Ira Furor Brevis Est by Ecri
See part one for disclaimer.
Friday
Sam got to work by 5:00 AM. He hadn't been able to get any sleep. The possibility that he could, conceivably, lose his job, had made the thought of sleep impossible.
The White House Deputy Communications Director intended to use the peace of the nearly deserted White House to regroup. He'd put his night of insomnia to good use. He had a game plan.
His anger tinged the depression. Sure, it wasn't completely gone, but it wasn't all consuming, either. He didn't have time for it. He allowed his anger at Kevin and himself to insulate him from the other things he'd been feeling. He would use this to his advantage. Regardless of what he had promised Hoynes, he had made some decisions last night. He was ready to make some changes just as soon as he found out if he still had a job.
**
Sam didn't have to wait long for Leo to arrive. The Chief of Staff had a tendency to get to work before 6:00 AM. By 6:15, he was at his desk going through his calendar for the day. As soon as Sam was sure he'd had a moment to put down his briefcase and settle in, he stopped by Leo's office. He wanted to head this off instead of sitting in his office waiting for a summons.
"Leo, do you have a minute?" Sam stepped inside the office.
Leo looked up, slightly surprised that anyone was dropping by his office already, and even more surprised that it was Sam. "Come in, Sam."
"Leo, I know this thing with the tape is bad, and I take full responsibility. If you want me to fall on my sword, say the word. I'll make any kind of public statement that you want. I will make sure the President is blameless. If you want me to resign, I'll have my resignation on the President's desk within the hour"
"Settle down, Sam. It hasn't gotten that far."
Sam wasn't sure just what that meant. He didn't know what else to say, so he stood waiting in Leo's office, his gaze never straying from Leo's eyes.
Leo sat back in his chair, looking up at Sam standing in front of him. It was the look in Sam's eyes he hadn't expected. He'd thought Sam would be sullen, morose, quiet. He thought Sam would look hurt or repentant orlike a kicked puppy. Like he had looked in the months following the MS revelation. Sam was none of those things
As Leo watched, wondering what he should say, Sam found his voice. "Leo, this is bad. I know it. We all know it. I wanted you to know that I know–that I understand. It ends now. I won't misjudge my enemies again."
"Okay, Sam." Leo waited a moment. "Anything else?"
"No."
Leo nodded. "Get to work."
Leo stared at the door after Sam left. The Chief of Staff pondered the exchange he had just had with the Deputy Communications Director. Sam was usually an open book. Even when he'd lost it during the MS thing, Sam had, true to character, been defending CJ. Sure, his little comment had included himself, and had been directed at the man among the Senior Staff who'd known about the scandal for the longest time, but his comment had been a defense of someone he considered vulnerable at the moment. Sam had been hurt, and he knew, or imagined he knew, how CJ had felt. It was likely that, had CJ never needed defending, Sam never would have made his remark.
He was a little surprised by Sam's choice of words. Enemies. He'd said he wouldn't misjudge his enemies, not his friends. Leo knew Sam was beating himself up about this, or at least he knew that was what he expected Sam to be doing. It was, after all, what Sam usually did.
Now, however, Leo was baffled. He couldn't read Sam at all. Leo frowned and recalled the look in the young man's eyes. The depression and anxiety that Sam seemed to have been carrying around with him for the better part of a year weren't entirely gone, but they were subdued. First and foremost, Sam looked angry.
He considered what he knew about Sam's personality, and a slow smile spread across his face. In his mind, he saw an image from some old cartoon. Leo chuckled to himself contemplating a Sam Seaborn shaped hole in the wall as he went back to work.
**
Toby tried to hide his concern for his deputy behind his usual morning ritual. He had almost sacrificed the steaming cup of coffee from Starbuck's in the interest of getting to the office that much sooner, but he hadn't wanted to show up at the office without it. He was never sure what minor details of his boss' routine Sam would choose to notice.
He settled his briefcase and coffee on his desk and headed to Sam's office thinking he would use his concern about the opening remarks for the President's upcoming Teacher's Union speech as a reason to speak to his deputy.
Seeing Sam's door closed surprised him. He didn't think Sam had closed his office door more than once or twice in the entire time they'd been in the White House. He paused not sure what to do. On an impulse, he knocked, feeling strangely out of place for doing it.
He heard no response at first, and just as he raised his hand to knock again, Sam's voice called out to him. "Come in."
"Sam"
"Good morning, Toby. Did you need something?"
Toby stared at Sam thinking how surreal this seemed. "The teacher's union speech"
"I just printed the latest draft. When you have time, we should go over it."
"Yeah." He paused not wanting to bring this up, but sure he had to do it. "Listen, Sam, I spoke to Bruno last night" To the casual observer, Sam seemed not to react, but Toby saw the slight tensing of his shoulders, the negligible intake of breath, and the infinitesimal tilt of his chin.
Toby cleared his throat and began again. "I know you know you made a mistake. We won't discuss it any more than that. Ididn't want you sitting in here waiting for me to say something I have no intention of saying. It's over. Don't worry about Kevin Khan."
Sam blinked in surprise, covering his reaction to Kevin's name, but Toby had seen it, and it pleased him no end.
Toby went back to his office promising Sam they'd meet in an hour to discuss the teacher's union speech. He settled down to work secure in the knowledge that Sam Seaborn was angry. Not hurt. Not despondent. Angry. Their chances at winning this election had just improved dramatically.
**
Josh walked towards Sam's office considering the conversation he'd just had with the Vice President. Hoynes had left a message for him, and, when he'd returned it, he'd been astonished that his former boss wanted to talk to him about Sam Seaborn.
John Hoynes had decided that Josh needed to know what had happened the previous evening. He explained it as succinctly as he could trusting that Josh would find a way to help the Deputy Communications Director.
"He was just standing there in the rain?" Josh asked a second time even though he'd heard all of the details already.
"Yes, Josh. He's in a bad place, isn't he?"
"Wouldn't you be?"
"I suppose so. Look, his language was a little" Hoynes wasn't sure how to put this. "He speaks colorfully."
Josh laughed. "Yeah. He does. Colorfully, poetically" something clicked in Josh's head. "Why? What did he say?"
Hoynes explained about the noose comment. "It's probably nothing." He tried to sound reassuring, but doubted his success.
"Have you been asked about it?"
"The video?"
"Yeah."
"I've been asked. I said that as far as I knew, Seaborn was being above board."
"Thank you, Mr. Vice President."
"Josh, don't let him fall too far for this."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Now, as Josh neared Sam's office, he was surprised to find the door closed. He hesitated as a cold lump formed in the pit of his stomach. Taking a deep breath, he knocked, heard a muffled "Come in," and entered to find his friend typing furiously on his laptop.
"Hey."
"What do you need?"
"I wanted to see if you were okay."
Sam made a noise that could have been a sigh or a snort and went back to typing.
"Soare you?"
"I'm busy, Josh."
"If you need"
"I don't."
Josh knew that Sam wanted him to leave, but he couldn't do that. "Sam, I'm your friend. Let me help."
Sam looked up at him, then, and Josh saw fire in his eyes, and anger in his soul. "You're my friend? Josh, we've barely spoken to each other except about work for months! If that's because I didn't noticeI didn't help you last Christmas"
"Sam, what are you saying?" Josh was horrified at Sam's train of thought.
"I was your friend, Josh. I didn't help you when I should have. Of course, you were my friend, too, and you didn't come to me for help."
"That's not"
"Tom Jordan was my friend, and I left him out to dry." He shouted at Josh, his emotions tingeing his words and imbuing them with more meaning than Josh would have thought possible.
"You didn'tTom wasn't"
"Kevin was my friend." Sam looked down, briefly, then snapped his eyes up to latch desperately onto Josh's. When he spoke again, his voice was a whisper–a pain-filled, cold, hard whisper. "Lisa was my friend. Friendship is fleeting."
"Not ours." Josh spoke vehemently.
"No?"
"No, Sam. Not ours."
Sam smiled a sad smile and nodded, but Josh wasn't certain his friend wasn't just trying to make him feel better. He pondered that all the way back to his desk, since retreating was the only thing Josh could think to do. Maybe, he thought, that's why Sam thinks friendship is fleeting.
TBC
