Set in season 1, just before the final episode.
This is my first attempts at any FanFiction of any sort, so please R & R.
Disclaimer: Aaron Sorkin is a living legend, and I don't own the rights to any of the characters, or gubbins like that.
"Across The Pond": Chapter 1
7.30AM
"Good morning, Mr. President. Sleep Well?"
President Bartlet strode through the outer office into the Oval with authority. Charlie followed on with a stack of overnight papers is his hand, for the immediate attention of his boss. You can see from his eyes that he has not been in contact with a bed for quite some time.
"Yes Charlie, all 4 hours of it were like heaven on Earth. What time did you get in?"
"In from where, sir?"
"That's what I thought. What's next?"
"Papers from the Senate for your signature, sir, and you have senior staff in two minutes."
Sam Seabourn was sitting in his office, reading over the Wall Street Journal, highlighted to within an inch of its life by the Press Secretary. Though he too had not seen a bed for any length of time recently, he seemed remarkably fresh.
He was just about to lift a cup of very hot, very strong coffee to his mouth when a small rubber ball thumped against the glass partition. This snapped Sam out of his stupor, and distributed most of the coffee over his newspaper and lap.
"Jeez, Ow ow ow!"
"SAM!!"
"WHAT!?"
This was one of the rare occasions that Sam would ever shout at his superior. He had far too much respect for the man and well, frankly, he is scary.
"Senior staff, two minutes" Toby Ziegler appeared at his deputy's door. "You coming?"
Toby, in a gruff as ever manner, ushered toward the Roosevelt room. He peered in and stroked his beard in a thoughtful manner. Sam was leaping up and down, trying to pat off the searing hot coffee. He settled down, and analyzed the damage to his pants.
"You quite finished?" Toby said in his typically dry manner.
"I'll be over there in a minute," Sam limped over to his door and shut it in Toby's smug face, and drew the blinds. Sam, like any other senior staff member, would always keep a spare set of clothes in his office.
"DONNA!"
Josh Lyman was slumped over his desk, head in hand, trying to make sense of the binder staring him in the face.
"You know, I really hope you contract laryngitis one day!"
"Get me the numbers for the thing from last night."
"You need to stop being quite so vague, sometimes. And anyway, you're due in the Oval now"
Josh, startled by this piece of information, stared blearily at his watch.
"OK" He jumped up from his desk, ruffled his hair, and made for the door. Only Donna was stood in his way.
"Josh, find a mirror before you get into a room with the most powerful man in the Western World"
"Wha— What's wrong with the way I look?"
Donna reached down and picked up a small compact from her desk, opened it, and pointed it at Josh.
"Fair point".
7.35am
All of the senior staff is collected around the impressive wooden desk, and the equally impressive man behind it
"… last nights event seemed to go off without a hitch, and now it seems the Japanese are willing to drop there seal hunting proviso…"
Leo seemed proud with the night's achievements.
"I'm sure I ate a live squid" Josh butted in.
"… and there's no word from the Secretary of State in London yet."
The President looked baffled
"Still don't know why Lewis is over there. Could the meeting not be done over the phone?"
Leo knew the president wasn't happy about Berryhill being out of the country, but this was an important meeting with the British, and this is just the cost of business.
"Anyway, let move onto today's madness; what's next?"
"Senator Fuller would like two minutes to discuss the barracks closure in Maine." Josh was trying to get the daily ball rolling, with an issue he'd been arguing on the phone with for the last hour.
"Not today, next?"
Charile appeared at the door.
"Excuse me Mr. President. They would like you and Leo in the situation room right away."
"This can't be good," Leo replied, with gloom in his voice.
"Ok, we'll pick this up later"
The president and his chief of staff made for the door, leaving thier staff in the Oval.
7.40am
The President and Leo made their all too familiar walk down to the sit room, nether liked to talk about what was waiting for them down in the bowels of the building, so they just made small talk along the way.
"..I mean, its not as if they are our closest allies on the planet."
The President obviously had a bee in his bonnet.
"Except for the fact that they are!"
"What?! The British?"
"To be honest with you sir, no other nations really like us, even the Canadians"
"Pah!"
The dressed soldier opened the door for the pair, and they took there places at the long, mahogany desk.
"Fitz, please gimmie some good news, before I get all worked up before the day has even started!"
Admiral Fitzgerald gave a silent internal sigh, as he knew that the President was not going to like the information he was about to receive.
"Sir, we have word of a explosion."
"Where?"
"London, 2.20 PM local time."
The President sat down and stared into space. Slowly he turned to look at Leo. He took had a look of shock in his face.
"Any casualties?" the President asked, finally.
"A couple dead sir, and about 50 cuts and bruises."
"Any of our guys."
The President tensed up at the dread of hearing the worst news of all.
"We don't know yet, sir. It's chaos down there."