ACT FOUR
INT. JOSH'S APARTMENT
FRIDAY NIGHT

"Dinner was delicious, Judith," Donna said as she started clearing the dishes off the table. "I can't believe you cooked all this."

"Really, Mom," Josh said. He took the plates out of Donna's hands and took them to the kitchen. "We could have gone out to eat. Or, you know, called Papa John's."

"Indulge me," his mother replied. She followed Josh into the kitchen and picked up a plate of cookies.
"It's not often I get to cook for my family these days."

"Right," Josh laughed. "Like you and Dad never ordered takeout for us."

"This is my point," Judith replied as she set the cookies on the coffee table. "Working couples don't have enough free time to prepare home-cooked meals every night. I thought I could treat the two of you tonight."

"Well, I, for one, am grateful," Donna replied. She took a seat on the couch, slipped her shoes off, and sighed. "I've been on my feet all day. It's wonderful to come home to good food and a house that smells like chocolate chips." She took a bite of a cookie and closed her eyes, savoring the taste.
"These are fabulous."

"I'm glad you like them, dear," Judith said.

Josh sat down by Donna's side. Without thinking, he began gently rubbing her foot. "I've got an idea,
Mom," he said. "You could move to DC and come over and cook for us every night."

"I've got a better idea," his mother replied. "I could go back home and not be at my son's beck and call."

"Hey, it was worth a try," Josh said with a shrug.

Judith grinned, her eyes focused on the tender way he was rubbing Donna's feet. "You know, son, I never thought I would see you so...content."

Donna noticed the way Judith was looking at them and squeezed on Josh's arm, signaling him that maybe they should stop being quite so content in front of his mother. "Josh," she asked, "wasn't there something you wanted to tell Judith?"

"Huh?" he asked.

"What we discussed last night," Donna reminded him.

"Yeah. Right." Josh cleared his throat and began, "So, Mom, I was kind of surprised yesterday when youmentioned your new friend..."

"His name is Nicholas, dear." Judith Lyman took a sip of tea and tried to hide the fact that she was smiling. Like his father, Josh had never been very good at apologies. He tended to avoid the subject as long as possible and finally just keep talking until something that sounded vaguely like "I'm sorry" came out of his mouth.

"Yeah," Josh said, "him." He glanced at Donna, sitting next to him on the couch, as though he hoped that she would take over and make the apology for him. Instead, she just smiled serenely and patted his hand. "I guess he must be okay if *you* like him."

"He is," Judith said. "And I like him very much indeed."

Josh grimaced, as though that was too much information.

"Anyway, Mom," he continued, "I never want you to be unhappy. And I just wanted to tell you that it's okay with me if you want to date this guy."

"You know, son," Judith replied, "I don't recall asking for your permission." This time she couldn't hide her laughter as she and Donna exchanged amused glances.

Josh, obviously frustrated, ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it, Mom," he said, "I'm trying to take the high road here!"

"I appreciate the effort," she said with a smile, "but you can try just a little harder."

"If it helps, Judith," Donna said, grinning, "the two of us had a long talk about it last night and he really does get it."

"Oh, I knew he'd understand eventually," Judith replied. "But he's so much like Noah; he has to have his little blow-up and *then* reason everything out."

"Hey!" Josh said. "I'm still in the room, you know." He smiled at his mother and added, "Although if the
worst thing you can say about me is that I'm like Dad, I guess I'm doing okay."

Judith walked over to her son and kissed his cheek. "You're more than okay, Joshua."

Her son, one of the most powerful men in the country, was blushing in response to her simple compliment. "Well, you know," he said, "I just want you to be happy. And I guess I should meet this guy. Nicholas. I should meet Nicholas."

"Good," Judith said, "I'll bring him along to Claudia Jean's wedding."

"Great," Josh groaned. "Cause if there's one thing I'm looking forward to, it's CJ giving me a hard time
because my mother is dating."

CUT TO:
INT. OVAL OFFICE
SATURDAY MORNING

"There's an interesting story in the Post this morning, sir," Josh said.

"Is there?" Matt Santos replied as he glanced at the day's schedule. He motioned for Josh to take a seat. "What about?"

"Anita Morales," Josh replied. "It seems she talked to a reporter named Maisie Harlow."

The President repeated the name. "I don't think I've met her."

"No, sir, she's not part of the White House press corps. In fact, this is her first big story. Until recently, she was working as a researcher, mostly for Danny Concannon."

"Is that so?" Matt Santos smiled. "Isn't he marrying CJ Cregg?"

"As a matter of fact, CJ called earlier this week to invite Donna and me to the wedding. Interesting timing, don't you think?"

"Because CJ's fiance's former researcher was contacting Anita? Stranger things have happened."

"Yes, sir." Josh grinned. "By the way, aren't you interested in what Ms. Morales told The Post?"

"Knowing Anita, I'm sure she simply told the truth."

"Yes, she did." Josh's grin turned into a full-dimpled smile. "And now the cable news networks are all quoting The Post article."

"Well, that's the beauty of a free press," the President said. "Eventually, the truth does come out."

Josh motioned in the direction of his office. "I have a senior staff meeting. Is there anything else you
need, sir?"

Shaking his head, the President dismissed Josh. After Josh left, Matt Santos started to read to read The Post. He smiled to himself at the complicated maneuvering they'd gone through in getting the free press to work properly. "From Donna and Helen to CJ Cregg and Danny Concannon to Maisie Harlow to Anita," he muttered. He looked up to see Ronna standing by his desk.

"Is there something I need to sign?" he asked.

Ronna shook her head. "No, sir," she said. "There's something I need to give you."

He stared in surprise at the letter of resignation she handed to him. "What is this about?" he asked.

"There's a magazine article coming out about it, and it says some things about my personal life."

President Santos looked at her with concern. "Such as?" he asked.

"I'm gay."

"I knew that already. What else?"

"I've been in a relationship for a few months with Claire Carrick."

"Carrick?" he asked. "Is she any relation to Chris Carrick?"

"Yes, sir, she's his daughter," Ronna replied. She took a deep breath. "And she was the one who told the magazine that the President's personal secretary is a lesbian."

"And this is why you want to resign? Because your girlfriend—"

"Former girlfriend," Ronna corrected him.

"Because she told the press that you're gay?" Santos picked up the letter and tore it in half. "That's not a good enough reason to resign," he told her.

"Sir, I don't want my sexuality to be an issue," Ronna insisted. "I don't want it to be another distraction that the Right uses to keep you from accomplishing something while you're in office. I really think the best course is for me to resign."

"I disagree. I don't think it's a distraction," the President said. "Whether I'm the father of Anita's child, that's a distraction; it's gossip masquerading as news. But if the Right wants to make an issue out of my hiring you, I'm more than willing to fight them. The last time I checked, I was elected to serve as president for all Americans—not just straight Americans. I've known you longer than anyone else on my staff, Ronna, and you're the best person for the job. Who you love is your own business."
Ronna blushed. "Thank you, sir."

"And, Ronna, whenever you feel comfortable enough with a woman to introduce her to me, I would love to meet her." He smiled and added, "Even if her father is a Republican."

CUT TO:
INT. RONNA'S APARTMENT
SATURDAY EVENING

Ronna threw her keys on the table and switched on the television. She grimaced as she saw who Larry King's guest was.

"Joining us tonight," King said, "is Senator Chris Carrick, whose journey from moderate Democrat to conservative Republican is the subject of his new book 'A Party of the Elite.' Good evening, Senator."

Claire's father smiled into the camera. "Good evening, Larry," he said, "and let me start the program off by correcting you. I may have found a home in the Republican party, but I still consider myself a moderate."

"Senator," King said, "before we discuss your book, I have to ask you about your daughter Claire. As you know, wire reports today are quoting a magazine article that claims she is gay."

Carrick looked into the camera again, this time wearing the expression of a concerned father. Ronna
wondered how many hours he'd taken to perfect that look.

"Larry," he said, "I love Claire very much. Like any father, I only want the best for my child, and I'm
saddened to find that she's chosen a lifestyle that can only bring her pain. But, you know, if there's
one thing I've learned in my own political odyssey, it's that people can and do change for the better.
That's what's really at the heart of my new book A Party of the Elite, and it's the message I want to
bring to the American people."

Ronna muttered a few profanities under her breath and switched off the television. She was pouring herself a glass of wine when the phone rang. Afraid that it might be a reporter, she let the answering machine pick it up.

"Are you there?" Claire's voice was as clear as if she were standing next to Ronna. "You can't still be mad. Look, even if you are, pick up the phone. Or if you're not there, call me when you get in. I...Look, Ronna, what I'm saying is that I love you. I never meant to hurt you. Just please talk to me, will you?"

Ronna closed her eyes and tried to fight back the tears. As the answering machine shut off, the wine
glass slipped out of her hand, shattering against the floor.

FADE TO BLACK