"Do you want to maybe close the door?
As I watch him carefully do so, I wish we weren't past the age where I could thump him against the wall and ask, "Are you completely out of your mind?"
A White House Deputy and a hooker… you might think it doesn't get worse than that, but I know Sam. Anyone else it would just be sex but Sam's got about as much sense about sex as, as, as… I don't know - a geeky thirteen year old walking around in a grownup suit! I mean, look at him now - any normal man would be either boasting about it or very sensibly hiding it in the interest of still having a job come morning. Instead, he's standing there all aglow with the noble ardour of a reformer. Poor girl probably doesn't want to be saved, but that's unlikely to stop the Lone Ranger over there. You know as a kid, I bet he used to drag home wildcats that didn't at all need rescuing. Lucky he didn't get rabies - no, what am I thinking! Shame he didn't get rabies because then I wouldn't be standing here wondering how I'm going to get out of the line of fire and wondering just whose line of fire I'm most afraid of. Toby? Leo? CJ? My mom, who seems to think that Sam is such a nice boy and that I should look out for him? (I've tried explaining the he's-no-longer-some-little-lost-Californian-intern, but you know - mothers.)
"… she's not what you think."
Oh no, Sam, she's exactly what I think - a disaster waiting to happen with you, my friend, rushing into it all eager-eyed and innocent. You'll be all indignation and surprise when you're splashed across the front page of the Washington Post.
It's not a quest? Nah, and I'm not a Democrat.
"You're playing with fire here," I tell him. I send him off to Toby then to see if he can shake some sense into his head, my poor, stupid, noble St George who doesn't understand that dragons don't always play fair.