A/N This is just a quick little drabble. Had the thought after seeing 'Bartlet for America' and some other series 3 episodes…
"Good morning, Governor."
"Not so much, Beth."
"It wasn't a question, sir."
"I know!"
The Governor of Nevada stepped passed his personal assistant and into his large office. He shut the door behind him, ignoring it as it slammed with a thud. He pulled his scarf from around his neck and hung it along with his coat on the stand behind the door. Scowling at the driving rain that was pelting his window, he stepped round his desk and fell into the cushy office chair.
"Governor Seaborn?" Came the request through the speakerphone on the pine desk.
"Yeah?"
"You have a visitor, sir."
"A visitor? What time is it?"
"Just after 8 a.m."
"Then why are you letting visitors in this early? Did they have an appointment?"
"Due respect, sir, I'm not letting them in, I'm asking for your permission."
Sam Seaborn sighed and let his body fall back into his chair. His assistant, Bethan, was getting stubborn already and he'd only been in the office two minutes.
"Alright…" Sam ran a hand over his eyes, "Who is it?"
"A student from Kennedy High, sir."
"You're joking."
Governor could both be a perfectly satisfying job and a perfectly mundane one, dependent on the day of the week. It was days like this that Sam dreaded. Come on, a high schooler? Sam didn't regret running for Governor, he just wished he could play a bigger part in the imminent Democratic resurgence. He wasn't sure the local government level suited him.
President Santos lost after 4 years. An unfortunate foreign policy decision made the decision for the voters, and 12 years of a Democratic White House came to an end. The staff went their separate ways; Sam hadn't spoken to many of them since. The election loss had broken them. It just seemed like they didn't have any part to play any more; like it was all out of their hands.
14 years later; the mid-point of the fourth successive term and second successive Republican President was beginning to get a little shaky. The economy was going down the pan due to over-isolationist policies. The dollar was dropping against the pound and the euro by the day and the voters were becoming dissatisfied with the lack of ground made on education after 14 years.
Sam can't have been the only Democrat to notice the opportunity. If they found the right candidate, the party would find themselves spring boarded straight back into the Oval Office in a heartbeat.
Sam sighed again as he thought, running a hand through his greying hair. He was in his mid-50s now, getting no younger, but he was willing to support the next candidate to the full extent of his ability.
"Governor Seaborn?"
"Wha-?" Sam was jerked out of his reminisce and back to the speakerphone conversation with Bethan.
"Can I send the visitor in?"
"What is he here for?" Sam put his glasses on and reached for the nearest pen. He heard mumbling over the speaker as his assistant asked the boy.
"…He says he is a member of Student Cartographers for Social Equality."
Sam nearly threw the pen back down on the desk when he heard the ridiculous request from his assistant. Was this serious? Cartographers? Social Equality? Wait…
"Sir?"
"Bethan, what day is it?" He asked.
"Monday."
"I meant the date."
"The 1st, Governor. It's the 1st of March."
No way.
Couldn't be a coincidence.
Even if it was, there was no way Sam could bring himself to refuse such a visitor on the first of the month.
"Send the kid in."
"Got it."
Sam adjusted his glasses as he glanced up at the now-opening door. In stepped a suited young teenager with a shock of messy brown hair that seemed to want to stick up as if to frame his face. He wasn't a tall boy, but he held himself well despite his skinny frame.
"Good morning, Governor, thank you for seeing me," the boy smiled as he gently closed the door shut behind him. Sam raised an eyebrow at the boy's obvious confidence.
"Good morning, I'm Sam Seaborn," Sam leant over his desk to shake the boy's hand. He motioned to one of the visitor's chairs, "Please, sit."
The boy shook his head, "If it's alright, sir, I would rather stand."
"Alright, be my guest," Sam shrugged before dropping back into his seat. He picked his pen up and began to loosely chew the end of it, "So… Student Cartographers for Social Equality. I've heard of guys like you. Africa's too small on the map, right?"
"Actually sir, I-"
"I'm sorry, I didn't ask your name," Sam glanced back up at the boy, pen still in hand.
The boy hesitated slightly, grimacing and placing a hand behind his head.
"Ummm…" The boy hesitated, "Ah!"
His hand was removed from his head and his finger shot up in one swift movement as if to signify that he had an idea. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out what looked to be a small piece of paper.
"Forgive me, sir, but I'm not from the Student Cartographers for Social Equality. In fact, I don't even think they exist."
Sam's eyebrows shot up, "Really…"
"I was sent here to give you this," he unfolded the piece of paper and held it out to Sam, "I was told under no circumstance to give you my name until you had received it."
Sam hesitated before accepting what turned out to be a white handkerchief. He frowned as he adjusted his glasses, glancing at what appeared to be some black writing on it.
It was a phone number.
"What-?"
"Turn it over."
Slowly Sam turned the handkerchief over, only to be met with the last thing he expected to see. In a familiar black scrawl, it said:
Seaborn for America
Sam nearly laughed out loud out of shock. Seaborn for America? But… That was like… It could only mean…
He glanced back up at the now-smirking boy that stood before him. The shock of chestnut brown hair. That familiar smile.
Seaborn for America…
"…I don't think I know what to say," Sam clutched the handkerchief tightly in his fingers as he studied the boy's features, "What did you say your name was again?"
"I didn't sir."
Sam waved his hands impatiently, "Well? What is it?"
"Leonard Lyman, sir."
This time, Sam laughed out loud. He sat back in his chair and pulled his glasses off.
"Leonard Lyman?" He asked incredulously, "Let me guess, your friends call you Leo?"
"That's correct, sir," Leo nodded.
"Leo Lyman… I don't believe it."
It made total sense really. Donna was pregnant when Santos left office. That would make him about the right age.
But 'Seaborn for America'? Josh really had a knack for getting in contact with old friends.
"Sir?" Leo interrupted Sam's thoughts, "If it's alright, I should go."
"Hm?" Sam made a questioning noise.
"You see, sir…" Leo looked a little more embarrassed now, "My father told me once I had given you the handkerchief to leave and not answer questions. He said leaving you to give him a call was 'all part of the fun'," he made quotation marks with his fingers, "Plus, I'm already going to be late for class. I only enrolled last week, sir, and I want to try and make a good impression"
Sam shook his head as he laughed, "That's fine, Leo," he had to emphasise the name to get himself to believe it, "Go to class. I'm sure I'll be in contact with your father soon enough, I only hope that he didn't move you to Nevada just because he wanted to give me this message."
Leo laughed and nodded, "I wouldn't be surprised, Governor. It was great to meet you."
"You too, Leo Lyman, you too."
As Leo turned to go, Sam's eyes drifted over to the small side-table that rested near his bookcase. On top lay an old battered chess set that had seen much use over the last 20-odd years. It carried with it the memory of an old friend.
You're going to run for President one day, Sam. Don't be scared. You can do it.
Sam was stunned. Josh wasn't serious, surely? There were plenty of better candidates out there than him. Sam was a decent speech writer, but he wasn't the greatest orator the world had ever seen. He'd even consider it to be better if the handkerchief was given the other way round - 'Lyman for America'.
"Oh… Governor?"
Sam was again pulled out of his thoughts and glanced back up at Leo, who was stood in the doorway. The young boy reached into his jacket pocket.
"I have something else for you, sir. Something my father said to give you if you let me in."
Leo threw a square package wrapped in brown paper over to Sam, who caught it in one hand. The Governor studied it for a second.
"What is it?" He asked as his hands fumbled over the wrapping. His eyes widened and his face involuntarily split into a grin as he opened it, "Oh…"
"It's a block of cheese, sir."
A/N Totally random. But I had to get it down. Please review!