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Charmed Life
by Lin 


TITLE: Charmed Life

AUTHOR: L. N. Lockhart

DATE: December 27, 2000

DISCLAIMER: The West Wing and its respective characters belong to Aaron
Sorkin, NBC, et. al. No copyright infringement intended

SPOILERS: very slight ones for WKODHIB, ITSOTG, and Noel--ya know, the
usual suspects

ARCHIVE: Sure if you want to give it a home, but please let me know

FEEDBACK: Live for it, but please be kind--I have a fragile ego. LOL

SUMMARY: A little Josh musing on life, friendship, and love.

 

Charmed Life

by L.N. Lockhart

 

I find myself believing it at times.

Those of course are times my brain has decided to go on hiatus but
nevertheless. . .I do think it.

::chuckle::

What am I talking about?

What am I thinking about?

Do you ever find yourself going around in circles about nothing? 
Rolling it around in your mind as if it were a piece of fudge, but 
pondering the what-ifs of life. 

I try not to. 

I have a feeling if I spent any amount of time thinking about me and my
*screwed up* life, I'd have to. . .

The times in my life when I have been proven wrong about *me* and my 
confidence in myself, have been so few and far between that I begin to 
think I lead an amazing, charmed life. But I'm never allowed that 
moment of bliss. Not for long.

Since we arrived, here, in office, my thoughts have been bombarded with
thoughts of my older sister Joanie. 

Why? 

I'm not really sure. Politics were never Joanie's thing. She preferred 
music. Her friends. How in the hell did I end up here then? 

But I'm wandering. 

We weren't the best of friends. How could you be friends with a mutant 
who loved to talk on the phone and flip her hair in your face? A person
who loved clothes. A person who was 5 years older than me. But I 
depended on her. It wasn't until after the fire that I realized the 
incessant chatter and squeals of delight she had shared with her 
friends had become the background noise of my life. 

Funny.

That's how it always is. We never realize what we have until. . .I 
trust you know the saying, but it's true.

But the noise had been choked out by the thick smoke of fire and I miss
her. 

I miss her.

Everyday, everytime, I take a breath, I miss her. 

In flesh she was my sister and in death she is the golden rain falling 
on my head.

But then I met my *other* sister. Not in blood, but by everything else.
CJ Cregg. She is the second most important woman in my life, my 
surrogate sister if you will. CJ is about all a guy could ask for in a 
sister. She's loving, supportive, and a pain in the ass.

I guess it comes with the territory of being pseudo-siblings. I know 
I'm a pain the ass to her, especially when I'm assigned to do press 
briefings when she's out, but we make it through. We get on each 
other's nerves so much, there's nothing left to do but be each other's 
best friend and confidante.

I remember when Toby brought this amazing 6' tall woman into all of our 
lives. I don't know if we were more bowled over by her intellect or the
fact that she could handle us all. Her wit and mostly her courage for 
playing in a male-oriented field garnered a lot of respect. No, she's 
not the only one, but she was and is the one we all know--and love.

It didn't hurt that she could go toe-for-toe with the then Governor, 
now President Bartlet. She had a way of speaking to him that kept his 
ego in tact while still disagreeing with him, something only his wife 
had been allowed to do. The rest of us, Toby, Sam, and myself, ducked 
for cover when Bartlet went on a rampage, but not CJ or Abbey. 

That's my Claudia Jean, the silver bells tinkling in the air.

I was afraid the night at the Newseum that her laughter had been stolen
from her, but it seems as if my smile is the only thing that was 
stolen. 

Gone. Vanished.

She came to me later at my apartment. Donna had given her the 
*privilege* of visiting me as I recuperated, but I have a feeling that 
CJ had worked her magic on Donna, which is probably why I never heard 
from Sam or Toby.

Back to CJ. She took my hand and held it in hers. It was the first time
we had been face-to-face since the shooting. We had shared many phone 
calls.

Mi amor. But this was the first time. . .

She took my hands and looked directly into my eyes. There were tears 
brimming in her eyes and I remember taking my free hand and cupping 
her face gently. She turned into it and laughed. She was ashamed of 
crying in front of me when I had been the one who was shot. I couldn't 
tell her that her pain, her tears, were almost as painful as that 
gunshot. Almost.

I picked up the necklace nestled by her throat and ran my finger over 
the smooth surface. She ran her hand along the chain and rested her 
fingers by my own. 

"I see you have your necklace."

"Yes." She answered simply but I already knew.

"I heard you lost it." It was a statement.

"Yeah, almost." And then her smile brightened. "Almost, but now it's 
OK."

And then there's Donna. Donnatella Moss. Everytime I utter her whole 
name, visions of the Sistine Chapel enter my head, which really 
shouldn't happen considering Michelangelo painted that ceiling. 

I'll admit it. I couldn't live without Donna. 

She's *my* knight, or lady, in shining armor. There are days when I 
just want to lie down on the couch in my office and not move for the 
next 24 hours, but it's Donna's upbeat attitude that keeps me moving. 

Not to say she's incredibly perky or even that I enjoy it because 
there are many times I don't---but I just know, I appreciate her more 
than my heart will allow me to admit. It is her shrewd observations 
that reached out to Leo and allowed me to seek help for my problems.

Problems?

Isn't that a quaint way to put it? I shouted at the President of the 
United States. Something that's just *NOT* done. And everyone else. . .
my mind takes a mental recount of my attitude over the last couple of 
weeks. But I think they understand. All of them. 

I don't think I do, but they do, especially *them*. My three angels.

Which leads me back here to my apartment, sipping from a glass of 
water. Wouldn't it have sounded cool if I had said a glass of bourbon 
or scotch or something, but no, it's water. Ice water. ::chuckle:: 

Charmed. 

I've been through a lot in my life but I'm lucky. Through all of the 
bad things, and there have been many, or at least the few that were 
horrible, I have survived. And that's what counts.

I have the grace of Joanie living inside me and around me.

I have the quiet dignity and love of CJ to help me through my trials.

And finally, I have the faith and hope Donna has entrusted to me ever 
since I found her answering my phone.

These three women, two living, one dead, make me remember who I am. 

Why I'm here. 

And most of all what I'm living for.

For them, but most of all for me.

~THE END~