CJ curled up on the couch in her office with a stack of reports and a cup of coffee. The door to her office was open, and occasionally she heard the sound of laughter as her staff and a few reporters enjoyed the quiet of late Saturday morning. She looked up at the sound of footsteps.
"Good morning, Mrs. Landingham," she said as the President's secretary appeared in her doorway, looking almost unfamiliar in slacks and a sweater set instead of a suit. "Carol isn't in today. Is there something I can help you with?"
Mrs. Landingham smiled. "No, dear. I came in to finish up a few things and thought I'd take a walk. This week was so busy that I didn't get away from my desk at all."
CJ nodded. "It's nice to get things out of the way before Monday, isn't it?" She put her hand on the pile of reports. "That's what I'm doing."
"CJ, may I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Has anyone spoken to Sam since he..." She paused. "...went on vacation?"
"Mrs. Landingham —" CJ began.
"Dear, I may not officially know what's happened, but I can guess. I told Josh as much two weeks ago. So, that being said, has anyone spoken to Sam this week?"
"No, we haven't. I had an email from him a few days ago, and he said he'd try to call, but he hasn't yet."
"I see."
"Mrs. Landingham..." CJ's voice trailed off.
"What, dear?"
"You've worked at a boys' school and then the President since, well, forever. You were married and raised two sons."
Mrs. Landingham nodded, seeing where this was going long before CJ finished. "I've been surrounded by men — and boys, for that matter — for most of my life, much like you."
"What do you think? Are we doing the right thing? Letting Sam go, I mean."
Mrs. Landingham clasped her hands together. "I keep thinking about the last time I saw him, the night he dropped off the speech for the President. I know I surprised him, but CJ, that wasn't a Sam I knew. He was worn down to a point where I almost didn't recognize him. I don't think you had a choice. He had to leave." She frowned gently. "In all the years I was Dr. Bartlet's secretary and with all the boys I met, I've never known anyone quite like Sam. Heaven knows he's smart, but he's also passionate about what he believes in, and quick to defend what he feels is right and the people he loves. In the same breath, though, he's gentle and funny, and just a little insecure about himself and his place in the grand scheme of things."
"And?"
"I think he's lost his sense of belonging, and if he finds it by going home..." She shrugged. "So much the better."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then come up with a way to help him. You're all very intelligent people, and you care for him. He knows that down deep. Find a way to bring him back to us without losing himself or his pride."
"Men and their pride," CJ murmured.
"Men and their pride," Mrs. Landingham repeated. "Now I've taken up enough of your time, dear. Have a good weekend."
"Thank you, Mrs. Landingham. You, too."
CJ dropped her head onto the back of the couch. Was she right? Did Sam know how much they all cared for him? And if he didn't, how could they convince him?
"Hey," Danny said, lounging against the doorjamb.
She took off her reading glasses. "What are you doing here? You don't usually come in on the weekend."
"I do if I have notes to type up."
"You've got a Pulitzer, but you don't have a computer at home," CJ said slowly.
"Yeah, it's funny how that works, isn't it?"
"What do you want, Danny?"
He held up his notepad. "Ask me in, CJ."
She weighed it for a moment.
"I'm not kidding. I have some notes you'll be interested in."
"Really?"
"Trust me."
She raised her eyebrows. "If I had a dime for —"
"Good enough," Danny said, dropping into one of the guest chairs and angling it so he faced her.
"All right, what's so interesting?"
"Well, I did some asking around about the guy Sam mentioned —"
CJ shook her head. "We know who he is. His name's Jeff Malloy, and he's —"
"Boasting to certain reporters that he's about to land a White House senior staffer for his firm."
The report CJ had been reading hit the floor. "What?" she demanded.
Danny grinned. "Now do you want to hear the whole story?"
"What whole story?" Josh asked from the doorway, glancing up from the memo he was reading.
"Get in here!" CJ told him.
Josh looked from CJ to Danny and back before dropping onto the arm of the couch.
"I did some research into the law firms handling the big wild-life and environmental groups — Sierra Club, Nature Conservancy, Environmental Defense Fund — and found out there was one firm in Washington doing most of the work."
"Beckman-Casey," Josh supplied.
"Yeah. Anyway, I asked around at the paper about them. Turned out a guy I know had done an article on one of their clients. He made a couple of calls and got me a sit-down with Jeff Malloy."
"But you don't cover environmental issues," CJ cut in.
"Yes, but I do cover the White House and that pretty much gets me in where I want. Anyway, I told Jeff that I was thinking of doing a piece on the Bartlet Administration's record on the environment. He was more than happy to cooperate." Danny looked at them both. "He had plenty to say about what you guys haven't done."
Josh sighed. "Yeah, like that's a surprise."
"But at the end, he mentioned Sam and how they'd gone to Duke together. I asked him if they'd kept in touch. Malloy kinda smiled and said he'd spoken to him recently, and that Sam shared his concerns. I told him I wasn't surprised because I know Sam is interested in the environment. It was like I'd said the magic word. Malloy told me that, while he couldn't say anything on the record, he was reasonably certain Sam would be leaving the White House for the private sector before long."
"So they're talking," CJ said, taking a sip of her now cold coffee. Making a face, she put it down.
"But nothing's set," Josh hurried to add. He looked at Danny. "What's this guy like?"
Danny shrugged. "He's dedicated, I'll give him that."
"No, I mean can you see Sam working with him?"
"Josh, I think Sam can work with just about anybody. Malloy's a little driven, but Sam's got a lot of experience dealing with guys like him."
"Yeah, but would he enjoy it?"
"You think he was enjoying the White House?" Danny countered.
Josh's eyes were steady. "I think he was. Maybe not the last couple of months, but before that, yeah."
Danny nodded. "Well, Beckman-Casey didn't seem like a-laugh-a-minute kind of place. I don't have much experience with law firms, but it hit me as intense. I couldn't see Sam there."
CJ looked at Josh. "You went to Gage Whitney, right? What was that like?"
"Well, I was distracted when I was there the first time and kinda soaked the second, but it was like what Danny's describing — serious people doing serious things. Sam was miserable."
"I wonder if he knows what he'd be getting himself into," CJ mused.
Danny slipped his notepad into his shirt pocket. "I wonder if he cares."
"Josh, there you are!" the President exclaimed from the hall. "I've been looking for you."
"Good morning, Mr. President. What can I do for you?" Josh said as they all rose to their feet.
"Good morning, CJ. Danny, what are you doing here on a Saturday?"
"A little quid pro quoi, sir."
The President rocked back and forth, rubbing his hands together. "Really? In what way?"
"He found out some information on Beckman-Casey, sir," Josh supplied.
"The firm that's wooing Sam?"
"Yes, sir."
"And what would you ask in return? Dinner with our fair Press Secretary?"
CJ frowned. "Sir, I —"
The President held up his hand, and she fell silent, seething as Danny grinned at her. "Was this information helpful, Claudia Jean?"
"Yes, sir but —"
"Was it something we didn't know? Something only Danny here could supply?"
"Or any other reporter in a two-block radius," she muttered.
"Danny, have I — or any member of my staff — mentioned how much we appreciate you sitting on this situation with Sam?"
Danny's grin grew wider. "No, sir. Not that I expected thanks, of course."
"But you still went out of your way to find out more?" The President smiled, and CJ felt her heart sink. "Then quid pro quoi it shall be."
"Forgive me, sir, but I don't think you can order me to have dinner with him."
"Quid pro quoi, CJ, from the Latin meaning 'something for something'."
"Yes, sir." And once again, CJ remembered why she had dropped Latin after half a semester in high school — she hated it.
"Josh, walk with me," the President ordered, and Josh followed him out. As they disappeared out of sight, the President's voice carried back to them. "Did you know that, during Medieval Times, a king would send one of his most trusted knights to negotiate..."
CJ turned to Danny. "All right, what time?"
"What time?"
"Dinner. What time?"
"Oh, that," he said. "Our reservation is for half past eight, so I'll be by to pick you up at eight. Wear something...red. I like you in red."
"Where are we going?"
He leaned close enough to whisper the name of the restaurant. She smiled, catching hold of the front of his jacket and giving him a fast, hard kiss.
"Eight o'clock, then," she whispered back, letting him go. "And, Danny?"
He turned back from the door, raising an eyebrow.
"Quid pro quoi."
