XVI

Toby chased CJ through the corridors several times before he actually managed to catch up with her. Finally he caught her in her office and she looked up at him over her glasses.

"Okay, what d'you want to talk about?"

"Sex."

CJ blinked. "Well, congratulations, you got my attention. Is this a suggestion, or-?"

"The Sex-Ed initiative."

"Ah. Toby, didn't we have this exact same fight on our hands with the abstinence-plus report?" she demanded.

"Yes. You know why? Because ignoring the problem didn't make it go away!"

"Toby," she said warningly.

"We need to get aggressive with this," he said forcefully.

"We need to, but we're not going to." Sex-Ed would be a tough sell even with a much stronger approval rating than they had now. As it was, they'd probably be laughed out of Washington for even trying.

But since when was unpopularity enough to dissuade Toby? "This is a big issue. We're long overdue on tackling this. What happened to all the big things we were gonna do when it came to our second term?"

"Reality happened," CJ told him pointedly. "Toby, you know what a narrow scrape-"

"Well, what was the point of scraping in at all if we're not gonna do anything now we're here?" he demanded, with rising agitation. "Leo won't even, won't even let me take it to the president-"

"Because the president will want to move forward on this, and he can't. And then we'll have a cranky president." And a cranky president was definitely pretty high on her list of things she didn't want to have to deal with right now. All of them currently residing a long way below the enormous faux pas of the administration swearing they were putting a radical bill through and then failing miserably to do so.

And, apparently, there was also a chance that Josh Lyman had awoken the ire of high-profile Congressional Democrats.

She had a headache.

"We should-"

"Toby, just... not now, okay?"

Toby sighed heavily, and then nodded. He left, and CJ sighed herself, rubbing her temples.

Turned out it wasn't going to be Josh's triumphant mood that made this day unbearable.

"Sam." Toby tapped rapidly on the doorframe and looked at his deputy, seated staring at a report as if he wasn't taking the words in. "I need you in on the Sex-Ed thing."

Sam blinked at him blearily, as if it was an effort to raise his head. "Why?" he asked vaguely.

"To... work on the Sex-Ed thing?" Toby tried. He was beginning to wonder what planet his deputy was living on lately. Quite apart from being unable to concentrate on his work, he was moody, brusque, and prone to sudden outbursts of frustrated anger. These were all qualities Toby had long considered to be virtues in himself, but in the younger man they were new, and somewhat troubling.

"No, seriously, why?" Sam sat back in his chair, and fixed his boss with a scowl. "What are we even looking at this for? What's the point?"

This was beginning to sound suspiciously like philosophical questions on the nature of existence, something Toby had little time for, especially when his deputy was supposed to be working. But he bit back the automatic sarcastic remark, remembering his old tutor's comments of the night before. They'd drifted too far from their original revolutionary purpose in the name of compromise and concession; maybe Sam had been feeling it, too.

He made an effort to take a deep breath and give the question the contemplation it deserved. "This is... this is important, Sam. We need to, to educate our children about these things. It's the right thing to do."

He was brought up short when Sam just snorted harshly at his words. "The right thing? What good's that gonna do?"

Toby was caught scrabbling for words, feeling absurdly like a parent who'd suddenly discovered his kids had stopped believing in Santa without telling him. Since when did Sam not care about doing the right thing? When had the magic power of those words trickled away?

"Is this about this morning's bill?" he hazarded, after a moment.

Sam laughed quietly, and shook his head. "This is about everything, Toby, haven't you noticed?" He stood up. "I'm going for coffee. Excuse me."

Toby automatically stepped aside to let him through the doorway, and was left staring after him as he made his way over to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup with sharp, angry movements.

There was obviously something very wrong with Sam. And he had a sinking feeling that he might have left noticing that fact entirely too late.

Jed rubbed his eyes tiredly as he leafed through yet another report. It was hard to muster any enthusiasm when the only thing of any value they'd been doing lately had just been rudely stomped on.

A lot had been riding on the Healthcare Bill, and not just the potential improvements it would have made to people's lives. Oh, Congress was never an easy gauntlet to run, and one lost bill, however big, was not enough to kill an administration. But it was a harsh blow, at a time when the last thing they needed was harsh blows. A victory would have been a springboard to build back up to better things; instead, they had political embarrassment to contend with, and another long season of scrabbling around in the dirt to build up their influence from scratch.

His first instinct had been to shout his frustration at Leo, but the bitter resignation in his Chief of Staff's face had dissuaded him. Then he'd wanted desperately to vent at Josh, but by the time the younger man had returned to the building, he'd reconsidered. Shouting wouldn't make anyone feel better, least of all himself. These days it felt like a major effort just to hold an ordinary conversation, let alone a screaming match.

Some aspects of his life, however, could never be a chore. He gave his first genuine smile since the news when Abbey appeared in his doorway.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." As she crossed the room to perch on the arm of his chair, he folded the report shut and set it aside, laying his head gratefully against her shoulder.

Abbey absently played with his hair and smiled down at him. "How're you doing, babe?"

He felt the tension begin to ebb out of him as he rested his chin on her hand. "I've been better," he admitted softly, closing his eyes.

"Bad day?" She kissed the top of his head.

"Not the worst, but..." He nodded without bothering to raise his head, and she laughed. She tilted his face up to look at her, and waited for his eyes to open.

"You should get some sleep," she said seriously, looking at him with some concern.

"It's early," he pointed out.

"You're tired."

"I'm always tired." It was both the truth and an automatic objection. There was always more work to do, and no matter how late he retired, he always felt guilty for abandoning it, even if only until the next morning.

Abbey curled her fingers through his hair, and smiled. "Come to bed, Jed," she insisted. He smirked.

"Ah, now I see your plan," he rumbled. "You're just trying to lure me away from my work so you can have your wicked way with me."

It was impossible to take any slight to his dignity when her throaty chuckle was so wonderful to listen to. "Jed, honey, I don't think you're in much of a state to be having your wicked way with anybody," she chided.

Probably true, but he was sure he felt more than up to some semi-wicked snuggling. "What's the matter, afraid you can't handle me?" he teased.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I can handle you any time I like," she said archly, and he decided that, dammit, wicked-way-having surely couldn't be that out of the question. He leaned forward to give her a kiss.

Abbey let it linger for just sweetly long enough, and then laughed and straightened up. "No getting fresh in the Oval Office," she chided, but she was smiling while she did it.

"You have no sense of adventure," he grumbled jokingly, standing up.

"And you have no sense of your own limitations," she said, linking her arm through his. Oh, it felt good to have his wife by his side again.

"That's why you love me," he told her as they headed for the door.

"Because you're arrogant, swollen-headed and egotistical?"

"And cute. You forgot cute."

"Of course. How could I forget cute?" She laid a quick kiss on his cheek as they exited the Oval, and he noticed a couple of staffers smile and quickly look away, affording the First Couple what little they could give in the way of privacy. He didn't mind if they all stared; all they would see was what they already knew, that he loved his wife as strongly and as deeply as he'd ever loved anything. Other occupants of this much-vaunted office might have worn their trophy marriages as a matter of convenience, but Jed and Abbey Bartlet refused to settle for anything less than the real thing.

Charlie leapt to his feet, a slight smirk pasted over his own features. However, Jed was suddenly in too cheerful a frame of mind to try and wipe it off. "Take an early night, Charlie," he tossed over his shoulder as he and his wife set off arm in arm for the Residence.

Healthcare Bill be damned, it could still be a good day if he wanted it to be.

Donna leaned her head against the doorframe and watched her boss for a moment. Josh brushed his hair back tiredly as he peered at the small print on a document, seemingly unaware of her presence. He'd barely spoken two words to her or anyone else, throwing himself into the kind of banal paperwork that he'd normally fight with every means at his disposal to avoid doing. Nobody had come by to commiserate; they were all too busy fighting the aftermath of the vote's loss to worry about its architect's mental state. But maybe it didn't matter, because Josh wouldn't have spoken to them anyway.

"Josh." It took a long moment for him to look up.

"Donna." He managed a weary smile.

"You should go home," she told him. For all the good it would do.

"I will."

"I mean now."

"I'll go soon." He smiled at her again. "You might as well go now. I haven't got anything else for you to do."

She hated this. It was so much worse than when Josh was being snarky and unreasonable. When Josh started being gentle and considerate, it meant he'd stopped being the bouncy, egotistical boss she knew and turned into the fragile, quietly sad stranger who inhabited the same shell. Donna had seen that side of him on more than one occasion, but she never knew how to break her way through it to the insecurities beneath.

"Josh," she said. But she didn't have anything to add to that, and Josh just held her gaze for a long moment and then turned back to his work.