***
Los Angeles
September
***
"I love you, Donna."
C.J. heard Donna's high laughter over the phone line. "It fits?"
"Oh, it fits. I can't believe you did this." C.J. stood in front of the hotel
room mirror, admiring herself in the sparkling golden gown that made her look
like a goddess. It clung in the right places, concealed the right things, and
made her legs look like they went on forever.
And the label said Gary Tennenberg.
Yes, she was more than able to buy a gown from his outrageously priced boutique
on Madison Avenue, but she'd longed for one that was made only for her. One that
no other woman at tonight's show could possibly be wearing, yet one that would
make their jaws drop.
Wouldn't hurt if Toby liked it, either.
"How does it look?"
"It looks...where was this guy when I was 25?" She sighed. "Things aren't where
they were, if you know what I mean."
"He sent some things...to fix that. Look in the little bag. They go on like
bandaids."
C.J. rummaged around in the plastic bag and found the adhesive pads. She put the
phone between her ear and her shoulder and reached inside the dress, still
talking to Donna. "I wasn't sure about the pink lining, but it really does take
a few years off my face. Or maybe a few weeks. Whatever. It's great, and you're
great, and...why am I going on and on like this?"
"Because you're about to walk the red carpet in front of the Shrine Auditorium
and get an Emmy award," Donna said. The matter-of-fact tone didn't hide her
excitement. She'd come up to New York the day after the nominations and had
spent the next morning shopping with C.J. for press conference and party
clothes, as happy as if she were the nominee. From Tavern on the Green she'd
pulled out her cell phone and dialed Gary Tennenberg's workroom, and by three in
the afternoon C.J. was being measured by the man himself. "I don't take a lot of
clients, but I'm always willing to make an exception for La Bella Donna."
Such a long way from the waif who'd appeared on the Bartlet for America
doorstep. "I wish you were here," C.J. said softly.
"Got butterflies in your stomach?"
"The butterflies have butterflies. I won't know what to say. What if I make a
face when they announce someone else winning?"
"Won't happen. Where's Toby?"
"His plane was delayed, but he called me from the cab and said he should be here
any minute. God, how do actors go through this every year?"
"Just relax, have a great time, and know that we'll all be crammed into Josh's
apartment because he has the biggest tv. We'll be cheering for you."
"Thanks, Donna. Talk to you tomorrow?"
"We're expecting that. Love you!"
C.J. inspected herself again. Just a little sag of the jawline, but her
cheekbones were as good as ever and her eyes were clear and bright. She heard
the key card in the lock and stood up straight, sucking in an imaginary tummy
and trying to look as if she weren't scared to death.
Toby didn't even put down his bag, just strode forward and kissed her. A little
rough, a little needy. A little in awe. "My God. You are stunning."
"You like it?"
"Like what?"
She rolled her eyes. "My pantyhose, Toby." When he looked down, puzzled, she
gave him a light tap on the head. "The dress. This dress."
"I didn't notice the dress," Toby whispered as he let go of his suitcase. "I got
distracted by, you know, what the dress is concealing." He put his hands on her
hips and drew her close so that her back was against his chest. One hand splayed
across her abdomen and the other drew circles on her bare back.
"Is that an Emmy in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?"
He groaned into her neck. "We don't have time, do we?"
"Nope. You need to get into your tux and our limo's coming in about fifteen
minutes, so time's of the essence."
"Later tonight," Toby assured her as he grabbed his bag and headed for the
bathroom, "I'm taking that dress off with my teeth, C.J., I swear to God."
"I'm counting on that." Smiling, she put a few touch-up items in her
extravagantly expensive gold purse and stood by the window, waiting for Toby.
She owed so much of this evening to her friends. Sure, her program had been a
hit, but she knew perfectly well which interview had clinched her nomination.
And without Sam's thoroughness, without Josh's wily ability to get people to
open up about what they knew...this wouldn't have happened.
A coalition of Republicans and Democrats would never have formed. The rights of
the poor, of minorities, of all sorts of disenfranchised people, would have been
left alone for fear of political suicide instead of being embraced, as they were
right now.
The world can move, or not...
Toby. She could never have done any of this without Toby. From the moment he
watched her slosh out of her pool, a chlorinated baptism, he had shaped her,
mentored her. Loved her.
And now he was standing at her side, dressed in his custom-made tux, reaching
for her hand. He brought it to his lips. "Let's go," he whispered against her
knuckles.
They rode to the auditorium in silence, holding hands, watching the palm trees
and the cyclists. When the driver stopped, Toby helped C.J. out of the car and
immediately the crowd started screaming and cameras clicked away. In spite of
Toby's low profile, the couple managed to keep a pretty respectable buzz in the
gossip community - to C.J.'s amusement and Toby's hand-wringing dismay.
She was interviewed - local media, someone from Entertainment Tonight,
photographers from Vogue, People, and other glossy magazines she never had the
inclination to read. And, inevitably, she found herself in front of Joan Rivers.
"She's still alive?" Toby whispered into her ear, and she jabbed him with her
purse.
"Keep a low profile - maybe she won't see us."
"Of course she won't see us - she's had so many facelifts that her breasts are
covering her eyes."
It was then that they were able to hear the woman's voice, the sickly,
quavering, nasal alto. "Over there is Claudia Jean Cregg, the clotheshorse of
NBC. Can we get a close on her dress, since I'm sure she won't deign to speak to
me?" Rivers waited a moment before continuing. "Well, it's a nice dress, and
she's got a decent body for a woman her age. But still - who does she think
she's kidding?" With that, she turned away and began to paw some nubile sitcom
actress.
C.J. stood stock still, not listening to the question she was being asked.
Instead she watched in dumbfounded horror as Toby walked over to Rivers and
tapped her on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, Ms. Rivers."
"Hold on!"
"No, I don't think I will."
C.J., who by this time had covered her eyes with her hands, now opened her
fingers so she could peek at the P.R. nightmare unfolding right in front of her.
"You've insulted the woman I love," Toby said. "That would be Ms. Cregg,
standing over there and looking a hell of a lot better than you ever could have
hoped."
This was going out live. People were watching this. Thousands of people.
Millions. Watching Toby towering over the old bag and waving his finger in her
face.
"For years you've had carte blanche to say whatever meaningless, catty things
come into your wizened brain. But I say, right here, right now, no more! No.
More."
"I have a right--"
"Yes, you have a right to be stupid. You even have a right to be rude. But I
have a right - a responsibility - to call you on it. And since I know you don't
have the breeding to apologize, I'm just going to face this camera, over here.
Over here, don't worry, it's okay," he said, beckoning to the astonished video
operator. "On Ms. Cregg's behalf, I'm donating an amount of money equal to the
hand-made Tennenberg gown she's wearing to the charity of your choice, Ms.
Rivers. What's it going to be?"
The woman just gaped at him.
"Tell you what. When you find a charity, have your people call my people. That
would be President Josiah Bartlet and Dr. Abigail Bartlet. Don't hesitate to let
them know where the money will be going."
With that, he stalked over to C.J. and put his arm around her shoulders, guiding
her toward the main entrance. "That was my entertainment for the evening. Now
let's go pick out a statue for you."
***
Washington, D.C.
***
Speechless.
Josh froze with his hand in the popcorn bowl. Nina leaned forward as much as her
increased size would allow, her hands in front of her mouth. Matt, who was
sitting next to Donna, squeezed her arm so hard that she would have shrieked in
protest had she been focused enough to know it was happening.
Sam sat still, blinking rapidly, his mouth opening and closing with no sound
coming out.
Holy hell.
His cell phone rang. "Please, God, don't let it be the Post," he moaned as he
flipped the phone open. "Sam Seaborn."
"Did you see that!" It was Abbey, shouting into the phone. "He told her off. On
nationwide television!"
"Yes, he certainly did." He put the phone to his shoulder for a moment. "It's
Abbey," he said to the others, who ordinarily would've shouted greetings but
tonight just waved in the general direction of the phone.
"Jed's about to burst an artery. Is Toby going to be in some sort of trouble?"
"I don't think so. He didn't physically threaten her. I mean, the people at E!
aren't going to love him, but they can't do anything about a comment made in a
public place. Plus, it's not as if he hadn't been provoked."
"So he's not going to be, you know, arrested or anything."
"No. Although I suspect C.J. may hold him captive, later on."
Abbey breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, then, I'll let you go. Just wanted to
make sure we weren't going to have to fly to California and bail him out of
jail. Give everyone my love."
"I'll do that." He hung up the phone. "She sends her love."
Silence.
This was going to be an inspiring night.
***
Los Angeles
***
"And the Emmy for 'Variety or Interview' goes to..." Brokaw didn't even bother
to suppress his smile. "C.J. Cregg, 'Practical Politics,' NBC."
Toby realized that C.J. was just sitting there, smiling politely and applauding.
She'd been so nervous that she hadn't heard her name called.
"Who won?" she asked through her teeth.
"That would be...you."
She shifted in her chair as the applause swelled and the theme song from her
show began a second time. Toby gave her a little push at the small of the back
and she rose, looking dazed, and let the ushers help her up the stairs.
Brokaw handed her the statue and stepped back, applauding. Then the audience got
to its feet and Toby couldn't see her again until he rose as well, watching with
amazement as C.J. pulled herself up to her full height and motioned that she was
ready to begin.
"Thank you - this is an unexpected honor. I really only came tonight to show off
my dress. Do you like it?"
The crowd cheered.
***
Washington, D.C.
***
The crowd cheered.
Nina wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Damn hormones," she said, but then she saw
tears in Donna's eyes as well, and Josh's, although he did his best to hide
them. And Sam's, as he leaned over to kiss her.
"She's so beautiful," Josh murmured. "Look at her. How did we not know that
until now?"
"The rest of us have always known." Donna blew her nose on the paper napkin that
had been around her glass. "Figures that it'd take you longer."
***
Manchester
***
They held hands and watched, full of pride, as C.J. held the statue aloft.
"That's our girl," Bartlet said to his wife, and for once she didn't bother to
correct his choice of words, because she was too busy dabbing at her eyes.
***
Los Angeles
***
"I don't have a speech prepared. I came with a speechwriter, but unless he's
doing something with magic marker on the back of the program, I'm on my own."
She'd never expected this, not even when newspapers across the country said that
she was a sure thing. She'd kept her expectations low, and now she was in front
of a camera with no idea what to say next.
Finding Toby in the crowd, she smiled at him. "Thank you, members of the
Academy, and my peers in the broadcast news industry. I'm honored - and touched.
And more than a little scared." Her hands trembled, so she set the statue down
on the podium. "It has been an honor and a privilege to be a part of 'Practical
Politics.' I'd be remiss if I didn't thank everyone involved in the production -
but I'd be more remiss if I tried, because I'd just leave someone out and that
would get me into hot water.
"Instead, I'd like to dedicate this to someone who saw potential in a
freshly-unemployed P.R. person, who shepherded her through the trying process of
becoming the face and voice of a campaign and a Presidency. Who believed." She
stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Who believed," she said again.
"With love, and respect, and a gratitude that will last forever - this statue
belongs to Leo McGarry, and I hope that, wherever he is, he knows how much I owe
him. Thank you very much."
She didn't hear the roar of the crowd, but she was aware of Toby's proud gaze.
Felt it backstage when he sidled up beside the crowd of photographers, Saw it as
he looked at her with such longing that she wanted desperately to bolt, to run
away with him and never, ever look back.
But soon there were other, more glamorous people to photograph, and C.J. was
taken to a quiet room off to one side of the stage. She sat on the edge of a
small, tapestried chair, the statue clutched in her shaking hands.
Toby entered and walked in front of her, then sat on his heels and covered her
hands with his. "You were good," he said simply.
"I can think on my feet," she replied, blowing a lock of hair away from her
face.
He kept looking at her, the love in his warm, dark eyes making the blood rush to
her cheeks. "You can also think off your feet."
A slow, sexy smile worked its way across her face. She'd be missed at the
parties, but that didn't matter. Didn't mean anything. All that mattered was
Toby.
So she stood up, smoothing the beaded silk of her gown, and held her hand out to
him. "I think we left the meter running," she whispered, and they laughed as
they made their way through the glittering crowds.
***
Washington, D.C.
Georgetown Hospital
December
***
Josh shrugged out of his coat as he joined Matt and Donna in the waiting room.
"I know I'm late to the party, but why are there protesters outside the
hospital?"
"They're expressing displeasure at the manner in which Nina is giving birth."
Donna sounded completely, utterly disdainful.
Josh was utterly confused. "There's more than one way? I mean, don't babies
pretty much come, standard, from the same place?"
Matt shook his head and chuckled. "There are two factions outside - and they
don't like each other very much, either. One group says that Nina, as the wife
of an influential politician, should set an example for women everywhere and
have her baby at home with a midwife. Another says that she's welcome to have
the baby in a hospital, but only if she agrees to do so without pain
medication."
"And that's not, you know, incredibly intrusive?" Josh raked his hand through
his hair.
"That's pretty much what Nina told them as the nurses put her into the
wheelchair. Only she was in the middle of a contraction and she maybe didn't put
it quite so nicely." Donna smirked as she moved over to allow Josh enough room
on the little couch.
They pretended to work at their laptops, looking up at the clock once in a while
and getting nervous every time a doctor or nurse passed by.
Josh got up and started to pace. "Sit down, Josh," Matt and Donna said in
chorus, and he took his place sheepishly.
"How long is this likely to take?" he asked, earning glares from the people on
either side of him.
Donna somehow managed to roll her eyes without looking away from her laptop.
"I'll feed you to the protesters if you don't cut that out. It takes as long as
it takes. You'd think this was your baby, the way you're going on."
He'd thought Amy was pregnant. If she had been, it might have been his baby he
was waiting for today.
Put those thoughts away, he told himself. This isn't about you. "Is Nina's
father here?" he asked instead.
"He's on his way - he was in London on business, so he's probably going to get
here too late for the birth, but in plenty of time for the christening." Matt
stretched his long legs in front of him and yawned. "We told C.J. and Toby, of
course, and Toby told the Bartlets."
"What about Sam's parents?"
Matt shrugged. "His mother wouldn't come unless we could assure her his father
wouldn't come. And vice-versa, so it was a stalemate. We're supposed to call
when we know something."
Josh looked over Matt's shoulder toward the door. Sam stood in the doorway,
wearing the ugliest green scrubs Josh had ever seen.
And the most infatuated smile.
"It's a girl," he whispered.
Donna leapt to her feet and threw her arms around Sam, unmindful of the spatters
of blood here and there. She kissed him on the cheek and tousled his hair. "Way
to go! How's Nina?"
"She's groggy and tired, but she's fine. The baby weighs seven pounds even, and
she's...she's so beautiful." Sam opened his arms and draped them around Josh and
Matt. "They're weighing her and stuff, but I wanted to come in and tell you."
"When can we see her?" Donna asked.
"They said half an hour or so, as soon as they get Nina in a regular room. I've
got to get back there," he added, gesturing vaguely. "Can someone call my
parents?"
"I'm on it." Donna waved her cell phone. "I'll have to go outside, though.
Someone tell me when we can see Nina and the baby."
"I'll come get you." Josh turned around and hugged Sam around the waist.
"Congratulations, Sam."
"Thanks. Wait, you're gonna get...all over you." Sam backed up and pulled the
ties at the back of his neck, then balled the scrubs up and looked around. A
passing orderly took the bundle, grinning, and tossed it neatly into a hazardous
waste container.
"Thank you," Matt called after him. "You go on and get Nina settled, and we'll
just wait here until someone tells us it's okay."
"See you in a few minutes." Sam bolted down the hall.
Josh put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "Something tells me he's not
going to have the candidacy on his mind for a while."
"We'll fill in," Matt declared. "Do you think Donna's going to tell the press,
or should someone from Sam's office take care of that?"
"Good question." Josh scowled at nothing in particular. "See, this is why we've
got to get more organized in the next month or so. We need faces and voices so
you and I can concentrate on platform."
"I agree. But let's not get into that right now." Matt waved at Donna, who was
coming back into the waiting area. "Did you call--?"
"C.J., Toby, and a separate call to the Bartlets. Sam's parents, Ginger - who's
getting someone from the Press Office to make a statement..."
Josh smiled. That was the Donna he knew. Efficient and quick. No wonder Matt was
doing so well.
"...and the personnel director at the A.S.O."
By the time she had finished telling them, over and over, what she'd said to
each of the people she'd talked to, a nurse came by and ushered them to a room
further down the hall. Matt went in first, with his hand on Donna's elbow, and
Josh followed behind.
Nina was propped up in a nest of pillows, her damp hair tied back from her face
with a white band. She looked up at her visitors and smiled. "Hey, look what I
did," she said, pointing to the pink bundle in her arms.
"I like to think I had a hand in this," Sam protested.
"You had more than a hand in it," was Nina's comeback.
"Glad to know you've kept your sense of humor." Matt leaned over and kissed her,
then looked approvingly at the baby. "Very nice. Hey, Donna, think Gary would do
a christening gown?"
"Possibly, once he sees how gorgeous she is!" Donna exclaimed as she took a peek
over Matt's shoulder. "Josh, have you ever seen such a beautiful baby?"
Josh, who was of the opinion that all babies looked pretty much alike, went
through the motions. "She's got, you know, hair and stuff."
"And fingers, and toes, and fingernails, and everything." Nina traced the baby's
mouth with one finger. "We're naming her Helen. That was my mother's name."
Tears filled Nina's eyes and slipped down her cheeks. "I wish she could be here
to see this..."
"You're worn out. We'll come back tomorrow, okay?" Donna, whose eyes were
shining with sympathetic tears, embraced Nina and motioned for the men to come
with her.
"I'm sorry - I'll be better tomorrow. And Sam, will you tell them?"
"Right." Sam nodded, still looking dazed, and stepped into the hall with his
friends.
"Tell us what?" Josh asked, dipping his chin as he examined Sam's face for any
sign of trouble.
Sam cleared his throat. "We're going to have the christening on Thursday, if
Nina's up to it. Just for family, at St. Stephen's."
"I can help Ginger with the arrangements," Donna volunteered, but Sam cut her
off with a smile and a shake of his head.
"I need you to do another job for me. I'd like you to be Helen's godmother."
That started the waterworks for real. Donna hiccupped as she threw her arms
around Sam and whispered that she'd be honored.
Patting Donna's back, Sam said that Helen would need a godfather as well. "Matt?
Would you be willing?"
Matt glanced from Sam to Josh, then back to Sam. "With pleasure," he said, but
his voice sounded questioning.
Abstracted as Sam was, he picked up on the hint. "Josh, you know that there's no
one in the world I--"
"I understand, Sam. It's okay." He smiled even though he was more than a little
hurt. "Really."
"No, it's not," Sam sighed. "But the religion thing. You wouldn't be comfortable
raising a Gentile child, Josh. Besides, Toby would kick your ass if you tried
it."
"More than likely. Don't worry, Sam. I got to be your best man. I can settle for
second-best man. And you know I won't love Helen any less, right?"
"I know that. Thanks for understanding." Sam inclined his head toward Nina's
room. "I don't want to leave her by herself - will you visit in the morning?"
"Wouldn't miss it." Matt put his arm around Donna's shoulder and turned her in
the direction of the elevator. Josh followed behind and got into the elevator
with them.
"You handled that really well," Donna said after a few quiet moments, and to
Josh's surprise she reached for his hand and threaded her fingers through his.
"I'm very proud of you."
"Thank you," he said quietly, and for the first time in two years the veil of
awkwardness between them began to lift.
At least until he saw Matt looking at him with a combination of skepticism and
alarm.
***
St. Stephen's Church
***
Helen reacted with remarkable aplomb as she was christened, squirming just a
little in Donna's arms while the priest blessed her. Matt, who held Helen's
tiny hand, grinned broadly when the baby's eyes focused on him. They returned
Helen to her parents at the reception and turned around as Bartlet lifted a
glass of champagne.
"We're here to celebrate new life, of course, but there's more than one meaning
to that. I'd like to start by recognizing a few new things and the people who
brought them about. New life's right here among us, and new beginnings, and even
a new direction for our beloved nation. To Josh, Toby, and the bottle of
Glenlivet that Donna sent for Toby's birthday, the bottle of Glenlivet that Nina
sent for Toby's birthday, and the fact that C.J. was in San Francisco on Toby's
birthday, thereby leaving an opportunity for the consumption of Glenlivet and
the making of history." He paused while everyone laughed. "It didn't hurt that
Sam was a little preoccupied that night, either.
"But I digress. We're here to launch Helen into the world, the face that
launched a thousand ships, and the little hand that's pulling on her daddy's tie
in such an enchanting fashion." He took the white-clad bundle from her father
and held her in his own arms. "What a life you'll have, my beautiful little
angel, with your mommy's curls and your daddy's big blue eyes. You'll have their
music and words, all the best of art and philosophy, all at your tiny
fingertips. Although your daddy may be so busy ridding the house of gentlemen
callers that you might not see as much of him as you'd like. But his protective
love will be there with you, and his conscience, and your mother's intelligence
and unwavering devotion. You'll have Donna and Matt as spiritual guides, and no
finer examples are there in the world. With witty, clever Aunt C.J. at your
side, you'll never be at a loss for words. Even less so around your Uncle Toby.
Although he may teach you some words your parents would just as soon you didn't
use."
Toby glowered, but he didn't fool anyone.
"God only knows what Uncle Josh has in store for you. Possibly a city council
job instead of a lemonade stand. And don't forget about Abbey and me, the extra
set of grandparents who aren't afraid of diapers, fifth grade math homework,
first love, or those little rubber bands they put on braces." Jed leaned over
and kissed Helen's rosy cheek.
"Welcome to the world, Helen Miranda Seaborn. Welcome to your family - and this
family, your extended one - and may you grow up in a house full of love,
gentleness, and peace."
As he brought the baby back to Nina, Bartlet paused with his hand on Sam's
shoulder. "I just hope that house is the big white one."
***
End "Healthy Irreverence."
To the next section: "The Surest Wisdom."
Los Angeles
September
***
"I love you, Donna."
C.J. heard Donna's high laughter over the phone line. "It fits?"
"Oh, it fits. I can't believe you did this." C.J. stood in front of the hotel
room mirror, admiring herself in the sparkling golden gown that made her look
like a goddess. It clung in the right places, concealed the right things, and
made her legs look like they went on forever.
And the label said Gary Tennenberg.
Yes, she was more than able to buy a gown from his outrageously priced boutique
on Madison Avenue, but she'd longed for one that was made only for her. One that
no other woman at tonight's show could possibly be wearing, yet one that would
make their jaws drop.
Wouldn't hurt if Toby liked it, either.
"How does it look?"
"It looks...where was this guy when I was 25?" She sighed. "Things aren't where
they were, if you know what I mean."
"He sent some things...to fix that. Look in the little bag. They go on like
bandaids."
C.J. rummaged around in the plastic bag and found the adhesive pads. She put the
phone between her ear and her shoulder and reached inside the dress, still
talking to Donna. "I wasn't sure about the pink lining, but it really does take
a few years off my face. Or maybe a few weeks. Whatever. It's great, and you're
great, and...why am I going on and on like this?"
"Because you're about to walk the red carpet in front of the Shrine Auditorium
and get an Emmy award," Donna said. The matter-of-fact tone didn't hide her
excitement. She'd come up to New York the day after the nominations and had
spent the next morning shopping with C.J. for press conference and party
clothes, as happy as if she were the nominee. From Tavern on the Green she'd
pulled out her cell phone and dialed Gary Tennenberg's workroom, and by three in
the afternoon C.J. was being measured by the man himself. "I don't take a lot of
clients, but I'm always willing to make an exception for La Bella Donna."
Such a long way from the waif who'd appeared on the Bartlet for America
doorstep. "I wish you were here," C.J. said softly.
"Got butterflies in your stomach?"
"The butterflies have butterflies. I won't know what to say. What if I make a
face when they announce someone else winning?"
"Won't happen. Where's Toby?"
"His plane was delayed, but he called me from the cab and said he should be here
any minute. God, how do actors go through this every year?"
"Just relax, have a great time, and know that we'll all be crammed into Josh's
apartment because he has the biggest tv. We'll be cheering for you."
"Thanks, Donna. Talk to you tomorrow?"
"We're expecting that. Love you!"
C.J. inspected herself again. Just a little sag of the jawline, but her
cheekbones were as good as ever and her eyes were clear and bright. She heard
the key card in the lock and stood up straight, sucking in an imaginary tummy
and trying to look as if she weren't scared to death.
Toby didn't even put down his bag, just strode forward and kissed her. A little
rough, a little needy. A little in awe. "My God. You are stunning."
"You like it?"
"Like what?"
She rolled her eyes. "My pantyhose, Toby." When he looked down, puzzled, she
gave him a light tap on the head. "The dress. This dress."
"I didn't notice the dress," Toby whispered as he let go of his suitcase. "I got
distracted by, you know, what the dress is concealing." He put his hands on her
hips and drew her close so that her back was against his chest. One hand splayed
across her abdomen and the other drew circles on her bare back.
"Is that an Emmy in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?"
He groaned into her neck. "We don't have time, do we?"
"Nope. You need to get into your tux and our limo's coming in about fifteen
minutes, so time's of the essence."
"Later tonight," Toby assured her as he grabbed his bag and headed for the
bathroom, "I'm taking that dress off with my teeth, C.J., I swear to God."
"I'm counting on that." Smiling, she put a few touch-up items in her
extravagantly expensive gold purse and stood by the window, waiting for Toby.
She owed so much of this evening to her friends. Sure, her program had been a
hit, but she knew perfectly well which interview had clinched her nomination.
And without Sam's thoroughness, without Josh's wily ability to get people to
open up about what they knew...this wouldn't have happened.
A coalition of Republicans and Democrats would never have formed. The rights of
the poor, of minorities, of all sorts of disenfranchised people, would have been
left alone for fear of political suicide instead of being embraced, as they were
right now.
The world can move, or not...
Toby. She could never have done any of this without Toby. From the moment he
watched her slosh out of her pool, a chlorinated baptism, he had shaped her,
mentored her. Loved her.
And now he was standing at her side, dressed in his custom-made tux, reaching
for her hand. He brought it to his lips. "Let's go," he whispered against her
knuckles.
They rode to the auditorium in silence, holding hands, watching the palm trees
and the cyclists. When the driver stopped, Toby helped C.J. out of the car and
immediately the crowd started screaming and cameras clicked away. In spite of
Toby's low profile, the couple managed to keep a pretty respectable buzz in the
gossip community - to C.J.'s amusement and Toby's hand-wringing dismay.
She was interviewed - local media, someone from Entertainment Tonight,
photographers from Vogue, People, and other glossy magazines she never had the
inclination to read. And, inevitably, she found herself in front of Joan Rivers.
"She's still alive?" Toby whispered into her ear, and she jabbed him with her
purse.
"Keep a low profile - maybe she won't see us."
"Of course she won't see us - she's had so many facelifts that her breasts are
covering her eyes."
It was then that they were able to hear the woman's voice, the sickly,
quavering, nasal alto. "Over there is Claudia Jean Cregg, the clotheshorse of
NBC. Can we get a close on her dress, since I'm sure she won't deign to speak to
me?" Rivers waited a moment before continuing. "Well, it's a nice dress, and
she's got a decent body for a woman her age. But still - who does she think
she's kidding?" With that, she turned away and began to paw some nubile sitcom
actress.
C.J. stood stock still, not listening to the question she was being asked.
Instead she watched in dumbfounded horror as Toby walked over to Rivers and
tapped her on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, Ms. Rivers."
"Hold on!"
"No, I don't think I will."
C.J., who by this time had covered her eyes with her hands, now opened her
fingers so she could peek at the P.R. nightmare unfolding right in front of her.
"You've insulted the woman I love," Toby said. "That would be Ms. Cregg,
standing over there and looking a hell of a lot better than you ever could have
hoped."
This was going out live. People were watching this. Thousands of people.
Millions. Watching Toby towering over the old bag and waving his finger in her
face.
"For years you've had carte blanche to say whatever meaningless, catty things
come into your wizened brain. But I say, right here, right now, no more! No.
More."
"I have a right--"
"Yes, you have a right to be stupid. You even have a right to be rude. But I
have a right - a responsibility - to call you on it. And since I know you don't
have the breeding to apologize, I'm just going to face this camera, over here.
Over here, don't worry, it's okay," he said, beckoning to the astonished video
operator. "On Ms. Cregg's behalf, I'm donating an amount of money equal to the
hand-made Tennenberg gown she's wearing to the charity of your choice, Ms.
Rivers. What's it going to be?"
The woman just gaped at him.
"Tell you what. When you find a charity, have your people call my people. That
would be President Josiah Bartlet and Dr. Abigail Bartlet. Don't hesitate to let
them know where the money will be going."
With that, he stalked over to C.J. and put his arm around her shoulders, guiding
her toward the main entrance. "That was my entertainment for the evening. Now
let's go pick out a statue for you."
***
Washington, D.C.
***
Speechless.
Josh froze with his hand in the popcorn bowl. Nina leaned forward as much as her
increased size would allow, her hands in front of her mouth. Matt, who was
sitting next to Donna, squeezed her arm so hard that she would have shrieked in
protest had she been focused enough to know it was happening.
Sam sat still, blinking rapidly, his mouth opening and closing with no sound
coming out.
Holy hell.
His cell phone rang. "Please, God, don't let it be the Post," he moaned as he
flipped the phone open. "Sam Seaborn."
"Did you see that!" It was Abbey, shouting into the phone. "He told her off. On
nationwide television!"
"Yes, he certainly did." He put the phone to his shoulder for a moment. "It's
Abbey," he said to the others, who ordinarily would've shouted greetings but
tonight just waved in the general direction of the phone.
"Jed's about to burst an artery. Is Toby going to be in some sort of trouble?"
"I don't think so. He didn't physically threaten her. I mean, the people at E!
aren't going to love him, but they can't do anything about a comment made in a
public place. Plus, it's not as if he hadn't been provoked."
"So he's not going to be, you know, arrested or anything."
"No. Although I suspect C.J. may hold him captive, later on."
Abbey breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, then, I'll let you go. Just wanted to
make sure we weren't going to have to fly to California and bail him out of
jail. Give everyone my love."
"I'll do that." He hung up the phone. "She sends her love."
Silence.
This was going to be an inspiring night.
***
Los Angeles
***
"And the Emmy for 'Variety or Interview' goes to..." Brokaw didn't even bother
to suppress his smile. "C.J. Cregg, 'Practical Politics,' NBC."
Toby realized that C.J. was just sitting there, smiling politely and applauding.
She'd been so nervous that she hadn't heard her name called.
"Who won?" she asked through her teeth.
"That would be...you."
She shifted in her chair as the applause swelled and the theme song from her
show began a second time. Toby gave her a little push at the small of the back
and she rose, looking dazed, and let the ushers help her up the stairs.
Brokaw handed her the statue and stepped back, applauding. Then the audience got
to its feet and Toby couldn't see her again until he rose as well, watching with
amazement as C.J. pulled herself up to her full height and motioned that she was
ready to begin.
"Thank you - this is an unexpected honor. I really only came tonight to show off
my dress. Do you like it?"
The crowd cheered.
***
Washington, D.C.
***
The crowd cheered.
Nina wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Damn hormones," she said, but then she saw
tears in Donna's eyes as well, and Josh's, although he did his best to hide
them. And Sam's, as he leaned over to kiss her.
"She's so beautiful," Josh murmured. "Look at her. How did we not know that
until now?"
"The rest of us have always known." Donna blew her nose on the paper napkin that
had been around her glass. "Figures that it'd take you longer."
***
Manchester
***
They held hands and watched, full of pride, as C.J. held the statue aloft.
"That's our girl," Bartlet said to his wife, and for once she didn't bother to
correct his choice of words, because she was too busy dabbing at her eyes.
***
Los Angeles
***
"I don't have a speech prepared. I came with a speechwriter, but unless he's
doing something with magic marker on the back of the program, I'm on my own."
She'd never expected this, not even when newspapers across the country said that
she was a sure thing. She'd kept her expectations low, and now she was in front
of a camera with no idea what to say next.
Finding Toby in the crowd, she smiled at him. "Thank you, members of the
Academy, and my peers in the broadcast news industry. I'm honored - and touched.
And more than a little scared." Her hands trembled, so she set the statue down
on the podium. "It has been an honor and a privilege to be a part of 'Practical
Politics.' I'd be remiss if I didn't thank everyone involved in the production -
but I'd be more remiss if I tried, because I'd just leave someone out and that
would get me into hot water.
"Instead, I'd like to dedicate this to someone who saw potential in a
freshly-unemployed P.R. person, who shepherded her through the trying process of
becoming the face and voice of a campaign and a Presidency. Who believed." She
stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Who believed," she said again.
"With love, and respect, and a gratitude that will last forever - this statue
belongs to Leo McGarry, and I hope that, wherever he is, he knows how much I owe
him. Thank you very much."
She didn't hear the roar of the crowd, but she was aware of Toby's proud gaze.
Felt it backstage when he sidled up beside the crowd of photographers, Saw it as
he looked at her with such longing that she wanted desperately to bolt, to run
away with him and never, ever look back.
But soon there were other, more glamorous people to photograph, and C.J. was
taken to a quiet room off to one side of the stage. She sat on the edge of a
small, tapestried chair, the statue clutched in her shaking hands.
Toby entered and walked in front of her, then sat on his heels and covered her
hands with his. "You were good," he said simply.
"I can think on my feet," she replied, blowing a lock of hair away from her
face.
He kept looking at her, the love in his warm, dark eyes making the blood rush to
her cheeks. "You can also think off your feet."
A slow, sexy smile worked its way across her face. She'd be missed at the
parties, but that didn't matter. Didn't mean anything. All that mattered was
Toby.
So she stood up, smoothing the beaded silk of her gown, and held her hand out to
him. "I think we left the meter running," she whispered, and they laughed as
they made their way through the glittering crowds.
***
Washington, D.C.
Georgetown Hospital
December
***
Josh shrugged out of his coat as he joined Matt and Donna in the waiting room.
"I know I'm late to the party, but why are there protesters outside the
hospital?"
"They're expressing displeasure at the manner in which Nina is giving birth."
Donna sounded completely, utterly disdainful.
Josh was utterly confused. "There's more than one way? I mean, don't babies
pretty much come, standard, from the same place?"
Matt shook his head and chuckled. "There are two factions outside - and they
don't like each other very much, either. One group says that Nina, as the wife
of an influential politician, should set an example for women everywhere and
have her baby at home with a midwife. Another says that she's welcome to have
the baby in a hospital, but only if she agrees to do so without pain
medication."
"And that's not, you know, incredibly intrusive?" Josh raked his hand through
his hair.
"That's pretty much what Nina told them as the nurses put her into the
wheelchair. Only she was in the middle of a contraction and she maybe didn't put
it quite so nicely." Donna smirked as she moved over to allow Josh enough room
on the little couch.
They pretended to work at their laptops, looking up at the clock once in a while
and getting nervous every time a doctor or nurse passed by.
Josh got up and started to pace. "Sit down, Josh," Matt and Donna said in
chorus, and he took his place sheepishly.
"How long is this likely to take?" he asked, earning glares from the people on
either side of him.
Donna somehow managed to roll her eyes without looking away from her laptop.
"I'll feed you to the protesters if you don't cut that out. It takes as long as
it takes. You'd think this was your baby, the way you're going on."
He'd thought Amy was pregnant. If she had been, it might have been his baby he
was waiting for today.
Put those thoughts away, he told himself. This isn't about you. "Is Nina's
father here?" he asked instead.
"He's on his way - he was in London on business, so he's probably going to get
here too late for the birth, but in plenty of time for the christening." Matt
stretched his long legs in front of him and yawned. "We told C.J. and Toby, of
course, and Toby told the Bartlets."
"What about Sam's parents?"
Matt shrugged. "His mother wouldn't come unless we could assure her his father
wouldn't come. And vice-versa, so it was a stalemate. We're supposed to call
when we know something."
Josh looked over Matt's shoulder toward the door. Sam stood in the doorway,
wearing the ugliest green scrubs Josh had ever seen.
And the most infatuated smile.
"It's a girl," he whispered.
Donna leapt to her feet and threw her arms around Sam, unmindful of the spatters
of blood here and there. She kissed him on the cheek and tousled his hair. "Way
to go! How's Nina?"
"She's groggy and tired, but she's fine. The baby weighs seven pounds even, and
she's...she's so beautiful." Sam opened his arms and draped them around Josh and
Matt. "They're weighing her and stuff, but I wanted to come in and tell you."
"When can we see her?" Donna asked.
"They said half an hour or so, as soon as they get Nina in a regular room. I've
got to get back there," he added, gesturing vaguely. "Can someone call my
parents?"
"I'm on it." Donna waved her cell phone. "I'll have to go outside, though.
Someone tell me when we can see Nina and the baby."
"I'll come get you." Josh turned around and hugged Sam around the waist.
"Congratulations, Sam."
"Thanks. Wait, you're gonna get...all over you." Sam backed up and pulled the
ties at the back of his neck, then balled the scrubs up and looked around. A
passing orderly took the bundle, grinning, and tossed it neatly into a hazardous
waste container.
"Thank you," Matt called after him. "You go on and get Nina settled, and we'll
just wait here until someone tells us it's okay."
"See you in a few minutes." Sam bolted down the hall.
Josh put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "Something tells me he's not
going to have the candidacy on his mind for a while."
"We'll fill in," Matt declared. "Do you think Donna's going to tell the press,
or should someone from Sam's office take care of that?"
"Good question." Josh scowled at nothing in particular. "See, this is why we've
got to get more organized in the next month or so. We need faces and voices so
you and I can concentrate on platform."
"I agree. But let's not get into that right now." Matt waved at Donna, who was
coming back into the waiting area. "Did you call--?"
"C.J., Toby, and a separate call to the Bartlets. Sam's parents, Ginger - who's
getting someone from the Press Office to make a statement..."
Josh smiled. That was the Donna he knew. Efficient and quick. No wonder Matt was
doing so well.
"...and the personnel director at the A.S.O."
By the time she had finished telling them, over and over, what she'd said to
each of the people she'd talked to, a nurse came by and ushered them to a room
further down the hall. Matt went in first, with his hand on Donna's elbow, and
Josh followed behind.
Nina was propped up in a nest of pillows, her damp hair tied back from her face
with a white band. She looked up at her visitors and smiled. "Hey, look what I
did," she said, pointing to the pink bundle in her arms.
"I like to think I had a hand in this," Sam protested.
"You had more than a hand in it," was Nina's comeback.
"Glad to know you've kept your sense of humor." Matt leaned over and kissed her,
then looked approvingly at the baby. "Very nice. Hey, Donna, think Gary would do
a christening gown?"
"Possibly, once he sees how gorgeous she is!" Donna exclaimed as she took a peek
over Matt's shoulder. "Josh, have you ever seen such a beautiful baby?"
Josh, who was of the opinion that all babies looked pretty much alike, went
through the motions. "She's got, you know, hair and stuff."
"And fingers, and toes, and fingernails, and everything." Nina traced the baby's
mouth with one finger. "We're naming her Helen. That was my mother's name."
Tears filled Nina's eyes and slipped down her cheeks. "I wish she could be here
to see this..."
"You're worn out. We'll come back tomorrow, okay?" Donna, whose eyes were
shining with sympathetic tears, embraced Nina and motioned for the men to come
with her.
"I'm sorry - I'll be better tomorrow. And Sam, will you tell them?"
"Right." Sam nodded, still looking dazed, and stepped into the hall with his
friends.
"Tell us what?" Josh asked, dipping his chin as he examined Sam's face for any
sign of trouble.
Sam cleared his throat. "We're going to have the christening on Thursday, if
Nina's up to it. Just for family, at St. Stephen's."
"I can help Ginger with the arrangements," Donna volunteered, but Sam cut her
off with a smile and a shake of his head.
"I need you to do another job for me. I'd like you to be Helen's godmother."
That started the waterworks for real. Donna hiccupped as she threw her arms
around Sam and whispered that she'd be honored.
Patting Donna's back, Sam said that Helen would need a godfather as well. "Matt?
Would you be willing?"
Matt glanced from Sam to Josh, then back to Sam. "With pleasure," he said, but
his voice sounded questioning.
Abstracted as Sam was, he picked up on the hint. "Josh, you know that there's no
one in the world I--"
"I understand, Sam. It's okay." He smiled even though he was more than a little
hurt. "Really."
"No, it's not," Sam sighed. "But the religion thing. You wouldn't be comfortable
raising a Gentile child, Josh. Besides, Toby would kick your ass if you tried
it."
"More than likely. Don't worry, Sam. I got to be your best man. I can settle for
second-best man. And you know I won't love Helen any less, right?"
"I know that. Thanks for understanding." Sam inclined his head toward Nina's
room. "I don't want to leave her by herself - will you visit in the morning?"
"Wouldn't miss it." Matt put his arm around Donna's shoulder and turned her in
the direction of the elevator. Josh followed behind and got into the elevator
with them.
"You handled that really well," Donna said after a few quiet moments, and to
Josh's surprise she reached for his hand and threaded her fingers through his.
"I'm very proud of you."
"Thank you," he said quietly, and for the first time in two years the veil of
awkwardness between them began to lift.
At least until he saw Matt looking at him with a combination of skepticism and
alarm.
***
St. Stephen's Church
***
Helen reacted with remarkable aplomb as she was christened, squirming just a
little in Donna's arms while the priest blessed her. Matt, who held Helen's
tiny hand, grinned broadly when the baby's eyes focused on him. They returned
Helen to her parents at the reception and turned around as Bartlet lifted a
glass of champagne.
"We're here to celebrate new life, of course, but there's more than one meaning
to that. I'd like to start by recognizing a few new things and the people who
brought them about. New life's right here among us, and new beginnings, and even
a new direction for our beloved nation. To Josh, Toby, and the bottle of
Glenlivet that Donna sent for Toby's birthday, the bottle of Glenlivet that Nina
sent for Toby's birthday, and the fact that C.J. was in San Francisco on Toby's
birthday, thereby leaving an opportunity for the consumption of Glenlivet and
the making of history." He paused while everyone laughed. "It didn't hurt that
Sam was a little preoccupied that night, either.
"But I digress. We're here to launch Helen into the world, the face that
launched a thousand ships, and the little hand that's pulling on her daddy's tie
in such an enchanting fashion." He took the white-clad bundle from her father
and held her in his own arms. "What a life you'll have, my beautiful little
angel, with your mommy's curls and your daddy's big blue eyes. You'll have their
music and words, all the best of art and philosophy, all at your tiny
fingertips. Although your daddy may be so busy ridding the house of gentlemen
callers that you might not see as much of him as you'd like. But his protective
love will be there with you, and his conscience, and your mother's intelligence
and unwavering devotion. You'll have Donna and Matt as spiritual guides, and no
finer examples are there in the world. With witty, clever Aunt C.J. at your
side, you'll never be at a loss for words. Even less so around your Uncle Toby.
Although he may teach you some words your parents would just as soon you didn't
use."
Toby glowered, but he didn't fool anyone.
"God only knows what Uncle Josh has in store for you. Possibly a city council
job instead of a lemonade stand. And don't forget about Abbey and me, the extra
set of grandparents who aren't afraid of diapers, fifth grade math homework,
first love, or those little rubber bands they put on braces." Jed leaned over
and kissed Helen's rosy cheek.
"Welcome to the world, Helen Miranda Seaborn. Welcome to your family - and this
family, your extended one - and may you grow up in a house full of love,
gentleness, and peace."
As he brought the baby back to Nina, Bartlet paused with his hand on Sam's
shoulder. "I just hope that house is the big white one."
***
End "Healthy Irreverence."
To the next section: "The Surest Wisdom."