XXI

SUNDAY:

"Okay, this is... I don't mind admitting I'm a little nervous." Steve tied and untied his bowtie several times.

Sam smiled at him. "You have an invitation. We're dating; I'm bringing you as my date."

"Yeah." He frowned at his reflection, and yanked the tie loose again. "I can't help noticing we went from 'I want people to find out when they find out' to 'hey, come and meet my boss and all my friends' kinda fast."

"I move fast when I know I'm in the right."

Steve had to smile back. "Well, okay. But I know what you said about your job and everything, so-"

"My friends are cool," Sam reassured him. "Probably rolling their eyes and wondering what the hell I'm gonna get up to next, but... they're cool. And they're dying to meet you."

He pulled a face. "Well-"

"And I'm dying to show you off," Sam added. "And that bowtie is tied already, so can we go?"

Steve rolled his eyes and allowed himself to be led towards the door. "I've known you like two weeks and it's like being married, already."

"I know." Sam gave him a slow smile. "I kinda like it."

They didn't hold hands as they headed out to Sam's car, but they didn't conspicuously not hold hands, either. People could figure it out when they figured it out.

"Mr. President."

"Ah, Toby." The president stood up, and Leo copied the motion.

"Hey, Toby. Did you need something?" It was a while yet before the scheduled start of the engagement party.

"I wanted to talk about the Sex-Ed package." Toby caught the face Leo immediately started making, but ignored it. "Sam and I have put together some material, and-"

"Toby, is this the best time for this?" Leo scowled pointedly.

"Will there ever be a better time?" he demanded forcefully. There was always an excuse for not committing; be it their slump in popularity, the loss of the bill, the revelation of Josh's PTSD, the unexpected news about Charlie and Zoey... maybe next time it would be Sam's personal life, and by then there was sure to be something else looming on the radar...

Talking with his old professor had been a forceful reminder of just how far he'd wandered from the revolutionary he'd once been. In the beginning, the whole Bartlet administration had been a pack of educated rebels, ready to take on the system and change it from within instead of without. But they'd been hit by difficulty after scandal after harsh blow, and like every other political entity since the beginning of government, they'd folded in on themselves for defence, put survival over reaching for the stars.

Well, it was time that they stopped. If they didn't remember who they were supposed to be, why should they survive?

"Leo, we can't pull back on our goals. We can't walk around them or run away from them. Yeah, we're in a tough spot, but the tough spots aren't going anywhere."

He could see that his words stirred a response in the Chief of Staff, but Leo slowly shook his head. "Sex-Ed's an impossible sell, Toby."

"We don't have to make the sale," he insisted, "we just have to get out there and let everybody know we're hawking it. Leo, this is a battle that we have to suit up for. This isn't about intangibles. This isn't about 'our way' and 'their way'. This is about teaching our children what they need to know. The only possible reason not to do this is because we're afraid to."

He took a breath, and turned his attention to the president. "The best way to be anti-abortion is to be pro-education. We can't force people to teach these things but by God, we owe it to the public to get that debate out there. If nothing else, then let it be our legacy that we left the American people better educated than when we came into office."

The president met his fiery gaze for a long moment, and then slowly nodded. Leo looked to him for guidance. "Mr. President?"

"Toby's right," the president said heavily. "We can't sit around on our asses waiting for things to get better. If this last two weeks taught me anything, it's that we don't know what's coming round the next corner. We have to make our mark now, before we lose our chance."

Toby thought for a second he read something troubling in the tone of the president's voice, but he let it slide as he straightened up under his leader's gaze.

"Go after this one, Toby," the president ordered. "We might not be able to hit it out of the ballpark, but we're gonna let everybody in the bleachers see us take a damn good swing at it."

Even Leo, doubts and misgivings aside, couldn't stop a wide grin from splitting his features.

"Yes, sir!" Toby agreed, with military fervour.

The Bartlet administration was back in the game.

"Okay, Sam?" Steve said slowly. "I can't help noticing, forgive me if I'm being a little presumptuous here, but this would appear to be... the White House."

Sam smiled to himself. "Yes."

"Ah. And when you said 'Steve, I work in politics', you couldn't perhaps have gone into a little bit more detail?"

"This way." Sam nodded at a few people in the lobby and led his companion into the West Wing.

Steve shook his head. "Jesus, Sam, when you were talking about getting your name splashed all over the newspapers, I thought you were just-"

"Being melodramatic?"

"Worrying about something a little smaller than- Sam, this is the White House," he said urgently.

"Yeah," Sam led him through the communications bullpen, standing empty at this time on a Sunday. "And this is my office."

"Whoa, wait." Steve stopped dead. "You have an office?"

"And it has a door and everything." Sam tapped his fingers against said door to make his point.

"Sam-" He pulled Steve into his office and closed the door behind them. "Who are you?" the younger man demanded.

"I'm just-" He shrugged. "I'm just a guy who works here. That's all. I'm just a guy."

"Who works here."

Sam smiled, and tugged him closer. "Just relax, okay? This is just... a place I work. It's just a thing I do. It's not the most important thing about me."

That, right there; that was the centre of it. That was the truth that he'd almost forgotten, and nearly sunk without trace because of it. He'd forgotten that he wasn't wholly the Deputy Communications Director, mouthpiece of the administration, living and breathing politics and condemned to choke on it when the parts of it that were pure and simple started to twist or disappear. He needed a life outside that, a place where he could just be Sam Seaborn. Of course, in political terms he hadn't chosen the most convenient place to find it... but that wasn't the important thing.

That shouldn't be the important thing.

"Okay." Steve reluctantly returned his smile. "It's just a little-"

"It's just a job," Sam insisted. He gave Steve a brief hug. "Take it easy, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, and pressed a quick kiss to Sam's temple.

The office door flew open.

"Well, I hope very much you're Steven Radcliffe."

"Yah!" Steve jumped as if he'd been shot, and Sam couldn't help laughing.

"Good evening, Mr. President."

The president smirked, and extended a hand to the still shell-shocked Steve. "Pleased to meet you, son. I'm Jed Bartlet."

"I... actually knew that, sir," Steve pointed out dazedly, shaking his hand nervously as if the president might decide to crush his fingers at any moment. The president was obviously amused by his overwhelmed demeanour.

Sam gave his country's leader a sharp look. "Okay, this is just the whole reason you asked me to bring my date along, isn't it?"

"I'm not allowed to have a little fun?" he demanded innocently. Steve made a slightly strangled noise, and the president patted him on the arm amiably. "You're doing fine, son," he reassured him. "Now, come along and join the others, I'm sure they're all dying to meet you."

He left, and Steve stared after him. Sam grinned at him. "Hey. How're you doing there?"

"Your... boss's... daughter's engagement party?" Steve said slowly, remembering how Sam had described this little gathering to him. Sam patted him on the shoulder.

"Welcome to my life," he shrugged. "It's not too late to run away," he added. Joking - but still, perhaps, a little nervous...

Steve took a deep breath. "I don't know. Maybe I'll stick around a while."

Sam smiled, and threaded his fingers through Steve's.

They went out to join the others.