The Grandfather Clause
skywaterblue
Summary:
Josh Lyman is sent to discover why Senator Kelly's stance on the Mutant Registration Act has suddenly shifted, various secrets are revealed, and ghosts from the past haunt the living.
Notes:
Inspired and written for Paula. I am indebted to those who walked before me, especially for Kielle, who created the concept of TCP stories and was one of the guiding lights of fandom ages ago. Fandom was a kinder, gentler place for her presence and she is sorely missed. I also thank Renata, for her fantastic story, The Blessings of Liberty. I wouldn't even have tried to do this crossover if she hadn't already paved the way and shown it was possible.
Set in late Season Four of The West Wing, after "Inauguration pt.2" but before Hoynes' resignation, and in some variant of the movieverse between X-Men and X2. Yes, I know that Magneto has canon children and grandchildren in the main Marvelverse comics.
Chapter 1 : Voodoo Economics
7:19 AM
The White House
By seven in the morning, the main foyer of the West Wing was already bustling with activity, as the coffee began to settle in and staffers began to hustle with animated industry to work on the issues of the day. Josh Lyman passed through them, shifting his backpack on his shoulder and wishing that that fall would finally arrive, bringing with it relief from the tepid and muggy atmosphere of the district. 'Built on a goddamn swamp,' he thought irritably.
"Well, you're in a chipper mood this morning," the familiar tone of Donnatella Moss chirruped as she appeared out of nowhere to fall in step alongside her boss. She hummed with her usual energy, projecting warm feelings. He was sure that'd wear off by noon.
Josh turned to regard her with suspicion. "How do you do that?"
"I told you, I'm attuned to you. I could feel your negative hoojoo half a mile away."
He looked at her and frowned. "I think the word you're looking for is 'voodoo', which it isn't, and I'm not."
Donna snorted, "Hoojoo is a word."
"If you're from the Bayou," Josh retorted, as he passed through the double doors into the Bullpen, territory of the policy wonks. His domain, if you would. Everything felt comfortably frenetic, as it should, magnified by the noise of the copiers and the chatter of half a dozen morning news anchors.
Donna rolled her eyes as he flopped his backpack into the computer chair in his office. "Whatever. So, what's wrong with you? It's a beautiful morning, the sun is shining, the birds are singing..."
"...the air conditioning is broken," he finished, in the same sing-song she had been using. "Again. Third time this year, Donna. Do you have any idea how much money I pay for that place?"
She flipped through the folders in her arms, "More than you pay me." Two blue folders flopped onto his desk with a slight thud. "I'll call the super for you. You have Senior Staff in ten minutes. Commerce is coming by at nine to talk about the internet access initiative and you need to read these memos before you take that meeting. The post-its mark the charts and graphs in case you run out of time and need to skim. You're meeting Davidson at noon at Morton's to talk about organic food regulation, and Skinner at four about bipartisan support on the omnibus transportation thing. Carrick called, he wants a meeting with you about the Marine Mammals Protection Act at two, and Toby and CJ need to see you as soon as humanly possible."
He considered, "Schedule Carrick for tomorrow - or better yet, see if you can faff it off on Will's desk. He wants to bitch about the Navy's new sonar device being held up. What did Toby and CJ want?" He grabbed the manila folder with his information for Senior Staff, and the blue folders Donna had ever so graciously dropped on his desk, then turned around and started for the door.
Donna followed right behind him, stopping at the entrance to her cubicle. "CJ said it had to do with Senator Kelly and CSPAN."
"Ahkay," Josh called back to her, trotting down the hall to CJ's office. Empty. He made a sharp left, past the press room and out to the lobby, then through to the Communications Department. He felt them before he spotted them, a dark roil of tension that was typically Toby, with CJ compressing her strong anxious ripples. They made his stomach flutter. As he got closer, he also picked up on a deep undercurrent of concern.
Both of his colleagues were in Toby's office, Toby behind his desk and CJ leaning against it, television remote in her hand.
"Donna said you guys were looking for me?" He asked.
Toby scratched at his beard, tapping a ballpoint pen against a yellow legal pad. CJ, however, launched right in, "What do you know about a speech that Senator Kelly is going to be giving today in front of the Joint Committee for Mutant Rights?"
"About the Registration Act?" Josh asked, confused. "They've been eating up floor time on that for months, ever since the thing."
CJ twisted in place to look at Toby. He started, rubbing his forehead, "There's... there's a rumor - "
She spun back, her hand flying up to forestall him from freaking out. Josh swallowed and decided to try and hear them out before launching into a panic. "Not that kind," she picked up from Toby. "There's a rumor that he's going to do something big today."
He looked from CJ's eyes to Toby's. "It's not going to get out of committee. Lawson's the deciding vote, I just met with him yesterday. Half his agenda comes from us feeding him enough pork to open an IHOP so it'll stay that way. Trust me on this." His confidence tamped down some of the more rampant emotions. "Why are you guys so worried about this anyway? Senator Kelly's practically got Friends of Humanity membership tattooed on his ass- so does half of Congress. What's one more speech?"
CJ looked at her watch, and then flipped through the channels. "Fox is going to cover it live."
"So? They've been covering a lot of this stuff."
Toby harrumphed, "It was dying down. Finally. Months and months of the message getting sidetracked by this - we were finally getting back to actually governing."
"Mutants are good ratings. Nothing makes the average American turn into the local news more than footage of an angry youth running around Topeka setting things on fire with his hands. The budget negotiations, our foreign policy in China, the peacekeeping mission in Kundu - all of these issues, I assure you, have a bigger effect on their lives than that kid in Topeka - "
" - Yeah," Josh cut her off. "I get it, CJ."
Toby stood up, gathering a pile of things from his inbox, "We're taking it to Leo."
" - what else?" Leo asked, unfolding a piece of message paper that Margaret had just handed him. He looked up at her over his glasses, "In half an hour." The perky redhead nodded and left the room silently.
Toby glowered from the leather couch. "The Argentina - "
"No. He's got a full load today Toby, and that can sit for another week. Anything else?"
From the couch, Toby looked at CJ. CJ flicked a quick look at him, hands folding on top of her clipboard. "There's a rumor going around... No, hear us out on this, that Senator Kelly's going to give some sort of barnstormer today on the floor on the Registration Act."
Leo sighed, annoyed, "We get about three of those a week, CJ. It's enough to make me think that the gag rule had a lot of merit and wisdom. So what?"
"This one's different. Live coverage on Fox."
"They all get live coverage on Fox, Toby." Leo retorted, "It's more interesting than budget negotiations on the importation of shrimp."
"Well, I think what Toby and I are trying to say, is that - we've spent all summer debating the Mutant issue, and it gets us nowhere. It's not that it's not the right fight, but the country isn't ready to ready to move on it. Meanwhile, the issues that we can move forward languish on the bottom of the third page of the Post, because every time someone goes out there, the questions aren't about Argentina or shrimp. They're about the administration clinging to a contrarian position and holding back legislation that seventy five percent of Americans want to see passed."
Josh looked down at his hands, then clicked the ballpoint pen end and added the finishing touch to a perfect scene of flying saucers in a dog fight with F-16s. Okay, so the flying saucers were a little lopsided, and he wasn't quite sure that's what an F-16 even looked like, but...
Leo sighed and let his glasses drop to the desk. "What do you want to do about it?"
Josh looked up, in surprise. CJ and Toby echoed his own feelings, resonating around the room. "Well," CJ started, and with a slight shrug, "I suppose we should take a meeting. See if there's something we can give him to hold off."
"Fine," Leo agreed. "Josh, schedule the meeting. Is that it?"
"Josh?" Toby questioned with a slight nervous laugh.
Josh blinked and looked over at Toby and CJ, "Wait. I really think this should be Toby, I'm not... "
Leo turned from Toby and CJ, eyes settling on Josh's face. His boss's face set, as did his mood, determined and full of utter certainty in him. Josh blinked once more, and ran his hand through his hair. He was not at all certain he deserved that from Leo. "Schedule the meeting and get it done as soon as humanly possible. It's time to stop gumming up the works." And then Leo sat down in his chair, and opened a file folder, signaling an end to the meeting.
He clicked his pen, and dumped it into his pocket, standing up. CJ and Toby were already half way out the door, uncharacteristically silent. Pensive and tense, too- they didn't want him doing this anymore than he did.
"Josh, stick around for a minute."
Toby turned back, and hearing that, closed the door behind him. Sealed in with Leo McGarry now, he bemoaned the lack of escape. The last thing he wanted was to talk about this with anyone. Least among them Leo. Josh sighed, and looked down at the carpet, leaning against the highbacked chair. He waited for his boss to say something, but it became increasingly noticeable that Josh didn't have his full attention. Apparently he was going to have to start. "I'm not avoiding it."
"Coulda fooled me," Leo replied, looking up and putting his glasses back on, then back down on the page. "You're leaking anxiety all over the room. You want to put a stopper on that?"
Josh swallowed and tried to rein it in a little, taking a deep breath. Mentally, he rolled in his emotions, stuffing them in a tight wad in his stomach. It ached a bit, straining against his control. When was the last time he had practiced reining it in? He couldn't remember, just the constant dull throbbing in his chest that he had carried around after the shooting, when he kept stuffing them deeper and deeper, long after the physiological pain had ceased to trouble him. "I didn't realize..."
Leo turned a page, "Josh, if I had a dollar for every time you didn't realize you were broadcasting to the entire room, I'd be a rich man." He paused and thought about that, "I am a rich man. Huh." Another flip of the page.
"I'm sorry. I'll try harder... "
"Josh, believe me when I say that no one cares. But it's time you got back on the horse. We won, Mutant Rights is a thing and you can't pass it off to Toby every time it comes up."
The leather felt cool and hard under his hands as he ran them across the top of the chair. The metal brads warmed under the heat of his palms. He could feel Leo's eyes boring into his skin, and Josh wondered what he was feeling, but didn't dare let go of his own emotions to find out. He had to say something, anything, "Yeah." He swallowed again, mouth suddenly maddeningly dry.
Leo dropped his gaze, and Josh was intensely thankful. "Get out of here and do a job, would you?"
He didn't have to be told twice, and turned around to make his way out, eyes downcast and emotion still gnawing and prickling inside him to be set free. "Thanks Leo," he offered as he swept out of the office, making his way to his office, where he could shut the door and let go, post-haste.