Disclaimer: All characters belong to Aaron Sorkin. Damn him.
"JAMES TIBERIUS HARPER!" Maggie's shout echoed through the newsroom.
"Maggie, for the millionth time, that's not my-"
"Does it look like I care?" Maggie cut him off.
"No, no, in fact, it doesn't. It doesn't sound like you do, either," Jim replied.
"Good, glad we're on the same page. Now, I would like to ask you a question. There is only one right answer to this question. You know the answer, and that is why I'm asking you. I know you know the answer, so feel free to confirm my faith in you by being right. A wrong answer will not be tolerated. In fact, a wrong answer will go so far as to incur my wrath, which you know I know you don't want to do. Are we clear?" Maggie spit this speech out very quickly while poking him fiercely in the chest.
"Yes. Is that the question? Did I get it right? Please stop poking me," Jim answered while backing away from Maggie so quickly that he almost fell over when he hit the desk behind him.
"NO. That is not the question, smartass. That wasn't even a good attempt at distracting me from my current train of thought. I really expected better from you. Nevertheless, the question." Now Maggie had Jim literally backed into a corner, leaning as far away from her pointing finger as he could get.
"Right. The question. The question with only one right answer, which I will know, because I don't want to incur your wrath. Your further wrath, I mean," Jim stated.
"Yes. The question. Well, you see, it's a simple question. Rather, it's a simple answer. Actually, it's not simple. The question. Or the answer. I mean, it should be. Maybe it's deceptively simple, but complex underneath? Maybe you have to be complex to understand the simplicity of it?" The fight seemed to go out of Maggie as she started rambling. Her arm dropped from where it had been pointing and poking into Jim's chest. The sparks that had been flying from her eyes died and were replaced by sadness and confusion.
Jim slowly stood up straight from his position hunched over the desk. He realized that this was important to Maggie. It wasn't just one of their bits where they bantered and needled each other.
"Mags, whatever the question, it doesn't matter if it's simple or complex or deceptive or straightforward. I will give you the answer you're looking for," Jim told her quietly.
"I know," she whispered. "I know you will, and that's what makes asking you so hard." Maggie dropped her gaze until she was looking at the carpet.
Jim grabbed her chin and gently nudged it upward until she was looking at him again. He didn't like seeing her staring at the floor. He also hated the lost look she was giving him.
A tap on the shoulder and a throat clearing next to his ear startled Jim. "I'm sure we'd all like to know the answer to this question that Maggie has for you, Jim, but I don't know if you want witnesses to the 'wrath' she will heap upon you if you get the answer wrong," Neal said, gesturing meaningfully to the other occupants of the newsroom. Everyone had stopped what they were doing at the sound of Maggie's yell, clearly hoping for a show. From the rapt looks on their faces, Jim figured they were getting a good one.
Stepping in front of Maggie and shielding her from the stares, Jim said, "Right, Neal. I know you're all hoping that Maggie will hit me in the face with another door, but sadly, that's not going to be happening this afternoon. Alright, everyone get back to work. We have to have a show ready to run through at six o'clock." Giving Neal a look of gratitude, Jim waited until everyone reluctantly went back to what they were supposed to be doing and then turned to Maggie. "Let's continue this conversation on the balcony, ok?" he asked.
Maggie gave a small nod and followed him outside.
"Now, about that question, Mags. What is it?" Jim asked.
"Why do I do the news, Jim?"