Little Things
(The Reconciliation Remix)

Author: MelWil

Original Story: A Family Thing by Val

Summary: Leo likes the little things.

Rating: PG

Fandom: The West Wing

I like the little things . . .

The second that an ice cube leaves your hand and the moment when it thuds into the bottom of the glass. No breaking. No cracking. The ice must remain whole. It's just a little thing, but it's terribly important . . .

The feeling of a good glass when it's resting on the ball of your hand. Heavy, strong, sturdy. Built to last a thousand drinks, a hundred years . . .

The splash of fine alcohol . . .

The laughter of an unknowing companion . . .

The little voice of a nagging conscience that tells you you're doing a terrible, terrible thing.

~*~

Josh is standing in my hotel room, staring at me as if I'm some sort of criminal. I want to tell him to go away, want to tell him to leave me alone, but the words don't come as easily as they should.

"How could you? We needed you today, Leo. The governor needed you." Josh picks up a bottle from the table, casually examining the label. I flinch, waiting for him to crack, waiting for the bottle to shatter against the wall behind me.

Josh puts the bottle back on the table. "I never expected you to let this campaign down, Leo. I never expected you to let me down."

There's a strange buzzing in my ear, a strange fragment from my past. "I thought you were used to it Josh. I thought your father let you down all the time. And you still loved him." I take another drink even though I know I've gone too far. "We're all alike, us alcoholics. Can't trust any of us."

The door clicked into place as he left the room.

~*~

Noah used to leave phone messages, asking if I was okay. He talked on the phone to Jenny and Mallory, spending hours reassuring them that things would end up fine.

Noah was never about the little things.

~*~

"Josh!"

He glances at me, attempts to walk away . . .

There's two days until the President-elect becomes President and we don't have the time. I stand in front of Josh, corner him, stop him from running away. "I need to talk to you. Now."

Josh puts his hands on his hips, adopts his 'I'm right and you're wrong' stance. "We've got a lot to get through, Leo. It's not really a good time to stand around and gab."

"The amount of work we have is exactly why we have to talk, Josh. We're not going to get anything done if we slink around trying not to run into each other."

He stares at me, and I know that I am going first. Josh doesn't forgive and forget unless given just cause. That's why we wanted him in the first place.

"What I said to you, Josh, was inexcusable, and I apologise. What I did, though, is a little more explainable. But still, I apologise. I let you down, all of you, and I feel terrible about it."

Josh doesn't move, but his posture softens and I realise (even if he doesn't) that he has begun to forgive me. I hold out my hand and he shakes it - a strong, sturdy grasp, so different from the shaky hand Noah used to offer me.

"What do you think, Josh? Do you want to be Deputy Chief of Staff for the President of the United States?"

Josh grins, and there's a possibility that it's going to be all right.

It's just a matter of small measures.

fin

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