Disclaimer: I don't own West Wing. That much is obvious. Because If I did,
I'd be writing out episode storylines and not bothering with FF.Net.
A/N: Some of the characters you don't recognize are real people or are based on real people though I won't say which as to protect those who are real. Yes, I'm in there. Somewhere... This being because I *do* hold political agendas and hope to make it to the White House someday. So... Vote for me.
From the West Wing: Campaign Trail: Seaborn and McShane by Tatt Skywalker
Chapter One: 27 Days
"Sam, you're going to run for President one day," President Bartlet said. "Don't be scared. You can do it. I believe in you."
1:53 PM
Sam Seaborn took a deep breath as he peered out from behind the stage. He exhailed and stood there, absorbing the light breeze greedily. One of the Secret Service men moved to stand beside him but Sam waved the man away and walked back from the edge of the stage. Bartlet had told him he'd run. And now, here he was: In Texas campaigning for the 2016 term. And for the end of October, 2015, it sure was hot.
"Remind why we're here again," he said to his running mate, Senator Karol McShane, and wipped a bead of sweat away.
She handed him a hand held electric fan. "Because you like Texas," she told him. "And it is big and has lots of people making it have a lot of electorial votes."
"You two had better like Texas or I won't let you go out there," Texas Senator, Scott Wildman said as he walked up to them. "You don't campaigne in my state unless you like it."
"Hey, Scotty!" Karol exclaimed. "I didn't know you were coming."
Scott shrugged. "When I'm not on the Hill, I'm here at home. Came to give you some support."
"How's Annie doing?" Karol asked him.
"Wonderful," Scott said. "Those fertility treatments worked great. A little *too* great." Karol looked at him puzzled. Scott raised his right hand, all fingers pointing out. "Five heart beats, though three are really weak."
Both Sam and Karol smiled. "That's great, Scott," Karol said.
"Me and Mallory can sympathize," Sam said. "Multiples... you get through the terrible twos with all your hair and you're lucky as hell."
Scott grinned. "Yes, and how is Rhode Island doing?"
Karol glared at him. It was common knowledge that Senator McShane devoted everything to her state and to her country. "Rhode Island happens to be just fine," Karol told him with a glare.
Scott walked over to look out on the large crowd assembled on the outskirts of the Texas capitol. Sam shook his head as one of his security men touched Scott's shoulder and asked him to step back. Scott walked back to them and said, "Where'd you get these guys, Sam?"
"They're mail ordered," Sam joked.
"I'd like to see that catalog," Scott commented.
"Really? I've got a copy right here." Sam began to reach into his brief case and seemed to be fishing around for the item in question.
The Texas senator's eyes grew wide.
"I'm just kidding, Scott," he said and pulled his empty hand out of the brief cass.
The three of them laughed.
One of Scott's men came over to him and handed him a cell phone. "Hello?" he said into the phone. A moment later he excused himself and walked a little bit away from the democratic candidates.
"What is he doing here?" Sam asked Karol as Scott walked away. "He's a Republican. What's got him here supporting us?"
"Scott is *not* a Republican, he is whatever the hell he wants to be," Karol said. "It was on the Christmas card."
Sam laughed then he remembered the cards that Scott and his wife had sent to all... well... almost all of Congress the previous December. "That wasn't a joke."
Karol grinned.
One of the Secret Service men walked over to Sam. "Senators?" he said. "You're clear to go on stage."
Scott had handed the phone back too his man and was still standing where he'd been. Karol motioned for him to come on and walked over. "We're going on," she told him. "You coming or staying back here for moral support?"
The Texas Senator gave a small smile. "I'm coming," he said. "I'm coming."
Karol frowned. "What's wrong, Scotty?"
"Four heart beats," he replied. "Come on."
Scott bounded up the stairs and onto the stage. There was an eruption of clapping and cheering. For a Senator, Scott Wildman was remarkable well liked. Everyone knew that he wasn't a staller like the others in Congress.
"Karol? What was that about?" Sam asked as they waited by the steps for Scott to introduce them.
"One of the babies died," Karol answered.
Sam nodded gravely. They heard Scott introduce them and they both put on big smiles and walked out on stage.
//Here we go, Sam// Sam thought. //Thirty-two electorial votes. Don't make them hate you.//
***
5:38 PM
"You wanted to be campaign manager Greg," Lisa Morris said and put a lanyard with "Vote Seaborn" slogans on it around his neck. "Good luck, Mr. Tymes."
"I don't want this, Lisa!" he shouted as she left the office. "Lisa!"
Greg fell backwards into his chair with a loud sigh. He did not need this. He was supposed to we writing President Schumer's good-bye speech. How would he do that *and* run the Maryland state campaign?
He saw a young man walk by his office. "Sean!" Greg called. "Sean!"
Sean Bower walked into the office. "Yeah?" he asked. "Hey, where'd Lisa go?"
"Away," Greg answered. "Congrats, Seany boy. You're the new campaign manager."
"WHAT! Mr. Tymes, no. I can't, sir," Sean pleaded. "I've got classes!"
"I'll write you a note," Greg shouted as he ran out of the door.
"Mr. Tymes!" Sean whined.
The man sighed in relief as he left the building then muttered, "Poor kid."
He started walking and saw her at the corner of 11th and M. Street trying to flag a cab. Greg started to run and got to the corner before any of the cabbies acknowledged her.
"Lisa," he said. "We need to talk."
"We *did* talk Greg," she growled.
"Well, we need to talk again. 'Cause right now, Sean is running the Maryland campaign and all your work is probably about to go down the drain," Greg yelled.
Lisa stared at him. "You made that poor kid take your job? Bumming off your responsiblities, Greg? I thought you were better than that."
Greg was losing his patience. "Damnit Lisa!" he shouted. "Just... just come back. I won't get in your way. I swear."
Lisa looked at him. "Good bye, Greg," she said and ran across the road. A taxi pulled up and she got in.
Greg shook his head. He sure hoped that Seaborn and McShane were doing good elsewhere. Sean was a great kid but no leader and Greg didn't have time for this.
He started walking down M. Street to gather his thoughts. Greg was glad Schumer's second term was up. He liked the guy and all but he insisted on making a speech everyday. After a while, Greg and his assistant, Eryk Ashcroft, had gotten smart and wrote them ahead of time so they could just pick a speech out of the filing cabinet that fit the occasion. And though Eryk wasn't coming back if Seaborn won, Greg was. His title, Director of Communications, was safe for atleast another four years. Good old Eryk was going back to Kansas to run for House Representitive.
Suddenly, a taxi pulled up to Greg. The back window rolled down and Lisa's head popped out. "I hate you," she said.
"We already determined that," he retorted.
Lisa sighed. "I went and saw Sean trying to run the campaign," she continued. "How could you do that to him? Or the rest of them? The office is in discord and I swear I saw someone throw something."
"Sounds like the kid is doing a good job," Greg said.
"God, don't you give a damn about anything?" Lisa shouted.
"Yeah," Greg answered. "About doing my job. Maybe you should do yours."
Lisa sighed. "I'm going back on Monday."
"It's Thursday," Greg said.
"I'm taking a few days off."
"Fine. Why are you telling me?" Greg asked. "*I'm* not."
Lisa looked at him. "And why not?" she asked almost hurt.
"I have stuff I need to do," Greg told her. "*I* have a *real* job. Yours will be gone in a months time."
"Twenty-seven days," Lisa said automatically.
Greg shook his head. "Whatever. I've got a speech to write." He walked off.
Lisa sighed once more and rolled the window back up. Life was not good.
***
7:24 PM
Jenna Clark collapsed into an oversided chair in the White House hallway. It suddenly struck her as odd, why would the chair even be there? But she discarded the thought. It was comfortable and she hadn't slept since Tuesday afternoon in the last White House press conference. Who cared that Schumer was going to give a speech? He was out of there. Jenna didn't have to worry about him again.
"Comfortable?" someone asked.
Jenna jumped. "Huh? What?" She looked around and saw the New York Times reporter, Bobby Towlhouse standing infront of her. She groaned. "What do you want, Bobby?"
"Where'd you get back from? Still following the Seaborn campaign around?"
"Austin," she said. "Wrote the entire article on the plane."
Bobby laughed. "You had to write an article? Doesn't the Annapolis Capital have better things to do with it's star reporter."
"Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere, Bobby boy," Jenna warned. "And I went because appearently the Capital thinks Seaborn is going to win."
Bobby laughed again. "You're a riot, Jenna. Seaborn has a shot but the odds are all pointing at Billings."
Jenna shrugged. "I'm voting Seaborn," she told him, starting to fall back into her sleepy stuper. "Now go away. This is the only time I have to sleep."
"Why don't you go home, Jenna?" Bobby asked her. "The Capital can send someone else. And what are you even doing here?"
"I don't know. Steve wanted to see me and he said to meet him here."
"Speak of the Devil," Bobby said as he walked away. "At three o'clock."
Jenna looked. Steven Paciorek was the chief editor for the Annaoplis Capital. "I didn't do anything wrong, Steve," Jenna called out to her boss.
"I never said you did," Steve responded.
"Then what is it?"
"Damn, Jenna. You look like crap," he commented.
"Thanks," Jenna retorted.
"Anyways... here." He handed her an envelope. "Seaborn likes you, Jenna. But I really want you to consider declining the offer. I don't want to lose you."
Jenna watched him walk off. Okay... she thought. What was that about?
"Ma'am?" a man in a suit came up to her. Behind him were a couple others in overalls with a dolly.
"Oh!" Jenna exclaimed and got up.
The Secret Service man nodded his thanks and motioned for the two men to get to work.
So much for the rest, Jenna groaned and walked out of the White House. She'd almost forgotten about the envelope she'd stuffed in her pocket by the time she'd gotten a cab. As the cab started up she remembered it and opened the envelope up. Inside was a folded piece of paper.
She read it and was surprised and somewhat annoyed. It was a hand written letter from Senator Seaborn requesting that she join his staff as Press Secretary if he was elected. A bit big headed isn't it? she though. Offering out jobs. But she was also somewhat flattered. She could be on the White House staff. But Steve had said to consider declining.
Jenna read the letter again. There was no date that she had to decide by. She looked down at the letter. Wow, she thought. But... would she except?
***
7:36 PM
"Why am I Secretary of Transportation?" Ronald Timmons asked his wife as they sat at the dinning room table eating. The kids were both spending the night at friends's houses so the two had some time alone.
"I don't know, dear," Sarah Timmons said. "Why are you?"
Ronald laughed. "I really don't know why. What do I know about Transportation?"
"You flew planes in the Navy for four years," Sarah reminded him.
"Why couldn't I have been Homeland Security then? I was in the War on Terror," he said. "Why couldn't I have been that?"
"Maybe you can be next President. Terror is still a threat, though I did like that Schumer built off the others and almost eradicated it..."
Ronald laughs. "If Seaborn wins maybe he'll give me that position," he said. "But from what the New York Times says, that probably isn't going to happen."
Sarah smiled at Ronald and took his hand. "You said you wanted to go back into Congress a few years back. If Billings is elected, you should try for it."
The front door burst open and admitted twelve year old Zachary Timmons. He shouted something about 'forgot my gameboy' and ran up the stairs.
"Maybe I should take a break for a few years," Ronald suggested. "Spend some time with you and the kids."
"That would be nice," Sarah said as Zachary ran back out the door. "They'd appreciate it. Zach anyways."
"Yeah," Ronald agreed. "Well, I guess it depends on wether or not our estimed Mr. Seaborn becomes our next President.
"Don't doubt him," Sarah said. "He just might. I think he will."
Ronald smiled. "Well, just for you, I'll vote for him then."
Sarah smiled. "What would your Republican friends think about that?"
"Half of them think Billings is a sap," Ronald answered. "They're all thinking about voting Seaborn, too. I just hope he doesn't disappoint us if he *is* elected."
"I think Senator McShane will keep him in line," Sarah responded. "She's a very determined woman. I'll bet she'll be going for the job after he finishes."
"She'd be the first," Ronald said. "And she clearly stated she didn't want to be a first."
"As I said about Seaborn, don't doubt her, Ron."
Ronald shook his head. "Come one, the news is on. Let's see how messed up the country is tonight."
***
A/N: My first West Wing based fic. What do you people think?
A/N: Some of the characters you don't recognize are real people or are based on real people though I won't say which as to protect those who are real. Yes, I'm in there. Somewhere... This being because I *do* hold political agendas and hope to make it to the White House someday. So... Vote for me.
From the West Wing: Campaign Trail: Seaborn and McShane by Tatt Skywalker
Chapter One: 27 Days
"Sam, you're going to run for President one day," President Bartlet said. "Don't be scared. You can do it. I believe in you."
1:53 PM
Sam Seaborn took a deep breath as he peered out from behind the stage. He exhailed and stood there, absorbing the light breeze greedily. One of the Secret Service men moved to stand beside him but Sam waved the man away and walked back from the edge of the stage. Bartlet had told him he'd run. And now, here he was: In Texas campaigning for the 2016 term. And for the end of October, 2015, it sure was hot.
"Remind why we're here again," he said to his running mate, Senator Karol McShane, and wipped a bead of sweat away.
She handed him a hand held electric fan. "Because you like Texas," she told him. "And it is big and has lots of people making it have a lot of electorial votes."
"You two had better like Texas or I won't let you go out there," Texas Senator, Scott Wildman said as he walked up to them. "You don't campaigne in my state unless you like it."
"Hey, Scotty!" Karol exclaimed. "I didn't know you were coming."
Scott shrugged. "When I'm not on the Hill, I'm here at home. Came to give you some support."
"How's Annie doing?" Karol asked him.
"Wonderful," Scott said. "Those fertility treatments worked great. A little *too* great." Karol looked at him puzzled. Scott raised his right hand, all fingers pointing out. "Five heart beats, though three are really weak."
Both Sam and Karol smiled. "That's great, Scott," Karol said.
"Me and Mallory can sympathize," Sam said. "Multiples... you get through the terrible twos with all your hair and you're lucky as hell."
Scott grinned. "Yes, and how is Rhode Island doing?"
Karol glared at him. It was common knowledge that Senator McShane devoted everything to her state and to her country. "Rhode Island happens to be just fine," Karol told him with a glare.
Scott walked over to look out on the large crowd assembled on the outskirts of the Texas capitol. Sam shook his head as one of his security men touched Scott's shoulder and asked him to step back. Scott walked back to them and said, "Where'd you get these guys, Sam?"
"They're mail ordered," Sam joked.
"I'd like to see that catalog," Scott commented.
"Really? I've got a copy right here." Sam began to reach into his brief case and seemed to be fishing around for the item in question.
The Texas senator's eyes grew wide.
"I'm just kidding, Scott," he said and pulled his empty hand out of the brief cass.
The three of them laughed.
One of Scott's men came over to him and handed him a cell phone. "Hello?" he said into the phone. A moment later he excused himself and walked a little bit away from the democratic candidates.
"What is he doing here?" Sam asked Karol as Scott walked away. "He's a Republican. What's got him here supporting us?"
"Scott is *not* a Republican, he is whatever the hell he wants to be," Karol said. "It was on the Christmas card."
Sam laughed then he remembered the cards that Scott and his wife had sent to all... well... almost all of Congress the previous December. "That wasn't a joke."
Karol grinned.
One of the Secret Service men walked over to Sam. "Senators?" he said. "You're clear to go on stage."
Scott had handed the phone back too his man and was still standing where he'd been. Karol motioned for him to come on and walked over. "We're going on," she told him. "You coming or staying back here for moral support?"
The Texas Senator gave a small smile. "I'm coming," he said. "I'm coming."
Karol frowned. "What's wrong, Scotty?"
"Four heart beats," he replied. "Come on."
Scott bounded up the stairs and onto the stage. There was an eruption of clapping and cheering. For a Senator, Scott Wildman was remarkable well liked. Everyone knew that he wasn't a staller like the others in Congress.
"Karol? What was that about?" Sam asked as they waited by the steps for Scott to introduce them.
"One of the babies died," Karol answered.
Sam nodded gravely. They heard Scott introduce them and they both put on big smiles and walked out on stage.
//Here we go, Sam// Sam thought. //Thirty-two electorial votes. Don't make them hate you.//
***
5:38 PM
"You wanted to be campaign manager Greg," Lisa Morris said and put a lanyard with "Vote Seaborn" slogans on it around his neck. "Good luck, Mr. Tymes."
"I don't want this, Lisa!" he shouted as she left the office. "Lisa!"
Greg fell backwards into his chair with a loud sigh. He did not need this. He was supposed to we writing President Schumer's good-bye speech. How would he do that *and* run the Maryland state campaign?
He saw a young man walk by his office. "Sean!" Greg called. "Sean!"
Sean Bower walked into the office. "Yeah?" he asked. "Hey, where'd Lisa go?"
"Away," Greg answered. "Congrats, Seany boy. You're the new campaign manager."
"WHAT! Mr. Tymes, no. I can't, sir," Sean pleaded. "I've got classes!"
"I'll write you a note," Greg shouted as he ran out of the door.
"Mr. Tymes!" Sean whined.
The man sighed in relief as he left the building then muttered, "Poor kid."
He started walking and saw her at the corner of 11th and M. Street trying to flag a cab. Greg started to run and got to the corner before any of the cabbies acknowledged her.
"Lisa," he said. "We need to talk."
"We *did* talk Greg," she growled.
"Well, we need to talk again. 'Cause right now, Sean is running the Maryland campaign and all your work is probably about to go down the drain," Greg yelled.
Lisa stared at him. "You made that poor kid take your job? Bumming off your responsiblities, Greg? I thought you were better than that."
Greg was losing his patience. "Damnit Lisa!" he shouted. "Just... just come back. I won't get in your way. I swear."
Lisa looked at him. "Good bye, Greg," she said and ran across the road. A taxi pulled up and she got in.
Greg shook his head. He sure hoped that Seaborn and McShane were doing good elsewhere. Sean was a great kid but no leader and Greg didn't have time for this.
He started walking down M. Street to gather his thoughts. Greg was glad Schumer's second term was up. He liked the guy and all but he insisted on making a speech everyday. After a while, Greg and his assistant, Eryk Ashcroft, had gotten smart and wrote them ahead of time so they could just pick a speech out of the filing cabinet that fit the occasion. And though Eryk wasn't coming back if Seaborn won, Greg was. His title, Director of Communications, was safe for atleast another four years. Good old Eryk was going back to Kansas to run for House Representitive.
Suddenly, a taxi pulled up to Greg. The back window rolled down and Lisa's head popped out. "I hate you," she said.
"We already determined that," he retorted.
Lisa sighed. "I went and saw Sean trying to run the campaign," she continued. "How could you do that to him? Or the rest of them? The office is in discord and I swear I saw someone throw something."
"Sounds like the kid is doing a good job," Greg said.
"God, don't you give a damn about anything?" Lisa shouted.
"Yeah," Greg answered. "About doing my job. Maybe you should do yours."
Lisa sighed. "I'm going back on Monday."
"It's Thursday," Greg said.
"I'm taking a few days off."
"Fine. Why are you telling me?" Greg asked. "*I'm* not."
Lisa looked at him. "And why not?" she asked almost hurt.
"I have stuff I need to do," Greg told her. "*I* have a *real* job. Yours will be gone in a months time."
"Twenty-seven days," Lisa said automatically.
Greg shook his head. "Whatever. I've got a speech to write." He walked off.
Lisa sighed once more and rolled the window back up. Life was not good.
***
7:24 PM
Jenna Clark collapsed into an oversided chair in the White House hallway. It suddenly struck her as odd, why would the chair even be there? But she discarded the thought. It was comfortable and she hadn't slept since Tuesday afternoon in the last White House press conference. Who cared that Schumer was going to give a speech? He was out of there. Jenna didn't have to worry about him again.
"Comfortable?" someone asked.
Jenna jumped. "Huh? What?" She looked around and saw the New York Times reporter, Bobby Towlhouse standing infront of her. She groaned. "What do you want, Bobby?"
"Where'd you get back from? Still following the Seaborn campaign around?"
"Austin," she said. "Wrote the entire article on the plane."
Bobby laughed. "You had to write an article? Doesn't the Annapolis Capital have better things to do with it's star reporter."
"Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere, Bobby boy," Jenna warned. "And I went because appearently the Capital thinks Seaborn is going to win."
Bobby laughed again. "You're a riot, Jenna. Seaborn has a shot but the odds are all pointing at Billings."
Jenna shrugged. "I'm voting Seaborn," she told him, starting to fall back into her sleepy stuper. "Now go away. This is the only time I have to sleep."
"Why don't you go home, Jenna?" Bobby asked her. "The Capital can send someone else. And what are you even doing here?"
"I don't know. Steve wanted to see me and he said to meet him here."
"Speak of the Devil," Bobby said as he walked away. "At three o'clock."
Jenna looked. Steven Paciorek was the chief editor for the Annaoplis Capital. "I didn't do anything wrong, Steve," Jenna called out to her boss.
"I never said you did," Steve responded.
"Then what is it?"
"Damn, Jenna. You look like crap," he commented.
"Thanks," Jenna retorted.
"Anyways... here." He handed her an envelope. "Seaborn likes you, Jenna. But I really want you to consider declining the offer. I don't want to lose you."
Jenna watched him walk off. Okay... she thought. What was that about?
"Ma'am?" a man in a suit came up to her. Behind him were a couple others in overalls with a dolly.
"Oh!" Jenna exclaimed and got up.
The Secret Service man nodded his thanks and motioned for the two men to get to work.
So much for the rest, Jenna groaned and walked out of the White House. She'd almost forgotten about the envelope she'd stuffed in her pocket by the time she'd gotten a cab. As the cab started up she remembered it and opened the envelope up. Inside was a folded piece of paper.
She read it and was surprised and somewhat annoyed. It was a hand written letter from Senator Seaborn requesting that she join his staff as Press Secretary if he was elected. A bit big headed isn't it? she though. Offering out jobs. But she was also somewhat flattered. She could be on the White House staff. But Steve had said to consider declining.
Jenna read the letter again. There was no date that she had to decide by. She looked down at the letter. Wow, she thought. But... would she except?
***
7:36 PM
"Why am I Secretary of Transportation?" Ronald Timmons asked his wife as they sat at the dinning room table eating. The kids were both spending the night at friends's houses so the two had some time alone.
"I don't know, dear," Sarah Timmons said. "Why are you?"
Ronald laughed. "I really don't know why. What do I know about Transportation?"
"You flew planes in the Navy for four years," Sarah reminded him.
"Why couldn't I have been Homeland Security then? I was in the War on Terror," he said. "Why couldn't I have been that?"
"Maybe you can be next President. Terror is still a threat, though I did like that Schumer built off the others and almost eradicated it..."
Ronald laughs. "If Seaborn wins maybe he'll give me that position," he said. "But from what the New York Times says, that probably isn't going to happen."
Sarah smiled at Ronald and took his hand. "You said you wanted to go back into Congress a few years back. If Billings is elected, you should try for it."
The front door burst open and admitted twelve year old Zachary Timmons. He shouted something about 'forgot my gameboy' and ran up the stairs.
"Maybe I should take a break for a few years," Ronald suggested. "Spend some time with you and the kids."
"That would be nice," Sarah said as Zachary ran back out the door. "They'd appreciate it. Zach anyways."
"Yeah," Ronald agreed. "Well, I guess it depends on wether or not our estimed Mr. Seaborn becomes our next President.
"Don't doubt him," Sarah said. "He just might. I think he will."
Ronald smiled. "Well, just for you, I'll vote for him then."
Sarah smiled. "What would your Republican friends think about that?"
"Half of them think Billings is a sap," Ronald answered. "They're all thinking about voting Seaborn, too. I just hope he doesn't disappoint us if he *is* elected."
"I think Senator McShane will keep him in line," Sarah responded. "She's a very determined woman. I'll bet she'll be going for the job after he finishes."
"She'd be the first," Ronald said. "And she clearly stated she didn't want to be a first."
"As I said about Seaborn, don't doubt her, Ron."
Ronald shook his head. "Come one, the news is on. Let's see how messed up the country is tonight."
***
A/N: My first West Wing based fic. What do you people think?