Title: Cookies
Series: Food Diaries
Author: BrusselsSprout
Pair/Rating: PG
Spoilers: does it matter at this point?
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing.

Author Notes: This story was inspired by the cookie jar on Mrs Landingham's desk. I'm pretty sure they are yummy chocolate chip oat cookies.

'Cookies, yay!' they scream in unison as they run in from the garden, looking like they have just wrestled in the mud.

'Come on boys, wash your hands, and you can have some.'

'Ok, mum.' They scurry off to wash their hands, and reappear marginally cleaner. Two pairs of identical eyes follow her moves as she takes out some plates and pulls out the fresh cookies from the oven. This is how she always wanted her home, filled with laughter and with the smell of cookies.

After that terrible Christmas, she doesn't bake anymore. It is just all too painful. More than a decade goes by in frozen silence and when her husband dies, she thinks whether her life should be over as well, and whether she has just been forgotten here. In any case, she doesn't want to give in to desperation. She still wants to make her boys proud. When she reads that a certain Congressman from New Hampshire is looking for an assistant, she thinks that maybe there was a reason after all, maybe there is something else she's supposed to do here. She dials the phone.

'Congressman Bartlet!'

'Hello, Dolores!'

'It's Mrs. Landingham, please. Are you looking for an assistant, Congressman?'

'You could use some punctuation anytime now. Argh, this is really not going anywhere.' sighs Toby. 'You know what we need?'

'Some punctuation?'

'No, Sam. You need punctuation and quite possibly handcuffs from the alliteration police! We need some pie. Maybe some cake.'

'I've got some M&Ms.'

'M&Ms? Who gets inspired by M&Ms, Sam? Did Proust eat some M&Ms and wrote a masterpiece?'

'No, he ate madeleines, Toby, but he was also French.'

'Yes, but that's not the point. The point is that he had madeleines. Do you think he could have written In Search of Lost Time munching on M&Ms?'

'But it is the point, Toby. .. I'm not sure M&Ms were all that readily available in 19th century France.'

'Sam, what I'm saying is that I really do need some pie.'

'Fine, I'll look around to see what I can find, but mind you it's 1 a.m. and I don't think anyone is here but us. And if I had a choice, I wouldn't be here either.'

He wonders the empty offices of the campaign headquarters until he sees light in the Governor's office.

'Good evening, Mrs Landingham!'

'Good evening, Sam. Working late tonight?'

'We have to finish the Governor's speech for tomorrow, but Toby claims he is not inspired, unless I find some pie for him. Do you happen to know where I could get some?'

'At this hour? Maybe you can find some sweets in the automatic distributors, Sam.'

'I've already suggested that, Mrs Landingham. I think what he craves is a taste of home.' Sam adds.

'Well, good luck, dear.'

She likes these boys; Toby, Sam and Josh, their laughter and loud behavior remind her of Andrew and Simon. They tease her gently and since the campaign started, she feels like she's part of a family again. She especially has a soft spot for Toby. He's the same age as her boys would be now and he is a staunch defender of veterans. An idea surfaces, she hurries home, and quickly puts together the dough for some chocolate-chip cookies. She is surprised when baking is not painful, but rather comforting. She's back in the office an hour and a half later, bearing a box of warm, delicious smelling cookies. She finds Sam and Toby, still hunched over the computer, bickering about a line on energy policy.

'Hello, boys'

'Mrs Landingham!' they both look up surprised.

'Toby, I heard that you were looking for some pies. Now, pies take longer time to make, but I brought some cookies, maybe they'll help you out.'

'Thank you, Mrs Landingham. You really shouldn't have…'

'We all do what we can' she cuts him off. 'Now I'm expecting this to be the best speech of the campaign, otherwise there won't be any more cookies tomorrow. Don't stay up late, boys. Good night.'

The next day, when Governor Bartlet doesn't find even one word he can change in the speech, he looks at Toby surprised. 'So what's the secret?'

'It's mostly Mrs Landingham's contribution, sir.' Toby replies mysteriously. 'She came back with the cookies.'

'Must have been quite the treat, Toby.' smiles the Governor.

The next day, she finds a wrapped gift on her table. It is a beautiful crystal cookie jar. She smiles and realizes that families come in all shapes and forms. She makes sure that the cookie jar is never empty. She thinks of it as her contribution to the brilliance of the kids.

After the funeral, they sit back in the makeshift war room, arguing about strategies on how to break the news of the President's MS and its political ramifications. There is a gloom over the room. They are snapping at each other, feeling frustrated, like they are backed into a corner.

'We need something' says Toby and leaves the room abruptly. He comes back in a few minutes, carrying the crystal cookie jar, filled with her last contribution, the last batch of cookies.