Something Worth Fighting For

by smoria

Toby's life is threatened by anti-semitism. Second in a series of five stories

Something worth fighting for

By Sheila

All of the characters herein are the property of Aaron Sorkin and whoever signs his paychecks. I use them because they are wonderful and complex and because I cannot get them out of my head.

This story is best read after Something To Talk about which can be found on Qdaman's, Testytoads, and Janice's sites. This story is a continuation of that storyline.

And, yes, it is primarily a Toby story. And, yes, there are some CJ/Toby dynamics. But it's a long story and there are a lot of your other favorites in here as well. There is a lot of Josh, Donna, Sam, Leo, Margaret, Jed and Abby Bartlett.

One last thing; this story has some stuff about computers and the internet in there. Basically I am an idiot when it comes to those subjects. Cindy from the RS e-group helped me some, but basically I made things up. Please forgive me if anything sounds blatantly wrong to you.

I hope you enjoy it and I would love to hear from you. My e-mail address is SMORIA9016@prodigy.net

The mama duck turned once to count her large brood before launching herself with a plop into the reflecting pool that stretched out in front of the Washington Monument. One by one, her plump, yellow-gray offspring tumbled in after her. They lined up behind her as she swam lazily across the pool.

She stopped once to fluff her down. Then she circled around her ducklings as if to ensure of their presence. They seemed content merely to follow behind her, making up a long, crooked tail.

"God, I wish my life could be like that," CJ said with passion. "Clear cut. Simple. Serene."

"Okay, so now I am confused." Puzzled Josh beside her on the park bench.

"What?"

"I am sitting here prepping you for the AFL-CIO dinner tonight and you jump in with how you want the simple, serene life of a labor organizer. Have you been smoking something, CJ? The words, simple and serene, have never been uttered by a labor organizer. Haven't you ever heard of Jimmy Hoffa?"

"Oh shoot, Josh, I'm sorry. I wasn't really listening to you. I was thinking about something else." CJ was gathering up the remains of her hot dog.

"Okay, well, thank you for that."

"Josh," She said ignoring his attempt at self-pity. "I was watching that family of ducks over there." She pointed at them meandering slowly across the water.

He looked at the ducks and then took note of the wistfulness in CJ's eyes as she gazed at the reflecting pool. He sighed briefly and caught her eyes.

"Are we about to have a Toby conversation?" He asked warily.

"Why, is there something more to say?" She said defensively.

"Sure and not really."

"Josh!"

"What do you want me to say? I don't get it. Three months ago, the two of you left Camp David as flushed as a couple of kids on prom night, all glances and giggles. It was cute as hell. We all thought you were going to be happy people.

Later, you tell me that the two of you are going to take it slow. So far, so good, I think. Then the craziness starts." Josh shook his head at her and continued.

"Now, CJ, you have to understand that we expect it from Toby. We know that he is an insane, maniac person.

You were the surprise, CJ, you and your 10,000 steps to the perfect relationship."

"I got scared."

"I'll say. Single handedly, you turned dating into something along the lines of quantum physics. I have never seen so many complex expectations in my life." Josh adopted a feminine tone. "He should have talked to me before the briefing, but he didn't. He shouldn't have talked to me after that meeting, but he did. He looked at me. He didn't look at me." "Who could navigate all of your fears and insecurities? It never had a chance." He finished with a look of frustration. CJ had a stricken look on her face. Josh was suddenly sorry that he had been so flippant.

"Josh, I thought that if we were careful, really careful, we wouldn't get hurt. If we had all the right boundaries, did all the right things…" She paused for a minute trying to put her feelings into words. "Falling for him was so intense. I guess I thought that I might lose myself. I don't know. But it doesn't matter anymore 'cause he let go."

"No, he didn't," Josh countered passionately. "He was very patient, eerily patient for Toby, in fact. He would still be hanging in there today if it wasn't for the fact that you chipped away at the already tenuous belief he had that he could be good for you. You convinced him of what he had been worried about all along, that he would only hurt you."

CJ remembered her last strained conversation with Toby. It had been about a month ago and they were talking on the phone. She was frustrated at her inability to let the relationship take its own course. Toby was confused. His confusion and her fears boiled over into anger and she exploded. "It hurts too much to keep trying at this!" She yelled into the phone. The response was silence. Then he apologized softly and hung up the phone. After that, they had both withdrawn into themselves, returning to the isolated existence that so threatened any chance they had at happiness.

"What do I do?" CJ hissed trying to hide the tears spilling onto her cheeks.

Give it up, CJ. Neither of you can stand much more of this. You're torturing yourselves. And none of the rest of us can bear to watch it anymore."

CJ's heart sank. "Tell me to keep fighting!" She wanted to scream at him. "Help me, Josh. Be my encouragement." Her heart cried out, but her mouth couldn't form the words. She so depended on Josh. He was all strength and courage and persistence. He never gave up on anything.

He seemed to be reading her mind. Gently, he put his arm around her and pulled her to him.

"CJ, it's hard to watch you hurt like this. It's hard to watch him too. He looks so miserable all the time, much more than is his natural state of being."

"Josh, I think I love him."

"The two of you are proof positive that it takes more than love to make a relationship work."

She laid her head on his chest and he stroked her hair. Josh hated the tone he had taken. He was a fighter and he wanted to help CJ fight for Toby. But it was going nowhere and taking a toll on both of them.

Sam entered Toby's office tentatively. The older man was looking out the window lost in thought. He didn't hear Sam enter which did not bode well. A startled Toby was generally a crabby Toby. Sam cleared his throat for effect. Toby's dark head didn't move. Sam was considering his next move when a sharp "what!" resounded from the still figure at the window.

"Well, sorry to disturb you, Toby. I want to go over some revisions with you for the president's speech this evening."

"Yeah." The head nodded slightly but still he didn't turn.

Sam hesitated for a moment to consider the possible consequences of an observation he wanted to make. His best-case scenario had him merely being yelled at. His worst-case scenario had him being thrown bodily out of the White House. "Or you don't say anything at all." He thought to himself. This would be the path of most people, but Sam was just trying it on for size. He knew he was going to say his piece and damn the consequences.

"Uh, Toby, before we look over this stuff, I wanted to say something to you."

"What." Demanded Toby. He turned to regard Sam with a suspicious eye.

"It's just that, well, you should be a happier guy."

"I should be a happier guy?" Toby's face wrinkled in confusion.

"You had the beginnings of some happiness," Sam soldiered on. "At Camp David, I mean. And I'm not clear why that hasn't continued."

"What do you want from me, Sam?"

"I want you to not be miserable. I want you to figure out a way to get through to a certain press secretary that we both know."

"And you would like to offer me some dating advice, I suppose."

"I might know a few things."

"You!" Toby gave him an incredulous snort. "Aren't you the guy who can't recognize a call girl without a name tag?"

"Well, I …"

"No, no, no. I know you. You are the guy who has spent the last year letting the boss's daughter lead you around by the nose hairs. Every time she swoops in, you wear a "deer caught in headlights" look on your face for at least a week."

"Toby!"

"You would like to give me some advice, huh?" Toby gave him a pointed look.

"Forget it." Sam mumbled. He hadn't considered humiliation among his case scenarios. But now it ranked right up there with being booted out the door. Forgetting his original purpose, he headed for the door.

"Sam, wait! Please!" It was Sam's turn to eye him suspiciously.

"Sam, sit down. Sometimes the "pain in the ass' in me needs to get out and take a little spin."

"Would this be your version of an apology?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far, Sam."

They looked at each other silently for a moment. Despite himself, Sam broke into a grin. It was just too hard for him to stay sullen. Toby allowed him a twinkle in his eye.

"Sam, you are a horribly good man. And although this irritates me immensely on a daily basis, I appreciate your attempts to help. It's just that I think this thing has sort of run its course." Toby sighed deeply and then shook his head a little as if trying to loosen the demons within. Sam sat beside him silently.

"Sam, show me the revisions." Toby said quickly before Sam could ooze any more support in his direction.

"I threw in a little imagery. I thought we would have the president wax poetic a little."

"You what?"

"Well, you said that the president seemed a little dry lately."

"Sam, I have a little imagery for you. I want you to picture the average teamster. He's a big guy, Sam, a real physical kind of guy. He considers himself the salt of the earth. This is a guy who believes that the federal government is putting the screws to him on a daily basis. He trusts us as he would a pet rattler. He is going to be listening to every word that the president says tonight. Then he's going to order a transcript of the speech so that he can study it for the next three months for all of the suspected hidden meanings. This is your audience, Sam."

"So…no imagery then."

"You're really picking up my meaning there, Sam."

"Dry as toast, then."

"You are a smart boy, Sam."

"Nothing left to guesswork, then."

"Now you are just annoying me, Sam."

Leo winced as another round of coughing came from the desk outside his office. He had just returned to his briefing memo when the coughing erupted again.

"That's it!" He said throwing his pen onto the desk. He grabbed the phone, prepared to implement the plan that he had been forming in his head all week.

"Abby," he said into the phone. "She's going to drive me into my grave. I swear to you that she is."

A few minutes later, he put down the phone and sat back, waiting for the first lady to appear. "Margaret won't get by the first lady," he thought with some satisfaction. He closed his eyes and waited for the drama to commence. He opened his eyes a few minutes later to see a startled Margaret being ushered into his office in front of a firm Abby Bartlett with medical bag in hand.

"Margaret," Leo began, "You leave me no choice. I can't have you starting some manner of epidemic in my front office."

"But Leo, I'm fine." Sniffed a flushed Margaret.

"No, Margaret, you are a crazy person who has been trying to cough up a lung since Tuesday. And you apparently need to do it in front of me because you don't believe in sick days."

"You never take them." Margaret said accusingly.

"Margaret, it doesn't matter how punctual and consistent you are, the White House does not have a perfect attendance certificate for you."

"Okay you two, that's enough." Abby warned. She led Margaret to a chair and motioned her to sit.

"Margaret," She said, "I heard your coughing from down the hall. This is not something you can ignore. I am going to listen to your chest, check your temperature, your pulse, and a few other things."

"Abby, all week long, I've asked her, I've begged her, I've threatened her, all in an effort to get her to a doctor. I even fired her!" Leo complained.

"Yeah, that always works." Mumbled Margaret through the thermometer.

"I heard that, Margaret." Leo growled.

"Enough!" Abby thundered. She was trying to listen to Margaret's lungs with her stethoscope. Leo and Margaret had to content themselves with competing glares. Not daring to further irritate the first lady, they both refrained from further conversation. Abby pulled out the thermometer and made tsking noises, shaking her head at the both of them.

"Well." Braved Leo. Abby ignored Leo and turned to Margaret.

"You have pneumonia, Margaret. You have a temperature of 103.3, your lungs sound like Niagara Falls, and your pulse is fast. You can't be at work like this. You need antibiotics, some rest, and some attention immediately."

"I don't feel so bad."

"Yes you do," Abby insisted, "Don't fight with me on this. Leo will be fine without you."

As she said this, she noted the look on Margaret's face.

"Okay, he won't be so fine," She added hastily, "but he will manage. You deserve a break, Margaret. You have taken excellent care of Leo. The success of his hip rehabilitation is due in large part to your diligent attention. It's time you took care of yourself."

Margaret sat silently through this. She seemed to sense that all her escape routes were blocked. Realizing she was cornered, she threw out one more shot before capitulating.

"You can't wait to get someone else at my desk."

"Oh right, Margaret. This whole thing is some sort of Machiavellian plot on my part to violate your files."

"Well, this has been fun," said Abby barely able to maintain her patience, "Margaret, my assistant, Sally, is going to take you over to Bethesda Naval for a more thorough exam and treatment."

Margaret looked heartbroken. Abby patted her back gently and kneeled beside her.

"You are going to be fine. They are going to take good care of you. By tonight, you'll probably be at home watching old movies and feeling much better. Sally is waiting right outside. She's going to take you over now."

"Get better soon, Margaret." Leo said to her retreating back. The fun of his victory had dissolved quickly in the face of her despair. As she disappeared out the door, he looked at Abby.

"She's gonna be okay, right?"

"Pneumonia is a serious thing, Leo. But she's going to get excellent care."

"Okay, but you're going to keep me updated, right?"

"If I hear anything, you will be the first to know. Hey, why don't you come over with me to our quarters. We'll have cup of coffee before the teamsters descend upon us."

I wish I could, Abby, but I gotta prepare for these guys. Economists and labor leaders mix like oil and water. I get to be the president's blue-collar connection tonight. I gotta convince these guys that Jed Bartlett is more than just an economics professor who sees issues from the perspective of management."

"I'll tell Jed to play up that summer he spent picking cabbages for Caesar Chavez." Abby said, her eyes twinkling. She blew him a kiss before sailing out the door.

Toby tried to keep his eyes open as he sat in his regular place at temple. He liked to get there early, at least half an hour before services began. It was a contemplative time for him. He would talk to God a little, reviewing for him the events of the week and his part in them.

But today, he was too tired to concentrate on his weekly chat with God. The dinner had been long and arduous. Toby hadn't even gotten to bed until 3:30 a.m. Still being a creature of habit, the previous night's events didn't stop him from being in his regular seat at his regular time.

He found himself replaying the disaster that would forever after be known as the labor disunion dinner. It had started with Sam's speech which read just a little drier than one of the president's textbooks. By the end of it, he knew that they would all be ordering transcripts because half of the room was asleep. Several people had to be poked just so they would be awake for the soup course.

The president sat with the head of the teamsters. A friendly discussion about the incongruence of labor unions in a free market economy turned into a full-fledged battle. By the dessert course, the two men were studiously ignoring one another. Leo was no great help either. He was distracted the entire evening. And when he wasn't, he was busy terrorizing the two young women personnel had sent over to replace Margaret. Margaret apparently was not answering her phone at home and Leo wanted her replacements to get to the bottom of it. Leo was exhibiting no patience. One of them asked him why Margaret would be hiding from him. The look he gave her was truly dangerous. Josh had Donna hustle them off before any real damage could be done.

The situation with CJ wasn't even a little better. She had done her utmost to put as much space between herself and him as humanly possible which left her barely within viewing range at the other end of the dining room for most of the evening.

The only saving grace had been Josh whose maternal grandfather was a famous labor organizer from the 30's. He regaled his table with tales of lockouts, strikes, and fights with company paid mercenaries. They ate up all that agitator history. Toby wished that someone had shown the good sense to seat Josh between the president and the teamster head.

Toby noticed that the synagogue was starting to fill up. He nodded at Mrs. Wise as she took her usual place several feet to his left. He was always comforted by the presence of this grand old lady, herself a survivor of Buchenwald. He missed her when she didn't show. And yet he appreciated that she always allowed him space for his own thoughts and worship.

The singing was beautiful today and he found himself feeling refreshed and hopeful about the week to come. He even considered the possibility of a civil conversation with CJ. The rabbi entered and Toby waited for the service to begin. Then he heard a hissing sound. It was persistent like steam escaping from a radiator. A strange feeling began to invade his stomach. He stood up determined to locate the sinister noise. The people around him were beginning to shift in their seats. Convinced that the noise was coming from somewhere behind him, he headed for the aisle. He never made it. The explosion was heard four blocks in all directions.

Leo was in his office that morning. He enjoyed Saturday mornings at the office. The West Wing was usually quiet and he was generally allowed to work undisturbed. Today had not started out that way. He still had not heard from Margaret. First, Bethesda said that she had been discharged. Now, they weren't so sure. They would get back to him. Her apartment was empty. He had woken her super last night to check and then again this morning. He knew that she had a sister in town, but he couldn't think of her damned name. The replacements were here again this morning. They reminded him of rabbits. They jumped every time he made a noise. He prayed that competency would wander into the lives of both his rabbits and the staff at Bethesda soon.

He had no time to further ponder Margaret's disappearance as Ron Butterfield strode unannounced into his office and closed the door.

"Does Toby Ziegler attend services at Temple Zion on Delaware? He asked without preamble.

"I don't know. What's happened, Ron?"

A few minutes later, he was on the phone with all of his key people. His stomach sank as all of his calls to Toby's many numbers went unanswered. Sam then confirmed that Toby did in fact worship at Temple Zion. Leo's bad day became a nightmare.

Leo screamed repeatedly at both of them on the phone. First, he wanted Josh at the temple and Sam at the emergency rooms. Then he wanted them both together. "Who the hell knows if you aren't targets yourselves?" He theorized at one point. Josh attempted reason, but Leo wasn't interested in anyone else's ideas. Any suggestions were met with admonitions to "Shut up and Listen!" Sam was ordered to get his cab over to Josh's apartment. As anxious as he was to get to the hospital, Sam chose in this moment to obey his chief. He didn't really believe that he was a target, but the tenor of Leo's commands were not to be ignored.

He picked up Josh and they headed for the synagogue. Josh was silent. Sam could see the rage building inside of him. For awhile, the only sounds in the cab came from Sam who heaped abuse upon the cabby in an effort to bolster his performance. Then the phone calls started. Leo was calling about every five minutes to throw his own abuse their way.

Josh heard from Ron Butterfield who was in contact with DC police at the scene. Fire was still raging inside the synagogue, but everyone had been evacuated. DC police indicated that most of the injured had been taken to area hospitals. Ron believed that, at this point, they would have more luck finding Toby at a hospital than at the temple.

Sam ordered the abused cabby off in the direction of Washington General. Leo called again. He was with the president. They both were anxious for some news. He harassed Sam for a few minutes while Sam tried to explain the vagaries of DC traffic. "Find him!" was the only response he got before he heard a click.

Sam turned his head to the front as Josh shouted out an expletive. The road ahead was jammed with traffic and emergency vehicles. They were dead in the road. The cabdriver tried to explain that with the explosion, traffic was being rerouted all over the city but Josh wasn't interested.

"How close are we to the damn hospital?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"About a mile, I would suppose."

"Sam, pay the man." Said Josh already halfway out the door.

Sam caught up with Josh as he was running through traffic. Josh wore that determined look that Sam knew all too well. He hoped that he could keep up. It wasn't athleticism that made him wonder. Sam was every bit as good an athlete as Josh. It's just that Josh forgot himself in moments like these. He could be so single-minded that he wouldn't notice exhaustion or strain. Before Sam could worry about this further, the phone rang again, this time on Josh. Josh never stopped or slowed. He merely put the phone to his ear for a moment. Then he turned his body and flipped the phone at Sam. "It's Leo." He shouted before disappearing around a corner. A stunned Sam stopped and put the phone to his ear. Leo was in mid-rant and not pleased that he had lost his intended caller. Sam tried to jog and listen as Leo served up Josh's punishment on him.

CJ paced her office anxiously. When Leo called, he had little to say. Once she arrived, she found the West Wing in some chaos. Leo was having trouble getting any kind of coherent information from the scene. He had set himself up in the Oval Office with phones and people all around him. She watched as he barked orders at people and into phones. The President was on the phone at his desk using a much quieter tone. CJ suspected that he was speaking to some of the country's Jewish leadership. He glanced up, saw her standing there looking lost, and he motioned her over. Putting down the phone, he looked up at his press secretary.

"Claudia," He began gently. "This is not the place for you right now." He could sense that she was starting to bristle.

"What I mean is that you should be in your office fielding press calls. Leo's in another world right now. He's not going to be able to give you a decent update for some time."

"I am no good to anyone especially the press if I don't have information." She said defensively. "Besides, the press doesn't know about Toby yet. I have no calls coming in."

"We don't know that Toby was there." He reasoned. From the look on her face, he could tell that she wasn't interested in any kind of false hope. They both knew that Toby was at Shul every Saturday morning without fail.

"I want to be in the loop." She said firmly.

"And you will be. But this place is too crazy right now. You will be my first call the minute we have anything solid. I promise you."

She nodded reluctantly and turned to leave. At the door, she stopped once and looked back. The President had already returned to his many phone calls.

Here it was half an hour later and she had heard nothing. CJ found that her frantic pacing was the only thing that allowed her some semblance of control. There was a soft knock at the door and she jumped. Abby Bartlett walked in wearing a grim smile of sympathy.

"I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Do you know anything?" CJ responded desperately.

"Not really. I just stopped at the Oval Office. The only thing I know is that Sam and Josh are having some trouble with traffic. When I left, Leo was trying to spur them on with his own special brand of encouragement."

"They keep trying to kill us, Abby." CJ had adopted a haunted tone. She resumed her pacing.

"CJ."

"They tried six months ago, and now they are doing it again today."

"We don't really know what's going on right now." Abby reasoned.

"We've been so lucky,' Continued CJ ignoring the First Lady's logic, "Sam is almost as good as new. And every time I see Leo, he seems to need that cane less and less."

"We've been fortunate."

"You know it can't last, Abby. This kind of luck never lasts. Maybe today is the day, you know. Maybe today it runs out." CJ was having trouble maintaining her composure.

"I don't know what to tell you, CJ. I am praying that today is not that day." Abby said softly working not to minimize CJ's fears. "Come sit with me." She gestured to CJ from her spot on the couch. "We'll wait together. And we won't let our fears rule us until we know the facts."

The young woman approached Leo quietly. The Oval Office was crowded with people busy with phones and each other. It took her some time to maneuver herself close to the chief of staff. She waited until he noticed her presence. In her extended hand lay a note. Leo recognized her as one of his rabbits. He grabbed the note and read it quickly.

"She's in intensive care!" He bellowed getting the attention of most of the room. "What the hell is going on?"

"Susan has gone over to Bethesda to personally get an update."

"Who the hell is Susan?"

"The other rabbit." She said with meaning and then retreated back into the crowd. Leo stared after her as she disappeared. He decided he would have to worry about that situation later. Right now, he had a communications director missing in action and a critically ill Margaret. He shook his head brutally at the insanity of it all and tried to concentrate on who would be next to receive his considerable attentions.

Sam thought that his lungs would explode. Normally he could do a mile run with no problem. But it was a different matter when a person is running decked out in wingtips and a suit, while trying to reason with his boss on the phone.

He spotted Josh at one of the hospital doors engaged in some sort of dispute with hospital security. The hospital grounds were a zoo. There was a wide array of emergency vehicles parked, backing in, or taking off. Medical personnel were everywhere, running and barking orders as they escorted the injured inside.

"I swear to God that by the time I am done with you, you will be pushing a broom for the parks department!" Josh was thundering at the security guard as Sam approached.

"Stop it, Josh." Sam admonished his friend. He turned to the young guard who appeared completely unfazed by Josh's bluster.

"We're with the White House. An official close to the president may have been injured in this tragedy. We need to get inside and find him." Sam said calmly showing the young man his White House identification.

"I already told him all of that!" Josh exploded.

"All I recall is a lot of yelling and threats out of you." Retorted the guard. "You can get in for sure." He said to Sam. "Him I don't know." He wouldn't even look in Josh's direction. Josh, on the other hand, looked about ready to grab the kid by the throat.

"Don't worry. I'll watch him." Said Sam quickly pushing Josh through the door ahead of him.

The scene in front of them was madness. There seemed to be people everywhere. A wet, sooty smell floated around them. Sam could see that finding Toby was not about to get any easier. It seemed as though every chair and space along the wall was taken by someone wearing burnt clothing and dazed looks. The air was filled with a mixture of groans, sobs, orders, and shouts. Feeling dazed themselves, Sam and Josh walked slowly about the room searching for Toby. Josh spotted a nurse behind a desk. She was frantically working and didn't look up as they approached.

"Excuse me, Miss," Josh was trying a whole new approach now. "We need to know if a friend of ours is here."

"You and everyone else in this city." She said still not looking up.

"This is really important," Sam tried. "This friend is an important government official who may have been in the explosion."

"Look. I am not trying to be evasive here." She looked up this time and they could see her sincerity. "The information you need doesn't exist yet. Right now, we are doing triage. We'll have that kind of information for you in a couple of hours."

"We don't have that kind of time." Josh said desperately.

"I don't know what I can tell you." She threw her arms up in the air. They turned away dejected and prepared to resume their person by person search. She yelled after them, "Wait!"

"There's a Rabbi Glassman around here somewhere. He was just looking for the same thing. He seems to know everyone who came in here. There he is." She said pointing to a soot-covered man kneeling beside an elderly woman. As they turned to leave, Josh mouthed a thank you to her.

"Rabbi, sir, we are so sorry to bother you at such a time as this." Began Sam tentatively as he approached the man.

"Rabbi Glassman, we are looking for Toby Ziegler," Josh jumped in more forcefully.

"And you gentlemen are…?" The rabbi began with an understandable touch of wariness.

"We work with him. We're his friends." Said Sam.

"Did this happen because of…were they trying to kill Toby?" He asked searching their faces.

"We don't know, rabbi, but we need to find him. Have you seen him?" Josh added with a touch of impatience.

"I saw him this morning. He was seated early as usual. But when the explosion happened, I lost track of so many people. We were stunned. There was smoke everywhere and then the fire." The rabbi remembered with glazed eyes.

"Have you seen him since the explosion?" Sam asked hopefully.

"No, I would have remembered. If you don't find him here, there are other hospitals that took congregants. And then there is the morgue." He shook his head sadly. "I am told that there were causalities."

Josh looked up at the ceiling trying to maintain some level of calm. He wanted out of this place. He didn't want to see any more bruised or damaged people. And he certainly didn't want to find Toby in a morgue. Josh was a man of action and he needed to be somewhere where he wasn't so helpless. Rage had become a physical presence growing inside of him. He didn't want to see the rabbi's sad, exhausted eyes. He wanted to see outrage and anger, not the tired acceptance of a man who believed the facing atrocity was a part of Jewish life. Beside him, Sam could feel the growing rage. He placed his hand on Josh and turned him away from the rabbi.

"Josh." He hissed.

"He is so complacent, Sam." Josh whispered angrily.

""You think that he's complacent?" Said Sam incredulously. "I think he's in shock. The anger will come later. What's the matter with you?" The younger man scolded. Josh avoided his eyes.

Sam turned to speak again to the rabbi but he was gone. Sam scanned the room and hallways looking for him. He finally spotted him at the end of a long hallway kneeling before a dark figure who was crouched on a bench. The rabbi looked up and caught his eye. Keeping his gaze on Sam, he pointed to the man in front of him. The man turned his head at the rabbi's direction and Sam could see a dark, familiar face. "Toby!" He yelled grabbing Josh and pulling him down the hallway after him.

It had been a quiet cab ride back to the White House. Toby had insisted that he was fine. After that, he wasn't interested in conversation. At the hospital, Sam had suggested that they wait for a doctor, but Toby was already looking for the door and Josh was happy to oblige him.

They had to run interference for him once they got to the White House. Everyone knew what was happening and wanted to offer support and sympathy. Toby didn't even seem to notice the genuine affection with which people approached. There was something about the way Toby moved his body and the glassy look in his eyes that made Sam wish they had stayed at the hospital.

The President didn't wait for them to get to the Oval Office. He came bounding down the hall with Secret Service in tow. He stopped short when he got a good look at Toby.

"Oh, boy, you really had a day, didn't you?" He exclaimed.

"Yes, sir." Toby answered quietly looking down at the floor.

"Josh, get everybody except Leo out of my office now." He said never taking his eyes off Toby. "We could probably use a few minutes of quiet."

"Did you see a doctor?" He asked.

"He insisted he was fine." Sam responded weakly. The President gave him a look.

The President took over for Sam, putting his arm around Toby and leading him into the Oval Office. People had gathered up their things and were heading out the side door. Leo was still on a conference call handing out threats to any enforcement agency that was not 100% cooperative in this investigation.

"I want these idiots caught." He growled. "And I want to hear that you are all cooperating with one another in an effort to do just that. No excuses! I want you to act as friendly as a bunch of schoolgirls at a slumber party." He slammed the phone down for effect and then immediately found a grin for Toby whom the President seated carefully on the couch in front of him.

"Do we know anything? Were they after me? Were they after the synagogue?" Toby asked with haunted eyes.

"The investigation is just getting started. Don't you worry, Toby. I am going to have everyone but the kitchen staff working on this thing."

Toby nodded distractedly.

"Toby, if you don't mind me saying so, you don't look so hot." Said Leo who had exchanged his grin for a worried look.

At that moment CJ rushed through the door with Abby Bartlett trailing after her. CJ gave a small gasp upon seeing Toby. She saw a dazed man, covered in soot and bruises. He looked back at her for a moment as if she were the only one in the room. She could sense the pain radiating from him. Then he dropped his head wearily. When CJ tried to move to him, Abby stopped her.

"He's in shock." She said into CJ's ear. "Let me take a look at him." She made a sign to Sally who was standing at the door and the young woman disappeared.

"I don't suppose anyone thought the medical attention might be a good idea." She said sarcastically to the men in the room as she rounded the couch and sat beside Toby. Sam tried to form a response, but the president waved him down.

"I am fine." Toby mumbled unconvincingly as Abby began to look him over.

"You are the second person in 24 hours to lie to me about that." She said shooshing him when he attempted to respond. She picked up a wrist to take his pulse.

From the doorway, Carol motioned to CJ. She was reluctant to break away from the group gathered around Toby, but she knew that she had responsibilities. At the door, she almost ran into Sally who was bringing in the First Lady's medical bag.

"Give us some room." Scolded an irritated Abby Bartlett, prompting the group to take a collective step back.

"I suppose you all thought he looked just fine." She continued wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his arm. "Maybe you were hoping to involve him in a little pick-up basketball later this evening, huh? Wanted to make sure that you had enough players, was that it? God forbid anyone around here be encouraged to take care of themselves." She threw her husband a glare.

"Well, ma'am, what happened was…" Began Sam before he was interrupted.

"Sam, I implore you not to respond to the First Lady right now." Jed Bartlett begged. "My wife is not waiting for any responses. In fact, responses can often be quite hazardous."

You got that right, Pumpkin." Added the First Lady as she began to gingerly feel his bones.

"We just take our punishment, all of us, deserved or otherwise." Said the President matter-of-factly.

Before the First Lady could continue her tirade, Toby let out an agonizing howl of pain. Leo and Josh each gave a little shudder. She had been feeling his right shoulder at the time. Calming him, she began to touch softly around the painful area.

"Does it hurt when you breathe?"

"I don't know." He mumbled. Abby stopped her work and looked him in the eye.

"Yes." He admitted miserably.

"I don't like the look of these ribs." Abby had opened up his shirt and was carefully probing the right side of his chest.

'Well, then don't look at them." Toby growled through clenched teeth. Her probing was seriously threatening his attempts to stay stoic. Abby smiled in spite of herself.

"You're an original, Toby Ziegler, you know that. We got lucky today because originals can never be replaced." Then she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Through his grief and pain, Toby tried to offer her a grateful look.

That small, sweet moment resonated powerfully through the men in the room who had spent the day being exposed to nothing but the outrage of a needless tragedy. Jed Bartlett smiled at the woman, his woman, who could yield such power.

The spell was broken as CJ entered with Ron Butterfield behind her. CJ was deathly pale and she was nervously fingering a piece of paper she had in her hands.

"Ron wants to give you a quick update on how everything is coming together." She said unsteadily.

"Good." Announced Leo. "Ron is going to be our liaison with the other agencies throughout this investigation. DC police seems happy to have the back-up. Right now, we have the FBI, Justice for the hate angle, Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms for the bombing, …I don't know, anyone else, Ron?"

"CIA's got some guys who do amazing stuff with computers. I got a strange call from one of the internet servers. It might be related to this thing. We're checking it out now. But I think that we might need these guys." Ron said firmly clearly leaving the impression that he wasn't yet ready to say more. Leo took the hint.

"I'll talk to the CIA this afternoon. What else do you have for us, Ron?"

"We have a team with everyone represented meeting in half an hour over at Justice. We're going to map out a plan and establish everyone's territory." Ron turned his eyes to Toby. "I realize that you have been through a lot today, Toby. But it would be really helpful if you could answer a few questions for me before I head over to that meeting. Something you say may help us know where to start."

Toby nodded. He attempted to rise. Before Abby could protest, Butterfield raised a hand.

"No need to get up." He said quickly. "Just a few simple things. Stay where you are." Toby sat back with a grimace. Abby gave him a healthy glare.

"Toby, has Bonnie talked to you about anything especially sinister in the mail for you lately?" Everyone's hate mail was sorted by their assistants daily and handed it over to the secret service every Wednesday.

"No, I've asked her not to." No one was surprised. There wasn't much you could do about it and the venom that came from some people tended to be pretty distracting.

"Toby, you notice anyone unusual hanging out when you leave your apartment in the morning, go to temple, anything?"

"I don't pay much attention."

"Okay, what do you remember about this morning before the explosion?"

"I was at temple early. There wasn't anything that I noticed right away. The place was filling up with people. Then I heard a noise."

"Describe it."

"Like steam escaping, I think. Maybe like a radiator."

"Then what?"

"I got up and started to look for the origin of the sound. I was trying to get to the aisle. That's the last thing I remember before…"

"What about after?"

"I was on the ground against a wall. Someone was yelling at me. I was under some beams or something. There was smoke everywhere."

"Those beams saved your life. My agents were able to find the firefighter that pulled you out, a kid named Jeff Hernandez. The explosion must have thrown you against a wall. When he found you, there was a bench tented over you and a lot of debris on top of that. That bench saved you from further concussion."

"I wanted to stay and make sure that everyone was out."

"You were one of the last they found, Toby. Hernandez said that you were quite a handful. Kept trying to go back inside."

"Someone sat me in an ambulance with other people. I tried to get out, but it drove off."

"Thank God for small favors." Abby said patting his cheek before getting up. "Honey, I need to use your phone." She headed for the President's desk.

"Do you know if everyone got out okay?" Toby asked hesitantly. Ron looked at him for a minute before responding.

"CJ has those numbers."

"Well, these would have to be preliminary numbers. Let's wait until we have something solid." Leo jumped in.

"I need to know."

"Let's give you a chance to rest, Toby." Suggested the President.

"Stop protecting me!" Toby wrestled himself to a standing position before anyone could intervene. He stood in front of the President, his good arm holding onto the couch tightly. Abby looked up from the phone.

"Please." He said desperately to Jed Bartlett.

"CJ, give us the numbers." Jed Bartlett said tightly. CJ looked down at her list and then moved closer to the group from her spot near the door as if unsure that she could be heard from a distance of more than ten feet.

"57 people were taken to area hospitals by ambulance. Of that number, 23 were admitted, 6 of them in serious condition. CJ paused for a minute to allow this information to be absorbed. Toby's grip on the couch tightened. He thought about all of those people coming to temple to worship, just to be with their community. Jed Bartlett was shaking his head wearily when CJ continued.

"4 people are dead." She said quietly looking at Toby. He felt like there was a string in his head being pulled tighter and tighter. He heard the President from what seemed like a great distance asking for the names of the deceased so that he could call their families. Sam was next to him talking, but he couldn't understand what he was saying.

"The only name we have so far is a Mrs. Alessandra Wise. She was 78 years old." CJ bowed her head having finished her sad duty.

"Mrs. Wise," He thought, with her smiles and nods. Always taking time to inquire about his health, worrying about him when he didn't wear a heavy enough coat. She herself was always wearing long sleeves to cover the numbers that had been indelibly pressed into her skin by the Nazis. "You deserved to pass with so much more dignity than you were allowed." He thought to himself swaying slightly. Abby Bartlett was yelling something at him, and he turned to her hoping she would know what to do about the string pulling so tightly against his brain. Then the string popped. Problem solved.

"Toby!" CJ screamed as he slid to the floor. Sam was there trying to break his fall. Then everyone was there, Abby having to claw her way through to get to the fallen man.

Josh stood in front of the smoking synagogue. Even though, it was 3:30 in the morning, there were still people everywhere. Police had the area blocked off. It had taken Josh quite some time to convince officials to let him on the scene. Now he was standing there watching agents from Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms as they sifted through the rubble of what had once been a magnificent temple.

He had promised Leo that he would go home and get some good rest. Leo wanted them all back at the office in the morning, a Sunday morning, ready to work on the investigation. Josh had gone home knowing that rest was exactly what he needed in order to attack this in the morning. But when he closed his eyes, all he could see were faces. They were the faces of men, women, and children, all of them soot covered, all of them looking at him with terrified eyes.

He didn't even have to close his eyes to see his friend Toby and the pain that this tragedy was bringing him. Abby had personally gone with the ambulance that took Toby to the hospital. She had assured everyone that Toby had probably just fainted from the shock and trauma of his injuries. Still they stood there stunned as the gurney was wheeled out of the Oval Office. Josh wished that Abby would have allowed Sam or CJ go with her. But she insisted that Toby would need only rest and quiet right now. Everyone had been too shocked by his collapse to argue with her.

Josh needed to be at the synagogue. An important lesson his father had tried to teach was that vengeance was not Jewish. He had always understood that lesson and what it meant. But Josh was also a man raised to protect those who were innocent. This senseless attack on good people left him with a rage so profound as if to consume him. He came to be at the temple to make a promise to those who were killed, to those who were injured, and to those children who would forever after be afraid of the world. And he came to make this promise to his friend who would wake up tomorrow and wonder if there was something he could have done to prevent this. Josh promised them all that he would not stop until those responsible were made to answer for this atrocity. Josh found a place in the grass and sat. He would stay here tonight and watch over the temple for his friend and for his people.

"There are three of you now." Observed Leo as he entered his front office Monday morning.

The three young women turned from their work as he entered.

"Well, you know us rabbits." Said the young woman who had handed him the note on Saturday.

"I am so sorry. I had no idea that I had said anything like that out loud." Leo's face got a little red.

"It's okay, sir. The circumstances of the last few days have certainly been stressful. And in the face of that, you have been quite patient with our ignorance of your expectations. We figured that three of us would be better able to keep up with your needs." She offered him a smile.

"Have you been able to familiarize yourself with Margaret's computer? I know that Margaret's set-up is pretty Byzantine. Tech support won't come near it. She maintains a fairly hostile relationship with those folks."

"Yeah, we talked to her this morning. She told us what we needed to know and then she gave us assignments for the day."

"What?! You talked to her?' Leo exclaimed. "She couldn't use the phone yesterday and then the nurses wouldn't let me come and visit."

"Yeah." Said the young woman. He noticed she and others exchanging looks.

"What do you know? Come on now. I am tired of not knowing what's going on." Said Leo frowning.

"We don't really want to get into the middle of anything." Said the young woman uncomfortably. The look he gave her made her take a deep breath. "You know, Margaret went to Bethesda on Friday." He nodded. "And you know she tried to go home against advice. A cabdriver brought her back when she passed out on the way home. They had to put her in intensive care because she wasn't responding to fever reducers."

"Yeah, I finally got all of that information from you Saturday night."

"Okay, well they broke the fever early Sunday morning and she was moved to a regular room. We went to visit her yesterday. She should be able to go home tomorrow."

"So why am I not allowed to visit?"

"I think she feels bad, sir. She said that the two of you didn't part on good terms Friday. Then this tragedy happened with Mr. Ziegler." She hesitated a little, looking embarrassed.

"She felt like she added to your burden." Jumped in another young woman. "Instead of being here, making sure you had all of the support you needed, she was at Bethesda with a bug she should have attended to a week ago."

Leo looked stunned.

"It sounds like she's feeling sorry for herself. Said the third woman. "And I suppose she is a little. But it's more about letting you down, sir. She's sort of feeling like she is more trouble than she is worth to you."

"But she sure says a lot of great things about you." Said one of them as if this would help balance the load they were handing him.

"Would you tell her, please, that I want to talk to her. Tell her that… tell her to…just tell her to call me." Leo said humbly.

They nodded at him. He turned around at the door remembering his promise to be more sensitive.

"By the way, what are your names?"

"Flopsy."

"Mopsy."

"And I'm Cottontail." Said the first young woman unable to suppress a grin.

"Come on, guys." Said Leo smiling.

"Don't worry about it. You won't remember them anyway. We've been watching you mangle the names of other people for three days now. Besides, we're not going to be here that long. "Hey you" will do just fine."

Sam looked up every time someone new came into the Roosevelt Room. He had gotten here early for the briefing. Butterfield indicated that they would actually have something to report this time. He knew that it was not quite 48 hours since the blast, but he was still feeling quite impatient with this whole process. He watched Leo as he entered with his three assistants in tow. He looked a little embarrassed at the spectacle of an entourage, but then he was quite careful to make sure that his assistants all had good seats.

CJ entered with Josh. Sam noted the strain etched in both of their faces. He waved them over to where he was seated.

"Is he here yet?" He hissed at them.

"Who?" Josh said.

"Toby, the First Lady is bringing him to the briefing."

"Get out!" Josh exclaimed with surprise.

"Did you get to see him?" Asked CJ wearing an odd look.

"No, Abby won't let anyone near him. The only reason I know about this is that she called me early this morning to get some of his work."

Well, what did she?" Josh was getting impatient.

"Says he's rested. And that he can leave the hospital today."

"But she's letting him come straight to work?"

"No, he's coming to the briefing only. I guess Butterfield has some big news. He sent his people to go to get Toby about an hour ago." At that moment, Toby entered with Ron Butterfield and the First Couple bringing up the rear. Although he was still quite pale, Toby did look much better. He was wearing a sling on his right arm and his cuts had been dressed. Ron steered him to a seat across from them. He gave them a nod as greeting and then sat quietly. Once Jed and Abby Bartlett were seated, Butterfield began.

"I believe that our preliminary findings are going to answer some questions for us although there is no doubt that they will raise others." He looked at the president briefly, unsure where to start.

"This is a little unusual. None of us has been briefed on any of this stuff yet. Ron was ready with a report this morning, but I thought it would be best if we all heard it together. Maybe this will save some time. Keep us all on the same page." Reasoned Bartlett. Sam could tell by Toby's face that he had no idea what Ron was about to say. Ron began his report by looking at Toby.

"Do you remember that New York Times interview you did about two months ago, right after the gun bill passed?"

Toby nodded at him.

"You said and I quote, "The second amendment is arcane. The circumstances of 250 years ago are not relevant today. The passage of this bill is a first step in bringing the sensibility of the constitution into the 21^st century." You went onto to describe militias as a backlash against the growing diversity in this country, the issue of federal intrusion being merely a smokescreen covering up blatant racism. You also said that militias were an insignificant part of this country's future."

"I remember you telling me that this would come back to haunt me." Said Toby.

"You have always been a fairly controversial figure, Toby. And being Jewish and close to the president is just what these guys are looking for to make you the lead villain. Every time someone reports that you have the president's ear, your hate mail goes through the roof."

"As it has since the New York Times article."

"Exactly."

"So, you are telling me that this bomb happened because of me."

We got a call from an internet server two hours after the blast." Ron continued, ignoring for the moment, Toby's loaded statement. "We had been in touch with those folks as you know due to the proliferation of hate on the web. About half an hour after the explosion, a web site went up briefly. The authors of the site indicated that they were responsible for the bombing that killed Toby Ziegler. They put details into the narrative that correspond to our understanding of the type and position of the incendiary device. The rest of the narrative was some rhetoric about preserving white America. Before the site disappeared, it was able to be flag over 1,000 visitors.

"Have you found these…people?" The President said, the anger palpable in his voice.

"No, sir. They are not amateurs. The site was quite well produced and they were able to erase their tracks effectively."

"So, we just wait around to see if they put the site up again?"

"Actually, sir, they put up another one yesterday morning. It was up for an hour only. We were able to preserve the text, but once again they were able to lose us."

"What did this one say?" Josh had an intense look on his face.

"They acknowledge that they weren't able to kill Toby. They justify that for a while. They talk about their perception of Toby's influence on the president. And then they put out a call for Toby's assassination." Ron cleared his throat before saying, "They are offering $20,000 to the person or persons who succeed in that effort."

"People can't think that they are serious." Exploded Sam.

"Are you kidding, Sam? Half of that special audience is going to believe that there is a reward and the other half don't care. It's a dare, a chance to be a martyr to the cause." Josh replied angrily.

"How many hits this time?" The President asked quietly.

"Almost 2,000."

"Crap!" Leo slammed his hand down on the table in disgust. Toby was silent through this conversation. He sighed deeply at Leo's outburst and closed his eyes.

"What's our next step, Ron?" The President was trying to bring his anger into focus.

"We put Toby into protective custody and the investigation continues."

"What does protective custody mean?" Toby asked warily.

"Well, Toby, we would like to hide you out for a little while. Not for long, hopefully. We are bringing the computers guys from the CIA and we hope to have these assailants in the near future."

"What about the 2,000 other idiots and their friends?" Growled Leo.

"We're going to have to take this day by day, Leo. These things can change pretty quickly. If we put Toby out of circulation for a while, the focus will undoubtedly shift away from him."

"Sounds like there isn't much of a choice." The president said resignedly.

"No" Toby said firmly.

Toby…" Began Jed Bartlett.

"I said no, Mr. President. This is exactly what they want. A couple of guys with explosives and a web site can bring the government of the greatest country in the world to its knees. It's what they want." Toby was shaking his head firmly.

"We are not going to let you be target practice for a bunch of racist goons. There is no way and no how, Toby." Leo said firmly.

"Good, because I am not interested in dying just now." Toby retorted.

"I am not sure if we can have it both ways." Ron Butterfield said slowly.

"Why not?" Said Josh. "Let's tell people what is going on. Toby comes to work every day. He still gets to have the president's ear. We say "Hell no, we're not backing down" to the entire nation. At night, you guys whisk him off. I bet you dollars to donuts that you guys have a few pretty secure hideouts right in the DC neighborhood."

"With that plan, I could stay in my own apartment." Reasoned Toby.

"Whoa! Whoa! Hold on guys. There may be a couple reasons why I do security and you don't." Butterfield looked a tad overwhelmed by the impractical ideas coming his direction.

"Ron, we may not be on the right path exactly, but I sure like the idea of showing the nation that we are business as usual despite the threats. Of course, we would need a plan that would not put your people at any undue risk." Said Jed Bartlett urging Ron to use some creativity. Ron looked like he wished he had stayed in bed that morning.

"We might be able to do something, but I am going to need a few concessions. Number one, Toby, your apartment is not acceptable. There is too much window exposure and I don't want to have to deal with your neighbors. Second, you come to the West Wing every day only. If there is a meeting, they come to you. Everything outside of the West Wing is off limits. We are going to need to up the security for the wing. And finally, the world will know that you are leaving the White House every evening. We are going to have to vary the arrivals and departures every day. Under those circumstances, this thing may be doable." Ron looked at Toby and the president.

Both nodded their consent to the concessions.

"Alright then, I am going to need the day to set this thing up."

Toby looked hopefully at Abby Bartlett who had been quiet through the entire briefing. She responded to his look with a shake of her head.

"Sorry partner, I still own you. The Lincoln bedroom is waiting. I got a handful of pills with your name on them." Sam figured that Abby Bartlett would have made an excellent drill sergeant.

"Hi." CJ had quietly walked over to where Toby was sitting.

He looked at her as she sat down beside him.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing." She added and then felt awkward.

"I will be okay."

Yeah. You look okay." She summoned what courage she could find and continued. "You're not responsible for any of what…" She stopped and looked for another way at it. "It's not your fault. You couldn't know…" She was at a loss. "Please take it easy on yourself, okay."

"Okay." He said patiently. Abby was there. He looked at CJ once more and then got up and followed the First Lady out the door. CJ dropped her face into her hands and wished for the life of a duck.

"Josh, stop." Said Leo trying to catch his deputy. Josh slowed down so that he was walking alongside his boss.

"I got a thing for you to do. I want you to liaison with the CIA guys that Ron has coming in."

"The computer guys? Leo, I know next to nothing about computers. Wouldn't you rather have me sitting on the interagency taskforce as the President's representative? Like we talked about, remember."

"Yeah, I remember. But I am going to sit on that now. I heard a few attitudes last night when they met that I didn't like."

"I can handle them."

"Yeah, but you are not gonna because I want you with the computer guys." Leo assumed an end to the conversation and walked off. Josh looked after him as left and mumbled something about how he'd like to show Leo what real attitude looked like.

"I picked up these guys about an hour ago. We have them in the sub-basement setting up. They say they have everything, but I am going to give you a couple of guys just in case, they need more equipment." Ron Butterfield was briefing Josh as they headed into the White House basement. Josh offered only a grunt in response.

"Know anything about computers?"

"Yeah, I am an amazing computer genius. Yesterday, I actually accessed my e-mail without technical assistance." Josh grumbled. Ron allowed himself a tiny smirk, although not tiny enough.

"Well, I'm glad that I can be a source of entertainment for you, Butterfield."

"Sorry, Josh, I wasn't laughing at you. I was thinking about the meeting Leo had last night with all of the enforcement heads. It was really something."

What the hell happened? Before that meeting, I was working on this investigation. Now I am in the basement taking lunch orders for computer geeks." Exclaimed Josh.

"This is not about you. The events of last night have convinced Leo that some people need a little more quality time with him."

"Well, Butterfield, are you going to spill or what? I deserve to know why I have been sent to White House hell."

"You know, Lester Wills, the head of the CIA."

"One of the weasels left over from the previous administration. The President hasn't gotten around to replacing him yet."

"Well, he showed up, late, after dodging Leo's phone calls for the first 24 hours after the blast. He immediately launches into some dinner theatre about what a terrible thing this explosion was. "A blemish on the beautiful face of lady liberty" were his exact words."

"No way." Josh had stopped walking in order to fully engage in Butterfield's compelling story.

"Then he talks about his friend, Toby and what a great American he is."

"He and Toby hate each other. Toby called him Cold War Wills in front of the Russian ambassador last year."

"Yes, I remember that." Ron was smiling fully now.

"Oh and then he mentions that it shouldn't be a crime to be Jewish." Butterfield added, clearly enjoying himself.

"Well we should get the Attorney General right on it then." Josh was starting to have some fun himself.

"Anyway, he says that the CIA is all about supporting this investigation. Leo growls that he needed the computer guys yesterday. And then Lester gets all slippery about the important projects these guys are on and how he thinks we can have them some time next week."

"Oh, my God!" Josh burst out passionately. "Tell me Leo stabbed him in the ear with his good pen."

"Close. Leo went nuclear. Told him that he had ten hours to get his best guys over here or he would have him arrested for treason."

"Ooooh, that must rattled poor Lester." Laughed Josh.

"He tried to suggest that Leo didn't know who he was talking to, but Leo was ignoring him at this point. Right in front of old Lester, he starts asking Stewart Olson from Justice to explore the ins and outs of a treason charge. Olson starts nodding his head up and down and saying that it sure sounds like there might be possibilities. The whole thing ended with Lester capitulating and agreeing to get his guys over here."

"Yeah, but I still don't get why I am on geek patrol.

"Leo told Lester that the CIA and its stupidity had begun to affect his blood pressure. Said he would be happy to see the computer guys but that's it. No operatives. Said that if any CIA employees showed their faces at the White House, he wanted them shot. I told him that I was happy to oblige."

"Well, Ron, I have to admit that your thrilling tale has given me some energy for the task ahead."

"Okay, I am going to open the door now. But before I do, I want you to remember that these guys are really brilliant."

The sub-basement was cold, damp, and overwhelmed with fluorescent lighting. Josh blinked as he went in to greet his new charges. They were seated at a conference table looking at him. His eyes went wide and he blinked some more. He hoped that they would think it could all attributed to the lighting. "My God, they have sent us Wayne and Garth's poor relations." He thought looking over the scruffy, long-haired individuals seated before him.

"Dude!" One of them exclaimed. Josh tried not to wince outwardly.

"Are you our new keeper, man?" Advanced another wearing a Megadeth t-shirt.

"You got any good vending machines around here, Fred?" Completed the third.

"Think brilliant." Ron hissed as he headed back out the gates of hell.

Danny Kincannon watched CJ closely during the press briefing. He had tried to reach her over the last couple of days, but she had avoided most of his phone calls. When he was able to get through, she was distant, almost distracted. Danny wondered how much more trauma she could take. He knew how much she cared about these guys and he remembered how hard the shooting had been on her. She certainly didn't need to deal with a bombing a short six months later especially if the intended target was Toby. For some time now, Danny had resigned himself to the fact that it would be a long time before CJ Cregg got Toby Ziegler out of her system. He was now at a point where he hoped that there would come a day when she would stop trying.

"I wish she would finish." Growled Toby. He couldn't stay seated despite Sam's insistence that he do so. They were watching from CJ's office so there wasn't much room for him to rave.

"She's just doing her job." Josh was trying to soothe Toby.

"I know that! I just don't like how public she has to be right now." Toby threw Ron Butterfield a glance as if to remind him that the two of them had just spoken of this earlier. Ron looked back at him calmly. The trick with Toby was not to be sucked into his energy when he was like this.

"She's just about done." Sam had joined the other two in their soothing tones.

"They act as if she should have the investigation file in front of her reading off every last detail."

"It's what they do." Josh said unnecessarily. He had traded his melodic voice for one of impatience.

"How's she doing?" For the first time that week, Leo entered a room not looking like the Pied Piper of Hamlin.

"Where's your harem?" Josh teased.

"I swear to God, Josh, you call them that one more time…" Leo warned giving him the stink eye. Josh tried to keep his smirk under wraps.

"Does Masahi really think she would compromise the whole investigation in order to answer his idiot question!" Toby's face was red and he was trying to gesture with his bad arm.

"How long has he been like this?" Leo asked Sam.

"Since it started." Sam replied. "I have threatened to get Abby down here, but he just ignores me."

"He knows you'd never do it."

"I would." Sam said indignantly.

"Right, Sam." Leo said sarcastically. "I say we let him re-injure his shoulder. And then we will let Abby tie him to a hospital bed for a week. Then we can have some peace around here." Toby shot them both a look. Leo glared back and Toby went to find a chair.

"Okay, we only have time for two more questions." CJ said. She told them she was only allowed to share a small part of the investigation. However this didn't stop reporters from asking for a world of information. She wished she could exit to a quiet office instead of the group of colleagues now seated there with Toby no doubt putting on his Blanche Dubois routine complete with melodrama and arm waving.

"Yes, Marilyn, welcome. This is your first question at a press conference, isn't it?" The young woman from the Real American Magazine smiled back. Everyone had been anxious before she arrived, the Real American being an ultra-conservative rag. But in the month she had been there, she had been nothing but friendly and gracious.

"Thanks, CJ, for the lovely welcome." She said nicely. Danny shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There was something about Marilyn Hooper that had bothered him since the day she first came up to him. Her naivete didn't ring true for him.

"CJ, the readers of the Real American are devastated by the Temple Zion tragedy." She said sympathetically. CJ nodded at her.

"I would like to know if there is concern that this was a provoked attack." She asked in her same gracious tone.

"Excuse me. What sort of provocation could there have been?" CJ seemed bewildered.

"You are aware, of course, that Toby Ziegler made incendiary comments a couple months ago, comments that were quite insulting, threatening, in fact, to some Americans. There was the perception in some corners of this country that Toby Ziegler was declaring war on the heartland. Do you think that these attacks may have resulted in the temple tragedy?" Marilyn looked expectantly up at CJ. A hush fell over the room. Danny tried to channel some good sense in CJ's direction.

"Marilyn," She was surprised but calm. "Your question is both ridiculous and insulting."

"You have to admit, CJ," She persisted. "that Toby Ziegler has been instrumental on many different fronts in limiting the rights of all Americans."

"You're talking about gun control, right?" CJ's voice had an unfamiliar resonance.

"Uh, CJ, I have a question." Danny tried to intervene.

"Sorry, Danny, I got to finish up this one first." She didn't even break eye contact with Marilyn Hooper during this exchange.

"There are also his attempts to limit a parent's right to discipline his children as well as school prayer. He has been vocal on all of these fronts. Some Americans in the South and the Midwest think that he brings too much of an Eastern perspective to the White House. It is so tragic that his controversial views should be visited on the innocent lives of his fellow congregants."

"That is enough!" CJ was moving like a freight train. "I have never heard such vile propaganda in my life. You don't know the first thing about Toby Ziegler and the contribution he makes to this country. He is a man of integrity who fights for all Americans. Where do you get this garbage?"

"CJ, I was told that there was room for all perspectives in this White House." Marilyn said feigning innocence.

"To suggest that he was culpable in the temple bombing is just stupid." CJ was beginning to forget herself. "Toby Ziegler is probably the best man I will ever know."

"Oh my God! Get her out of there!" Toby was up and trying to get to the press room. Ron Butterfield was at the doorway in a flash. Leo looked up from a phone call he had taken.

"Outta my way." Toby said in a sinister voice.

"It is not a secured area, Toby. It's not going to happen." Ron looked at him steadily.

"Sam!" Toby yelled.

"Leave her alone. She's defending you for God's sake." Said an irritated Josh.

"Sam," Toby cried again, "Please tell me you understand what's happening out there?"

"I'll get her, Toby." Sam was out the door and running.

"That was a trap." Toby tried to explain with wild eyes. "The Far Right. They want her frazzled. They want her to be defensive. Her defense will be the sound bite across the whole country this evening. Only it won't sound like a defense by the time it gets on the air. It will be a ranting against the Right. "

"Sam's got her." Leo was off the phone and by his side, trying to calm him. On the screen, there was CJ finishing abruptly after a signal from a clearly visible Sam. Josh had understood Toby's concern by this point and he too watched the screen anxiously. Then came the yelling.

"Carol!" They heard a familiar female voice coming down the hall. "You get her on her broom and off the grounds in ten minutes! I swear to God that if I see her again…"

"And if she wants to speak with you?" Her assistant interrupted in an effort to slow down her angry boss who had not sought the privacy of an office for this conversation.

"You tell her that she and I just finished the last conversation we will ever have!" Sounded the hallway.

"She's coming." Said Sam unnecessarily as he arrived back at the office a few seconds ahead of his angry colleague.

"Could you believe that!" CJ came in flushed and upset.

"You okay, CJ?" Josh asked.

"That was unbelievable!" She replied, her hands shaking slightly.

"It was an ambush, CJ." Toby was looking at her intently.

"Don't you think I know that." CJ was pacing back and forth.

"Sit down, CJ. Let's figure this thing out." Leo said calmly. CJ deposited herself against a wall. Leo could see that she wasn't about to sit anywhere.

"CJ, you let her get to you…" Toby began.

"Don't start, Toby! For once, don't start." CJ was taking deep breaths. Toby got quiet and just looked at her.

"I know what happened. I saw it happening and I couldn't stop myself."

"And the whole world saw it. This puts you at such risk…" Toby persisted.

"Would you stop! Don't I get any points for defending you? Can't that mean something to you?"

"CJ," Toby said softly. "Protecting me is not what you should be doing. You can't win at it. You must see that. Your exchange has done two things. It has given the Radical Right ammunition against us. And it has propelled you into the spotlight."

"I know that. Do you think I am an idiot?"

"I do not."

"All right. Let's move to damage control. Josh, Sam, what do you think?" Leo was looking for focus.

"If we lay low, this is gone in a couple of days. For the rest of the week, we do shorter briefings, only go to questions from people we know and can predict." Suggested Sam.

"I say we talk to the shows, give them the tape, let them see the context for CJ's outburst." Interjected Josh.

"No, definitely not. They will want to debate us. The conversation will escalate. It will get too big. That tape will replay all day long for two weeks at least." Sam was shaking his head. CJ sighed at the thought of her fight being broadcast repeatedly over network and cable TV.

"I agree." Toby said.

"We should talk about security issues." Ron added firmly. "CJ, there will probably be a lot of people discussing the meaning of the passion you displayed in there."

"A colleague was being maligned publicly and unfairly. I was defending him. What is there to discuss?" Said CJ. Josh exchanged a meaningful look with Sam.

"Some people might interpret that energy differently. It's not such a good thing to be linked to Toby right now." Ron tried to sound smooth under CJ's defensive glare.

"He's right, CJ. That fight puts you at risk. You need protection." Toby added.

"No! No way! You are not going to Salman Rushdie me. It's not going to happen. Toby, you are the one they want to hurt." CJ regretted her comment the minute she saw the look in Toby's eyes.

"We should take precautions." Ron said firmly.

"Okay, let's talk about what is reasonable. Everyone knows that Toby is under your protection. If you do that with me too without knowing if it is warranted, this whole place will look like it's under siege. I don't think we're ready to put out the message that we are under attack, are we?" CJ looked around the room.

"What do you think, Ron?" Said Leo.

"We will watch for reaction." Said Ron carefully. "In the meantime, CJ, you go home and you go to work. That's all. We'll give you a panic button. You use it if you see anything suspicious."

"I'll do it." She said firmly looking at the men in the room. "Now, if you will excuse me, I better make sure that a certain reporter has been shoved out the door on her ass." With that, she turned and left the room. Leo gave Josh a quick sign. He immediately trotted after her. Nobody wanted to risk another exchange between CJ and her new archenemy.

"I don't like it." Toby growled menacingly.

"Yeah, well you tell me one likable thing about this entire week." Leo shot back before walking off to deal with the other screwed up situation in his life.

"Fun time at the monkey museum." Josh thought as he looked over his geniuses. When he had arrived Tuesday morning, they were sprawled on the leather couches in the corner of the old conference room. He had tried to roust them but they weren't having it. They told him they had been hunting all night. "The best prey come out at night, Fred." They reasoned with him. He let them sleep during the day and returned later in the afternoon after the press briefing fiasco to find them lounging among countless Hostess cupcake wrappers and pizza boxes.

Bob, Rupert, and Red Eye were their names. He continued to be Fred despite numerous attempts at correction. They weren't interested in going anywhere and seemed content to just set up camp in the back of the room. For a while he had suspected that Lester was having a little fun with them. Maybe he had sent a few guys from the Salvation Army. But there was something about them that suggested to Josh that they could coast through anything he could send their direction. Despite his menacing moniker, Red Eye looked to be the most familiar with the concept of hygiene and so he was the one to whom Josh directed most of his comments.

"How's it going, guys?" He asked warily.

"Well, Fred, the accommodations are stellar and the take-out is superlative. This whole experience thus far is a definite thumbs up." Returned Red Eye as he flicked Twinkie wrappers off his chest.

"How's work?" Josh clarified.

"Nothing solid, Fred. But we got ideas." Red Eye gave him an amused glance.

"Tonight's the night, Fred. I can feel it." Bob added, looking at Josh through a tangled mop of curly hair.

"Okay, but what have you accomplished? What are you doing?" Josh asked impatiently.

"We are tracking, Fred. We are retrieving code. We are looking for a trail to follow. We are in chat rooms looking for names that correspond with the transcripts we have made of the Toby sites." Red Eye looked at Josh defiantly, "So, Fred, besides hooking us up with the always quality Dominoes Pizza, what are you doing?"

"Protecting the interests of the President of the United States of America." Josh looked right back at him. Rupert gave him a nod as if to acknowledge that he might not be the complete imbecile they originally thought he was.

"And making sure that you guys come as advertised and aren't sitting down here playing solitaire all day." Added Josh ruining, in that moment, the beautiful connection that had been forming.

"Not the dreaded solitaire." Deadpanned Bob.

"Well, you know, Fred. That is a very legitimate concern." Red Eye said mockingly.

"You know, I helped developed the most sophisticated game software in the industry today. You heard of Lady Bond, Star Tech, maybe Jungle Fury?" Said Rupert rattling off some of the most popular titles on the software games market.

Josh didn't move a muscle.

"I tell you this, Fred, because all of that technology is nothing compared to the crafty simplicity of solitaire." Rupert was wading through the wrappers in search of his computer.

"Yeah, we're like addicts. And now that you know our secret, we might as well give in to the sickness." Bob piped in. He sidled over to where Rupert was.

"Solitaire looms large in our reality, Fred." Red Eye said as he joined them. Josh imagined that they were now about to play a round of the dreaded game for his benefit. He more than suspected that these three were a monumental waste of his time.

"Can I pick the deck? Let's get flowers."

"How does the design of this thing work?"

"Let's rig it so that the queens annihilate kings of the same suit."

"Yeah, and let's add some traps. All diamonds explode if they come in contact with odd numbered spades."

"Where's Fred going?" Bob asked innocently.

"Margaret? How are you? Are you resting comfortably at home?…I am not angry, you know….Well you couldn't have known….They are doing fine. Although, it is a little unwieldy to have three women following me all day long…I would, but they seem to do better if they travel as a pack…Yes, I'll tell them. Margaret, when you are coming back?….Where do you get that idea? I am not doing fine….Josh calls them a harem and all three of them together don't get as much done as you do all by yourself…Yes, I have punished Josh, but you didn't answer my question?…I don't want another assistant, Margaret. You are the best…Well, sure, you annoy me…Everybody annoys me, Margaret! Just yesterday, I yelled at the President…I know I shouldn't…Well, there is no need for an apology, he understood…All right, I will tell him that I should not have let my frustrations out on him, okay…Is next week too soon?…Do you need anything, some soup, maybe?…Do you need magazines?…Okay, okay. But you'll come back Monday if you are feeling better…Take care, Margaret…Hey, Margaret… I miss you. Good-bye."

""A gilded cage" would be a good way to describe this place." Thought Toby as he looked around his cavernous suite. There were several bedrooms and baths. The living room was incredible. He had anticipated a cheap hotel room somewhere, but the Secret Service had other plans. Initially, he had objected, worried about the cost to taxpayers. But Butterfield had assured him that this location was perfect. It was the penthouse floor of an area hotel and could be easily defended. Ron told him that the cost to taxpayers would be greatly increased if they had a less secure location and lives were lost as a result. Toby vowed to ask no more security questions after that. He would have to put up with his luxurious digs.

Despite the swank surroundings, Toby didn't look forward to his evenings here. It was only his second night there, but he already felt trapped and lonely. There was a phone he could use, but he couldn't get over that fact that it was monitored for bugs by the agents stationed outside his door. He just did his work and waited for the time to pass. Part of his work was a nightly look at the news shows. Some people might see it as relaxing, but Toby saw it as a chore. He hated the news shows especially if they did analysis. Invariably, he was watching people who billed themselves as Washington insiders who postured and competed for sound bites. He generally did other work in front of the tube and gave it his attention only if someone was spectacularly stupid with their analysis.

This evening he was a little more diligent. He wanted to know what they would have to say about today's press briefing. So far, they had been pretty objective. CNN had fairly included Hooper's questions and background with their report. Crossfire had focused most of their time on the investigation. They didn't even dignify the idea that Toby was responsible for deaths. He worried more when he moved to some of the cable shows. They tended to be a little more off the wall. Most of the panel was unknown to him. Then he winced when he saw Senator Albert Fallschurch on Geraldo. Most senators wouldn't appear on such a show, but Fallschurch was a different matter. He made Jesse Helms look like a reasonable man. He had been around forever. Most people took him with a grain of salt and he was generally not invited to appear on the serious news programs. He squinted at the TV with one eye as he waited for Fallschurch to say something outrageous. But Toby was in for a surprise. There was a young man on the panel who was identified as Robert Edwards from a group called Promised Americans. He was waving a sheaf of papers in his hand claiming them as evidence. Geraldo was looking a little shell-shocked and Fallschurch was scowling at the young man who had stolen his spotlight.

"Ziegler has been an enemy of the state for years," He proclaimed with satisfaction. "Here are affidavits of people who remember his days as a communist."

"Of course, Ziegler was a communist. The whole West Wing is littered with ne'er do wells. I have had documents proving this for years." Fallschurch had adopted an irritated tone with the young man as he tried to reclaim the attention from him. Toby shook his head a little. Fallschurch wasn't even lying well. He hadn't even heard of most of the staff until last year. Toby tried to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him. They weren't saying anything he hadn't heard for the last two years.

"And we now can go public with evidence we have had for some time that Ziegler is having an affair with CJ Cregg. He controls her. We have evidence that he used her to break up his marriage to Congressman Andrea Wyatt." Edwards was waving different papers now. Toby jerked his head up at the TV.

"Today, she let her feelings show." Edwards continued cuing a tape that showed only CJ, red-faced and yelling that Toby was the best man she will ever know. Fallschurch was wide-eyed as he pondered the direction that TV politics had taken. Geraldo attempted to bring the show back to a more acceptable state of sensationalism.

"What do their private lives have to do with anything?" Geraldo suggested reasonably.

"Ziegler is a smart man." Toby noticed that Edwards never used his first name. "CJ Cregg is a pawn in his game. He controls her in bed. He controls her in front of the cameras. You saw that today. We have another clip that shows one of his lackeys, Sam Seaborn, effectively pulling her off the stage when she allowed an American to speak…."

Toby shut off the TV. He felt sick to his stomach. It was maddening to have CJ used as a victim in the game against him. He wondered if she had seen this. He wondered if the people who wanted him dead had seen this. He grabbed for the phone.

CJ sat there with the remote in her hand, her mouth wide-open. This had just played on national TV. She wondered if Toby had seen it and reached for the phone to call him. Then she remembered that she couldn't. She didn't have the number to his safe house. She had been vilified on TV before for her work as a press secretary. But this was different. She felt violated. He had spoken of her private life. He had called her a pawn. He had referred to her as if she was a whore. In front of everyone, he had done this thing. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. She needed space. She got up and her stomach lurched. She ran for the bathroom.

Toby called her three times on her home phone before giving up. He had tried her cell and her pager. No response anywhere. He tried to stay calm. His first call had been to Butterfield telling him of the TV spectacle. He figured this would convince him of the increased risk. He was right. Butterfield arranged for agents to go to her house. Now he prayed that the agents got there in time. He hoped that there was a simple explanation for her ringing phones. A wave of frustration and fear surged through him. He grabbed the phone and threw it at the TV.

Josh worked his way into the sub-basement. He was livid. It was 2 a.m. and these jokers were going to play a little game with him. Having the Secret Service wake him out of his bed would be just their speed. It was his plan to kick them out of the White House and onto the street. Then Leo could make arrangements to have Lester Wills executed. He opened the door prepared to begin his tirade. The lights were down so low that he could barely make them out at the conference table. They were all hunched in front of one of the computer screens, the blue light from the screen illuminating them. Rupert saw him enter and ran over.

"We found it, Man. The site is active and we are logged on." He was urgently pulling Josh over to the table.

"You are not going to believe this, Fred." Said Red Eye looking up.

Josh was trying to breathe in short bursts. His rage was threatening to get the better of him and he needed his head for the hours to come. The Secret Service had let him into the Oval Office to wait for the president and everyone else he had woken at four in the morning.

He had sat with his guys for an hour in front of the computer reading the information on the website before it had disappeared. Red Eye had determined that the site was coming from several false addresses and so there was no place to send enforcement at the moment. That didn't stop them from gathering information and tracking addresses. He had called Butterfield to inform him of the site. That's when he heard that CJ was missing. That in conjunction with what he was reading on the site was horrifying. He got on the phone and woke everyone.

As he paced, they stumbled in one by one. Sam came in a t-shirt and jeans. Leo and the President came in together, Leo having collected him from the residence. Toby and Ron came in through the side door almost simultaneously. Toby still wore yesterday's suit.

"Have you found her?' Josh pounced on Ron and Toby.

"No." He said darkly.

"What do you know, Ron?" The President asked grimly.

"Toby tried to reach her at 11 p.m. and she was not answering her phone. I had already dispatched agents due to the news coverage focused on her. The agents did not find her at home. They did find her car parked in its usual space. There was no sign of forced entry to the home. We have no information of any foul play." He said looking at the President.

"Nevertheless, she should be at home." The President replied.

"Yes, sir. It was agreed upon that she would not leave her home."

"Does anyone in this room know where she would go at 11 p.m. at night without her car?" The President asked the assembled. Everyone shook their heads in response.

"So she could be out jogging or a friend could have picked her up." The President reasoned.

"It's four in the morning, sir. She's not out jogging." Sam said anxiously.

"You have news about a new web site." The President had turned his attention to Josh.

"It's the same site, actually. It has been updated and it was up for two hours this morning."

"Same old garbage." Leo growled.

"And some new stuff. The price on Toby's head continues. There is propaganda related to that. Then there is a video clip of the press briefing. A chat room was opened briefly, maybe fifteen minutes, and they discussed Toby and the video clip."

"Is there something you would like not to tell us?" Queried The President.

"They said some pretty rough things about CJ." Josh said slowly.

"What kinds of things?" Toby's eyes looked feverish.

"Mostly things they wouldn't follow through with." Josh tried to minimize the impact. "They didn't talk about killing her. It was bravado, really."

"Tell us, Josh." Leo said sternly.

"They talked about what they would do if they had a woman who was being controlled by someone else. They talked about kidnap and assault. I am telling you guys, it was mostly a bunch of dick waving." His information was greeted with silence. The energy in the room was at a point of combustion. Everyone in that room felt as close to CJ as if she was a member of their own family. Indeed, all of them in that room were a family. The idea that strange men were discussing her in this way choked them with outrage.

"Ron, your people are out looking for CJ?" The President was controlling his voice. "You have notified everyone you can for this?"

"Yes, sir. Although, we have not put out an APB. That would alert the press. Though at this point, I am not so worried about the press and we would issue one, but we have no description of anything for them to find, except a six foot tall woman. It really won't be much help."

During all of this, the men in the room had withdrawn into themselves looking for ways to control their rage. Sam was pacing back and forth. Toby surprised him. He seemed so calm. And for once, he wasn't even fidgeting. He stood silently at the French doors and looked out onto the courtyard.

"What have we not thought of, Ron?" The President was famous for his ability to focus at times like these.

"We should make a list of friends, anyone she talks to on a regular basis. She may have needed someone for support. I am assuming that she may have seen the theatrics on TV last night. We will wake everyone up. Oh and her assistant, Carol, she might know something."

"Sam," Leo began. "Get Carol in here. Toby, you and Josh make a list of everyone she knows. Get your people in here. They can help us with phone calls."

Everyone went into action, grateful for the chance to direct their considerable energies.

CJ hoped that it was still too early for her to run into anyone as she moved quietly through the dark early morning hallways of the West Wing. She was still wearing last night's running gear. She looked down at her watch. It was 6:15 a.m. She was sure that she had time. On Wednesdays, Leo didn't start staff meeting until 9 a.m. So it was sort of a sleep-in day for everyone. She would run in and grab her pager. If there were no messages, she could go home for a quick shower and a change. No one would have to know that she forgot her pager again.

As she passed the communications area, she saw Bonnie and Ginger already at their desks talking on phones. She shook her head as she snuck past. "Toby really works them too hard." She thought. She turned the corner to her own office and ran right into Donna. Donna yelped and blinked at her. Then she pulled her into a big bear hug.

"Oh, my God, CJ. We were so worried." CJ had trouble untangling herself from the excited Donna.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"You're okay. That's all that matters now." Donna said, head nodding supportively.

"Why wouldn't I be okay? Have something happened? Why is everyone at work this early? Donna, what's going on?"

"CJ, they have been looking for you all night long. Right now, Carol is at your house helping the agents determine if all of your things are intact. They are looking for clues to your disappearance." Donna said pulling CJ into her office and closing the door. Donna took a few minutes to fill her in on the events of the last seven hours. CJ took a few minutes to collect herself after Donna's narrative. While she was upset about the web site they had found, she was even more horrified that her friends and colleagues had been up all night frantic for her safety. She took a couple of deep breaths and headed for the Oval Office.

She was intercepted before she even got through the door. First Sam was pulling her in. Then Josh hugged her so tightly, she started to choke. Leo was there trying to pry her enthusiastic colleagues off her. The President stepped in and held her briefly. Her eyes searched the room and found Toby. He was still standing away from everyone clutching a curtain from one of the French doors in his good hand. For a moment, he looked unsteady. Then he moved toward her awkwardly. He stood before her, careful to not get too close. He was afraid that with one wrong step, he would betray everything that he had held privately for so long. At last, he reached his hand up to her face and rested it on her cheek. Looking into his eyes, her hand joined his.

"CJ," Donna was at the door. "Danny is wondering if he should wait for you or if he should go." Toby dropped his hand back to his side. The moment was shattered. CJ closed her eyes briefly and sighed.

"Please tell him that I am going to have to stay. Thank him for waiting."

"CJ, where were you all night?" The President had adopted a stern, "you are about to be grounded" tone with her.

"I am so sorry. This is all my fault." She was starting to feel overwhelmed.

"CJ, come here and sit down. We just want to know what happened." Leo was gently leading her to a couch.

"I saw such garbage on the TV last night. I got upset. This man was speaking about me as if… well, it was bad. I needed to do something. I couldn't reach Toby." She looked at him briefly before continuing. "I was going to explode. So I went running."

"For seven hours?" Josh looked skeptical.

"After an hour, I realized that I had run too far. I called Danny. He lives nearby. He came and picked me up. I wasn't ready to go home. We sat in Jefferson square and we talked." She imagined their thoughts and hurried to explain. "We're friends, nothing more. I know that having this friendship is risky considering the roles we play in the press room every day. I don't know. I suppose I should have called one of you. When I realized that my pager was at the office, and I thought about the craziness of this week. I asked Danny to bring me to the White House right away so I wouldn't out of contact with you."

"CJ, where was your cell phone?" Sam asked.

"Marilyn Hooper called me yesterday after the briefing. She wanted to gloat or something." CJ paused as if embarrassed. "I guess my cell phone sort had an accident with the wall."

"And your panic button?" Sam continued.

"In my desk." She softly admitted.

There was silence for a minute. The President surveyed his people. He had been through so much with them. The campaign had brought them together. The White House had solidified their connection to one another. And the last six months had made them a family. He knew what he had to do.

"CJ, you are going into protective custody." He said firmly.

"Sir, I realize that I screwed up. I wasn't thinking…."

"We're not discussing this, CJ. This is not a decision I am asking you to ponder. I am making it for you. We have tempted fate one too many times. I can't pace this office one more night wondering if you or Toby or someone else in this room has been killed or maimed or whatever. I won't do it. Your life is not just your concern. It is the concern of everyone in this room."

"I am really sorry." CJ said with tears building in her eyes. Jed Bartlett put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him.

Toby took every opportunity to glare at Sam as they walked down the hall together. Sam was pretending not to notice. He was pretty pleased with himself. He considered his idea a thing of beauty. Others considered it that as well. The fact that Toby was not yet able to see its simple elegance didn't detract from his pride.

"Did someone ask you to open your big mouth?" Shot an irritated Toby.

"No, but that's me. I always take initiative." Sam answered cheerfully. "It's one of the best things about me."

"This is a bad idea. It will bring nothing but trouble."

"You could have fought against it harder."

"Shut up."

"It has everything, Toby. It's easier for the Secret Service. It costs the taxpayers less money. It is better use of all that space you keep telling me about. You can prepare briefings with CJ all evening long if you want. And the President really liked it." Sam smiled at him and then added. "I think that Ron Butterfield has a new level of respect for me."

"Sharing a safehouse with CJ is not such a smart thing for me to do." Toby mumbled.

"It will be good for you."

"Do you know what I want to do to you right now?"

"Don't tell me. Let me guess. You want to gut me like a fish and hang my entrails on your office door."

"Where'd you get that? I've never said anything that graphic to you before." Toby made a disgusted face at Sam.

"Don't you remember the time that I accidentally gave the President the Republican Women's speech to read at the National Organization of Women luncheon?"

"Oh, my God. I had blocked that out because of its traumatic nature."

"Both speeches were for women. It's not like the sky fell or anything. Only half the room walked out. And the women who stormed the podium were easily subdued. Toby, where you going? Toby, I promise you, we are going to laugh about this one day. Hey, wait up."

"Exactly, why am I coming with you again?" Donna was walking fast to keep with her boss as he strode through the hallways of the White House netherworld.

"Donna, I've explained this to you six times already. The FBI doesn't care about my guys. They say they got their own guys working on-line. They say my guys are rogues and criminals and they don't want anything to do with them. They want me to give them back to Lester."

"So, let's do that."

"My guys found the web site before their guys. My guys didn't get kicked out of the chat room either. Plus the feebs are tying this thing to some other related thing where they got deep cover and they're going to "slowly infiltrate their organization." Josh said mimicking the FBI director's words.

"Well they probably don't want you interfering."

"I'm not interfering. My guys and I are going to make sure that information isn't overlooked and so forth. Besides Leo and Butterfield know what I'm up to." He added a "sorta," under his breath.

"But I am here for what reason?" Donna persisted.

"Because you are my assistant and I have determined that you will assist me in this endeavor."

"Okay, now I'm clear." Donna said rolling her eyes.

They entered the sub-basement and found Josh's guys laying on the conference table blowing gum at the ceiling. Somehow, they had managed to paint a crude bulls-eye up there. Red Eye spotted them amid razzing Bob who had just missed the ceiling completely.

"Hey Fred." He called. Donna looked at Josh. All three were pulling themselves upright onto the table.

"Hey, who's the hot momma?" Rupert exclaimed getting a good look at Donna.

"What a nice little twinkie you brought there, Fred." Red Eye observed.

"These guys not get out much?" Donna looked at Josh.

"She's just like Pamela Lee except with pearls and real boobs." Bob was staring rudely.

"Hey!" Josh thundered. "Show a little respect. I swear to God. Someone should put you animals in a cage and just throw away the key."

"They already did throw away the key. Why do you think we work for the CIA?" Red Eye retorted.

"This is my assistant, Donnatella Moss. She is here to help us out, unless, of course, she is harassed or objectified in any way. Do you understand?"

"Uh, sorry Miss Moss." Rupert ventured.

"Call me Donna, guys." Josh gave her an admiring look. She wasn't even the least intimidated by these Neanderthals.

"Just for you to know, she's way too classy for the likes of any of you." Josh was marking his territory.

"Then why's she hanging out with a specimen like yourself?" Bob challenged.

"Donna says I'm a project." Josh declared.

"Well, I want to be a project too." Bob pouted.

"Believe me guys, Fred is more than enough of a project for any one person." Donna explained.

Toby winced again as more pain shot through his shoulder. He tried to write carefully with his right hand, but he was tired and his shoulder was aching with a pounding intensity. In addition to that, Toby was having no luck writing the President's speech for the Governor's conference. He had been writing the same paragraph for the last hour and it still sounded lousy. He finally threw down his pen and legal pad in disgust. It was gearing up to be another miserable night at Chez Safehouse. "What a perfect ending to a perfect day." He murmured, staring at the TV screen he had shattered last night with the phone. The agents had wanted to have it replaced, but he assured them that it would be sometime before he would want to turn on a television set again. Besides, as punishment for the safehouse idea, he had given Sam the responsibility of watching all the political shows.

He glanced over to the door farthest from his bedroom. CJ was in there. She had claimed it as hers shortly after arriving. She had been silent all the way over from the White House. She still felt bad about the crisis of the night previous and had apologized repeatedly to people throughout the day. Even the palatial accommodations hadn't sparked conversation from her.She had just dragged her things into her room, muttered good night, and shut herself in.

Toby knew he should probably do the same. He hadn't had any sleep last night and he knew that Abby Bartlett stalked him daily with her blood pressure cuff. But it had been a hard day, and he was feeling far too morose to do anything as refreshing as go to sleep.

Today had been the funeral for the four people killed in the explosion. All of them had a service together at Mount Sinai, another synagogue in the DC area. It had been a huge gathering. News reports estimated 20,000 people in and around the temple. Due to his situation, Toby hadn't been able to attend. He still felt that he should have been there. The only thing that calmed him was the fact that everyone was safer with him absent.

He had called all of the families. Every one of them had been kind to him despite their own pain and possible questions. He marveled at the capacity of their spirit to be so gracious with him under such circumstances. It turned out that Alexandra Wise had only one close living relative, a grandson named Russell Strong. He had been the hardest family member to reach. From the obituary, Toby learned that Russell did street outreach with homeless youth. He was finally able to find him through an agency for runaways. Russell had been quiet through most of the call. Then he thanked Toby and hung up. Toby kept replaying the phone call in his head. He wondered what the young man was not saying out loud to him. He pondered this last thought as he laid his head back on the living room sofa and closed his eyes.

The words on the downloaded material were beginning to blur again. Reading all of this hate had left her with a dull, persistent headache. Donna looked down at her watch and realized that she had been at this for 8 hours straight. She looked over at Josh and he was still fiercely concentrating on his sheaf of material. He didn't even act tired. It amazed her sometimes that he could focus like this. She imagined that most people were pretty willing to write him off as nothing more than a bulldog for the President. He was always so quick to jump into whatever fight was at the ready. However, the truth about Josh was a great deal more complex than that. He was impulsive to be sure. But he was also fierce and persistent. She knew that he would doggedly pursue this injustice to a satisfactory conclusion no matter how long or how much work it took. She smiled a little to herself and thought about what a good man he was.

She sighed and prepared to bury herself once again in the transcripts of chat room conversation that the guys had downloaded. They had followed a few of the screen names from the Toby chat room to Hate chat rooms around the web. They hoped that one or all of the perpetrators were spending time on-line listening in to the commentary on their exploits. They would not be so obvious as to actually admit culpability, but they might reveal something in other comments. Eight hours into it, Donna was still shuddering when she read some of the cruel and ignorant commentary that came off these sites. She thought she would read at least some opposition to the viciousness of some of the comments, but there was nothing other than fawning praise for the temple murderers. Her faith in humanity had taken a step backward since she had begun reading on this day. Her attempt to return to the transcript was interrupted by shouts from the guys who were clustered around computers at the other end of the conference table.

"Fred, the FBI is un-fucking-believable." Red Eye shouted. Bob slapped him upside the back of the head as a reminder that there was a lady in the room. Bob believed that Donna's presence was tenuous at best, and he was willing to risk nothing in his fervent hope that she stay.

"What do you got?" Josh said looking up.

"We found the FBI deep cover." Rupert reported with satisfaction.

"How could you have done that?" Donna was puzzled.

"We have been tracking the most virulent of the screen names all day long. There are two, Rriot921 and Hadenough, that we had some trouble following." Said Red Eye.

"But not so much trouble that we couldn't do it." Bob said defiantly.

"These guys are feds." Red Eye said.

"How do you know?" Said Josh.

"Because they are using government computers. As we speak, they are probably sitting in a basement over at Quantico." Said Rupert.

"No way, guys. The feds are not that dumb. There's no way that they would be that clumsy." Josh was unwilling to accept this. The three hackers gave each other a look.

"Fred, trust us on this. We have first hand experience both being tracked by and tracking for your illustrious government." Said Red Eye.

"The trouble with the feds is not that they are dumb. It's that they assume that everyone else is. You should see the stupid things we are asked to do and they think no one will figure it out. Read some of this chat room stuff they participated in. It's like they assume that you can't hate unless your IQ is under 90 points. Who the hell do they think that they are going to attract with phrases like, "I would do anything to protect my mother country. I am a foot soldier waiting for orders." Rupert was giving Josh a pointed look. Josh shook his head in disgust.

"You know, there is a lot of that on these sites. The really ignorant stuff, I mean." Donna said. Everyone looked at her. It was clear she was thinking something. They waited for her to finish her thought.

"If they are watching and reading, I wonder how they sift through all of the ignorance. I mean, we know that they are probably really smart guys. The FBI says that the bomb was pretty sophisticated. And they were able to convince the janitor that they were there on Rabbi Glassman's orders to evaluate the wood for refinishing." Everyone continued to stare at her. Donna knew she would lose them soon. She tried to come to the point.

"It just seems like if they only want to hear praise, they have had several days of the same insipid comments. And they haven't bitten on any of them. What if they heard something new? Sort of like, you know, how David Duke was new." She looked around and could tell that they were intrigued but confused. "Remember when David Duke remade himself?"

"Yeah, I remember when he ran for the senate. He had a whole new face and everything." Bob was trying to help the lovely Donna.

"He looked like a cross between Bo Derek and George Hamilton. It was weird to see him like that after all his years as a pasty-faced KKK leader." Offered Rupert.

Okay, my point is this. He reinvented himself. He dropped the obvious rhetoric. He disconnected himself from everything that was perceived as ignorant. He even pretended he didn't know anybody in the KKK. Denied pictures of himself in robes and everything."

"Where are you going with this, Donna?" Josh wondered.

"Maybe our bad guys have a little David Duke in them."

"They are reinventing themselves?"

"No, more like they are too good for most of what defines white supremacy. They are above that. They don't need to reach out to the rednecks. They don't need them. Just like David Duke pretended he didn't need them. Maybe they are a little arrogant. Waiting for something worth responding to?"

"Okay, I get it. These guys haven't been challenged in any meaningful way."

"So how do we challenge them?" Asked Red Eye.

"Well, you know, arrogant guys can never seem to resist other arrogant people. They get all competitive. Can't disengage." Donna snuck a quick look at her oblivious boss. The others took her cue and rested their eyes on Josh as well.

"Wait a minute, would you all be implying that I am arrogant." Josh gave them offended.

"No, gumdrop, not really." Donna was at her most saccharine. "But your ego can be awfully healthy at times. And that is probably the best we can do at the moment."

"Fred, it is our collective opinion that you fit the bill for this assignment." Red Eye announced.

"Well, thanks everybody." Josh muttered darkly.

"Now, don't tell me that you are not itching for a crack at these idiots, Mr. Fullbright Scholar. I am 100% sure that if anyone could shake these guys out of the trees, it would you." Donna was applying deep verbal massage.

"I have never been in a chat room." Josh's capitulation was almost complete.

"We got you covered there, Fred. You do the talking, we do anything technical." Bob assured him.

"Alright, let's get to work. We're going to need reference material. Can you get download Mein Kampf and whatever writings there are by George Lincoln Rockwell? Great. Oh, and the Turner Diaries, I need a copy of that. Donna, you are going to have to be my resource person." He motioned for her to sit next to him at the monitor. "Okay, Donnatella," He whispered to her as she sat down. "let's see exactly what sort of monster you have created." He winked at her and gave her a playful push.

"That's all I have to say." Said the young man in the video recording.

Toby rewound it again. This would be his fourth time watching it since the Secret Service brought it over. Luckily, they were able to find another TV. Actually in this suite he now called Ode to Over-indulgence, they were able to find five TVs. Toby needed to listen to it one more time. Something about it resonated with him, but he was having trouble defining it. This time as he pressed play, he would close his eyes, and concentrate on the words.

"Mr. Strong," Began a female news anchor, "We are so glad you could join us today in the wake of this terrible tragedy. You have been difficult to reach for comment and when found you have chosen to not speak much on this tragedy leaving some to conclude that you have some feelings about how this investigation is being handled."

"You certainly have taken some leaps in logic there." The young man answered her.

"You have refused to say whether you have spoken to Toby Ziegler and if so, what he said to you." The anchor persisted.

"This is all covered under the public's right to know?" He seemed to enjoy her frustration.

"Do you have any comment about the explosion, the investigation, or any contact you have had with Toby Ziegler?"

"The explosion was wrong. I hope that the investigation is successful, and I have spoken to Toby Ziegler. Once."

"Have you been frustrated with reports that he has had hate mail for some time. Yet he continued to go out into public, endangering the lives of others?"

"No, but I am frustrated that this line of questioning continues from reporters." The woman let a sigh escape at this response. This was not going well.

"Perhaps, you could enlighten us a little about your perspective." She was taking a stab in the dark. Russell gave her a long look.

"My grandmother talked about Toby Ziegler. Said she always sat near him. She worried about him. He always appeared to be a man with a lot on his mind. She followed him in the press. Said that he is a man who fights hard and has integrity. This is, was, important to my grandmother. She said that the most underused natural resource that this country has is true courage. He took on a controversial bill at great risk to himself and for the good of this country. I work on the streets. I understand the power of guns more than any suit and tie Republican. I understand the power of what he was fighting for." She tried to interject but he continued. "He did all of this to change this country for the better and now he is asked to apologize and feel responsible for people who were killed by the hands of others. When he called me the other day, he apologized for how his fight took my grandmother's life. I was angry at him about that. Angry that the courage of his convictions was being sucked out of him. Angry that the meaning of the fight itself was fading." She stared at him until he finally muttered.

"That's all I have to say." Toby clicked "stop" and sat pondering the young man's words.

"Would he link my name with courage if he could see me now?" Toby wondered. Russell reminded so much of himself twenty years ago, so fierce and clear. Now, as happened to so many, he had become a man of compromise. His integrity no longer had the sharp edges he remembered so well. "Russell is right," he thought, "I have spent this entire week wishing that I had never fought for gun control. Wishing that I had given in to the first compromise, the one that everyone had been prepared to accept." Toby sighed. "There are a lot of things I have given up on."

"Toby." Came a voice. Toby was startled. CJ was standing only a few feet away. He wondered how long she had been there. He wondered how much was showing on his face.

"I keep hearing you play that tape over and over. I wanted to see how you were doing." Standing before him was a shining example of his selective integrity. He looked at her trying to reason through the crazy thoughts running through his head.

"Are you okay?"

"Is there ever a good reason to abandon courage?" He asked her cryptically.

"Excuse me." CJ was confused.

"Do you ever get tired of being afraid? Isn't it more work to be afraid than to be brave?" CJ could see that he was sincerely considering these questions.

"I don't know what to say."

"Is it that you don't know or is it that there is too much risk involved in saying what you mean, what you feel?"

"Toby."

"I realize that I sound strange, CJ. It's just that I am tired of being held hostage and I am not referring to the Secret Service. I am referring to fear. It has eaten away at me. It chipped at anything you and I could have had together. And now it threatens to destroy who I am. It is turning me into a cautious person, careful not to provoke anything. It is turning me into a person who wants to risk nothing." He finished and watched her stand stock still staring at him.

"Are you saying something about you and me?"

"Why does it matter? Who cares what I am saying. What does it mean for you? Don't you get tired of walking within such well defined boundaries of what to do or to say?"

"Toby, it's been such a hard week."

"I know. I suppose because it has been such a hard week, the only thing I have left is what I really mean."

"Well let's get some rest. And we can talk about it in the morning." CJ suddenly felt like she was working without a net. She turned and walked to her bedroom.

CJ, no matter what anyone says, the fact remains that people died this week because I sat near them. That's what happened." Toby looked at her with sorrowful eyes. "I don't think that I killed them. But that connection will always be there and it will always hurt. That's what I really mean." She nodded her head at him wondering what was coming next. "What I also really mean is that I love you, CJ. Even if nothing ever happens between us, you should know that I love you deeply." CJ felt like the air was being sucked out of her body. Toby looked straight at her as he said it.

"Josh says love isn't enough for the two of us." She said softly.

"He's probably right, CJ. Fear is a powerful thing." He replied gently. "Why don't you go to bed, CJ. Get some sleep. Maybe we'll talk again in the morning." After a minute of standing in silence, CJ turned and left him sitting there in the living room. She couldn't undress. She couldn't lie down. Feeling shaky, she walked back and forth, thinking about what he said. Which was harder, fear or courage? Fear or courage?

Toby actually felt better now. He understood now what was holding him back, keeping him in one place. He would fight his fear as hard as he would against anything that was unjust and wrong.

"I don't want to be afraid anymore." Said a soft voice. He looked up and wanted to chuckle. She had such an amazing ability to move quietly into a room.

"Leo was right, CJ. You really should wear a bell." He said smiling.

"We never really fought for one another, did we? Maybe it felt wrong to me, to us, that love should be a challenge. But Toby, I don't want to be ruled by fear. I want to fight for us."

"I need you, CJ. I don't want to go through this without you."

CJ felt herself filling with a sense of calm and contentment. For a minute, she just looked at this complex and lovely man. Then she approached him and held out her hand. He reached out to her and allowed her to pull him upright. Silently, she led the tired man into her bedroom.

Toby lay on the bed with his eyes open. A beautiful woman held him from behind nestling her head into his neck. Over and over, he replayed this night. CJ seemed to know that what he needed more than anything was comfort. Still dressed, they lay on the bed together, holding onto one each other and talking softly. Toby remembered a night 6 months earlier that had been similar to this. He had screwed that one up. But this time he wasn't going to give into his demons. This time he wasn't going to let her go.

He had tried to sleep, but too much was happening inside his head. Visions of CJ competed with visions of the temple, his rabbi, and Russell Wise. Slowly these pictures had woven themselves together and he now was beginning to understand how he could stand up to this evil. Instead of feeling tired, he felt energized and alive. He was ready to get in the game.

Toby got up gently and slowly, taking care not to disturb CJ. She started to wake, but he stroked her hair and spoke to her softly. She turned over and buried her head in a pillow. He looked at her for a minute before leaving the room. He never knew he could be so touched by another human being. He carefully closed the door behind him and went to the phone in the living room.

While he had worked carefully not to disturb CJ"s sleep, he had no compunction about waking Sam.

"Who is it?" Mumbled a groggy voice.

"Sam, it's me. Wake up."

"Toby, what time is it? Did something happen? Is everything okay?" Sam was trying to orient himself.

"Listen, It's almost 5 a.m. I need you to get up now and start prepping for my meetings today."

"What the hell, Toby?"

"I'm not coming in. So you need to meet with Ways and Means and you gotta deal with the guys from the tobacco lobby. If you get up now and go down to the office, you might be prepared enough not to embarrass me."

"Are you sick? Is your shoulder going to fall off? Or is this further punishment for my little idea?" Sam couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice.

"None of the above. I am fine. I am very fine, in fact. And I am thinking of never punishing you again."

"What's going on? You live for torture."

"Well, if you have to know, it was a very bright idea to have CJ and I in the same place."

"Oh, my God! Did something happen? I knew it would. I knew it!"

"Shut up, Sam. I swear to God, if you say anything to anyone, I am going to make you wish you chosen a life of crime."

"Oh, Toby, your secret is safe with me. I got your back, big guy. Don't you worry."

"Alright, you know where my stuff is?"

"I got you covered, Toby. You crazy kids just relax and have your little day of fun."

"What! You depraved imbecile! I am staying here to work. Get your sordid mind out of the gutter. CJ will be going into work today. And if you so much as look at her with your pornographic thoughts, I'll maim you with a toothpick!"

"Toby, I didn't know, I wasn't thinking…"

I take back what I said about punishment. Punishment is back on the table, my little sex-crazed friend. Thinking that CJ and I planned on frolicking while this country goes to hell in a handbasket. What lunacy!"

"Now Toby, would you just calm down. I got a little carried away is all."

"Alright, but you are going to behave yourself today. If I hear that you spent even one minute looking at CJ with your idiot grin, so help me, Sam…"

"I get the picture, Toby. I'll be the soul of discretion. I promise you."

"You know, you're right about one thing."

"I am almost afraid to ask."

"I do live for torture."

"Toby!"

"Be prepared for a long day, Princeton. I am going to need you later on."

"Okay. I will wait to hear from you. Say Toby, ah, before you go, did you really have to say frolic 'cause you know, now I am going to have to deal with the actual visual of you frolicking, which is very scary, and I really should be concentrating on these meetings, you know." Sam quickly hung up before Toby could land more abuse on him. Toby chuckled to himself. Sam was getting very, very good at this. He picked up the phone again and ordered a pot of coffee.

Then he went to his briefcase. He pulled out three yellow legal pads and some pens. He set everything down on the lamp stand next to the couch. He sat down and leaned his head back, thinking. Then he picked up a pen and pad and began to write.

The anxiety and excitement of the night's activities were competing inside of her for Donna's attention. Since 10 p.m. the night before, they had been in and out of chat rooms and message boards plying their wares. The guys were expert at finding and accessing sites off the beaten path. They would get Josh in and then let him loose. Josh then went to work, adding provocative questions and comments to the conversation. There was no question in Donna's mind that Josh would be a skillful litigator if he chose. He might not know the law as well as a guy like Sam, but he could think on his feet. He left every chat room he entered in a state of chaos and confusion. The guys marveled at how he could weave an argument around they threw at him.

The racist premise that he put forth was simply that the temple bombing was meaningless. It hadn't cut at the power structure of the government. He suggested that true growth in the white power movement would only happen through the courage of men willing to stand up for their convictions. Instead this action had only brought sympathetic attention to this country's Jews. Donna flinched whenever Josh wrote something anti-Semitic on the computer screen. She searched for signs of the conflict that must be brewing within. But all she saw on his face was fierce concentration. During one of the short breaks between chat rooms, Josh noticed her concern. He assured her that he had no problem using the rhetoric of hate to fight these men. "I know who I am, Donna. I have no conflict with this. I will use the hate they have for people like me to bring them down." He assured her softly, brushing his hand lightly through her hair. It was the tender moments like these that brought emotions to the surface for Donna that she wished she could ignore.

It was five a.m. now. Two hours earlier, they had logged onto an obscure site called Heaven Sent. Despite the gentle name, this was a site devoted entirely to the premise that God's chosen were white, Christian, heterosexual Americans. Josh thought that it was amazing how many people were on these sites throughout the night. He was able to easily provoke some ideas on the message board and then lured several people into the site's chat room.

At first, it had been nothing but the same old rhetoric coming Josh's direction. Most of it was relatively unschooled and Josh was able to dismiss it easily. Then something curious happened. Someone new logged on with the screen name, IITEOTL4. At first, he quietly lurked in the room. Then he entered a startling question.

"How does man offer up the righteous deaths of these Hebrews to the Lord?" Josh stared at the screen for a minute before responding.

"That's the first intelligent question I have heard all evening. Can you say more?"

"There is no more to say. Those who are righteous live their lives for the Lord. Sacrifice is necessary to pay homage to his greatness."

"That explains the deaths of four Jews?"

"There is no hate in the heart of a true believer of the Lord. There is only recognition of a natural order to things. To ignore that order is to turn your back on the almighty. The Jew is at the bottom of this order. It is not with hate that he is killed. It is merely the will of the Lord." Donna felt a cold chill run down her spine with a horror that was different than anything else she had felt since entering the underworld of white supremacy. This was certainly not the Christian Protestant perspective with which she had been raised. She held her breath as Josh considered his response.

"That is the first interesting perspective I have heard since this action occurred."

"I don't know who you are. I don't know what you represent. But I am tired, so very tired of the misunderstanding this country has fostered about this event. Even those who would call themselves my brethren talk of this offering to God as if it was some sort of guerilla action. This was not an attempt to irritate the heathens within the US government. It was about the Jew's unwillingness to recognize their lot in life, especially the Jew Ziegler. I tired of watching him assume an exalted position in life." Josh's throat tightened and his breath quickened.

"You sound as if you see this with a clearer eye than some of our less educated brothers."

"I see with eye of a true believer. I see with the eye of one who has been at the temple of the Jew and watched it fall in flames."

"Finally, I am able to talk with someone who knows of what they speak. Please tell me about the temple and the flames."

"No, I have no time for further conversation with you tonight."

"We have so much to talk about."

"Do not e-mail me. It will return unanswered. When I am ready, I will find you somewhere in this community."

"I will look for you again tomorrow evening. I have thoughts to share with you as well. Before you go, your screen name, I am curious about it. What does it signify?"

"Innocent in the eyes of the Lord."

"And the four?"

"My offerings to God."

Then he signed off. For a minute, there was silence. They were all stunned. Then Bob nudged Rupert and they jumped at their computers, looking for a way to track him. Red Eye looked for a minute at the man he had so cavalierly dubbed Fred a mere four days ago, he considered something to say, but then he just shook his head and joined his comrades in the chase.

"You are going to need a King James Bible." Donna said, her eyes were still wide from the encounter.

"I won't know what to do with the New Testament."

"That's what I'm around for, Fred. I am your resident Protestant, remember."

"Donna, I'm not sure that it's such a good idea for you to stick around down here. There's lots of things that need doing upstairs. Besides, I didn't anticipate intensity of his…craziness."

"You are not getting rid of me, Josh. I'm in this all the way. I have a stake in this too. He's going down, Josh. You and I are going to make sure of that." Donna spoke in a clear, firm voice. Then she noticed the slight trembling in his hands from exhaustion and anger. She put her hands over his to calm them. Josh looked at her gratefully.

"It's time to bring Ron Butterfield into this, Josh. He can help us do this." Donna continued speaking to him firmly. Josh nodded his understanding. Back-up sounded good about now.

"I wonder what name our three stooges will christen poor Butterfield with." He wondered out loud.

"It doesn't matter right now, Fred. You're going to bed."

"I'm not going home." He protested.

"I know. I think Charlie can help us scare up a little space for you in the residence."

"You're coming too!"

"Well yeah, Fred, I would really love to, you know. It's just that Mrs. Landingham has this thing about us napping with our bosses." She brushed away his protest. "Don't worry about me. I'll use your couch. I am used to it. I have spent many an afternoon whiling away the time there when I got bored doing work." She grinned at him devilishly. Then she linked her arm in his and together they walked out the door.

Leo walked into his front office at 7 a.m. that morning. He was surprised at how quiet it was. He could usually count on at least a couple of his rabbits no matter what time he came in. He was contemplating this development when a woman with her head intently reading a file emerged from his office.

"Margaret!" He yelled.

Thoroughly startled, Margaret screamed, and Leo watched his work on the North Korean Arms Agreement rise up into the air and then flutter to the ground.

"Leo!" She scolded him as she frantically tried to gather up 100 pages of sensitive material. Leo joined her on the floor unwilling to let her exert herself.

"You said next week, Margaret."

"Well, I am better now, Leo. Besides you wouldn't believe what those girls did to my computer. I am going to have to rewrite code and everything." Leo experienced an involuntary grimace when he remembered the last time Margaret started getting creative on her computer. He suspected that tech support was going to have another collective aneurysm. They regarded her a menace of epic proportions.

"Margaret, I swear to you, if tech support has to visit me one more time about your antics, I will help them build a federal case against you." Leo warned her.

"Well your welcome has been most inspiring, Leo." Margaret wilted him with her eyes.

"Margaret, I am not at all sure you should be here yet. I don't want you sick again. I don't think I can handle you ever being sick again for the rest of your life. It's inconvenient, you know." Margaret was touched by his words until the last sentence.

"The doctor saw me yesterday and he says I'm fine. In fact, he thinks work may be more restful for me than being at home."

"And why would that be?"

"Well, he caught me painting my kitchen yesterday." Margaret said chuckling before realizing what she had said.

"Your doctor makes house calls?"

"Oh, yeah, well, just this once." Margaret said nervously.

"What the hell kind of doctor is this? Nobody from Bethesda makes house calls. If anyone did that, my hip and I would know about it."

"The kind of doctor who wants to take me out to dinner."

"What! What kind of ethics are those. I will have him out of there on his butt so far it'll make your head spin." Leo threatened.

"You will do no such thing, Leo. He is a very nice man. He took very good care of me. And he didn't ask me out until he said that I had no further need of his services. So you just stay away from him."

"Well, what do you know about him?" Leo persisted.

"He is a few years older than me. He was recently divorced…"

"Divorced! This is not a clue to you!"

"Leo, you're getting divorced and I am thinking something biblical right now about he who casts the first stone." She gave him a long look.

"Margaret, I expect better from you than to see you to take up with any old Tom, Dick, or Harry that comes along." Leo was ignoring her logic on the divorce thing. "You should be waiting for just the right man."

"Leo, I am forty years old. My allusions about the "right man" were dashed about 10 years ago. Besides I really like him."

"Alright, Margaret. When am I going to meet him?"

"Hopefully never." She mumbled.

"Can I even know his name?"

"No, I don't trust you. You'll put a tail on him or something."

"Okay, but you will tell me if there is any kind of a problem."

"Yeah, Leo, you will be the first one I run to."

He eyed her suspiciously. Was that sarcasm or would she really come to him if there were trouble?

"Leo, let's to work. There is a lot going on today. I talked to Donna. She and Josh have been with some computer guys all night. They think they have some important stuff to add to this investigation. Their guys are finishing up some tracking or something. Anyway, they want to meet with you at noon."

"Why not now?"

"I told you, these guys are doing some sort of tracking thing. And Josh and Donna are sleeping. Donna says that Josh has been up the last two nights straight. He wants to be coherent for you."

"Okay."

"There is plenty for you to do on your desk. Go in there and stop bothering for me for a while." She gave him a quick smile and settled down at her computer with a screwdriver in hand. Leo saw the screwdriver and he fled. There was no telling what manner of illegal activity she was going to engage in now. It was usually best if he stayed ignorant to her projects for as long as possible.

Leo shut the door and headed for his phone. He found a number in his book and dialed.

"Hello…This is Leo McGarry. I have a job for you…I need a background check done on some doctor from Bethesda…Never mind why….Here's what I want you to find out…

Toby had to give up on using his right hand about noon. He had always felt a little less creative on his laptop, but today he couldn't wait. After a couple of hours, his shoulder was aching far too mush for him to do anything but let it rest. He tried to sleep a little until the pain went down, but he couldn't. He was far too wired. He attempted to cajole the Secret Service into doing some typing for him, but they declined emphatically. He tried a few histrionics, but they remained unimpressed. "Apparently Butterfield really knows how to put the fear of God into these guys." Toby thought.

Then he went at it from a different angle. After much discussion and consultation, they finally agreed. At about 6 pm, on a Friday evening, Sam was deposited at his spacious living room. It took a few minutes to get him on task. He much preferred wandering the suite, exclaiming, "Wow!", as he entered each new room.

"Get over here. We have work to do." He said in an exhausted and irritated tone. Dark circles had deeply imprinted themselves under his eyes. He indicated a coffee table littered with filled sheets of yellow legal paper surrounding a laptop with a filled screen. Sam let out a whistle as he surveyed the chaos.

"What do you have going here, Toby?"

"I'm not exactly sure." He admitted.

"Well, I can see that everything is numbered. That's something, at least." Sam was giving Toby a critical once over. "How about we make a deal." He advanced. "You let me go at this. I'll organize it while you get some sleep."

"You might need my help." He said stubbornly.

"I'll hold any questions I have until you wake up."

"No, we don't have a lot of time. CJ and I can't live like prisoners for much longer."

"Okay, but you're just going to get in my way. Close your eyes at least. I'll nudge you the second I need anything." Sam watched as Toby tried to find a spot at the corner of the couch. Sam could see that Toby was in some serious discomfort. Yet despite the pain, Toby was soundly sleeping within a few minutes. Sam picked up the stacks of paper and sighed. He was curious about what Toby had been up to all day. But he could see from the mess that it was going to take a little time before he was going to be able to make any sense of it.

"Sam!" CJ exclaimed as she entered the suite around midnight. She had been at a state dinner all evening waiting impatiently to return to the refuge of this place and Toby. She was not prepared for Sam to be there. "What are you doing here? There isn't a problem, is there?"

Sam shook his head at her and then put a finger to his lips, gesturing at the sleeping Toby who was draped over the arm of a sofa.

"How long has he been sleeping?" She asked in a soft voice careful not to wake him.

"I showed up at six and convinced him to close his eyes for a little while."

"Has he got you working on that project he started this morning?"

"Yeah."

"He tried to explain what he was doing, but I wasn't sure that even he understood what it was."

"It's amazing, CJ. It's sort of an open letter to his attackers and their followers."

"What do you mean?" CJ wore a concerned look. The last thing she wanted was for Toby to receive more exposure. "It's not a good idea for him to be public right now."

"This letter is brilliant, CJ. It may be a little risky, but it will be the right thing to do."

"I don't understand, Sam." She was worried. It had only been 24 hours since she and Toby had finally been able to reach each other in a meaningful way. She wasn't interested in plans that would threaten that accomplishment in any way.

"Listen to this, CJ. It is very subtle.

"I am a man as you are men. We are separated now, as we always will be, by culture, history, and beliefs. We will never understand one another and we will never try. None of us are men of compromise. As you believe me to be a danger to this country, I believe you to be the same. I will fight to defend my country against you as you have against me.

I value the traditions that define what it means to be an American. I value my right to believe differently than you. I value my right to face my accusers. These traditions speak to what it means to be a man of honor in this country. I wish to live my life in this way.

I wish to stand and face you as a man of honor. Will you stand and face me? Will you conduct your fight in the open? If you do, you will find me waiting, ready to battle. I will choose the pen as my sword. What will you choose as yours? Or will you continue to attack me under the cover of darkness? Will you own your victory? Or will you hide in the shadows and deny yourself?"

"CJ, he speaks to them man to man. He doesn't try to manipulate or persuade. He calls them out and asks their intentions. He brings up the issue of honor. He even appeals to their probably misogyny. It's incredible."

"It sounds to me like he will only bait them and put himself at greater risk." She replied angrily.

"That's what is so subtle about it. He's not daring them to come after him. He's daring them not to come after him. He's daring them to stand and be men."

"And you honestly think this will reach them. They are sadists. They are criminals." CJ's eyes were beginning to well with tears.

"They are believers. Before anything else, they are believers, CJ. They think they are doing what is right. They will respond to this. Their right to believe differently is acknowledged. They are asked to stand up as men of courage. It's a point of honor. It will be meaningful."

"I think you just want it to be." CJ was trying to protect what so recently had become hers.

"Take some time, read the rest of it. The whole letter is about 20 pages in length. He writes beautifully about this country, its origins, its traditions, and its history. It's poetry, CJ. His emotions, his pain, struggle, joy, everything is in there. In this letter, he's not a government official. He is a man with a deep love for his nation. It translates, it really does. They won't come after him now. It would embarrass them. This letter effectively ties their hands. They can't have his soul. He already gave it to the American people."

"Sam, you are getting carried away."

"I know I am. But he can't lie down and wait for them to come. That will destroy him before they ever could. His choice to stand and fight will be respected by everyone. Everyone, CJ." Sam spoke so earnestly that CJ began to calm. She sat on the sofa beside the sleeping Toby. Reaching out, she softly stroked his arm.

"I don't want to lose him." Her voice caught, her vision blurring from the tears collecting in her eyes.

"I won't let it happen. I promise you." Sam delivered his promise with ferocity.

She wished that it was as simple as all that. But all the same, she appreciated Sam's commitment to protecting his boss and friend. With her hand on his arm, she considered the path he was choosing.

"How's does he want this to go out?" She said finally, her eyes never leaving the sleeping man.

"He wants you to call Danny and have him come down here, tomorrow."

"The Secret Service will allow this?"

"Yes, we've already had that very long fight. It's been approved."

"What about television?"

"We decided no. Toby always looks like he's got ants in his pants when he's on the tube. The last time he was on, the affiliates were flooded with callers who thought Toby was having some sort of heart attack. I mean, he was sort of, cause Tillinghouse was debating gun control with him, but it wasn't a physical kind of heart attack."

"This better work, Sam. I am in deep here. I don't want to do this life without him." Sam's eyes met hers. He nodded his understanding and then he moved to help her get Toby up and to his waiting bedroom.

It was 2 a.m. on Saturday morning and the sub-basement had attracted quite a crowd. The regular cast was assembled there as well as a star-studded list of special guest stars. The FBI and Justice directors were there although they were relegated to the space near the back wall, much to their chagrin. Leo was hanging around near them. He was aware of their dissatisfaction but it mattered little to him.

Ron Butterfield was there. He had a team of people huddled around the now famous conference table engaging in all sorts of technical activity. The most VIP of the guests was Josiah Bartlett who had asked to be summoned the minute they made contact with IITEOTL4. When he arrived, he saw Josh frantically working the screen trying to keep his perpetrator interested. Donna was beside him, thumbing furiously through a King James Bible for quotations that would bolster Josh's positioning. He stood behind them for a minute observing the battle in process. Then he gently prodded Donna out of her seat. He took the bible out of her hands and sat down beside Josh. He looked at the screen for another moment and with two flicks of his wrist, he had found the appropriate response in Revelations.

The guys were still able to retain their spot at the table. At the noon briefing on Friday, they gave a compelling report on their tracking activities. Leo listened carefully to what they had to say. Most of it he didn't understand. Margaret tried to explain whenever he got a confused look on his face, but most of the time she was as stymied as he was. What Leo could figure out from the report was this. The guys had been able to determine that IITEOTL4's system was heavily secured. And that it was strong enough to have posted and run the Toby sites. They also indicated that IITEOLT4 was running off the accounts of many layers of unsuspecting computer users. He would be difficult to track. However, and this is where it got real technical, he was using some sort of antiquated something in his system. If Josh was able to keep IITEOLT4 on the screen long enough, they would be able to triangulate some sort of a thing to his location. Leo finally just shook his head trying to clear it of all the cognitive gymnastics he had just attempted. He looked at the three scruffy men in front of them and asked them what they needed in order to get this done. They looked at each other in surprise. Nobody in government had ever asked them their opinion of anything. With some prodding from Josh, they were able to put together a list of what they needed. Josh noticed a change in his delinquents. They were less acerbic and more respectful to their surroundings. He suspected that they were finally being allowed to be a part of something. When this was all over, he was going to have to find a way to get them out of Lester's clutches for good.

Leo looked at the enforcement agency heads with some frustration. They were here reluctantly. Each had spent the afternoon lobbying to have the entire investigation turned over to them. The idea of a couple of White House staffers and a few computer geeks cracking this case was a little more than either one of them could bear. He was glad that Butterfield had the good sense to take Josh's little project in stride. For a minute, he wondered about Butterfield as a possible candidate for Wills' position, but then he thought better of it when he considered the excellent job Ron does in protecting the president.

"So you thought you were too good for our geeks, huh?' He liked torturing John Parks, the FBI head. Park let out a long suffering sigh.

"Leo, they are convicted felons."

"So is half of Congress, John."

"They broke into the Department of Defense."

"Yeah, but it was kind of cute."

"They reprogrammed a nuclear warhead to point at Minneapolis, Minnesota."

"Only because they had money on the Redskins and the Vikings won. I remember that game. I would have trained a missile on that iceberg myself given half a chance."

"Well, Leo, I am glad that you think it was funny."

"John, they check the positioning on warheads every fifteen minutes. The Twin Cities was a target for approximately 7 minutes if I recall correctly."

"So you don't think it was a serious thing."

"John, I think it was a very serious thing, as was the bombing of a synagogue right under our noses. I told you I wanted full cooperation across the board, and I got a bunch of prima donna bullcrap. So enjoy your view here, it's the closest you are going to get to the glory of this righteous collar, my friend." Having said his piece, Leo left the apoplectic FBI director at the back wall and he went to join the others who were clustered as close around Josh and the President as they dared.

The President and Josh were teaming closely. They discussed possible responses together in low tones before they posted. IITEOTL4 was hanging in there for the time being. He seemed to enjoy the sharp exchange he got from his two pursuers. While he sparred with them eagerly, he showed little of the frankness he had displayed earlier. Impatiently the President urged Josh to talk about the Toby sites. Josh was reluctant. The pressure of the last two nights was beginning to wear on him. He was becoming afraid that he would lose this man. That it would all end up accomplishing nothing. He was losing his edge. The President could see all of this in the young man's bloodshot eyes. He leaned over and whispered some things to Josh. Josh listened intently and then he looked at the President. He nodded his head slightly and the President squeezed his shoulder before taking over the screen. He assumed Josh's screen name and continued the conversation. Soon he was leading IITEOTL4 into a discussion about the web sites.

"How do the Toby sites fit into your perceptions about this being an honorable fight?" He asked boldly.

"The sites are not mine." This revelation stunned the room. There was an assumption that the killers had to be connected to the sites. The information was so accurate. Maybe they had the wrong guy here. Josh had to remember to breath.

"Those who made the sites are younger than I am. They are vainglorious and unfocused. They do not yet serve the Lord as completely as do I. I told them that the reward was an insult. I can assure you that there will not be another site." There was a collective sigh of relief in the room. It was connected and it sounded as if there was some dissension within the group.

The President was going to continue his questions about the site when a shout came from the other end of the table. Rupert was on his feet.

"Provo, Utah!" He yelled. The suits around the room galvanized. They attacked whatever electronics were in their immediate area.

"Randolph Marcus." Now Red Eye was standing. "We don't know for sure, but his account is connected to IITEOTL4 differently than the others." Butterfield was up and walking the room, giving orders.

"I want a check done on him now. Does he have a criminal record? Does he have a file anywhere? I want to know if he has left Utah in the last three weeks. What groups does he belong to? Does he own a gun? Nobody sleeps! Nobody eats! I want information for breakfast today!" He turned to the enforcement heads. "Either one of you want to give me a big plane for the day. I suspect we don't all want to bet the farm on the local authorities to do this thing right." They looked at one another and immediately began to argue about who could offer Butterfield the better plane.

"Sweet Jesus!" Thundered a disgusted Leo. "I have to sit here and think about what my daughter does when kids in her kindergarten act this way. What kind of nonsense is that? Ron, you take whatever plane you want. We'll seize it if we have to."

At the other end of the room, there were three people with nothing to do.

"We are going to get them." Josh said more to himself than the President or Donna. For the moment all he could do and stare at the tabletop and ponder the immensity of this thought.

The President had begged off his conversation with IITEOTL4 perfunctorily. He had no interest in speaking further with a man who had coldly tried to execute a temple full of people. "Does he really believe that he worships a different god than they do?" He wondered to himself, shaking his head.

"Sir, I just spoke to your wife. She wants you back in the residence. She says she will come and get you herself, if she has to." Donna said.

"My wife told you to call her the minute this thing was finished, didn't she?" He eyed her suspiciously.

"Sir, it's never very clear to me which of you I should fear more." She gave him an apologetic smile. He chuckled at her and then looked at Josh.

"Our part is done here, my friend. We will get out of their way now, and let them do what it is they do best. Josh, you have performed magnificently. You too, Donna. Now it is time to rest. Tomorrow, we will have new battles to fight." He patted Josh on the shoulder and walked out the door, his protection giving their colleagues a quick look of envy before hurrying after him.

"Come on." Donna said helping him to his feet. Despite his obvious exhaustion, she knew that he wasn't quite ready for sleep. "I am going to take you to Murray's. We're going to have a huge breakfast. I'm thinking waffles, eggs, and bacon. Then we're going to go sit on the mall and watch the sun rise. What do you say there, big guy?" Josh looked at her with red, blurry eyes and smiled.

"I'm all yours, Donna. I always have been." Her heart leapt for a minute and then she quickly grounded herself in what she believed to be the reality of their situation. He put his arm around her and together they walked out of the sub-basement for the last time.

"I think that's everything." Danny said clicking stop on his tape recorder. Toby breathed a sigh of relief. Interviews were always a struggle for him. As easy as it was for him to know what others should say or not to say to the media, it was different dealing with his own passions and feelings. CJ interrupted the pacing she had begun the minute the two most important men in her life sat down across from one another.

"What do you think, Danny?" CJ asked anxiously.

"I don't know. It's incredible. It's different. It's risky." He said. CJ shot him a look of impatience.

"I get that you want something more than that." Danny replied taking verbal cover. "It's just that I don't remember seeing anything else done in this way. I can tell you that the letter is beautiful. It's naked. It shows so much of who you are and what you are feeling, Toby. And to be honest with you, it's the last thing I would have expected to come from you."

Toby merely nodded his head. All of what Danny had said was true. Now they have to see if it was worth all of the heart he had put into it.

"The letter will be in the Sunday edition of the Times. That is the most read edition of a newspaper in the world. I would imagine that you would reach an appropriately large audience."

"You will print the whole thing, Danny, and the interview too?" Where do you do think it will be? It's large. Can you fit the whole thing? I want the front page, Danny." CJ was throwing all her anxiety his direction.

"CJ, it will be on the front page. And we will print all the pages necessary to get the whole thing in, I promise." The editorial team will squawk for about two minutes and then they'll realize that tomorrow's edition could turn into one of the largest selling in the company's history. Not to mention the fact that our story will be reprinted in newspapers and talked about on news shows for the next week. I think we can safely say that we'll get the story out to the people."

"Okay. Sounds good." CJ was trying to relax. She resumed her pacing. Toby wished she would sit down on the couch with him, he knew she wasn't about to get anywhere near him while Danny was still there. He appreciated her sensitivity. He was not interested in causing Danny any discomfort either. Even though, for years, the two of them had acted like rivals, long before CJ ever came on the scene. And although he would never call himself a friend of Danny Kincannon's, he respected him. He knew that there was no one else who would treat this story with the care and attention that Danny Kincannon would.

"You're sure you don't want to do a little TV in addition to the article?" Danny asked curiously.

"No, we don't want him on TV." CJ said rolling her eyes. Toby looked up at the ceiling. No one ever passed up the opportunity to comment on his on air performances. They couldn't seem to help themselves. "Josh once said that watching Toby on TV was a little like watching a junkie jonesing on his third day without a hit." Danny started to laugh.

"Yes, thank you, CJ. That would be the reason that I will not be appearing on television at this time. We would not want Americans to think that I was without my daily fix." Toby's comeback had some of the funny, acerbic quality that CJ had missed so much in recent weeks. She couldn't help smiling at him, the warmth of her gaze belying the depth of her feeling.

"I should go." Danny said suddenly. Toby stood up to shake Danny's hand and thank him for doing this story. Watching them, CJ wondered if there would ever come a time when the three of them could spend time together laughing and enjoying each other without any kind of awkwardness. She was hoping for that miracle when Sam burst through the front door.

"Boy, do I have news for you!" He exclaimed before realizing that Danny was standing there. Sam stopped short upon seeing Danny and just stood there breathing like a man after a marathon. "I ran the stairs." He explained between huffs.

"Let's hope that's not your big news." Danny joked with him. Sam looked at Toby.

"Will we be giving the press this?" Toby asked. Sam nodded at him.

"There is a briefing scheduled in 30 minutes."

"Damn it, what the hell is going on? I can't get there in time." CJ bellowed.

"I know, CJ, it's okay. Leo is going to do this one."

"What!" CJ was gearing up for a major storm.

"Shit, Sam, I am not going to make it either. What the hell is going on?" Realized Danny. Sam was feeling danger from two directions now.

"Okay, slow down, everyone." Toby mediated. "Sam, why is Leo doing the briefing?"

"He and Butterfield decided that this news was potentially explosive. He decided in light of recent events, he would be the one to be out front right now."

"Sam, you have something important, don't you?"

"Yeah." He glanced at Danny briefly.

"Do you have the statement he is going to read?"

"Yeah."

"Can I have it?" Sam silently handed him the paper. Toby read it. For a minute, he just stood there. Then he looked at Danny.

"My office has a strict policy. Material is never leaked to anyone under any circumstances. I'm sure you understand. Besides, you already have a big chunk of the story. I'm sure you can make it back there in time to catch the end of the briefing. Let me walk you out." Danny started to protest, but Toby was already steering him toward the door.

In the hallway, Toby extended his arm as if to shake Danny's hand again. Except in his palm was the press statement, tightly folded. Danny looked at him, surprised. Toby nodded at him. He reached out and palmed the paper. Before he could thank him, Toby had turned to go back inside. Danny stood there for a minute staring at the door to the suite. Then he turned and ran down the hallway, trying to punch numbers into his phone and read the statement all at the same time.

Back inside the suite, Toby immediately found himself with an armful of CJ. Clearly Sam had spilled the beans. Sam stood back and smiled that big farm boy grin that Toby so enjoyed about his young friend.

"They got them!" CJ was ecstatic. She was trying to hug Toby without disturbing his shoulder. He just stood there good-naturedly and basked in all of her attention.

"They arrested Randolph Marcus this afternoon at 3p.m. our time. They arrested his brother, Donald and two of their associates, Phillip Hart and Steven Smith, about an hour later."

"The case looks good?" Toby looked at Sam with hopeful eyes.

"They had a search warrant, Toby. Marcus' house was like a dream come true for our guys. There were weapons, anti-Semitic literature, and articles of the temple bombing pasted on all over the walls. Hey Toby, listen to this. This is the best part. There were bomb-making materials spread out on a table in the basement workshop."

"The nightmare is over!" CJ was positively gleeful. Having found it difficult to hug Toby properly with his bad shoulder, she turned her attentions to Sam. Toby had sobered a little with her last statement. Sam could see the drop in his mood.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"This is great news, Sam. It really is. But it doesn't solve everything. There are still a lot of guys that might think killing me is worth $20,000."

"Yeah, I know Toby. Still I have a lot of faith that this will work out for us. I can't wait to see what happens with this newspaper article. I think that things are really going to go our way." Sam smiled at both of them with the face of an optimist. Instead of feeling cynical, Toby was comforted by Sam's faith.

CJ sat on the couch next to him, resting her head on his good shoulder. Sam had left only minutes earlier. Still exuberant, he was returning to the White House to hang out with Leo, Josh, and whoever else might want to share his joy. She was glad they were alone. Ode to Overindulgence had become a sanctuary where they could hide from everything. Part of her feared that they would lose this magic when it was time to go home again.

"I would imagine you are pretty tired." She asked him breaking the silence.

"Actually, I am still a little wired." He replied softly. "In fact, if it wasn't for my bad wing, your virtue would be some pretty serious jeopardy this evening, Claudia Jean."

"I have been waiting for you to take advantage of me ever since you kissed me at Camp David."

"I know. This "taking it slow" business is for the birds."

"Tell me again why you can't ravage me?"

"Well, I'm still kind of awkward with only the one good arm."

"You know Ziegler, if I had wanted graceful, I would be out stalking Mikhail Baryshnikov right now." She gave him a meaningful look. "And if you are running low on arms, I know where you could get a couple extra for a good deal." Toby wasn't about to argue with her. She reached up for his face and gave him a long, tender kiss. He watched as she then stood up and gestured to him with an unmistakable smile. Then he got up and followed her obediently into the bedroom.

Jed Bartlett gave his protection one more meaningful glare. He knew they were just doing their jobs and he was lucky to have such diligent, courageous men on his detail. Still he wanted them to remember that he was a man who prayed nightly for the coming of a day when there weren't men in suits following him around like puppies, shaking their heads every time he wanted to look out a window, or order a pizza, "For Chris'sakes." He was planning to hold onto the pizza thing for a while. It would have been perfect for this evening's little event.

He had decided he was going to have a little celebration this Sunday evening. Of course, being Jed Bartlett, he decided this about two hours before the celebration was to begin. Abby expressly forbade him from throwing the kitchen staff into hysterics with a large meal and no notice. So he came up with pizza. He was going to order the best pizzas DC had to offer. Only the Killjoy Boys intervened. Abby jumped in before he got to the point of having to do some apologies. Being married to Jed Bartlett meant that she was in the running for the title of Most Patient Woman in the World. A few minutes with the kitchen staff, and she had arranged for them to do three simple things; make a large batch of pizza dough, put together a lovely pizza sauce, and put out fresh vegetables, meats, and cheeses. Then she dismissed the long-suffering staff for the evening. Thus began the forever memorable Jed Bartlett Impromptu Celebration and Make Your Own Night.

"Wasn't it amazing?" Sam exclaimed one more time. Josh was getting worried that Sam would pop a blood vessel in his head or something if he didn't calm down soon.

"It sure was. I have never seen anything like it in my life. But don't you think you oughta…." Josh attempted before Sam cut him off.

I mean "This Week with David Brinkley" went so far as to read the entire letter in the first half of the show! That's unprecedented, Josh! I've never seen anything like it!" Josh wondered where he could get a tranquilizer gun. Donna was sniffing at Sam's version of a pizza. It had things like arugula and goat cheese on it. "Californians are weird." She thought before returning to Josh's more traditional, but messy, 10 vegetable delight, heavy on the olives.

"The Times had to print an extra! You can bet it's been a while since they've been able to do that!"

"Listen there, buddy. I have not been in coma for any part of today. I am aware of the electric response out there to Toby's letter." Josh was taking control. He was looking Sam in the eye as a snake charmer might with an unfocused cobra. "But we gotta take this slow, Sam. I've been checking the chat rooms. So far, nobody much knows what to say about this response to the craziness hatred alive in this country. They aren't even talking about the arrests. We have to see what they do with all of this."

"It has to be good for Toby and CJ. There is no other way I can see it." Sam pleaded with him.

"I bet you're right, Sam. Butterfield says that if things stay quiet for the next few weeks, CJ and Toby won't need a safehouse anymore. But let's just hold it down to a dull roar until it feels a little more solid, okay." Josh reasoned. Sam got somewhat subdued for a minute. Then he spotted Kathy in the corner and made a beeline for her position. Josh suspected she would rue the day she had ever accepted an invitation to the President's party.

"Your pizza is awfully messy, Josh." Said Donna, trying to contain the vegetables on her crust long enough to get them into her mouth. "So what I am thinking is this. Since this outfit is new, if I spill anything on it from your defective food product, I will go so far as to get it cleaned myself and then just leave the bill on your desk. I think it's a pretty good plan. What do you think?" He smiled at her and then planted a big, wet, pizza kiss on her check. He laughed as she squealed and ran off to find a napkin.

At the other end of the room, Leo was engaged in conversation with the President. While Leo seemed rather concerned, the President could not erase the amused look that kept creeping onto his face.

"I'm serious, Jed. She hardly knows this guy. It's same as if some stranger approached her on the street."

"Did she have a good time last night?'

"She won't tell me. But it must have been good. He took her out to an expensive place and they stayed for hours. They even had dessert. She's probably gonna marry him." Leo wore a disgusted look.

"She wouldn't tell you anything and yet you have some awfully interesting information about her date, sort of the kind of information a person might have if they had followed them." Jed gave his friend a pointed look.

"Oh, Jed, I would never do something like that. That's like stalking. No, I just had a guy from Justice, you know, go and have a little dinner there." Leo was beginning to wish he had never brought this up.

"Leo, you crazy person! You can't do that! You have to let her live her life! What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know." Leo admitted.

"Do you have feelings for Margaret?"

"Oh my God, Jed. Of course not! Where would you get that?" Leo thundered, outraged at the mere suggestion. Jed Bartlett just looked at his friend and shook his head. "Who knows what's really going on in that head of his?" He thought whiling politely listening to Leo's protests. Abby had managed to catch part of their conversation. Curious now, she went in search of Margaret whom she found curled up on a couch glumly ignoring the pepperoni pizza in front of her.

"Hey, Margaret. Mind if I sit down?"

"Oh!" She exclaimed noticing the first lady. "Yes, Ma'am. Please do."

"I hear you had a date last night with the doctor I referred you to. How'd it go?"

"Yeah, I suppose everyone's going to know by the time Leo gets done. Leo thinks that he is some sort of Ted Bundy character." Margaret said sullenly.

"Well, did you have a good time?" Abby persisted.

"Sure, I did. He's smart, funny, successful, gracious, and he acts interested in everything about me. I told Leo that he was almost perfect."

"You know, Margaret, usually when my daughters describe the perfect man as you have, there is a tone of excitement in their voice."

"I'm excited. He wants to see me again next weekend. Wants to take me sailing on his yacht." Margaret replied unenthusiastically.

"Margaret, what's going on?"

"You'll tell him. I'm not ready for him to know. I want him to suffer just a little longer." Margaret said looking at Leo across the room.

"Margaret, I won't tell a soul. If Leo deserves a little punishment, you would be just the one to give it to him." Abby assured her. Margaret eyed her suspiciously for a minute and then decided to go for it.

"Okay. Here's what's going on. I'm not going to go out with him again. That's my big secret. And I want to let Leo stew for a few days before I tell him."

"This is the perfect man. What happened? Did he do something? Was he mean?" Abby searched her face for clues.

"No, none of the above. He was a perfect gentleman. And he acts like he really likes me."

"Margaret, you have to help me here. What happened?" Said the exasperated Abby.

"Well, he was talking about how easy things have been for him. He mentioned that he was able to get rid of his loans quite quickly. I guess he wanted me to know how solvent he was or something. Anyway, he tells me this story. He says that he had paid for most of his medical school education with the government loans. It's the kind of loan that they forgive if you work in an impoverished area as a doctor upon graduation. Apparently he got sent to a small town in Texas near the Mexican border. He said that nobody appreciated his skills there so he left after three months. Said the government never figured it out and they forgave $35,000 in loans. Can you believe that? He laughed when he told it. When I told him I didn't think his story was funny. He gets all contrite and sorry for me, but says he would feel worse if it wasn't for the fact that a lot of doctors do it. What kind of person is that?" She asked passionately.

"Unfortunately he's right. A lot of doctors do get away with not fulfilling their service commitment. It's a disgrace. But I'm curious. Are you basing your decision not to see him on this alone?"

"Isn't it enough? All the money, charm, and graciousness in the world can't make up for a man without integrity. Don't you think?"

"Margaret, you are a very bright woman. Leo is lucky to have you in his life." Abby said putting her arm around her. Margaret smiled a little and despite herself, she started to feel better about her life and its single status.

Rabbi Glassman entered timidly into the room. He looked around for Toby, but wasn't able to locate him immediately. He was wondering if he might have been directed to the wrong room when the President of the United States came barreling his direction.

"You must be Rabbi Glassman. I am so glad you could stop by." He said extending his hand. "Toby is around here somewhere. In fact,…Sam, could you see if Toby is in the kitchen?" Jed yelled across the room.

"Toby will be glad to see you." He said smiling at the Rabbi.

"Is he doing well?" Asked the concerned man.

"I think so, Rabbi. He's a strong man and he has a lot of support." Said Jed thinking for a moment of the way Toby and CJ had been acting around one another this evening. "Oh, here he is." He gestured to Toby who had emerged from the kitchen.

"Rabbi Glassman, I didn't expect you this evening." Toby wore a surprised look.

"The President called me today. He's going to attend temple services at Mount Sinai this next weekend."

"You are?" Toby looked at the President.

"You bet I am. And I would like you standing next to me." The President said seriously.

"That's a wonderful idea. You should go. I think maybe I am not ready yet." Toby said looking down at the floor.

"Toby, this was not your fault." Jed said.

"I know. But those people, they didn't know how dangerous it would be to stand next to me. I can't put people at risk like that again." Toby insisted. "Sometimes, I think I should have known better."

"Toby, I know how important temple is to you. Staying away is not the answer." Rabbi Glassman counseled him.

"Then what is? How many temples are you willing to rebuild? How many congregants are you willing to lose? So that I can go to Shul." Toby was beginning to raise his voice.

"You have taken risks to better this country. We have the right to take risks as well." He returned defiantly.

"Do you speak for your congregation? Do they have the right to choose?"

"Toby, it will take some time to rebuild our temple. In fact, when I leave here, I am meeting with the committee about the architectural plans. But I have something for you before I go." He turned to the doorway and pointed at three large boxes the Secret Service had carried in.

"What is it?" He asked cautiously.

"They are filled with letters to you and invitations. They sent them to me because people weren't so sure that you would get mail while you were in hiding."

"What do they say? What invitations?" Toby looked at the boxes with trepidation.

"They are from Jewish congregations and a surprising number of non-Jewish congregations around the country. The invitations are asking you to join their synagogues and their churches. They express their regret at the loss of your temple and they offer their own so that you will have a place to worship. There are letters and invitations from Alaska, Ecuador, Florida, from all over the country and the world." Toby struggled to contain his emotions. "There are about 750 letters from members of our temple, Toby. They all wish you to return once we have rebuilt, all of them, Toby. You are not going to fight alone. We have the right to stand beside you." When he finished, he put his hand on Toby's shoulder. Toby had given in to his tears. He let them fall unhindered.

"So it is decided then. I will see you at Mount Sinai this Saturday." The Rabbi said. Toby nodded at him. Rabbi Glassman gave his shoulder a supportive squeeze and then he turned and left. Toby watched him disappear. Behind him, the room had grown quiet. Everyone had seen the drama unfolding between Toby and his rabbi. Toby could sense the attention. He was reluctant to turn and face them with his emotions so clearly imprinted on his face. He felt an arm going around him and he prepared to stiffen. Then he smelled the soft, sweet scent of CJ Cregg and he relaxed into her embrace. He let her hold him tightly. And then others approached them hesitantly with their hugs and supportive pats. He let them all in.

The End