XX

Mallory and Steve were giggling outrageously together through the corridors of the hotel, Sam trailing a few steps behind. Her father emerged from the stairwell up ahead, and she grinned at him cheerfully. "Hey, dad."

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted her fondly. "Did you say goodbye to your mother?"

"Yeah, I caught her on the way out. Everything okay?"

"It's fine," he nodded. He appeared to notice for the first time that she had her arm linked through Steve's, and turned to give Sam a curious look. "What's going on there?" he enquired with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know, but it's scaring me a little," he admitted.

"Steve's my new best buddy," Mallory explained, raising their linked arms for emphasis.

"She has lots of fun stories that make Sam sound like an idiot," Steve added.

"So does he," she nodded brightly.

Sam leaned back against the wall, and shot her father a wry look. "I gotta tell you, it's a lot of fun being me right now."

"I'll bet." He turned back to look at her. "You wanna go get coffee or something, Mal?"

"Yeah, sure." She surprised Sam by leaning across and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. He blinked for a moment, and then beamed. Feeling suddenly magnanimous, she planted one on Steve as well, then did the same for her dad and wrapped him in a big hug.

"Hey, hey, what is this?" he grumbled, but only for effect.

Smiling, Steve took advantage of his release to slide an arm around his boyfriend. They grinned at each other for a moment, and then shared a brief, sweet kiss.

As they parted and Mallory released her dad, he pointed a warning finger at the two younger men. "Now, I love you both, but if either one of you even thinks about-"

"Behave yourself, daddy," she chided gently, giving him another squeeze.

Sam just laughed, and patted him briefly on the arm. "I'll see you tomorrow, Leo?"

"Yeah."

They went their separate ways, Mallory linking her arm through her dad's and walking with her head on his shoulder like she hadn't in a long time. He smiled softly at her. "You had a good time tonight?"

She nodded slowly to herself, surprised to find that it was true. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. I... I was kind of worried about meeting Sam," she admitted. "I mean, I mean- what do you say when a guy you almost dated suddenly discovers he's gay?"

He shot her a sardonic look. "Well, to be fair, if it was a guy I almost dated, it probably wouldn't be so much of a surprise."

"Dad!" She laughed and shook her head. "No, I just... It was stupid. I shouldn't have avoided him like that. That's why I wouldn't come see you at the White House, I didn't want to run into him with it all hanging out there - I was just so mixed up and mad..."

Her father was giving her an unreadable look. "That's why you didn't come visit me at work?"

She stopped walking. "Oh, dad," she groaned. "You didn't think-"

"Honey, I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again, the way I've let you down so many times," he told her candidly.

"Oh, dad," she sighed. "You know that's never gonna happen." She drew him into another, longer hug, and this time he abandoned his customary stiffness in the face of affection to hug her tightly back. Then he pulled away.

"Come on, Mal, let's go get that coffee."

"Okay." She followed her father.

Jed strolled through the night, enjoying the New Hampshire air. Leo would think he was crazy if he said so, but even the oxygen had a different flavour out here. A subtle hint to every breath that tasted like home, and like freedom.

His freedom was an illusion, of course, as was his solitude. The entire hotel grounds had been closed off to all but those few wedding guests high enough up the hierarchy to be staying at the hotel for the night. And just because, in the dark, he couldn't see the escort that shadowed him everywhere, that didn't mean he didn't know they were there.

But tonight, he didn't mind. In fact, when a tall figure detached itself from the shadows, he moved towards it.

"Ron," he greeted with a nod.

"Mr. President." The head agent straightened up, face as impassive as ever. Jed looked up at him.

"How are things going, Agent Butterfield?" he asked formally.

"Everything checks out, Mr. President," he nodded firmly. Always professional, never less than calm, never self-satisfied. "We have our people on the perimeter, the hotel is secure for the night."

"It's been a good day," he smiled. His daughter was married, the ceremony and the reception both had got off without a hitch or even a scare... Yes, it had been a very good day.

"Sir," the agent nodded.

Jed dipped his head respectfully in turn. "Very well done there," he acknowledged. "Very well done indeed."

He wandered off, leaving the Secret Service man standing alone, as vigilant as ever.

And now the room was empty, but for the two of them, and a tired-looking waiter collecting bottles from the tables. Toby crossed the room towards Andy, where she stood alone in the dimness.

She gave him a half-smile, and he leaned against the wall beside her. "Well. That's over," he observed neutrally.

"Yeah."

He asked if she was okay, without bothering to put the question into actual words. She read his gaze, and sighed softly.

"Just thinking."

"Weddings?"

"Children," she admitted, with the wistful tone that had always accompanied that word.

He looked at her. "It's not too late to try more."

She shot him a wry look. "With you?"

Toby gave a little half-shrug, that said he was the natural candidate and they both knew it. She sighed again.

"Toby... you know we weren't exactly the world's best couple."

"But we'd make great parents." He spoke softly, with the understated conviction he saved for things that were unquestionably true. Andy met his eyes.

"Toby, I... I admit I've... pretty much given up hope, this late in the day." The admission came haltingly, and he knew how much it pained her to make it.

"There's always hope," he said, allowing himself the platitude for the simple reason that he believed it.

"Not always," she corrected him, with a sad smile.

"There's adoption." The suggestion, once vehemently shot down, was met with no reaction, and he slid his gaze up to lock with hers. "I've been thinking about it," he admitted quietly.

She tilted her head in not-quite curiosity. "Toby, it's not your problem," she pointed out. "You can have kids. You could have your kids with anyone you wanted."

"I don't want my kids. I want our kids." He allowed the emphasis to fall into place on the second sentence, not looking away from her face.

Andy smiled for him, a fragile expression only a heartbeat away from tears, and looked down. "Toby... you know we can't seriously think about adopting. Our jobs..."

"Three years' time, I can be a stay-at-home dad," he pointed out. And why not? What was there, beyond the White House? Nothing in the world he walked in now, nothing in the realms of politics. And to take a lesser position, after this... No, there was no other way forward but to shed the Toby Ziegler he was now, and be a different man, with different challenges.

And why not this one? Why not?

"And in the meantime?" Andy asked him softly.

"Sometimes, miracles happen," he said quietly into the darkness. A reminder as much to himself as to her. They could wait and they could try and... sometimes, miracles happened.

Andy pulled away from the wall and turned to face him. "And what if there's no miracle, Toby? What if three years' time is too long to wait?"

He stepped forward, and took her hands in his. "Then you'll still be my wife, and I'll still be your husband."

She smiled gently at that, and he moved forward to give her a very delicate kiss. When he pulled back, her smile had widened. "You're a frustrating, self-righteous, curmudgeonly old crank," she informed him. "But I think I love you."

"How could you not?" he wondered, and she chuckled, shook her head, and laid her hands against his shoulders.

They kissed again, for real this time.

The door beside them swung open, letting in a flood of light, and Josh. "Hey, Toby- hey, Toby," he repeated, in a completely different tone.

Toby jerked an impatient thumb at him, and communicated the word 'out' by little more than telepathy.

It worked.

The door fell slowly closed again as Josh departed. They went back to the kissing.