Spoilers: Noel, and anything prior is fair game.

Archive: Thanks to Jenny and Ruth for giving my stories a permanent home at 'Jenny's West Wing Fan Fiction Archive' and 'Banana Bars and Broken Chairs: A West Wing Love Story', respectively.

Rating: PG-13. There's some language, but nothing you wouldn't hear on the show.

Synopsis: The West Wing machine swings into action. Josh seeks the President's blessing.

Series: This story is eighth in the 'Rocky Path' series. Chronologically, it picks up where 'Damage Control' left off.

Series So Far:

Diminished Seventh 1/4

By Lacy

The phone rings only twice before I hear Mrs. Landingham's stern voice on the other side. I take a deep breath. Mrs. Landingham has never liked me. She thinks I am not serious enough. She thinks I have a tendency to be to be little too familiar with the President. She also thinks I can be something of a loose cannon.

And let's face it -- since my blow up in the Oval Office, she has considered me to be...downright dangerous.

"Oval Office," she answers. "Mrs. Landingham speaking."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Landingham," I say politely. "How are you today?"

"Josh," she says, recognizing my voice. I notice that she does not bother to return my afternoon salutations. "What do you want?"

I can tell that this is not going to be easy. "Five minutes with the President -- at his earliest convenience."

"Is this an important matter of State, Josh? The President is very busy this afternoon," she says. I know for a fact that Mrs. Landingham and Charlie Young work tirelessly to try to keep President Bartlet's schedule to a minimum on Saturday afternoons.

"No," I sigh. "This is regarding a personal matter."

"Well, then, perhaps I can work you into his schedule on Monday afternoon." Monday afternoon will be far too late.

"Have I mentioned that this personal matter could have wide-reaching implications on the reputation of the President?"

That's right, I have stooped to playing the Presidential reputation card.

"Why am I not surprised?" asks Mrs. Landingham.

"Because you don't like me, ma'am," I say.

"Don't be ridiculous, Josh. I like you fine." Why do I not believe her? Perhaps it is because her words were delivered in a flat tone of voice.

"Then why won't you let me have a cookie?" I ask. Of course, I realize that I am just being childish now.

"The cookies must be earned," she responds.

"I understand. Ma'am, I really have to speak with President Bartlet."

"Fine," she answers. "I can give you five minutes alone with the President at four o'clock."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Josh?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I heard that Donna is ill. Is she going to be all right?"

"She's going to be just fine, Mrs. Landingham. Thank you for asking."

"All right, then."

And with that, our conversation is over. I snap my cell phone shut and turn to CJ who stands beside me. We are standing at her car in the hospital parking lot. She looks at me expectantly.

"I have five minutes at four o'clock."

"She really didn't want to give it to you, did she?"

"No," I answer. "Why does that woman hate me?"

"I think it's because you referred to the President as a 'son of a bitch' during the campaign."

"Well, the First Lady got over it, why can't she?"

"You know why the First Lady never holds a grudge?"

"Why?"

"Because Mrs. Landingham does it enough for the both of them."

"Gotcha."

"So it's two o'clock, amigo. What do you want to do with the next two hours?"

"I'm going to find out when Donna's going to be released. I think we need to find out the possibilities of getting senior staff together after I speak with the President."

"You want me to talk to Sam and Toby?"

"Yeah." I say. "And can you discreetly inquire about Leo, through Margaret? I don't want him getting wind of this before I talk to the President."

"I can do that. What should I tell Margaret if she asks? Because, you know, she's going to."

"Just tell her we might need to bring Leo in on a thing."

"A thing?"

"Yeah, use those words."

"Tell me the truth, Josh -- just between us. The Fulbright Scholar thing. You faked that on your resume, right?"

"I know," I grin. "Sometimes I can't believe it either."

The smile CJ wears slowly dissolves, and I know that her mind has turned to a more serious bent. "You know this is going to take some considerable orchestrating if we want to pull this off, right? You know that?"

"Yeah." It begins to dawn on me the enormity of the situation I have stepped in. However, I still have confidence that everything is going to work out.

"Because, this could get ugly if we don't control it. You're shining a big light on your personal life. Which, professionally, I think is a really bad precedent to set." CJ continues to talk to me about the ramifications. I know that she supports me and Donna one hundred percent, but she feels it is her duty to remind me of just how bad it could turn out. That's CJ's job. She gets paid to think in terms of the worst case scenario.

"I know."

"As long as you know that. Also, I think you need to sit down and make sure you really explain that to Donna. I'm not sure she really gets it."

"She works for the White House, too, CJ. I think she gets it."

"Just, humor me. Will you?"

"Don't I always?" I smile and shrug.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"Okay."

"I'm going now," she informs me, as she motions to her car.

"You do that."

"Because I have a lot of things to do."

"Uh huh," I agree.

"A love story that needs arranging." She opens her car door.

"CJ?" I stop her.

"Yeah?"

"I just want to be clear. I don't want to spin this, okay? I just want to tell the people the truth." I look up into her eyes.

"And they'll know what to do with it?"

"Right."

"You know that goes against every bone in my body, right?"

"I know, CJ," I laugh. "Think of it as a challenge."

"It will be. I'm going."

"See you back at the office."

"You'll come see me after you talk to the President?"

"Count on it, CJ."

"Right. Bye." CJ folds her longer-than-average legs into the front seat of a car made for much shorter people. With one last wave to me, she shifts the car into gear and drives away. I am left standing alone the hospital parking lot.

TBC

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