ACT 4
INT. JOSH'S OFFICE

Lou knocked on Josh's open door. "Got a minute?"

"How's the press work going?"

"Okay," Lou said as she dropped into a chair. "We'll be fine if we get the news cycle all to ourselves."

"Yeah," Josh kept typing. "Wait, is something happening?"

"Nothing new. The first lady's statement on the trip."

"That's off," Josh said.

"Since when?"

"Lunchtime, I guess. She's staying in the residence today, spending time with the kids."

Lou shook her head. "Then it's not off, she's just off of it. Donna's gonna brief."

Josh's head snapped up. "*Donna*'s gonna brief?"

"At 2," Lou said.

Josh shook his head. "Somebody's getting that wrong."

"One of our reporters got it from a press advisory from the first lady's office. Sent out just a little while ago."

"Lou, I had a conversation with her earlier. I *told* her we needed the news cycle."

"I'm just telling you what I know," Lou said. "We can't afford to lose coverage to the first lady's humanitarian mission, Josh. If we're going to expect the Sunday shows to boot their scheduled guests to put us on, we've got to turn the story this news cycle."

Josh slumped in his chair, eyes wandering to the picture of him and Donna on his desk. "We asked them to go. We sent them as cover for Vinick to do his thing under the radar, and now that it's happened, we're like the guy who goes home with a woman on the first date and never calls. They went to this children's clinic, and…" He smiled grimly. "These missions never work out like she plans."

"What does?" Lou shrugged. "I'm running out of time, Josh."

"What would you do to keep the cycle?"

"Other than ask them to back the hell off?"

Josh nodded. "We already did that."

Lou shrugged. "All it would really take is scheduling Lester's afternoon gaggle at the same time. If we say we're releasing new information about the base, they'll pack the room. Vinick's press conference was a hit."

Josh sighed dejectedly.

"What do you want me to do, Josh?"

He cast one last look at Donna's smiling picture. "Your job," he said. "Get it done."

"They're not gonna be happy."

Josh snorted. "You think?"

CUT TO: INT. JOSH'S OFFICE, 2:15 P.M.

He was slumped over a report on his desk when the door flew open with such force it almost startled him. "You are UNBELIEVABLE!"

"Hi, honey," he said sarcastically.

"What is the MATTER with you?"

Josh got up and closed the door to hall heavily while Margaret reached in and pulled the adjoining door to her office shut.

"Don't ever do that again," he snapped. "You wanna scream and yell and call me a worthless son of a bitch? Fine. God knows I'm in no position to deny any of it. But you can't do it in front of people, Donna. You'll completely undermine me."

She pointed a finger at him. "You moved Lester's briefing to decimate any chance I had at getting any coverage!"

"Lou moved it."

"But you signed off on it."

"Yes."

"You knew I was briefing and you signed off on it."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"That's what I'm paid to do."

"Screw your girlfriend over?"

"Advance the President's agenda," he said. "We got the base; we needed the news cycle. I told you that. Who tried to screw who over here?"

"It would have killed you to share just a little bit of the spotlight with the first lady?"

His heart twisted in his chest. "The first lady couldn't care less, Donna. The President told me about Peter. This was about you."

"This was about children in Africa who--"

"This was about *you* ," he said firmly, but gently. "You cared about the children, yes, but it was about you. You're not cursed, Donna, or whatever it was you asked me when you called from the plane. You had a bad day. You're not cursed. You don't have to try to salvage something out of it."

Donna huffed. "We'll lose any hope we have for coverage this week. You'll carry this through until the Sunday shows, and by then we'll have lost our newshook."

"You'll find another one eventually," Josh said. "This is the way it happens sometimes, Donna."

"This is the way it happens EVERY time!"

The significance of the comment wasn't lost on him, but he filed it away for later. "You'd do well to take your own advice about overreacting. You had a bad day. Brush it off. Start again tomorrow."

"Who's gonna care tomorrow?" she shouted. "No one even cares that I was there! It was all for nothing!"

Josh felt his heart twist again. "Where?"

"The…" Donna blinked. "Amiir." She took a few steps backward, then turned abruptly and opened the door.

"Donna."

She turned in the hallway to face him.

"Don't you mean no one cares the first lady was there?"

Donna turned on her heel and practically sprinted away.

CUT TO: INT. HALLWAY, WEST WING

Donna navigated the corridors quickly, scooting around corners and hallway meetings with an expertise born of practice.

She slid into the press corps bullpen mostly unnoticed. Everyone was on the phone or pounding away on their keyboards. She found him behind his desk finishing up a phone call. He waved her over with a smile.

"Donna Moss," he said as he hung up the receiver. "Fancy meeting you here."

"David," she slid into his guest chair. "We missed you at the briefing this afternoon."

"Sorry about that," he said, shuffling the papers on his cluttered desk to pull out the advisory. "They moved up the afternoon gaggle."

"I know. Listen, this would be a good feature story."

"This, the first lady's thing?"

"Yeah," Donna nodded. "How would you feel about an exclusive?"

"Donna," David leaned back in his chair. "The first lady's supposed to do humanitarian missions. That's what first ladies do. Where's my newshook?"

"Medical care for children is always timely," Donna said.

"Eh…" David shook his head. "We've already done the medical angle with the HPV vaccine. I need a new hook for this one. I'm happy to do it; just call me when you've got something."

"Okay," Donna could feel her heart pounding in her ears. "Then how about this. This was my second mission abroad. Gaza was my first. How about a feature spotlight on the dangers of doing humanitarian work in unstable countries? Springboard off of me into the first lady's work at the
children's clinic."

"Gaza? Donna…"

"You were all over me for an interview when it happened, David. I thought I was gonna have to take out a restraining order." She forced a smile.

"Donna…I'd love to do the children's clinic story with you later, but…Gaza was more than two years ago. Nobody cares anymore."

CUT TO: INT. JOSH & DONNA'S APARTMENT, NIGHT

Donna was in the chair by the window when Josh opened the door. Their eyes met, but they didn't speak at first.

"You're home early," Donna said after Josh had put his things down.

He nodded. "The president went back to the residence early to be with the first lady."

Donna nodded. "God, I didn't even call her before I left to see how things were."

"They don't know anything more. I think they just need to huddle up, figure out what they're doing."

Donna swallowed hard. "I apologize…*immensely*…for shouting at you at the office today.

Josh put his hands in his pockets. "No harm done. If necessary, I'm pretty sure Margaret will put herself between me and danger."

Donna quirked a corner of her mouth up. "That was inappropriate of me."

"Yes, it was."

She met his eyes again. "Yes, it was."

He went to the kitchen and began filling a Ziplock bag with ice. "Do you know where the wheels came off the wagon?"

"When I decided to do battle with the master?"

"When you decided you were the story." He settled himself on the ottoman in front of her and motioned for her to undo her wrist brace. "This isn't like the campaign, Donna. The first lady ceases to be the story when the president walks in the room."

"I know." She winced as he settled the ice on her wrist.

"It looks a little better, I think."

"Yeah." Donna closed her eyes. "You ever get this feeling, when you look back on your behavior earlier in the day, and...you're not exactly mortified yet, but you sense mortification creeping up on you from behind, and you wish like hell you could outrun it?"

"Every time I talk to a member of Congress."

She gave him a polite smile. "I cannot believe some of the things that came out of my mouth today. Not just to you." She pulled a hand across her eyes. "You weren't kidding when you said I was having a bad day."

Josh took a deep breath. "You know what we didn't talk about last night?"

"What?"

"That this was the second close call for you. We both thought about it, but we studiously avoided mentioning it, what with my tendency to overreact and your insistence that you're always fine."

Donna breathed out slowly. "I'm not fine."

"I know."

"I've tried and tried for the past two years to tell myself that what happened in Israel had some greater purpose. I've tried using it as an impetus to change myself, to change my career. I've tried to prove myself worthy of this cosmic second chance I've been given. The fact of the matter is, sometimes, these things just happen. Sometimes it's for nothing." She propped her chin in her hand. "I didn't want to let that thought in, but I can't ignore it anymore. And I'm not fine with it."

"It was *not* for nothing," Josh said, leaning forward on the ottoman and pulling her knees between his. "Gaza, much as I would have spared you that if I could have, set a lot of different things in motion that needed to happen, Donna. Putting aside for a moment the historic deal that the President brokered in its aftermath, you've completely reinvented yourself in the last couple of years. And the first lady's presence in Amiir gave Vinick the cover he needed to get the job done. I'm sorry you didn't get the credit after it was over, but we couldn't have done it without you. That was not a job for a rookie. We needed someone with some experience. That was you."

"I just wish I knew why *I* was the bad luck charm on these missions."

Josh rubbed a thumb back and forth across her knee. "Listen, this...this was so similar to last time, it's bound to throw you for a loop. A big one. It's bound to throw ANYBODY for a loop. If you wanted to talk--"

"I am talking." She furrowed her brow at him.

"I mean to someone else."

"I'm talking to you."

"But maybe you would feel better talking--"

"Would *you* feel better if I talked to someone else?"

"Y--no, I mean, of course I'm happy for you to talk to me, but I'm just saying in addition…" he trailed off, dreading the prospect of another shouting match. "I'm sorry. What was it you were saying?"

"Just that I have bad luck, especially when it comes to car rides in foreign countries that…" A dark look crossed her face.

"What?"

"Maybe...maybe I remembered something."

"*What?*" Josh whispered.

"I thought it was a dream...it happened on the plane, on the way back. I thought it was just, you know, a little nightmare, but--"

"You're having nightmares now?"

"Just a little...a thing on the plane." She sat forward, trying to recall the image that startled her out of a light sleep the previous evening. "Is that what it was?" she whispered to herself. "Not a dream? A memory. "

Josh swallowed the rapidly forming lump in his throat. "What was it?"

That seemed to pull her from her reverie, and he could see her try to mentally rewind to start from the beginning.

"We were in the car, and I slid out of my seatbelt…when I hurt my wrist."

Josh blinked at the sudden time shift. "Yeah…"

"We hit a bump. I don't know, ran up on a curb or something. And everything went flying, including me, and…I don't know, I was a little preoccupied because my wrist was killing me, but something started eating at me, gnawing at the back of my mind…" She trailed off and turned her face toward the window again, seemingly engrossed in the Georgetown traffic on the street outside. "I thought it was just nerves, but I slept a little on the plane ride back, and it wasn't until then that…"

"Donna," he prompted gently.

"I have never remembered any of it. Gaza. The car ride …I was interviewed twice by the FBI, and I was never able to remember anything more than bits and pieces from the stop at the checkpoint, all a substantial length of time before the accident." She closed her eyes. "I was in the backseat, the agents told me that when they interviewed me, but…I don't know what we were talking about when it happened, but I think I was saying something and then, all of a sudden, I felt a bump underneath us. A big one. Big enough to lift us off the ground. I mean, more than a little. It felt like we were way off the..." she knit her brows together as she stared, unseeing, into space. "I think maybe the car flipped."

Josh watched her, his heart pounding in his chest.

She moved her eyes to his. "Did the car flip?"

He weighed his options for answering, but eventually nodded. "You were wearing your seatbelt, which was one of the…the doctor told me that was one of the things that saved you, it..." he took a shaky breath and dropped his eyes to the floor, "minimized the head trauma when the car turned over."

Donna clapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head a little. "They screamed," she said softly. "We came up off the ground, and everyone screamed. I think I screamed too."

Josh swallowed hard.

"It's just…it's like a second. Just a flash. I'd never remembered that until last night. And now," she shook her head, "I can't remember any more."

"That's probably a good thing."

She looked into his eyes earnestly. "What do you know?"

"Some," Josh admitted. "Not all."

"Will you tell--"

"I don't want to talk about this," he laughed bitterly, his defense mechanisms kicking in.

"I do."

He met her eyes again. "Then you should. To someone who has the know-how to--"

"I don't want to talk about it like that, Josh, I just...I never remembered anything before, and I--"

"Donna." He dropped his head into his hands. "I think maybe one big revelation is plenty for one day. Ahkay?"

She leaned her head close to his. "Why don't you want to talk about it?"

He lifted his head. "Because I spent several days in hell. I came through it, but…Donna, I don't like to even *think* about it, much less…" He raked his hands through his hair. "Imagine the worst thing you've ever lived through in your life. And then imagine reliving it. I can't. Not looking into your face, not…when I think about what could've…what *almost*-- I don't want to let *that* in, Donna."

His body language drew her full attention toward him. She scooted forward, and smoothed his ruffled hair with her hand. "Know what else we didn't talk about last night?"

Josh shook his head, eyes downcast.

"Second close call for me. Second bad scare for you."

He looked up, his face inches from hers. He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips before pulling her close and burying his face in her hair. "My best attempts at being devoted to you often manifest themselves as an almost psychotic possessiveness that has the opposite of the desired effect."

She slid her hand out from under the ice pack and wrapped both arms around his shoulders. "It's the thought that counts."

"It is?" She felt him smile into her shoulder.

"Absolutely."

"'Kay, then, last night, when I was making your life harder…" he pulled back to look at her.

"You were thinking nice things?" She played the game.

He nodded.

"Such as?"

"That I missed you?"

"That's good."

He grinned. "That I worried about you."

"That's nice."

He brought her uninjured hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. "That I love you."

She leaned forward quickly and kissed him. "Then love me," she whispered.

CUT TO: INT. WHITE HOUSE RESIDENCE BEDROOM, NIGHT

"Helen, your not sleeping isn't going to do him any good."

"What do you suppose will?"

"I don't know yet. We need to wait until we know what we're dealing with."

"I'm sorry if I don't have your uncanny ability to turn my worry off at will."

"Hey," he sat up against the headboard beside her. "That is the second time today you've insinuated that I love our kids less than you do. I'm every bit as worried as you are, I'm every bit as guilty as you are, I'm every bit as scared blind, but I don't know what good we're going to be to either of them if we both go nuts."

Helen looked at him. "I never meant to insinuate that."

"Your comment about not having time for 'the fatherhood thing' anymore not withstanding."

Her face broke, and she laid her head on his shoulder. "God, I'm sorry, Matt."

He wrapped his arms around her. "We're gonna figure it out. We always do."

Helen was silent for a long moment. "I didn't realize we'd have so little time together as a family."

"Neither did I."

"Is this what you thought it was gonna be?"

Santos squeezed her tighter. "No."

"Me either."

CUT TO: INT. JOSH AND DONNA'S BEDROOM

"God," she drawled.

He pulled her closer to him. "I know."

"Let's never, *ever* fight instead of doing that."

"Mmm," Josh mumbled his agreement.

She fell silent for a moment. "You know what you told me once?"

Josh pulled himself back from the edge of slumber. "I've told you many things once."

"And more than once," she turned in his arms to tuck herself tighter against his side. "But you said something once about the things we let in. That those are the things that get under our skin, the itches we have to scratch. Those are the reasons we get things done. Maybe we *should* ignore them, and maybe it would be less painful to keep them at arm's length, but in the end, we're better off for letting them in."

Josh stared at the ceiling. "Sometimes I just say things to make you think I'm deep."

Donna dropped a feather-light kiss on his chest. "I can actually tell the difference. This wasn't one of them." She ran her fingers over his ribs. "I should try to let things in more. I don't know when I got out of that habit."

"You let in plenty," Josh said. "Or have you forgotten the world you're single-handedly trying to save? You're already eradicating cervical cancer and making sure kids everywhere have access to computers, and in your spare time, you're gonna make sure every child in the third world has medical
care."

Donna scoffed. "I didn't do very much today."

"What did I tell you?"

"Start again tomorrow."

Josh glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "Hey, look at that."

"What?"

"What time is it?" Josh asked.

Donna squinted at the clock. "12:04."

"Well, what do you know," Josh pretended to muse. "It is tomorrow."

FADE TO BLACK