Disclaimers: I own nothing, I’m making nothing… these wonderful characters were created by Aaron Sorkin and belong to Sorkin, Wells and NBC. I’m just taking them out for a spin and will return when I’ve finished with them. Although I’ve got first dibs with Josh under the mistletoe, okay?

Being anally retentive about that sort of thing, I proofed it myself, so any mistakes are mine!

Category/Pairing: Josh/Donna (of course!), plus a few special guests… fantasy, angst, fluff, but definitely AU and completely round the bend. And don’t forget the mush. It’s Christmas!

Spoilers: Up to Impact Winter, S6 – after that, you’re on your own!

Originally posted between 17 and 21 December 2007


Well, it is done and I did it. For all I said “never again” after last year’s Christmas Extravaganza, the plot bunny visited me early this year and this is the result.

Any similarities you may spot to a well known Christmas favourite are, of course completely intentional; do I hear cries of Bah, Humbug! from the back??

And yes, I’ve been mean, I admit it! But you know I’d never do these guys any permanent damage, right?

A/N 2: I’m dedicating this one to quaggy_mire. She was in at the beginning and helped me to sort out the mess in my head so I could get started – but unfortunately, wasn’t able to cross the finish line with me this time around because of other commitments. She’s had a bit of a crappy time of it lately, and I hope that if she’s reading this, there are bits of it at least that will make her smile!

Also – the biggest THANK YOU and sloppiest smoochies I can muster go out to coloneljack who has been so amazingly helpful and supportive throughout the gestation of this monster, and to zinke for her help and encouragement – you wouldn’t believe what they’ve had to put up with from me - they deserve medals!

(If you want to read Josh’s version, Josh’s Holiday Carol by akalettucehead can be found here.)



Oh, and by the way? That rumbling noise you can hear is Charles Dickens turning in his grave…






Keeping the Spirit - Part One





When the phone started ringing late on Christmas Eve, Donna couldn’t help the lurch at the pit of her stomach and brutally squashed the small sliver of hope that had set her heart beating a little faster in her chest. Berating herself for her stupidity and telling herself not to be so pathetic and needy, she forced herself to stand still, arms folded tightly as she glared down at the phone, waiting until she heard the soft click and beep as the machine picked up the call.

“Donna, honey? Are you there?”

She shook her head. Of course it wouldn’t be him. Never in a million years would he even think of calling to apologize, or to talk – and especially not to ask her to come back.

Donna was tempted to do as she’d done the day before and let her mother leave a message, but her conscience wouldn’t let her do that - so with a heavy sigh, she reached for the receiver.

“Hi, mom.”

“Oh, you’re there.”

Obviously.

Donna rolled her eyes and fought back a sarcastic retort. “Yeah, I’m here. I was just…” she eyed the remnants of the lasagna of which she’d forced herself to eat a little earlier, “doing the dishes. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, honey. You haven’t called for a while, and I missed you yesterday, so I… I just thought I’d try again - you know, see how you are.”

Donna flopped down onto the sofa. “I’m fine,” she sighed.

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I am. I’m just… tired, that’s all.”

Marjorie didn’t reply and Donna bristled at the implied criticism. “What? I’m fine, honestly. Just tired – and the cold makes my leg ache sometimes.”

“Donna.” Her mother sighed at the other end of the line. “You haven’t seemed like – well, like yourself the last few times we’ve talked. I’m just concerned about you, that’s all. It’s been a… you’ve had a tough time and – I’m just - ” she cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to pry or anything, but are you sure you’re okay?”

Donna could feel herself becoming exasperated. She loved her mother – really she did – and they’d always had a good relationship, but ever since Gaza, Donna had started to feel as though she was being suffocated. It seemed that Marjorie never believed her these days when Donna said she was fine, and she was getting tired of saying the same thing every time they spoke. And adding to her unease was the knowledge that she’d have to tell her mother what she’d done sooner or later, and she was dreading the interrogation which would surely follow her news. She’d hoped to put it off until after Christmas; with any luck, she’d have found a new job by then, and would be able to divert her mother’s curiosity onto that, rather than having to endure the inevitable questioning about the one she’d left. But her mother had already sensed that something was up and Donna knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t be allowed to finish this conversation without offering an explanation.

“Mom, I’m fine. Really. I’ve just been busy, that’s all.”

Her mother chuckled softly. “In that job, you’re rarely anything else.”

Donna allowed herself a small smile. “True.” She paused. This was it. “But, well … you know I’ve been feeling a little, I don’t know – restless - for a while?”

“I know you said you were trying to get Josh to give you a promotion or more responsibility or something.”

“Yeah,” Donna said quickly, needing to get this over with, “well that didn’t work out. So,” she took a deep breath in anticipation of the negative comment she was sure would be forthcoming. “I quit.”

Her mother seemed to have been stunned into silence. Donna picked absently at some non-existent lint on her pant leg while she waited for her to speak. Eventually, Marjorie said, “I’m sorry, dear. What do you mean you quit?”

“I mean I left, mom.”

“You left Josh?”

Donna sat bolt upright. “No! Why does everyone ask me that?” She recalled Ginger’s having the exact same reaction when she’d told her she was leaving. “I quit my job!”

“I’m sorry dear,” her mother said again. “I didn’t mean to… but you have to admit, your job has been pretty much tied up with Josh these last eight years – the pair of you have been – well, not exactly inseparable, but - ”

“Well, it’s different, okay?” she snapped. “I’ve left my job and I’ve started looking for something else. Something better, something where I’ll be able to grow professionally and show what I’m really capable of.”

“Oh.” Despite her mother’s upbeat tone, Donna could tell she was somewhat taken aback. “Well… good for you.”

Donna jumped up off the sofa and started to pace around the room, ignoring the sudden twinge in her thigh. “Honest to God, mom! - could you sound a little happier for me?”

“I’m sorry – it’s just a bit – unexpected, that’s all. Not to mention sudden; I mean you haven’t said - ”

“Actually, it’s not at all sudden,” Donna interrupted. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks – months, maybe.”

“Really? You never said – ” Donna heard her mother take a deep breath. “So what did Josh say when you told him?”

“Nothing. Well, he told me I couldn’t quit, but other than that - ”

“Hang on,” her mother’s tone had taken on a no-nonsense quality all of a sudden, “you didn’t talk to him about it?”

“What was there to talk about? I wanted to do more, he wouldn’t listen, so - ”

“I’m sorry, Donna – let me get this straight.” Donna could feel the resentment rising in her like bile, feeling suddenly as though she was a naughty child being given a stern talking-to, rather than a mature woman who had finally taken control of her own destiny. “You just walked out, after nearly eight years – without even talking to him about it?”

Donna let out a deep breath in an effort to calm herself. “Mom, I’ve been trying to talk to Josh for weeks, and he’s blown me off every time. Seriously, he’s a master at not talking about things he doesn’t want to talk about. You have no idea what he can be like - ”

“No, I don’t. But I got to know him a little when you – in Germany,” her mother said, carefully. “Oh, I’m not saying we’re best friends or anything like that, but … well, it was clear from the way he talked about you that he thinks very highly of you.”

Donna sat down again. “Well, he’s got a funny way of showing it.”

“Maybe he has.” Her mother’s voice was steely. “Because clearly, he flew half way around the world when you were hurt just to make sure he’d still have someone to type his memos and answer his phone.”

Donna couldn’t disguise her annoyance any longer. “Pretty much, yes, that’s exactly what he did. And I can’t believe you’re taking his side - ”

“I’m not taking sides, Donna! I’m just trying to understand what’s going on, and all I’m saying is that he obviously cares about you.”

“Well, ‘obviously’ to everyone except me.”

“What on earth..?”

“Maybe if he’d made it clear just how,” Donna paused, unable to contain her anger; she was shaking as she spat out, “valuable he found me before, I would have found myself another job long ago instead of wasting my time - ”

“Donna!” Her mother sounded shocked. “How can you possibly think that you’ve wasted your time in that job? You work at the White House, for goodness’ sake!”

Donna sucked in a shaky breath. “That’s not what I - ” she swallowed. “Look. I know you like Josh, but you don’t know what he’s really like, what’s happened these past few months.”

“No? Then why don’t you tell me?”

“I can’t. It’s – complicated. I just – I just figured out a few things, and … ” Donna sighed, feeling suddenly deflated. “You know what? I don’t really think I want to talk about this any more. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed in me, Mom, but - ”

“Oh, darling,” her mother said hastily, “of course I’m not disappointed in you, I could never be that. As long as it’s what you want – as long as you’re sure you’re doing the right thing …”

“Yeah…” Donna breathed, admitting to herself for possibly the hundredth time that day that she wasn’t sure about either of those things.

The silence that followed weighed heavily in the air. Then Donna spoke again, changing the subject with the hope that the note of brightness she was trying desperately to inject into her voice would be enough to satisfy her mother that she was confident that she was, indeed, doing the right thing.

“Okay. So, I’ll see you on the twenty-sixth.”

“Oh, good.” Donna could tell her mother wasn’t buying anything – but was at least relieved that she’d followed the lead and accepted the change of subject. “You managed to get a flight.”

“A late one, but yes, I did. Sorry I couldn’t get something earlier, but it was all there was.” Donna winced at the lie – there had been flights available earlier in the day – and even some before Christmas - but she hadn’t wanted to be home for too long and had opted instead for the latest one she could get away with.

She really didn’t know for just how long she’d be able to keep up the charade in front of her family that everything was fine, that she was well and happy, that she was her “old” self, when underneath it all she was heartsick, miserable… and angry.

There was always anger these days, bubbling just below the surface. Anger about what had happened to her, anger at herself for all the time she’d wasted waiting for something which was never going to happen, anger at Josh for – oh, innumerable things. Sometimes she managed to keep it under wraps - sometimes not -

I used to love peppermint ice cream too, but now, those little pieces of candy? They get stuck in my teeth in a way that I find irritating.

- and when she did give into it, it had usually been Josh who had borne the brunt of it.

But she refused to feel guilty about that. He had, after all, been holding her back for years. She thought she was entitled to a degree of resentment.

Now though, she was determined to keep all that under wraps. She was going to maintain a professional, self-possessed exterior – and the last thing she needed was to be spending time with people who knew her well enough to see past the façade she was still busily constructing.

“That’s okay, honey,” her mother said quietly, and Donna could practically feel her disappointment. “I understand.”

No, mom, you really don’t.

How could Marjorie understand what her daughter was going through when Donna wasn’t sure she fully understood it herself? The revelation of her own, willful blindness still stung - even now - and the one thing of which she was certain was that she couldn’t go back to the way things had been. Even if it meant practicing a small deception on the people who knew her best.

Pushing the thought aside, Donna cleared her throat. “Dad’s okay to pick me up from the airport?”

“Yes,” she could hear the resignation in her mother’s voice. “Or Thomas said he would.”

“Great. Well… ” Donna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “I’d… uh, better get back to the dishes.”

“Oh. Okay. Well – see you in a couple of days.”

Donna forced a smile, even though there was no one there to see it. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

The pause that followed was slightly too long – but Donna’s mother clearly thought better of whatever it was she’d been about to say, because all she said was, “Me too. I’ll call tomorrow, but Merry Christmas, anyway.”

“Thanks, mom. You, too. See you soon.”

“Bye, dear.”

Donna ended the call, tossed the phone to one side and rubbed her hands over her face. That had gone pretty much as she’d expected – although she had to admit she’d hoped her mother would have been more supportive. Donna had expected her to express surprise at her decision to leave her job, and perhaps even to ask if she was sure she’d made the right decision, but to have actually taken her to task about how she’d treated Josh … well that was unfair.

Of course, her mother’s opinion of Josh had skyrocketed since Germany. Not that she’d had anything against him before; the few times they’d met in the time Donna had been working for him, he’d been utterly charming (despite being unable to resist making the odd crack about cheese), but since her – accident - Marjorie seemed to have been harboring the mistaken impression that Josh’s actions in flying out there spoke of more than mere friendship towards her daughter. Donna had, of course, done her best to disabuse her mother of that notion, but she nonetheless got the feeling that the idea hadn’t been completely dismissed.

She looked over at the dim glow cast by the lights twinkling on the small Christmas tree standing in the corner of the room. Why had it been such a shock to people that she would leave her job? Sure, she’d been there a long time, but everyone had to move on sometime, didn’t they? And what was so wrong about her wanting to better herself? She’d come a long way since she’d started working for Josh, she knew, but since the night of the lockdown, she’d come to realize that for the last year or two she’d been doing little but treading water - and that Josh wasn’t at all interested in helping her to further her career.

Donna tucked her legs up under her on the sofa. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so miserable, so – empty. And she really shouldn’t feel like that, not now. She’d taken action, taken control and was determined to find herself a new job, one that would offer her more opportunities and more potential for professional development than the one she’d left. She should be celebrating. She should be happy. But she was far from happy and celebrating was the last thing on her mind.

She picked up the phone from where she’d dropped it earlier and sat, staring at it for a few seconds, then got up and put it back on her desk.

Damn him.

He hadn’t even tried to contact her. And Donna was furious at the small part of her that was still hoping he would. But she knew that really wasn’t Josh’s style. The man who could walk into a room of hostile congressmen and not bat an eyelid was hopeless when it came to personal confrontations. His usual manner of dealing with such situations was to ignore them in the hope they’d go away. Donna snorted bitterly as she sat down again. After three weeks of ignoring her, he’d got what he wanted – she’d gone away. Although knowing Josh, he hadn’t taken her seriously and had been expecting her to show up for work the following morning.

Which would have been when he’d discovered his mistake.

Donna squashed down the feelings of guilt that were beginning to surface. Josh had brought this upon himself. She’d done her best, she’d tried to warn him, to get him to see that she was serious about wanting to do more, but he’d refused to listen. So when he’d arrived to find a temp at her desk – well, he had no one to blame for that but himself.

But… this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to have talked to Josh about her decision calmly and rationally, explained that she needed to move on, thanked him properly for everything he’d done for her – and perhaps, somehow they’d have found a way to remain friends at least, possibly even -

Donna let out a bitter laugh. What on earth was she thinking? CJ’s words that night months ago -

It’s not the White House. It’s him.

- had been echoing in her head almost daily since they’d been spoken, and while Donna had done her absolute best to deny it, even to herself – now, sitting on the sofa in her darkened apartment, with nothing to gain by denial or evasion – she admitted – not for the first time - that CJ had been right on the money. Donna had remained in her job for far longer than she should have because of Josh. Because she liked working for him. Because she liked him. Because she loved him.

She could feel tears pricking at her eyes, but she wasn’t going to let them fall. That wasn’t who she was any more – that naïve girl, so transparently devoted to a man who would never feel the same way. It was a couple of years late, but she was moving on, determined to build her own career, and she supposed she should feel grateful that the veil had at last fallen from her eyes. That she had finally been able to see that Josh’s desire to keep her with him had nothing to do with her as a person, and everything to do with the fact that she was a damn good assistant and that he’d have trouble finding anyone else who could do the job half as well and who would be able to put up with him; with his moods and his unreasonable demands.

Unreasonable?

Donna shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to start feeling nostalgic or looking back through rose-tinted glasses. Josh was nothing if not mercurial – his temper was evil on the rare occasions when he really lost it, and there had been times when he’d treated her like little more than a maid. Where in her job description had it said she was supposed to pack his bags or make sure he didn’t run out of clean shirts?

But then again, he’d never actually asked her to do any of that. She’d just fallen naturally into the habit of making sure he had everything he needed for a trip and that he had some clean clothes at the office. After the incident with the fishing-waders, she’d decided not to leave anything to chance.

Still, Josh had never stopped her from doing those things, either. She supposed she could at least blame him for that – that he’d gotten so used to all the things she did for him that he’d taken them – and her – for granted. She huffed in annoyance as she picked up the remote and switched on the TV. She wasn’t going to think about him any more. She’d spent enough time thinking about Josh and about her past - now it was time to start looking towards the future. Although for now, she’d settle for something to make her feel a little less miserable. Idly, she began clicking through the channels – and stopped when she stumbled across one of her favorite movies. It must have started a while ago, because George Bailey was offering to lasso the moon for Mary, but Donna settled down to watch, nonetheless. She swung her legs up onto the sofa, pummeled a couple of cushions up against the arm and pulled down the afghan from the back, snuggling down until she was comfortable. If It’s a Wonderful Life couldn’t get her out of her funk and into the spirit of Christmas, then she didn’t know what could.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~


Donna woke and sat up slowly, pulling the afghan around her for warmth. She’d fallen asleep and left the television on – George was running through the snow yelling Merry Christmas! to Bedford Falls, so she’d been asleep for well over an hour. She found the remote control under a cushion and clicked the television off, then rolled her head from side to side – she had a kink in her neck from where she’d been lying at an awkward angle and -

Peering into the darkness, Donna felt a sudden chill run up and down her spine. Something didn’t feel right. The only light in the room was coming from the Christmas tree, although she was sure there had been a lamp on earlier. She let her eyes adjust to the gloom and then looked around, her gaze finally falling on the small desk on the other side of the room. In front of the desk was a chair, and in the chair, partly illuminated by the small colored lights on the tree, sat ...

Donna jumped up from the sofa with an astonished cry.

The figure in the chair smiled wryly up at her. “Hello, dear.”

Donna took a step backwards, then another, still unable to make a sound, as she stumbled over to the nearest lamp and switched it on, squinting at the sudden diffusion of light.

“Do you need to sit down?”

Donna could do nothing but stare. She could feel her mouth opening and closing, but couldn’t form anything remotely approaching a coherent sound.

The interloper spoke again. “Oh, dear. I know it’s been a long time, but -”

Donna finally found her voice. “Mrs… Landingham?”

“Well, at least you haven’t forgotten me.”

“Forgotten you? How could I possibly forget – no, wait a minute. This is – this is impossible, I mean, you – you’re - ”

“Dead?”

Donna nodded vigorously.

Mrs Landingham looked at her over the top of her glasses. “Well, yes, I am, but you don’t need to concern yourself with that.”

Donna finally shook herself out of her stunned stupor. “I don’t need to..?” she croaked in disbelief, rubbing her eyes.

“No. There are other things you should be - ”

“But – but you can’t be here!” Donna interrupted wildly, waving a hand around in front of her.

“Well, obviously I am, dear.”

“No – you’re not. You can’t be – I went to your funeral; it was raining and I remember the President asked me - ” Donna checked herself. “No. I must still be asleep. Yes, that’s it, I’m asleep and I’m dreaming.”

Mrs Landingham shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Donna sat down on the sofa. “I’m going to go back to sleep, and when I wake up again, you won’t be here.”

“If you think that’s best.”

“Okay.” Donna lay down again and pulled the afghan up to her chin. “Right.” She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She was tired and upset. The last few days had been pretty nerve-wracking and she supposed that exhaustion could play strange tricks on the mind. Yes. That was it. She let her breathing even out …

… but she couldn’t go back to sleep. Nonetheless, she lay there for a while, taking slow, even breaths, telling herself that she needed to wake up from the dream now…

When she opened her eyes again, the lamp was on and the television was off. She must have turned it off before she’d fallen asleep after all. Slowly, she sat up, staring straight ahead of her, before standing up and starting tentatively to inspect the rest of her living room.

“Did it work?”

Donna jumped and spun round, her hand pressed to her chest.

“You startled me.”

Mrs Landingham shrugged, nonchalantly. “I’m a ghost – it’s my job to startle people.”

“Your job?” Donna frowned. Then – “Wait – a ghost?”

“That’s right, dear.”

“No.” Donna smiled nervously. “No. There are no such things as – I’m still asleep; I must be, I mean, it’s impossible - ”

Mrs Landingham stood up and walked towards her. Donna took another step or two backwards.

“I think we’ve had this conversation before, don’t you? You know I’m dead and yes, there are such things as ghosts. Obviously.”

“But – but - ” Donna spluttered, helplessly.

“Why am I here?” The older woman smiled kindly, in the way that Donna remembered so well. “I was hoping you were going to ask that. Now, why don’t you sit down and let me explain?”

Donna did as she was told, unable to do anything but stare open-mouthed at – this really was ludicrous - the ghost in her living room.

Mrs Landingham’s ghost sat down at the other end of the sofa. “So, how have you been?”

“What?”

“I asked how you’ve been, Donna.”

“How I’ve ..?” Donna rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry – you turn up in my home, tell me you’re a ghost - and then sit here and ask me how I am?”

“Good manners hurt no-one, I’ve always thought.”

“I - ” Donna sighed. She was confused and tired; she couldn’t decide whether she was asleep and dreaming, or awake and hallucinating - and decided that, for now, the easiest thing to do would be to go with the flow. “I’m okay. Well, apart from, you know, nearly being killed in a car-bombing a few months back.”

And the fact that I’m seeing dead people.

“Yes, I was sorry to hear about that, dear. It must have been awful for you.”

“It was; it was - ” Donna jumped up exasperatedly. “This is ridiculous – I can’t do this. Will somebody, for the love of God please tell me what is going on?!”

The ghost of Mrs Landingham frowned disapprovingly. “Now, there’s no need to shout. I’m here because you need help.”

“I – what?”

“You’re in danger of becoming – well, you’ll come to that later, but let’s just say some of us,” and here, she raised a finger and pointed upward, “thought you needed a little nudge to help you stay on the right path.”

“The right path?”

The spirit sighed. “You’re a bright girl, Donna. You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t. Anyone would think I’d switched parties and become a Republican!”

Mrs Landingham pursed her lips. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Then what is it about, because I sure as h – heck can’t figure it out!”

“Donna,” said the ghost, patiently, “you’re angry and you’re bitter and that just isn’t you, and if you carry on like this, well… I don’t see a particularly happy future for you.”

“You have a crystal ball, now?” Donna laughed nervously. “I thought we had enough problems with the First Lady and her ouija board.”

“Now, Donna, you know very well that was only a rumor. And no, I don’t have a crystal ball as such, but I what I can tell you is that what you’re trying to do isn’t right.”

Donna bristled, defensively. “What am I trying to do?”

“You’re trying to switch off. You don’t want to feel all the things you feel now – you don’t want the guilt, or the sorrow – or the love - ” Donna looked up, startled, to find Mrs Landingham’s piercing gaze upon her, “so you’re trying to push all that aside by filling yourself with bitterness and anger. And then you’ll stop yourself feeling those things as well, so that eventually you won’t feel anything.”

Donna gaped at her in shock. “No. No, I’m not doing that. I am angry; I’ve got a right to be angry after the way he - ” she tailed off under the weight of that intense stare.

Mrs Landingham looked at her, questioningly. “After the way he… what?”

“I - ” Donna bit her lip and looked down at her hands. “Nothing.”

“Alright, dear.” Mrs Landingham reached forward and patted Donna’s knee. “I’m not here to argue with you. I’m here to tell you - ”

A thought – an admittedly bizarre one - popped abruptly into Donna’s head and try as she might, she was unable to rid herself of it.

“Hang on…” she couldn’t suppress the urge to grin, suddenly. “Are you some sort of harbinger of… I mean, is this the part where you rattle the ‘chains you forged in life’ and tell me I will be haunted by three spirits?”

Mrs Landingham cocked her head to the side and looked disapprovingly over the top of her glasses.

“Now there’s no need to be silly. Do I look like I’m going to rattle chains at you?”

Donna blinked, suddenly subdued. “Well I – actually, no. But I studied nineteenth century English Literature, you know, and that’s what Marley’s ghost says in the book.”

“Which book would that be, dear?”

“You know,” Donna hesitated, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “A Christmas Carol. I mean, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To make me see the error of my ways.”

Mrs Landingham smiled wryly. “The error of your ways? Donna, I don’t think you’ve done all that much in your life to be ashamed of, have you?” Donna opened her mouth to respond – then felt a sudden flush warm her cheeks and opted to keep silent, dropping her eyes beneath the older woman’s penetrating gaze. “I mean, you’ve spent a great deal of time in your life helping people one way and another, haven’t you? Even that boyfriend you left – " Donna’s head jerked up – “oh yes, I know all about him – you were helping him through medical school, then when you realized he was just using you, you left him to come help get the President elected, and you’ve been helping him ever since. So,” Mrs Landingham shrugged and got to her feet, “I don’t think you really need a lesson in unselfishness, do you?”

Donna felt herself blush again, and looked at the floor, twisting her hands nervously in her lap. “No, I - ”

“Well, unless there’s something…”

“No!” Donna shot back defensively. “There’s nothing.”

The spirit fixed her with an oh-so-familiar no-nonsense stare and as Donna looked up she could feel herself squirm in her seat. “What?”

Mrs Landingham sighed. “Donna,” she said softly. “How long do you think you can stay pissed at him?”

Donna looked up, startled. For one thing, she didn’t remember having heard Mrs Landingham ever swear before, and for another, she really didn’t want to get drawn into another discussion about Josh.

“It’s not like - ” she began, then changed her mind. “No,” she said, as calmly as she could. “I’m finally doing the best I can for me – I don’t need to justify myself or my actions to anyone.”

“No, you don’t. But you’ve spent the last couple of days trying to justify them to yourself, so why not give me a try?”

Donna's indignation increased. “No! It’s not what you -” and despite her earlier insistence, she suddenly found words tumbling from her lips.

“I had to leave. Can’t you see? I had to. Josh didn’t – he wouldn’t… I kept asking him for more responsibility, but he never listened. I don’t think he ever even saw me! And lately – he’s behaved like such a jerk. I asked to talk to him, he kept postponing and I couldn’t – I wasn’t willing to put up with his treating me like that any more, like I didn’t matter, so I - ” Donna looked over at Mrs Landingham to see her listening intently, her expression unreadable. “So I left,” she finished lamely, the anger that had buoyed her up dissipating suddenly, leaving her feeling deflated and hollow.

“Hm.” The spirit of Mrs Landingham sat down again, and clasped her hands loosely in her lap. “Now, Donna, you have to listen to me carefully. You’ve had a pretty bad time of it the last few months, I know. But this really isn’t the way to go, is it?”

Donna rubbed her hand over her eyes and said nothing.

“But what’s done is done, I guess,” the spirit said, placing her hands on her knees. After a moment’s silence, she asked innocuously, “How long did you work for Josh?”

“You know how long – nearly eight years.”

Mrs Landingham fixed Donna with a no-nonsense stare. “So I imagine you gave him a full month’s notice?”

“I –“ Donna stammered.

“Two weeks, then?”

“I tried to, but I - ”

“Oh yes, right - he was a jerk so he didn’t deserve that.”

Donna’s anger flared again, white hot this time as she leapt to her feet.

“How dare you! How dare you tell me that – that I – when he -” she couldn’t finish the sentence. Suddenly, she was assailed by a pang of regret, and the tears she’d managed to keep at bay all day by keeping busy, or thinking about job hunting, or reminding herself about just how unfairly Josh had treated her were suddenly on the verge of falling, her throat constricting as she fought not to shed them.

Damn him. This was his fault, too. She’d been so sure that she was doing the right thing – sure that she needed to break away and make her own way … her anger evaporated, she sank down onto the sofa and buried her face in her hands.

She felt a movement beside her and looked up.

“God,” she sniffed, “Mrs Landingham, I’m so sorry – I was – that was rude of me, I -”

The spirit waved a hand. “Oh, that’s alright, dear. I understand. You’re upset and frustrated and you needed to get it off your chest. And God knows, your Joshua isn’t always the easiest of men to be around, is he?”

Donna smiled wanly. “No, he’s not.”

And he’s not ‘my’ Joshua either. Which is part of the problem.

She plucked a tissue from the box on the coffee table and wiped at her eyes.

“But I really,” she swallowed – this was hard to say, even if she was saying it to a – a figment of her imagination. “I thought he … thought more of me, that’s all. I can do more than this – I can be more than this; no disrespect intended – but I know I can do more. And I hoped… I hoped that maybe Josh would see that and be the one to help me. But he didn’t. He’s too used to having me running around after him – he just can’t see me doing anything else. And I’m good at my job – he’ll be hard pressed to find another assistant who can…” she cleared her throat. “Anyway, he was holding me back out of pure self-interest and I’m just glad I realized before it was too late.”

“Before it was too late?”

“Yes. Before it was too late for me to move on. I’m sorry, Mrs Landingham, but I’m not like you – or Margaret, or Carol… I’ve wasted enough time with – I mean, now I’ll have a chance to prove myself, to show what I can really do.”

“That’s nice, dear. But I don’t think you quite understand. You’re right, it’s not too late - but if you don’t listen to me carefully, it may well be.”

Donna raised her eyebrows in alarm - and Mrs Landingham put out a hand.

“Don’t worry – I told you I wasn’t going to rattle any chains, and I’m not.”

“But – the other spirits?”

“Are on their way, yes.”

“I really can’t skip that part?”

“Sorry, dear. But there are some things you need to see – some things from your past about which I think you need to be reminded, and some things that may well come to be part of your future if you don’t learn the lessons the spirits are coming here to teach you.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any point in my asking if I can see them all together and get it all over at once?”

“Not really, no.”

Donna heaved a sigh. “Okay.”

“The first is due at one, so I’d get a little more sleep if I were you.” Mrs Landingham stood up and smoothed her skirt. “Well, dear, it’s been lovely to see you.”

Donna blinked. It was as though the woman had been visiting from the next apartment not the next - life. She squinted up, awkwardly. “Uh – I… you too.”

The spirit smiled and turned to leave. As she reached the door, she stopped and turned to face Donna once again. “Just remember what I said. After all, it’s the season of goodwill to all men. And that includes Josh Lyman.”

Donna opened her mouth – watching in silence as her ghostly visitor walked quietly through the closed door.

It might have been clichéd, but Donna had to admit - it was one hell of an exit.

She eventually dragged her gaze away from the door and flopped back onto the cushions of the sofa. Now that her visitor had left, it would be easier to think about this rationally. Donna yawned and tucked her legs up underneath her, her gaze returning to the lights twinkling on her Christmas tree. It occurred to her suddenly that it was looking a little forlorn this year. Usually, she decorated a little more enthusiastically – with garlands and tinsel and ornaments, but this year, she hadn’t really felt particularly festive and had just draped a small string of lights over the branches. She yawned again and blinked a couple of times, trying to force open her drooping eyelids, to stop the colors of the lights blurring and merging into one another… she needed to think… she needed to…


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Part Two