Classification: Vignette, post-ep for "Inauguration: Over There"
Spoilers: Up to and including the "Inauguration" episodes.
THE FABULOUS BARTLET BOYS
At a quarter to three in the morning following Bartlet's second inauguration,
the balls might have wound down but Toby was still haunting the corridors of
the White House in his tuxedo, an unlit cigar dangling between his index and
middle fingers. He lived for nights like this, when speeches left the pundits
scrambling for superlatives, when a few carefully placed words changed the
future of the administration. They all lived for nights like this, come to think
of it. Even though Leo had dismissed them half an hour before, Toby knew that
the senior staff would probably still be somewhere in the building.
For himself, he hoped to stumble across a glass of scotch and some friends
playing a few rounds of poker, both of which he felt he richly deserved. He
hadn't come across anyone he particularly wanted to be around, so he went
further than usual and found himself outside of the East Room.
There was music. Piano music, specifically, and it was both elaborate and
melancholy. Toby waited outside, letting the music wash over him for long,
luxurious moments. His natural curiosity got the better of him and he turned the
knob, opening the door and stepping inside to see who was playing.
Will.
His jacket was still on, but Toby could see the tie hanging from the music rack
of the magnificent grand piano. Will's whole body swayed with the notes that
rang with such sonority from his instrument, and he was so wrapped up in his
music that he either did not know that someone had entered the room or simply
did not care. Toby suspected the former.
He backed out of the room as quietly as he had entered. Will was still an
outsider to the group, the ink only barely dry on his commission, and he had the
added disadvantage of replacing someone as beloved as Sam. Perhaps it was time
to let the staff know a little more about Will Bailey.
Once the cigar was placed carefully at the base of a potted plant Toby couldn't
identify, he took out his cell phone and dialed his bullpen. Bonnie answered,
sounding rather tipsy. "It's me," Toby said without introduction. "Get them to
the East Room."
As he hung up the phone and retrieved his cigar, Toby realized with a pang that
the time he'd be able to make such an order was growing shorter. So much to do
in these four years.
Then what?
He shook off the melancholy mood, and by the time CJ came up to him, shoes in
one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, he was able to offer her a
genuine smile. She'd taken more than one for the team and she was weary, but she
was magnificent even with fallen hair and stockinged feet.
"What's going on?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as Toby put his finger over
her lips. He felt the familiar frisson pass between them. The sudden light in
CJ's eyes told him that she felt the same thing.
Something else they'd have to put off for later.
"Listen," he whispered.
CJ cocked her head and smiled. "Who's in there?"
"Will Bailey."
"No kidding?" She pressed her ear to the door, the angles of her body softening
as she moved in time with the music. "He's good."
"Who's good?" Josh asked around a yawn. His clothes were a wreck - jacket
missing, shirt wrinkled beyond redemption, tie at an impossible angle.
Disheveled as Josh might be, he was still swaggering and grinning. He draped one
arm around Toby's shoulder and the other around CJ's waist, hugging them both at
once.
"That's Will," CJ said, pointing toward the East Room.
Josh looked at the door, then back at CJ. "You named the door Will?"
"The piano, Josh," groaned CJ.
That didn't seem to help. Josh gaped at her. "You named...the piano..."
"Will is playing the piano," Toby cut in, desperate to stop the conversation. "I
heard music when I walked by, so I opened the door and saw that it was Will
playing."
"Ah." Josh nodded sagely. "So if Will's in there and he's really good, why are
we out here?"
CJ shrugged and tapped Josh on the arm with the toe of her shoe. "Good question.
I say we invade."
"By all means, let's invade the East Room." Toby made a gallant bow as Josh
opened the door, and he followed them in as Will finished his piece with a
flourish.
They applauded. Will turned abruptly. "How long have you been in here?" he
asked, folding his hands in his lap as if embarrassed to have been caught in
something as self-indulgent as music.
"Outside, a couple minutes. We just came in," Josh said as he walked over to the
piano. "Brahms, huh?" he asked.
Will brightened. "You play?" he asked.
"Me? Nah." Josh's smile disappeared and Toby saw CJ's shoulders sag a little.
Josh ran his finger along the curves of the mahogany piano. "My sister. She, uh,
did."
No matter how many times he heard Josh speak of his sister in the past tense,
Toby always felt a tightness in his chest. Will just nodded without saying
anything. Toby wasn't sure if Will knew the story, but obviously he had enough
tact to recognize the darkness in Josh's voice. "Should I stop?" Will asked.
"No, no," Josh protested, leaning against CJ. "The rest of us, it's all we can
do to play the radio."
"Speak for yourself." CJ pulled away from Josh and rested her hip in the curve
of the piano. "I can sing."
Toby couldn't restrain a chuckle and Josh laughed outright. Sniffing in
indignation, CJ flung her stole across her shoulders. "Play something sultry,"
she said to Will with her most imperious expression.
Will sat back down on the bench and started playing something warm, a jazz tune
Toby couldn't quite place. CJ took Josh's hand and danced a few steps with him
until his smile returned at its full wattage. "Give me a boost," she said to
both Josh and Toby as she returned to the piano.
"You'd like a boost?" Josh asked, smirking.
"I would indeed. It is my intent to sit on this piano."
"It's a Steinway," Toby pointed out.
"Then I intend to sit on this Steinway while Will plays," she insisted, holding
out her hands until Toby could no more resist her than he could resist the need
for oxygen. He took her left arm and Josh her right, and together they helped
her balance as she wriggled her way atop the instrument.
Josh continued to register disapproval. "You can't sit here. Rubenstein played
this piano. Paderewski played this piano."
"Paderewski played the Gold Steinway," Will countered. "This one was given to
the White House in 1938."
"You're an East Room geek," Toby said, but he felt an odd surge of pride mixed
with happiness at Josh's easy, bright laughter and the gorgeous sight of CJ
lounging on the piano, her long legs crossed at the ankles. "Where'd you learn
to play?" Toby asked.
"Switzerland, mostly. Paris in the summers." He sounded as casual as if he had
been talking about a sandlot ball game.
"You didn't get, you know, beaten up?" Toby asked, patting his pockets in hopes
of finding another cigar. He was unsuccessful.
CJ scowled at him. "His father is Thomas Bailey. He probably could beat up the
other kids' dads."
"Actually," Will said, pausing long enough to push his glasses back up on his
nose, "he got other people to beat up the other kids' dads." He struck up again,
playing "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes." Smiling, Josh walked across the parquet floor
and leaned against the wall with his hands clasped behind his back.
"That's nice," CJ murmured approvingly as Will modulated and began to play "The
Way You Look Tonight," his fingers moving smoothly across the keyboard. "You
have gorgeous hands."
Will blushed - a compliment from CJ could do that to a man - but kept on playing
as CJ began to hum along. "Typing sixteen drafts of an inaugural address is a
good workout."
"I bet," Josh called out. "You do this a lot?"
Shrugging, Will played a glissando and returned to the song. "I mentioned once
to the First Lady that I played, and she offered to let me use the piano
whenever I needed to let off steam. Which lately, as you can imagine, has been
pretty often."
Toby understood completely. "Given your track record with windows, I'm surprised
they let you near anything as nice as a 1939 Steinway."
"1938 Steinway," CJ corrected. "You should listen more."
"It's more fun to watch." Toby walked slowly to where Josh was standing, and
mirrored his pose. "This is nice. We should have poker games in here."
"We should do everything in here. While we can. We have so little time left."
Josh's voice was dark and wistful.
"Four years isn't 'little' time," Toby responded in spite of his own fears to
the contrary.
Josh shook his head. "Look how fast the last four went by."
"We have some work yet to do, I will grant you." Toby pointed to the piano,
where CJ was singing in a smooth alto while Will accompanied her with
exaggerated gestures. "But we'll take care of it. You and me and that man there,
the one playing the Very Expensive Steinway of Uncertain Vintage."
"What am I, chopped liver?" CJ shot from across the room. "And it's 1938."
Toby tugged at Josh's arm, leading him back to the piano. "You are many, many
things, CJ, but chopped liver is not one of them." He stopped talking. Will
stopped playing, and CJ and Josh looked expectantly at him. "What?"
"We thought you were going to say something profound or something," Josh said.
"Nope. Keep...doing that," Toby murmured, waving at CJ and Will. "You keep doing
that, and the other things we do." He nudged Josh. "We get four years, and
there'll be nights like this and nights that aren't, and you know what?"
"We just keep doing the things we do?" Josh asked, grinning.
Toby nodded. "We have four more years. We have three experienced heads and one
fresh one. And Will, here, can play the piano. I say we can perform miracles.
Miracles, I tell you." He paused while the others laughed softly. "Or at least
some decent jazz."
CJ slid off the piano and rested her hand on the lid as she put her shoes back
on. "Okay, Brubeck, it's time to get our nightly hour of sleep. Walk me to my
car?"
He offered his arm, smiling as CJ nestled close to him. "Will, Josh, you
coming?"
"I'm going to play for a while longer," Will said. "Even if I go home, I won't
be able to sleep."
Josh put his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor. "I'm pretty wired,
too. Mind if I...sit and listen for a while?"
CJ smiled down at Toby and squeezed his arm. Josh was going to sit and listen.
And maybe talk. And he and CJ wouldn't sleep, either - they'd wind up with Irish
coffee and he'd massage her feet until she drifted off on his sofa.
Then they'd come in at seven, stand with the President in the Oval Office, and
prepare for whatever was next. Toby smiled to himself, breathing in CJ's
fragrance and reveling in her touch on his arm.
He was ready.
***
END
***
Feedback is welcome at marguerite@swbell.net.
Back to West Wing.
Spoilers: Up to and including the "Inauguration" episodes.
THE FABULOUS BARTLET BOYS
At a quarter to three in the morning following Bartlet's second inauguration,
the balls might have wound down but Toby was still haunting the corridors of
the White House in his tuxedo, an unlit cigar dangling between his index and
middle fingers. He lived for nights like this, when speeches left the pundits
scrambling for superlatives, when a few carefully placed words changed the
future of the administration. They all lived for nights like this, come to think
of it. Even though Leo had dismissed them half an hour before, Toby knew that
the senior staff would probably still be somewhere in the building.
For himself, he hoped to stumble across a glass of scotch and some friends
playing a few rounds of poker, both of which he felt he richly deserved. He
hadn't come across anyone he particularly wanted to be around, so he went
further than usual and found himself outside of the East Room.
There was music. Piano music, specifically, and it was both elaborate and
melancholy. Toby waited outside, letting the music wash over him for long,
luxurious moments. His natural curiosity got the better of him and he turned the
knob, opening the door and stepping inside to see who was playing.
Will.
His jacket was still on, but Toby could see the tie hanging from the music rack
of the magnificent grand piano. Will's whole body swayed with the notes that
rang with such sonority from his instrument, and he was so wrapped up in his
music that he either did not know that someone had entered the room or simply
did not care. Toby suspected the former.
He backed out of the room as quietly as he had entered. Will was still an
outsider to the group, the ink only barely dry on his commission, and he had the
added disadvantage of replacing someone as beloved as Sam. Perhaps it was time
to let the staff know a little more about Will Bailey.
Once the cigar was placed carefully at the base of a potted plant Toby couldn't
identify, he took out his cell phone and dialed his bullpen. Bonnie answered,
sounding rather tipsy. "It's me," Toby said without introduction. "Get them to
the East Room."
As he hung up the phone and retrieved his cigar, Toby realized with a pang that
the time he'd be able to make such an order was growing shorter. So much to do
in these four years.
Then what?
He shook off the melancholy mood, and by the time CJ came up to him, shoes in
one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, he was able to offer her a
genuine smile. She'd taken more than one for the team and she was weary, but she
was magnificent even with fallen hair and stockinged feet.
"What's going on?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as Toby put his finger over
her lips. He felt the familiar frisson pass between them. The sudden light in
CJ's eyes told him that she felt the same thing.
Something else they'd have to put off for later.
"Listen," he whispered.
CJ cocked her head and smiled. "Who's in there?"
"Will Bailey."
"No kidding?" She pressed her ear to the door, the angles of her body softening
as she moved in time with the music. "He's good."
"Who's good?" Josh asked around a yawn. His clothes were a wreck - jacket
missing, shirt wrinkled beyond redemption, tie at an impossible angle.
Disheveled as Josh might be, he was still swaggering and grinning. He draped one
arm around Toby's shoulder and the other around CJ's waist, hugging them both at
once.
"That's Will," CJ said, pointing toward the East Room.
Josh looked at the door, then back at CJ. "You named the door Will?"
"The piano, Josh," groaned CJ.
That didn't seem to help. Josh gaped at her. "You named...the piano..."
"Will is playing the piano," Toby cut in, desperate to stop the conversation. "I
heard music when I walked by, so I opened the door and saw that it was Will
playing."
"Ah." Josh nodded sagely. "So if Will's in there and he's really good, why are
we out here?"
CJ shrugged and tapped Josh on the arm with the toe of her shoe. "Good question.
I say we invade."
"By all means, let's invade the East Room." Toby made a gallant bow as Josh
opened the door, and he followed them in as Will finished his piece with a
flourish.
They applauded. Will turned abruptly. "How long have you been in here?" he
asked, folding his hands in his lap as if embarrassed to have been caught in
something as self-indulgent as music.
"Outside, a couple minutes. We just came in," Josh said as he walked over to the
piano. "Brahms, huh?" he asked.
Will brightened. "You play?" he asked.
"Me? Nah." Josh's smile disappeared and Toby saw CJ's shoulders sag a little.
Josh ran his finger along the curves of the mahogany piano. "My sister. She, uh,
did."
No matter how many times he heard Josh speak of his sister in the past tense,
Toby always felt a tightness in his chest. Will just nodded without saying
anything. Toby wasn't sure if Will knew the story, but obviously he had enough
tact to recognize the darkness in Josh's voice. "Should I stop?" Will asked.
"No, no," Josh protested, leaning against CJ. "The rest of us, it's all we can
do to play the radio."
"Speak for yourself." CJ pulled away from Josh and rested her hip in the curve
of the piano. "I can sing."
Toby couldn't restrain a chuckle and Josh laughed outright. Sniffing in
indignation, CJ flung her stole across her shoulders. "Play something sultry,"
she said to Will with her most imperious expression.
Will sat back down on the bench and started playing something warm, a jazz tune
Toby couldn't quite place. CJ took Josh's hand and danced a few steps with him
until his smile returned at its full wattage. "Give me a boost," she said to
both Josh and Toby as she returned to the piano.
"You'd like a boost?" Josh asked, smirking.
"I would indeed. It is my intent to sit on this piano."
"It's a Steinway," Toby pointed out.
"Then I intend to sit on this Steinway while Will plays," she insisted, holding
out her hands until Toby could no more resist her than he could resist the need
for oxygen. He took her left arm and Josh her right, and together they helped
her balance as she wriggled her way atop the instrument.
Josh continued to register disapproval. "You can't sit here. Rubenstein played
this piano. Paderewski played this piano."
"Paderewski played the Gold Steinway," Will countered. "This one was given to
the White House in 1938."
"You're an East Room geek," Toby said, but he felt an odd surge of pride mixed
with happiness at Josh's easy, bright laughter and the gorgeous sight of CJ
lounging on the piano, her long legs crossed at the ankles. "Where'd you learn
to play?" Toby asked.
"Switzerland, mostly. Paris in the summers." He sounded as casual as if he had
been talking about a sandlot ball game.
"You didn't get, you know, beaten up?" Toby asked, patting his pockets in hopes
of finding another cigar. He was unsuccessful.
CJ scowled at him. "His father is Thomas Bailey. He probably could beat up the
other kids' dads."
"Actually," Will said, pausing long enough to push his glasses back up on his
nose, "he got other people to beat up the other kids' dads." He struck up again,
playing "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes." Smiling, Josh walked across the parquet floor
and leaned against the wall with his hands clasped behind his back.
"That's nice," CJ murmured approvingly as Will modulated and began to play "The
Way You Look Tonight," his fingers moving smoothly across the keyboard. "You
have gorgeous hands."
Will blushed - a compliment from CJ could do that to a man - but kept on playing
as CJ began to hum along. "Typing sixteen drafts of an inaugural address is a
good workout."
"I bet," Josh called out. "You do this a lot?"
Shrugging, Will played a glissando and returned to the song. "I mentioned once
to the First Lady that I played, and she offered to let me use the piano
whenever I needed to let off steam. Which lately, as you can imagine, has been
pretty often."
Toby understood completely. "Given your track record with windows, I'm surprised
they let you near anything as nice as a 1939 Steinway."
"1938 Steinway," CJ corrected. "You should listen more."
"It's more fun to watch." Toby walked slowly to where Josh was standing, and
mirrored his pose. "This is nice. We should have poker games in here."
"We should do everything in here. While we can. We have so little time left."
Josh's voice was dark and wistful.
"Four years isn't 'little' time," Toby responded in spite of his own fears to
the contrary.
Josh shook his head. "Look how fast the last four went by."
"We have some work yet to do, I will grant you." Toby pointed to the piano,
where CJ was singing in a smooth alto while Will accompanied her with
exaggerated gestures. "But we'll take care of it. You and me and that man there,
the one playing the Very Expensive Steinway of Uncertain Vintage."
"What am I, chopped liver?" CJ shot from across the room. "And it's 1938."
Toby tugged at Josh's arm, leading him back to the piano. "You are many, many
things, CJ, but chopped liver is not one of them." He stopped talking. Will
stopped playing, and CJ and Josh looked expectantly at him. "What?"
"We thought you were going to say something profound or something," Josh said.
"Nope. Keep...doing that," Toby murmured, waving at CJ and Will. "You keep doing
that, and the other things we do." He nudged Josh. "We get four years, and
there'll be nights like this and nights that aren't, and you know what?"
"We just keep doing the things we do?" Josh asked, grinning.
Toby nodded. "We have four more years. We have three experienced heads and one
fresh one. And Will, here, can play the piano. I say we can perform miracles.
Miracles, I tell you." He paused while the others laughed softly. "Or at least
some decent jazz."
CJ slid off the piano and rested her hand on the lid as she put her shoes back
on. "Okay, Brubeck, it's time to get our nightly hour of sleep. Walk me to my
car?"
He offered his arm, smiling as CJ nestled close to him. "Will, Josh, you
coming?"
"I'm going to play for a while longer," Will said. "Even if I go home, I won't
be able to sleep."
Josh put his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor. "I'm pretty wired,
too. Mind if I...sit and listen for a while?"
CJ smiled down at Toby and squeezed his arm. Josh was going to sit and listen.
And maybe talk. And he and CJ wouldn't sleep, either - they'd wind up with Irish
coffee and he'd massage her feet until she drifted off on his sofa.
Then they'd come in at seven, stand with the President in the Oval Office, and
prepare for whatever was next. Toby smiled to himself, breathing in CJ's
fragrance and reveling in her touch on his arm.
He was ready.
***
END
***
Feedback is welcome at marguerite@swbell.net.
Back to West Wing.