I will. See you on Thursday.”

“See you on Thursday. Oh, and Ria?” 

“Yes, Leo?”

“Between you and me, thank you. For fighting for what is right.” 

Ria sniffed softly, her eyes welling in happy tears. “You’re welcome.” 

The call ended, and it took all of her strength to summon Roger back into the office, despite not being able to hide her happiness or her watery eyes.

Chapter Text

Thursday came and went with the fury of God’s own thunder. Ria’s words, not his, though he laughed when she came into his office that evening and said them. She’d find out soon enough just how protective President Bartlet was of his children. That was if there was another instance like this. He hoped there wouldn’t be, but one could never be too sure with Zoey Bartlet. Now he had Ellie to worry about, too. Though he would never admit it out loud, Ellie did have a point. As did Ria, as did Millicent. But this was a situation that Jed had to figure out himself. He did, and Leo felt glad about that. 

Ria’s words permeated his entire being, the edges beginning to soften as he considered them. Their kiss still lingered in his memory, an echo of good things to come. A phantom of a moment he felt truly at peace, and he hadn’t been able to recapture it since. But now, the halls were quiet. The cleaning ladies were working around him while the others all congregated in the cinema to watch Dial M. He wondered if Ria was there, too, or if she’d already gone home to rest after the whirlwind week she’d had. They’d yet to talk. He still had something to give her, but he could wait. At his core, he was a patient man. 

In the silence, he began to gather up his things to go back to the Watergate. His mind teemed with all the things he still needed to do. Files he needed to read. Memos he needed to sign off on. Schedules he needed to finalize. But for the first time in a long time, he left all of that on his desk, his briefcase lighter than usual when he picked it up to put his essentials inside. What would Ria think if she saw him leave it all behind? Would she have something to say that would challenge his entire thought process and make him realize just how…far he’d gotten out of touch with what he wanted? Jenny tried. He’d ignored her. Ria pried open the iron and brick of the walls around his heart. She wanted into that solid, once-beating expanse, long since abandoned for the safety of work and his more sensible mind. He toyed with letting her in, making it easy. But when was he known to make things easy? 

Leo shook his head as if jarring the very idea from his thoughts. Whatever path he found himself on, he wouldn’t go down easily. Nothing was easy in his life, he found himself musing in answer to his previous rhetorical question. Not even his relationship with someone as beautiful and confounding as Dr. Aria Brewer. He sighed, practically willing his mind to calm as he pulled on his scarf and coat. The Watergate called him. As did his bed and a nice warm shower. Get the remnants of this ridiculous week off his skin. Once in his car, he thought of returning to Anacostia and that little building with the red front door, but the pull of “home” was too strong to ignore.

Silence kept him company all the way there and all through the shower, warm water running down his skin and working the kinks from his body. He stepped out of the bathroom, a plush white robe tied around his body when a knock sounded on his door. The sound startled him. For a moment, he thought he’d imagined it, but when it echoed through the expanse of his room again, he knew he wasn’t imagining it.

His heart leaped in his chest as he swung the door open. There were about eight different scenarios in his head and none of them were Ria standing there, holding two boxes of pizza and a six-pack of root beer in glass bottles. Leo stared rather blankly, feeling a bit exposed in just his robe. Now he knew how she felt when he showed up at her place a few days prior. At least she had clothes on under the robe.

“I hope I’m not intruding.”

“No. Uh, no. Not at all.” He stood there without moving for a second too long, but when he realized what he was doing, he moved out of the way and motioned Ria inside. “Come in.” She stepped inside but patiently waited for him to shut the door behind her. “You can go ahead and get everything settled; I don’t mind.”

She placed the boxes on the coffee table in the middle of the room and elegantly sat on his sofa.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I took a guess.”

Despite still feeling exposed, he bent to open the pizza boxes, not sure what he expected, but it wasn’t—

“Pepperoni and sausage and ham and pineapple. Ria Brewer, I’m surprised you like pineapple on your pizza.”

“Guilty as charged,” she said, smiling.

At that admission, he immediately started laughing. “Noted.”

That smile on her face made his heart skip a beat. He wanted to always make her smile. He wanted to make her happy. A thought flitted across his mind. She smiled a lot, but the only time it seemed to light her up was around him. Leo marveled at how easily he’d broken into her sanctuary and tore down her barriers. As he moved to get napkins and plates from his kitchenette, he wondered if maybe she’d done the same without her fully grasping the full extent of it. Did she know just how much he was beginning to need her? 

He turned to face her after he pulled down the plates. “Do we need ice or…” He trailed off, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

She shook her head. “I got them cold.” 

Leo nodded, bringing the dishes back over to the coffee table. “I am going to get changed. You can start without me.”

Ria tried to hold back a laugh. “You’ve seen me in my robe.” 

“You had pajamas on under your robe.” 

Her face reddened. “Good point.” 

It was his turn to hold back a laugh. “I’ll be back. 

He disappeared into his bathroom, a bundle of clothes tucked under his arm. His nerves settled in his stomach. His heart pounding in his chest. Ria Brewer was in his hotel room. With pizza. And root beer. The gravity of the situation finally hit him square in his chest as he pulled on his sweater. He wasn’t ready for this. Could he do this? Yes, he could, if he didn’t think about it too much. 

Dressed–and ready for battle–he stepped back into the room. Ria had settled into the small, dark sofa, her feet tucked underneath her, holding a plate of ham and pineapple pizza, an already twisted open bottle of root beer on the table. He could barely breathe, but he steeled himself, ending up settled on the cushion beside her. Wordlessly, he grabbed his own food and began eating in the silence. 

“I’m going to have a dog with me starting in May,” she began suddenly, “Is there any paperwork I need to fill out or anything?” 

He paused, swallowing a bite of food. “I’ll have Margaret help you and Roger with that.” He paused again, taking a swig of root beer, “What’s her name?”

“Cocoa. She’s a little Cocker Spaniel. I have a picture of her on my desk.” 

“You already have her?” 

She nodded. “She’s currently staying with her trainer, but I go over there on the weekends to work with her. She’s a spunky little thing.”

“You’re taking her on the campaign?”

The campaign. The past few months have been nothing but focused on the campaign, from the Blue Ribbon Campaign to other decisions made. Hearing it spoken out loud and asking her if she’d be around for the official campaign made his stomach all aflutter with nerves and excitement.

“I have to. Roger and I don’t share a room when we travel. For appearances that benefit me as well as the campaign, and I can’t wire every hotel room with signalers. They’re bulky and I hate lugging them around.”

He regarded her curiously. “Signalers?”

“Yeah.” She paused, clearly considering how she would explain them to him. “So, they’re big, clunky, brown things that you plug into the phone and a nearby lamp. When the phone rings, the lamp flicks on and off.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have one for your office.”

She giggles. “That’s what Roger’s for. He’s basically my secretary.”

Leo took another bite of pizza. “He’s more than that.”

“Yeah, he is. He’s been a life saver.”

Leo fell quiet. He heard in the tone of her voice that those words were more than what they seemed on the surface. Roger was more than Ria’s interpreter. He’d always been more than her interpreter. After Leo had read her FBI file, it wasn’t easy to miss. Roger was Ria’s protector. He was her best friend. Her confidant. Even therapists had their own therapists and Roger was Ria’s. It explained some of the things he’d observed between them during senior staff meetings. It also explained–or didn’t–the jealousy he felt toward Roger sometimes. 

Other days, though, he simply wanted to be closer to her. Jenny broke his heart. He was strong enough to admit that. He’d married her when he was young. They both were. She’d been through a lot with him. He knew that. He fought against the memories every day; those memories were exacerbated by the daily struggle he dealt with since Ria walked into his life. Could he be good enough for this young, vibrant woman sitting beside him smelling of wildflowers and pizza with a smile that could light up the room and with a heart as big as the White House?

She grabbed another piece of pizza from the box, scaring him and making him jump a little. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she murmured.

“It’s okay. No need to apologize.” His voice was gentle as a smile spread across his lips, kind, caring.

He sucked in a breath.The butterflies from earlier returned and he tried to douse them with rootbeer.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I knew what room you were in?”

“Hmm, my FBI file?” He asked slyly. 

Ria giggled. “No.” Her brow furrowed playfully, thoughtfully. “Do I have enough clearance for your FBI file?”

“No, not quite,” he said through a laugh of his own. 

“I didn’t think so.”

“Let me guess, Margaret told you?” 

“Actually, it was the President.”

Leo tried to hold back another laugh, but it didn’t work, the sound surprising him though he knew it shouldn’t. 

“He knows about this.” 

“This? Us?” Brief alarm flashed through her eyes. 

He reached over, cupping her cheek, her thumb brushing over her skin tenderly. “It’s okay. Our secret is safe with him.” He paused for a moment, then continued with a smile. “And Abbey.” 

She took a deep breath and leaned into her touch, closing her eyes and letting out a breath. He could imagine the turmoil running through her. It was the same turmoil and worry that ran through him when the President first teased him about his interest in Ria. After a moment, he dropped his hand to gently tap on her thigh. Her eyes opened. 

“Ria, I—” But the words froze in his throat.

I adore you. You’re beautiful. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. You’re smart, funny, kindhearted. You’ve had my heart since the first time I met you. I want to try this. I want to be with you. I need you. I want you.

He couldn’t say those things to her.

She peered into his eyes. He could see the worry and apprehension. He wondered if she could see the same in him. Of course, she could. She could always read him like a book.

He tilted his head and bent down to press a kiss to her lips. His fingers brushed over her jaw and down her neck reverently. Her own hand cupped the back of his neck and pulled him closer to her, her other arm snaking around his waist. She swiped her tongue over his bottom lip and he immediately opened his mouth to her. Their tongues tangled together, and she thought he’d never been kissed like this before. Not with Jenny. Not with anyone before her, either. So full of passion and life. 

Leo could drown in her like this. She tasted like pizza and root beer and something he couldn’t put her finger on, but damn, did he love it.

She suddenly pulled back breathlessly.

“We can’t do this. We shouldn’t do this.”

It took a moment for him to regain his bearings. His hands still framed her neck so gently, his fingertips barely touching her skin. She shivered. Goosebumps raised on her arms. Meanwhile, his stomach felt like it had dropped to the floor. We shouldn’t do this. Was he pushing too hard? Was he falling too quickly? Yes, he thought bitterly to himself. He was. He was going all in on an uncertainty.

“Ria, I’m–”

“Shh.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “You don’t need to say anything. Not right now.”

Not after he ruined whatever chance they probably had together. It was for the best.

“Maybe one day…”

“Maybe. But I think you’ve already dodged enough controversy. Don’t you think?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

But it didn’t stop him from leaning forward again and capturing her mouth with his. The kiss was briefer this time, but no less passionate before he finally pulled back and pulled away from her body.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked as he delicately tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“I’d love that.”

He grabbed the remote, careful to turn on the captions before they settled on a channel showing some political thriller he’d never heard of, but she perked up and asked him to stop on it. 

“Jack loved this movie,” she said suddenly during a commercial. 

It was then Leo understood. 

He still had some walls to get through. She did, too. They would get through them together.