Alix: I'm sorrier for Sam here, too, actually... :)
D'Arcy: No! There's no way that's going down in my world, lol. Except it's not my world, which reminds me:
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, nor any part of the West Wing.
Enjoy chapter 2...
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Sam
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It doesn't take long for the new guy to make an appearance.
In fact, he makes more of an entrance en grande, flinging the doors open and striding into the West Wing like it's property he recently inherited from what is undoubtedly an enormous trust fund.
Ellie's with him, but she's hovering back quietly, certainly not giving him a tour or anything.
I could be mistaken, but even the Secret Service agent escorting them looks annoyed.
Eyebrows already raised, I step out of my office, blocking the hallway as he comes around the corner, and sticking out my hand, "Sam Seaborn."
He stops, stares at me for about three beats too long, then puts out his hand like he'd really rather not. "Carson Payley."
Yeah, it's pretty much what I figured. Ten seconds in and I already want to deck this kid.
As soon as possible, he lets go of my hand like it's a hot potato. "Do you know where I can find Toby Ziegler?"
We're actually standing so close to Toby's office that he emerges just from hearing his name. He looks annoyed, as always.
"Carson Payley, meet Toby Ziegler. Toby, Ellie's boyfriend."
As they shake hands, Toby's eyebrows raise at me. I shrug discreetly. Ellie glares at both of us, reading our silent conversation easily.
"Nice to meet you."
"Hello, sir. I'm here about a job."
Toby's eyebrows go even higher. Her forehead looks like an accordion. "What job?"
"The one you're going to want to offer me after you read this." A resume appears like magic, and I almost snort, but hold it in. This kid's good. I mean, he's green as hell, he sounds like he got out of Personal Marketing 101 about five minutes ago, but he's got the act down in spades.
Unfortunately, he's taken way too big a bite of the apple. Toby looks at the resume like it's a used kleenex. "Huh. Well, I'm sure Ellie can show you where we accept entry-level applications downstairs. Nice to meet you."
He nods at Ellie, turns, and walks back into his office. I'm about to follow when Josh and Donna come around the corner. They're not bickering anymore; in fact, they're doing that thing where they walk with both of their heads bent to look over the same document, keeping up a clipped pace, something that I'm sure is going to one day lead to one of them falling down a manhole or a flight of stairs. Or in this case, just colliding with Ginger, who happens to be crossing the bullpen with a full pot of coffee.
Just as I'm about to intervene, Donna's sixth sense kicks in and she grabs Josh's arm and hits the brake. She looks like she's about to start scolding him, but catches sight of Ellie and stops, her mouth turning into a huge grin instead.
"Ellie?" She squeals, and Ellie smiles and looks like herself for the first time since she arrived as she and Donna tumble into a haphazard hug.
Then they're talking a mile a minute, cutting each other off and not caring.
"Your hair -"
"Two weeks ago. This coat -"
"On sale at Banana Republic."
"No makeup. You look like a scientist."
"Well, I'm trying."
"Have you -?"
"Oh yeah. You been to -?"
"Of course. We'll talk."
Josh and I are rolling our eyes good naturedly, as well as Leo, who's passing by, when all of a sudden the trust fund baby boyfriend speaks up out of nowhere.
"Jesus, Ellie, could you let your inner sorority slut take the backseat for a minute and introduce me?"
My mouth flies open, but Josh shakes his head and nods toward Leo, who's stopped in his tracks. He turns around and stalks back, and Josh and I instinctively shrink away from him, all too familiar with the expression he's wearing.
"Hey, kid," He says to Ellie, who manages a weak smile through her terror for her boyfriend.
Leo turns on him, looking a little reminiscent of Clint Eastwood in some badass Western. "What's your name, son?"
The kid knows he's stumbled into something over his head, but he's cocky until the last moment. "Carson Payley. Nice to meet you."
He sticks out his hand and Leo ignores it, saying nothing, until he draws it back slowly.
"How do you imagine the President would feel about you addressing his daughter that way? In the White House?"
"Addressing her -?"
"Maybe you want to reflect on your word choice. Respect for the Oval Office and all."
Even Carson Payley falters until Leo's flinty, blue eyed stare and swallows a little. "Uh, yeah, okay." He looks at Ellie, "We better go. We have dinner in -"
"Right." Ellie starts forward, looking relieved, but Leo grabs her wrist.
"How are you, hon?"
"Good, Leo."
"You sure?"
She gives him a hostile look usually reserved for the President. "Yes, Leo."
"How often does your boyfriend talk to you like he did just now?"
It's all I can do not to nudge Josh, but I know we'd both start giggling like schoolgirls.
"Leo, don't..." Ellie pleads, "We joke around, it's fine. Don't get all...y'know.."
Leo lets go of her hesitantly and steps back. "If you say so."
"I do. And we really have to go..."
"Come see me before you leave town."
Ellie glances at me quickly, then back at him. Apparently I'm the only one who knows she's staying here, but I keep my mouth shut.
"Sure." She grabs Carson's arm and starts leading him away. He follows without protest, looking a bit stunned.
There's brief silence, and Josh crosses his arms and leans against the wall. "Well, I don't like him."
"What's to like?" I agree.
"Why aren't you people working?" Leo demands, "This isn't happy hour."
"We were -"
"Leo, aren't you going to do something?" Donna interrupts, and everyone looks at her. She's hugging the binder in her arms tightly, her blue eyes big and worried.
"Don't worry about it, Donna, I'll take care of it."
"How?"'
I'm surprised. It's not like Donna to question anyone but Josh. Leo looks surprised, too, but he gives her a little pat on the arm. "I'm omnipotent in this place, you know that."
Donna relaxes a little and turns to Josh. "Meeting on the Hill in twenty."
She turns on her heel and walks away, and Josh and I migrate back to his office, grabbing a cup up coffee.
"So that's Ellie's new man." Josh looks at me carefully, and I concentrate on looking utterly nonchalant.
"Indigestion?" He asks. Apparently I've overdone it.
"No," I hedge, "Just wondering how she got duped into a relationship."
He raises an eyebrow. "He is rich, respectable, Ivy League caliber. What makes you suspect a duping?"
"Don't play debate with me. You know Ellie, that is not even in the ballpark of her type. That's the kind of shmuck she metaphorically beats up on the playground."
"Maybe he was overly obnoxious from being on his job mission."
"I doubt it."
"Well - "
"Josh." We look up, and Donna is standing in the doorway looking like she's about to explode. "Meeting. On the Hill. Now in eleven minutes."
"I'm going, Donna," He says, sounding for all the world like a teenager about to miss the bus.
"Go now, " she insists, "I am not going to field another call from Elaine Burkiss about how you should try to schedule meetings for when you actually plan to attend them. If you're late, I'm putting her through to you. And she's going to yell, Josh."
He scoffs, "Yeah, like I'm not used to that."
"If you've never met Elaine, I wouldn't be so flippant. On her off time, she wears flannel. And I'm pretty sure she outweighs you by thirty pounds."
Josh pauses, considering. "Yeah, okay." He swings his feet down from the desk and picks up his briefcase, heading for the door.
Donna waits until she's behind him to whip him in the back of the head with the folder they'd previously bickered over. He spins around and she slaps it to his chest, holding it there with one hand and muttering, "Third grade!"
When she's gone, Josh turns back to face me. "I've gotta run. Keep an eye on the brat. Let me know if he stages an uprising in the Oval."
I look at him haughtily. "As if I have nothing better to do than -"
Josh raises an eyebrow, and I stop. "Yeah, I'll let you know."
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Ellie
Just as I feared, Sam obviously sees right through Carson.
If he could just be slightly less astute, my life would be so much easier. Now I'm going to have to work my ass off to keep them apart, which is going to be difficult since Carson is about five minutes away from pitching a tent and camping out in the middle of the bullpen.
I keep racking my brain trying to figure out if I in any way led him on about the perks of dating the President's daughter, because for some reason he's convinced he's walking away from this visit with a job on Pennsylvania Avenue.
I can't even convey how much that is not a possibility. He's so young, such a bull in a china shop, and lacking about fifteen years of experience as a political operative. And any other person, any other day of the week, I'd just tell them that, no problem. But Carson is...intense. He's passionate and argumentative, which is undoubtedly why I was initially attracted to him. Plus, the boy's got a body.
There's something else, though. He doesn't argue like the people I know. He gets frustrated, irritated, and slams his hands into doorframes and against window panes. The last time he lost a debate, he put his foot straight throught the drywall of his apartment.
For all of my worldly wiles, I don't know how to handle that. My Dad does all his verbal sparring with humor and wordplay and trivia, even when he's pissed. He's not a violent man. I never learned how to deal with this.
Sometimes it's me.
He's squeezed my arms so hard that I had little fingerprint bruises for two weeks. Once, during an argument, he put the heel of his hand to my back so hard my knees buckled. He caught me and was whispering contritely in my ear before I even regained my breath.
It kept getting worse, but it wasn't a predominant part of our relationship. I mean, I'd been having my ass grabbed in dark corners since I was young. It didn't seem so strange.
Besides, I'm tough. It's important to me to be tough, and I hide things naturally. From my agents, my parents, my sisters...I handle things on my own, and I don't ask for help.
It's okay that way, but this time I'm in over my head and I know it. Carson is scaring me, and not asking for help means making up some ridiculous reason to get away from school, get away from him and come home for a while. I'm telling myself it's fine like this. I'm telling myself I can get away for a while and he'll forget all about me.
Maybe I'm right and maybe I'm not, but right now, all I want is to avoid a scene with him. Being around Sam after all this time already makes me nervous, and being around him with Carson in tow is making me a wreck.
I was freaked to see him today. Every time I spend ten minutes or more in his presence, I lose the ability to have normal conversations and have to expend all my energy controlling the urge to crawl into his arms and pretend it's just us in the room.
As much as I hate it, have always hated it, Sam Seaborn reads me like a children's book. One cautious look, one little jump, and he'll know instantly. I'm pretty convinced he already half knows. And he's not going to like it.
I've got to get this over with as quickly as possible.
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