Fanfic: Poet in My Heart
Poet in My Heart

Jane Harper

RATING: PG-13
SYNOPSIS: Moving day for Sarah, moving-over day for Leo.
ARCHIVE: Sure. HTML available on request.
DISCLAIMER: I'm just a stowaway on the USS Sorkin. Don't throw me overboard, OK? Pretty please?

What a gawdawful day. Sarah Cooper burst through her front door only to be confronted with packing boxes everywhere, covering most of the living room floor and all the kitchen counters, and leaving barely enough room to navigate her wheels around the apartment. The next day she was moving, putting most of her furniture in storage, and for the first time in almost ten years she would no longer be living alone.

And she was as nervous about it as the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof.

She tossed off her work clothes and took a long, leisurely shower, then warmed up the kosher Chinese carry-out she had brought home and curled up on the sofa to read some of the proposals she had brought home from work. After a good hour and a half of trying to concentrate on work, she gave up, and just as she was digging her current mystery novel out of her briefcase, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Toots." It was Leo.

"Hey yourself. You still at work?"

"Yeah. Listen, can we have lunch tomorrow?"

"Well I have no plans for lunch, but can the free world do without you for awhile?"

"I'll ruin Josh's afternoon and make him stand in the gap for awhile."

"You know Josh loves it when you hand off to him." Sarah had known Josh Lyman since he was shot, and had seen him blossom over those months into a man who was ready to take charge when necessary. He had proven that the weekend Sarah and Leo's plane went down in Arizona, when Josh had needed to subdue a frantic President and coordinate the search for the missing Chief of Staff.

"That would be nice," she continued. "What time is good for you?" Grabbing her Digital Assistant out of her briefcase, she pulled up her schedule for the following day. "I'm free from 11 to 2, so whatever works for you is great for me."

After a moment, he said, "I'm not sure Margaret synched this before she left for the day yesterday, but at the moment it looks like 11:30 is open. Let's call it that unless you hear from her, OK?"

"Works for me. She'll call me if there's a change?"

"Yeah. See you tomorrow."

She waited for What They Didn't Say.

"Sarah .. ?"

She smiled. "I know. Backatcha. I'll see you tomorrow."

She returned to her mystery novel but hadn't read a page until the phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"Sarah?"

"Yes sir?" It was her boss, the Vice President.

"I was looking over the briefing memo you wrote me about the breakfast meeting tomorrow, and I realized I probably really do need you there."

Damn, she thought. Of all the days Hoynes would decide he couldn't start his morning without me. "Sir—" she began.

"That's not a problem, is it?" His tone said 'this-better-not-be-a-problem.'

"No sir."

"Well," he continued, "I know you're not a morning person, so I'll have my driver come by to pick you up. How's 6:30?"

Just dandy, she thought. Oh-dark-hundred. "That'll be fine, sir."

"See you then," he finished before hanging up.

Sarah looked at her watch. Eleven-thirty. She put the leftover Chinese in the refrigerator and was cleaning up her dishes when the phone rang again.

She resisted the serious desire to answer, "Grand Central Station!"

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom." It was Sam Seaborn.

"Hey yourself. 'T's up?" She and Sam had adopted one another, partly because Sam was dating Leo's daughter Mallory, and partly because she had a maternal fondness for him ever since they'd met the night of the Newseum shooting.

"I just wanted to remind you that you're having dinner with Mal and me tomorrow night."

"Thanks for doing that, tomorrow is shaping up to be Zoo Day."

"Why?" he sounded concerned.

"Well, Himself called and said he needs me for a breakfast meeting tomorrow . . ."

"Oh goody," he interrupted. "I know how much you love those."

". . . and Leo is taking me out for lunch. Or not."

"Or not?"

"Well, you know how things are with him. Somebody could start a war and then where would I be?"

Seaborn laughed. "Inconsiderate of them, wouldn't it be?"

"I know," she responded. "How dare they get in the way of my love life?"

"What time will you be here?" he asked finally.

"Oh, you know what? Hoynes is sending a car for me tomorrow—"

"He knows you," Sam interrupted again. "He knows it's not safe for you to drive before ten o'clock or so. You're not awake."

"Well in any case," she laughed again, "could you or Mal come pick me up at OEOB?"

"But that would leave your car at your place. How will it get over to Leo's?"

"You could drop me here after dinner and I could drive it over?" she suggested. "I'd see if somebody else could do it, but with the hand controls—"

"OK, that's what we'll do. I'll get Mal to pick you up at six."

"Great. I'll let you know if I get kept late."

"G'nite Mom."

"'Night, Sam."

She turned the ringer off and headed for bed.

The alarm went off at five-fifteen. Sarah managed to throw herself out of bed and into the shower, and was waiting with one eye open for the driver at six-thirty. They arrived at OEOB a few minutes before the breakfast meeting was to begin.

She was putting her briefcase and coat away when the office phone rang.

"Sarah Cooper."

"Sarah, it's Abbey," the First Lady said.

"Hi," Sarah responded.

"Listen, Jed wanted me to call and see if there is anything either of us can do or have done for you today. I know what a pain moving is even when you can be there, much more when you can't."

"Thanks Abbey, but I think it's all taken care of. Leo's guys are arriving at ten and Mallory is going to meet them at the apartment, make sure the stuff gets loaded and safely delivered, and then return the key. I'm a lot more worried about how I'm going to find anything to wear to work tomorrow!"

Sarah's friend laughed. "You forgot what I told you about Box One."

"You're right. I should have put one box with absolute necessaries in the van. And I'll be unpacking for two weeks at least, at the rate I'm able to take time to do it."

A knock on Sarah's door interrupted her.

"Gotta go, Abbey. My master's voice," she laughed.

"Do we still have a dinner date for next weekend?"

"You bet, even if Leo's not home and you and I have to batch it." Sarah knew that if Leo was up to his backside in alligators, chances were that Bartlet would be right there with him, and the two women would be eating alone.

"It might even be more fun that way. See you then if not before."

Sarah took her portfolio full of briefing memos and headed for the conference room.

The meeting droned on until midmorning, although the Vice President had been called away long before it adjourned. Sarah returned to her office exasperated, and found an email from Margaret.

Himself delayed. Will see you at one at PA Ave entrance. Margaret
Peachy, she thought. Breakfast at seven, lunch at one-thirty, I'm gonna eat this desk before he gets here.

By the time Leo's car arrived at one, Sarah was tired and cranky.

"Hey, Toots," he said as she got in.

"Hey yourself," she answered with a weary smile. "You know, I was sitting there feeling all worn out and grumpy and now I'm all better." She settled in next to him and leaned over on his shoulder.

"Don't fall asleep," he warned her with a grin.

"I don't understand how you morning people do it. Why did they even invent a clock with single digits??"

"Poor baby," he murmured, kissing her on the forehead. "Can you sleep in tomorrow?"

"If not, I'll just call in dead." She snuggled up to him. "Where are we going?"

"New place. You haven't been there before."

"Kosher?"

"Veggie."

"Close enough. You know, Abbey would be proud of you. You're being a good Leo and eating lots of vegetables to bring your nasty lipids down." She giggled.

"Nice Leo," he echoed. "Here, have a biscuit."

After a beat, he went on. "I have a confession to make, Toots."

"You're trading me in for two 25's?"

"Please! My heart!" He grabbed his chest in mock distress. "I can barely keep up with you!"

"Flatterer," she shot back.

"Fair point. But that doesn't mean I'm lying!"

They pulled up in front of the restaurant and got out, then went in and were seated right away in spite of several patrons waiting for tables. "See what ADA does for you?" Sarah quipped. "Stick with me, McGarry, I'll make sure you get a good table."

Once they had ordered and were sipping tea and waiting for their meals, Leo reached over and took Sarah's hand. "I really do have a confession to make," he said.

"OK, I'm braced," she responded.

"The kitchen—"

"Oh no." She shook her head. They had moved heaven and earth to make sure she could continue to keep a kosher kitchen after she moved.

"I'm afraid so, Toots. And all this after I studied for months to learn which fork to use."

"Is it too late to get my apartment back?" she asked with a sigh.

"Afraid so. You're stuck with me."

"Oh joy, oh rapture; oh rapture, oh bliss." She laughed and winked at him.

"You're not angry?" He gave her a hangdog look.

"How can I be angry at that face??"

"Seriously," he insisted.

"My sweet leprechaun," she began, "if we have to eat off paper plates for awhile, that's fine with me. If we have to exist on kosher Chinese carryout, that's OK too." After a beat, she added, "Kentucky Fried Chicken, however, is out of the question."

"Well there goes all the joy in my life," he deadpanned.

She grinned back. "Learn to live with frustration."

Lunch arrived.

All afternoon Sarah worried about how she was going to manage to keep kosher until she had a chance to kasher the kitchen, which is a fairly difficult and rigorous process involving lots of boiling water and elbow grease. It looked like it would be a long weekend, especially for someone who can't reach upper cabinets that nevertheless have to be scrubbed.

At six o'clock, Mallory McGarry O'Brien arrived to pick Sarah up and take her to dinner. The two women were to meet Sam back at his place; he was the evening's chef, and promised them a meal to be remembered.

"I haven't had Sam's cooking," Sarah remarked on the way over. "I hope he's good at it."

"He did quite a bit of research to make sure you could eat what he was fixing," Mallory responded. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."

The women arrived at Sam's condo and Mallory let them in with her key. After she had stashed her coat and Sarah's, Mal went into the dining room and opened the liquor cabinet. Reaching for a decanter, she turned to Sarah and waved a glass in her direction. "Sarah?"

"No, thanks, Mal. It's not my drug of choice, but still . . ."

"OK," the younger woman said, and poured herself a drink.

"When is Sam due home?" Sarah asked.

Mallory looked at her watch. "Right about now."

An hour and a half later, Sarah was wishing she had gone home to get her van.

"Just let me call a cab, Mallory," she said to the redhead.

"No, I can take you." Mallory grabbed their coats off the rack. "Sam Seaborn, you are so in trouble."

Sarah didn't envy him his next meeting with Mallory. Not one bit.

Sarah arrived back at her van at seven-thirty. She opened the side door and extended the ramp, then wheeled herself up and strapped in to go.

She turned the key, and nothing happened.

She tried again, and nothing happened.

What else can possibly go wrong today? she wondered.

Pulling out the cell phone Leo had given her – and that he insisted she carry – Sarah called the Auto Club. Thirty minutes later, the truck arrived. The driver opened the hood of the van, jiggled something, then said, "OK, start her up."

"What was it?" Sarah asked.

"Loose distributor cap," the woman said. "Strange, too. That sort of thing almost never happens unless somebody does it on purpose."

"Then that is strange," Sarah replied. "But thanks." She pulled out of the parking space for the last time.

Driving over to her new home, she began to puzzle, and to worry. Who would have wanted to keep her from driving, and why? She certainly associated with high-profile people, but how would harassing her affect them? Her work certainly wasn't important enough to attract anyone's attention, and to her knowledge she hadn't angered or offended anyone enough to make them wish her ill. Had the computer wars at the Department of Veterans Affairs gotten that nasty?

Arriving at the condo, she took out the keycard and opened the gate, finding her parking spot right by the elevator. She was dog tired and starving, and would have been ecstatic finally to be home, except for one thing: she still had to find an unpack something to wear to work the next day.

So she rolled up to the front door of the home she would now be sharing, and slipped the key into the lock.

It wouldn't turn.

Frustrated, exhausted, and hungry, she started to cry. Feebly, she knocked on the door, wondering if Leo was home before midnight for once. After a short while, he opened the door to see her sobbing.

"Hey, Toots, what happened?"

"What a horrible day!" she answered, rolling through the door, tears streaming. "Up at oh-dark-hundred, insufferable meeting all morning, lunch was late, bad news about the kitchen, Sam stood us up for dinner, somebody had messed with the van, and now my key won't work!"

"Wait a minute," he interrupted. "What's that about the van?"

"Somebody jimmied my distributor cap," she answered.

"And you didn't call me?"

"When did you become a mechanic? I called the Auto Club!" She had gone from frustrated and exhausted to angry.

"Sarah, somebody might be trying to hurt you."

"And why the hell would somebody want to do that? Don't be paranoid, it was just some kid having fun."

Sam walked out of the guest room. "No, Sarah, he's right. We should look into this."

"Sam? Where were you? What happened to dinner?"

He was followed shortly thereafter by Mallory, Josh, Donna, CJ, and Toby.

Sarah was very confused. "What's going on?" Looking around, she noticed that her boxes were not there. "And where's my stuff? Tell me it didn't get here."

Mallory came over and gave Sarah a hug. "It's here, sweetie. It's all put away. Dad got some people to unpack you. We meant to have a surprise welcome party for you tonight, so . . . well, we wanted to make sure you didn't get here too early."

"You guys did this on purpose? Who was in on this?"

"Everybody," CJ said.

"Everybody?"

"Yeah," Josh responded sheepishly. "Even your boss. We hauled your butt out at gawdawful o'clock to make sure . . . well, we just did."

Sarah got very quiet.

"We didn't do the thing with the van, Sarah," Donna added. When all the others turned to look at her, she concluded, "Well I thought we should say that."

Maybe somebody is trying to hurt me, she thought, as her hands started to shake. She started toward the kitchen. "I've got to fix myself something to eat, anybody else hungry?"

"No, you don't," Leo said, stepping between her and the kitchen.

"I haven't had dinner," she responded with an angry edge. "Please get out of my way."

"No, you don't understand," CJ chimed in. "It's already here—"

She walked into the kitchen and turned on the lights. Sarah couldn't believe her eyes.

The kitchen had been completely rebuilt, top to bottom, with all the extras required to fulfill the Jewish dietary laws. Two sinks, two refrigerators, two sets of everything. And a catered spread lay on the long flat table under warming lights.

"But— But— Leo, you said—"

He squatted down on his toes to look her in the eye. "Surprise," he murmured.

"This is why the locks were changed, Sarah," Mallory chimed in. "So you couldn't come in while the work was being done. I was supposed to switch your keys tonight, but I didn't have the chance."

Sarah looked around the room from one smiling, concerned face to another. "Well, if dinner's there, somebody get some plates!" Then she leaned forward and kissed Leo, long and deep. "You are one lucky bastard," she murmured after they parted.

"Why?"

"I didn't take my shillelagh to work today," she answered. "If I'd come in with that honking great stick, you'd be black and blue by now."

"C'mon, Toots, I wouldn't let you lay a hand on me," he grinned. "Not in front of anybody, at least . . ."

Standing behind them, Sam cleared his throat. Loudly.

Sarah looked up at him. "What, you next?" she grinned.

"Shhhh," he answered. "I thought you didn't want them to know!"

Leo stood and looked up at the taller and younger man. "Am I gonna have to turn you over my knee, son?"

"That's my privilege," Mallory responded, as Leo whipped around agape.

"Quick, somebody put a kishke in there," Toby quipped, pointing at Leo's open mouth as everyone laughed.

Then, wordlessly, Leo took a box out of his briefcase and handed it to Sarah.

In the small cardboard Tiffany box lay a silver keychain with a key attached.

"Tiffany is making your keys now?" she squeaked, wide-eyed.

"Oh read the damn inscription," Leo responded, grinning.

Sarah—you are the poet in my heart. Never change. Love, Leo.

"How fast can you guys eat?" she asked, looking around at her friends.

"First things first," Toby muttered. "Dinner now. He can wait till Shabbos for dessert."

Leo's jaw dropped. "Toby, it's Tuesday!"