Classification: Post-Ep for "Two Cathedrals"
Summary: "I get to be the permanent White House litmus test?
To see what will send me off, what will make me crack?"
***
It happened in a thunderous roar that obliterated the storm outside,
happened in a hail of
questions and gasps to rival the fury of nature, happened with the
flashing lights of a
hundred cameras blinding everyone to the possibility of failure.
"I will seek reelection."
Toby's arm ached from the pressure of Leo's hand.
"I will seek forgiveness from the American people for my transgressions against them."
He searched the crowd for a blonde and a redhead because Leo had been
worried that Donna
and Margaret might get injured in the melee after the press conference.
When he spotted
them he was amazed that they were glowing, incandescent from lightning
or flashbulbs or
the inner glow of elation.
"I will seek creative and effective ways to cut down the scourges of
our land - poverty,
ignorance, illness, and bigotry."
He spotted Charlie, who was standing alone, still as a statue, silent
tears pouring down
the face of a young man with an old soul.
"I will seek the finest legal and ethical minds in the country to determine
whether I am
to be considered worthy of your trust."
Toby disentangled his arm from Leo's fingers and watched his colleagues:
C.J., her
mercurial expression transforming from gloom to rapture, Josh, flashing
a brilliant smile
and pumping his fist in the air, and Sam, holding his hand over his
mouth as if to
restrain a joyous shout.
"I will seek the love of my family, the wisdom of those who counsel
me, and the grace of
God."
And so it happened.
Afterwards, Toby found himself half pushed, half carried by the surging
mass of people,
barely able to stay with the group that was headed to the motorcade.
Over the din he heard
Josh yelling for someone to get Margaret and Donna to one of the cars.
Still so paranoid,
but then it'd been just about a year to the day since his life had
been, literally, torn
apart. Josh could be forgiven.
So could the President.
Leo, on the other hand...
"So. I didn't need your damned lifeboat," he growled at the wet man
who shared the limo
seat with him. "And I sure as hell didn't need another test."
"Toby, it wasn't..."
"Don't bother, Leo."
The ride to the White House was cacophonous - sirens, rain, thunder,
lightning. But there
was no speech. Even if he had spoken, Toby wasn't sure that Leo would
be able to hear him
through this new barrier that separated them.
Toby exited through his door, Leo through the other, and they stood
on opposite sides of
the long, black car. Rain pelted them. It was hard, cold rain
for this late in the year,
slicing horizontally in the howling wind and rendering umbrellas useless.
There was
nothing to do but wait and get wet. To see what was next.
Sam was the first to clamber out of his limo, all arms and legs and
youthful energy. He
made an exaggerated bow and extended his hand to C.J. Toby heard her
laugh as she
extricated her long legs from the car. "God, Sam, at least wait until
you've had a beer or
something..."
"We are gonna be the emperors of all we survey!" Josh ran from his limo
and caught up with
them in a manic version of his happy strut. He draped one arm over
Sam's shoulders, using
his other hand to yank C.J. to his side. It was rough, brotherly affection.
Any other night it would have made him smile.
The Secret Service ushered them in as a unit, five people who usually
worked as closely
together as any humans could. And, as far as three of them knew, nothing
had changed.
C.J. caught sight of Leo and ducked Josh's embrace to throw her arms
around his waist.
"Oh, my God, did you know he was gonna do that? I didn't know he was
gonna do that. Did HE
know he was gonna do that?"
Leo ruffled her hair, looking over her shoulder at Toby. "I had an inkling, maybe."
"You could've told us," Josh whined, but he was grinning madly. "I mean,
we're not exactly
chopped liver."
"I prefer to be thought of as a good paté, although lately I've
been treated like last
week's fish," Toby heard himself say, and in a dark, secret part of
his heart he was glad
to see pain flashing in Leo's eyes.
"Hey." Josh's face fell. He went to Toby and clasped his shoulder. "Not
now," he
continued, cutting a glance at Sam's confused expression and C.J.'s
open mouth.
"I'm gonna..." Leo inclined his head in the direction of his office.
The four of them watched him, and not one word was spoken until Leo
was out of earshot. It
was Sam who broke the silence, walking up to Toby with his fists balled
on his hips. "What
the hell?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Toby muttered, running his hand over
his wet head. "And
I'm wet and I'm cold, for God's sakes, and why the hell am I standing
here, wet and cold,
when I could be in my office..."
"Wet and cold," Josh continued, holding out his own arms to show that
his jacket was
soaked through.
"Look, we're stuck with being wet and cold. Do we also have to be sober?"
C.J. asked in a
plaintive tone.
"You've got a good point," Josh said, and Toby could hear the false,
desperate note in his
voice. "C'mon, someone's got a secret supply, somewhere."
"Not me," said Sam. "We drank all mine last Saturday after we wrote
that stuff about the
NRA."
"I might have some wine," C.J. put in, but Sam interrupted.
"No, you don't, because we drank that, too."
"You are a pain in the ass, Sam, you know that?"
He stood on tiptoe and balanced with his hands on her shoulders. "Yeah,
but you love me
anyway."
"Go. Away." She gave him a gentle shove in the chest, laughing, but
when she saw Toby she
stopped. "Hey, Toby, let's go get something. Talk it out."
"I, uh, nah." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and
forefinger. "I never
opened that bottle of scotch Ed sent me for Christmas. It's in my office
and you're
welcome to it. But I've got work."
"What work?" Josh challenged.
He couldn't look at him, shrugging into his jacket and casting his eyes downward. "Stuff."
"Toby, we all got stuff, but tonight, just for one night, can we stop
acting like the
world's about to implode? C'mon, let's go." Josh's wheedling tone was
edged with anxiety,
and he plucked at Toby's sleeve like a child asking for candy. "C'mon.
One drink. Toby.
Toby."
He could no more refuse Josh than he could kick a stray puppy. "I suppose
the affairs of
state can wait for, what, an hour?"
"Good." C.J. linked her arm through his and he felt a frisson pass between
them as they
led Sam and Josh to Toby's office. Someday he'd have to deal with that
electricity, along
with the seventeen thousand other things that had been demanding a
segment of his brain
for the last few years.
The procession to Toby's office and downstairs was silent, except for
Sam's approving
whistle when he saw the label on the bottle of scotch. Even though
the mess was deserted,
they still piled into their usual booth in the corner after filling
their glasses with
ice.
"You know, this is like a ceremony," Josh said as he elbowed Sam and
motioned for him to
scoot over. "We always sit like this. You and me on one side, Toby
and C.J. on the other."
"It's meaningful," Sam said. "See how she wants to sit opposite me instead
of stretching
her legs on the outside of the booth? It's because of my rakish charm."
"No, you just have the shortest legs and that leaves me more room."
"Cold, C.J. You are a cold and heartless woman."
"Don't forget wet," she said, opening the bottle with a flourish.
Toby squirmed in his seat, tapping his fingers on top of the table.
"Look, I'm not gonna
be able to contribute anything positive to this evening. I'm gonna
go, okay?"
"We just got here!" protested C.J. "You can't leave yet!"
"I just..." He started to get up, but Josh restrained him with a hand on his arm.
"Sit for a while, have a couple glasses. You don't have to talk if you
don't want to to,
but if you leave, then we'll leave too because we're worried, and we'll
be pissed that you
screwed up our night, and then you'll REALLY have something to worry
about because you
know that we'll hunt you down and find particularly humiliating ways
to get even with
you."
Toby's dark eyes glinted and he huffed into his beard. "Don't you ever breathe, Josh?"
"What's today, Wednesday? Nope. I won't breathe again until tomorrow."
"And I'm not breathing until you tell Sam and me what happened, Toby,
so..." C.J. turned
in her seat, her sodden jacket squeaking against the leather.
"I got an offer today." Toby's voice was low, a distant rumble of thunder.
Sam whipped his head around to look first at Toby, then at Josh. "What kind of offer?"
"An apple from a serpent."
"Toby," C.J. groaned, "I have had, maybe, three hours' sleep since I
found out about the
thing..."
"You know, C.J., the whole world knows about it now and we're allowed
to call it by
name..."
"...and I am completely out of the mood for cryptic conversations!"
"Greg Summer-Hayes offered Toby a job as news director for a new cable
network," Josh
supplied into the sudden void, his neutral voice belied by the tremor
of his hand as he
poured a glass of scotch for himself.
"My God." Sam's mouth opened and shut a few times. "That's...that's..."
"A setup. Leo arranged it to see what I'd do. To see if I'd take it.
Jump ship." He
glanced at each one of them. "So. Who's gonna ask?"
"We don't need to, Toby," Sam said. "We all know that you would never
leave this
administration."
He relaxed a little, closing his eyes and running his fingers through
his beard. "Okay.
Well."
C.J. cocked her head to one side. "Toby, you really think this was a setup?"
"Yes, I do. And it's not the usual paranoiac ravings of Toby Ziegler
- I followed up on my
hunch. I asked Leo. He confirmed it."
Sam shook his head. "I can't believe that Leo, of all people, would..."
"Sam, you can't believe that Leo could take a dump. I know how you work,
moving from
father figure to father figure, looking for someone who won't disappoint
you, and right
now it's Leo. You're so damn naive, it makes my teeth hurt."
Toby could hear a murmur of thunder in the distance, or it might have been his heartbeat.
"Yeah." Sam blinked, staring at some remote point just over C.J.'s head,
his lips
compressed. "Yeah. Josh, excuse me." Sam started to push Josh aside
so he could get up,
but Josh shook his head and refused to move.
"No. No no no no. We're not gonna do this." Josh slammed his fist on
the table, rattling
the glasses. "We've been so stressed out and exhausted that the first
reaction we have is
to turn on each other, and I will not allow that to happen." He ran
his hands through the
damp waves of his hair. "We thought it was all over after tonight,
that there wasn't any
future for us, but now - we've got a campaign to run..."
"...a grand jury to face..." Toby added.
"And you know what?" Sam replied, 'I can face them. I can face whatever
grand jury,
congressional committee, judiciary committee, whatever they throw at
me. And you know why,
Toby? Because I am a member of the senior staff that serves the best
president to grace
the White House in the last fifty years."
"That's a lovely sentiment, but you have to remember that he lied, Sam.
He could very well
be impeached and have to resign."
"Yeah, and he could very well be so damn impressive that he lives through
it and runs, and
wins. We can do it. But you have to stay with us."
"I wonder how you'll feel after someone makes you an offer no right-thinking
left-wing
spokesperson could reasonably refuse."
"I'd feel the same way you did. Betrayed. Hurt." Toby flinched as Sam
directed the full
two hundred watts of his blue-eyed gaze on him. "You were the first
of us to know, Toby.
You were the one they trusted before any of the rest of us. That's
gotta mean something."
Toby couldn't look Sam in the eye, couldn't bear the laser-bright scrutiny.
He took a long
swallow of the scotch before setting the glass on the table, watching
the droplets of
condensation make their silent track down the sides. "It means nothing."
"It should mean everything."
Leo's voice shook Toby to the core.
"Hey, Leo, we thought you were, uh..." Sam jerked his chin upwards.
"Yeah. I was. But I figured you four would need to talk and I figured
where you'd be." He
put his hand on a nearby chair. "Mind if I join you?"
Josh's voice was soft. "Leo."
"At the table, Josh. I'm not gonna drink."
"Yeah. I, uh, knew that."
The chair legs scraped across the floor as Leo took a seat at the head
of the table. "I
don't have to ask what you've been talking about. I do have to ask
if anyone here has a
question for me."
C.J. swirled the drink around with her finger. "I think we understand
why you did it, Leo.
We maybe don't agree with you, but we understand."
"Thank you, C.J. Sam? Josh? Questions?"
They shook their heads.
"Toby?"
He drew in a breath as he rubbed his fingers against his temples. "I'm
the only person
sitting at this table, the only member of the senior staff, who wasn't
the President's
first choice. I'm the kid who got picked last, Leo, and I gotta tell
you that it does not
make me feel good. Even under the best of circumstances."
"Toby, you have done an outstanding job from day one. Everyone appreciates
that. He does,
too."
"Well, the two of you have a damn strange way of showing it." He elbowed
his way past Leo
and Josh, standing up and pacing the room like a caged bear. His heart
thundered in his
chest and he tasted something like blood in his mouth. Fight or flight,
words pouring out
of him like rain.
"You came to me to get an honest reaction about the M.S. having been
hidden. Did I not
give it to you? Along with, may I add, some pretty damn sage advice
about getting in touch
with lawyers before the shit hit the fan?"
"You did," Leo said in a low, even tone. Toby could see him turning
to Sam and Josh with a
warning finger to his lips.
"Did I not get up from the most horrible, most surreal meeting in the
world and go right
into a speech session where I came up with jokes funny enough to make
the President look
like a wit in front of correspondents from every major and minor syndication
in the
country?"
"Yes, you did. No one's disputing that. But your reaction was so..."
"Normal. It was a normal reaction. You wanted a worst-case scenario,
you got it." He
stopped pacing and stood over Leo, looking down on him. "So because
of that, I get to be
the permanent White House litmus test? To see what will send me off,
what will make me
crack? Why me? Why not you? You've got a history. Why not Josh, who
is certifiably
nuts...?"
"Toby, stop it!" C.J. shouted.
Josh shrugged, but his shoulders hunched as if warding off a blow. "I'm
sure he meant that
in a completely affectionate way. I'd say that I don't have to stand
for this, but...I
don't. So I'm sitting."
Toby hated that look, the one that said he'd managed to find the one
soft spot in Josh's
shell and stick a machete through it. The only thing he hated worse
was when C.J. regarded
him with bleary-eyed contempt, the way she did now. Compounded by the
earlier pain he'd
inflicted on Sam, who now rested his forehead on his folded arms, it
was too much. He just
stood there with his head bowed, clasping and unclasping his hands.
Leo's voice was soft, compassionate. "Anyone ever tell you what Toby's
secret service code
name is?" he asked no one in particular.
The silence was eerie. Toby could hear nothing but his own erratic breathing.
"It's Oscar," Leo continued. "Like the grouch."
"Hey. Sam. Toby's a Muppet," Josh whispered, not without rancor, and
Toby was glad to see
Sam raise his head and crack a smile.
"I am not," Toby denied, grimacing at Leo. "We weren't supposed to mention that. Ever."
"And don't you dare laugh, Josh. Or should I say," and here, Leo's eyes
narrowed although
he was smiling, 'Motormouth.'"
"You're kidding," Sam said, his lips trembling with the effort not to
laugh.
"Motormouth?"
"They wanted to call him 'Butthead,' but I said no," Leo smirked.
"Yeah, that's right. Mock away, my comrades." Josh folded his arms across
his chest.
"Besides, it was changed." Toby saw something sad in the dark brown
of Josh's eyes,
something heavy and distant. "They changed it after the thing. In Rosslyn."
"I didn't know that," Toby said softly. "What are you now?"
Josh just shook his head, looking downward. It was Leo who answered
the question,
regarding Toby with those keen, intelligent eyes.
"He's 'Phoenix.'"
Toby watched as C.J. reached across the table and took Josh's hand in
hers. She looked
from Josh, then to Sam and Leo, and finally to Toby, and she gave him
a gentle smile. "I
think there's a metaphor in there, guys."
"It's us," Sam said. "I'm about to make an idealistic speech, Toby,
so don't clench your
teeth."
"I'm sorry, Sam."
"Shut up and let me be naive." He flashed a grin at Toby, his almost-all-is-forgiven
smile, and Toby felt the muscles in his neck begin to relax. "We're
all the Phoenix
tonight. Going over to the State Department, we thought we were about
to go down in flames
- and who knows, we still might. But tonight, in ways we can't yet
understand, we've risen
from the ashes and we're spreading our wings. And just for a little
while, Toby, we're
gonna fly."
As he looked at his deputy, Toby was, grateful that his beard gave him
such a fierce
affect when in truth he just wanted to grab the man and hug him. Instead,
he wrinkled his
forehead. "My teeth hurt."
Sam threw an ice cube at him.
"Boys, boys," Leo chuckled, holding his hands up in the air. "I just
want to leave you
with something, okay? May I leave you with something?" He waited until
all four of them
were paying attention, then he continued.
"After Mrs. Landingham's service, the President asked for a few minutes
alone. The Secret
Service was locking down the building but they weren't finished with
closing all the doors
when the President started to talk. I heard a little of what he said."
Leo looked at Josh.
"He was complaining to God about what happened to you, asked if it
was a warning shot for
what was to come. He called you his son."
Josh's eyelids slid shut. Toby could see a thick tear shimmering on his lower lashes.
"Not just him. You're all his sons," Leo whispered.
C.J. looked down at her chest. "Oh. Great."
"I mean that in a completely non-sexist, metaphorical way."
"Of course." She squeezed Josh's hand and he gulped for air while Sam patted his shoulder.
Leo continued. "He may, once in a while, seem to take you for granted.
He may not praise
you enough for the things you do well, and may punish you more than
you think is fair when
you screw up. But he does love you, each and every one of you. And
he thinks the world of
you." He took a deep breath. "Jed Bartlet was my best friend for years
before he became my
boss. He had faith in me when I had no reason to have faith in myself.
And because of
that, I protect him, sometimes beyond normal reason. That's what happened
with Gregg
Summer-Hayes, Toby, and I'm not gonna apologize for it."
"I didn't expect you to," Toby said, but his heart's burden was lessened nonetheless.
"God forbid that someday, you might have to face a situation like this,
where someone you
care about might be in a position to hurt Sam, or C.J., or Josh. Wouldn't
you do what I
did?"
"I'd like to think I wouldn't," Toby said slowly. "But..." He spread
his hands out in the
air. "I don't know. I've been a stepchild in this administration since
the beginning, Leo.
I've been the prodigal son all this time. And it hurts."
"But when the prodigal son returned, his father rejoiced," Leo stated.
Sam chose this moment to rejoin the conversation. "I always wondered
if the non-prodigal
brothers..."
"...and sisters, maybe," C.J. added.
"...felt that somehow they got screwed in the deal."
Leo rose, walking over to Toby and putting his hand on Toby's shoulder.
"If I stand here,
right now, and tell Toby how much I value him, will you feel that way?"
Sam's mouth formed the word 'no' but nothing came out. C.J. shook her head.
They all looked over at Josh.
"Don't look at me." His voice dripped acid. "I'm 'certifiably nuts,'
so my opinion isn't
worth much."
"Josh." Toby squeezed his eyes shut, his whole body aching as he remembered
the horror of
finding Josh with blood pouring from his chest. He could still feel
the hot, sticky blood
on his hands, and in his nightmares he still heard himself crying out
for help. "I'm...I
don't..."
"It's okay," Josh murmured, glancing up from his hands to Toby's face
and back down again.
"It's, you know, okay."
Toby knew their tempers: Sam's bright, quick flare that was spent all
too quickly, C.J.'s
slow burn that could peel paint off the walls for a week before she
got over it. He knew
the way Josh had been, before, when he'd sulk, yell at Donna, apologize
to Donna, and be
able to laugh at himself within an hour. It was the new Josh that Toby
couldn't
comprehend.
"It's not okay. I'm an asshole. A self-righteous, bellowing asshole."
"Don't stop - you're on a roll," Josh drawled, but at last his smile reached his eyes.
"You guys aren't gonna, I dunno, hug or something are you?" Sam asked
plaintively, waving
his hands for emphasis.
"Nope." Toby unfolded his arms and headed for the stairs. "I'm going
back to my office to
make miracles happen, starting with keeping Josiah Bartlet in office
for another four
years." He smiled, showing a flash of white teeth, and was gratified
to see the others
smiling back. He put one hand on the bannister and pointed upward with
the other. "I'm
gonna dust off the ashes and fly, Sam."
It happened in a flash of rare good humor, the kind only his closest
friends saw, the ones
who waved at him as he took the stairs two at a time.
***
End
***
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