This one is written by KJ.

"Rebecca! Get out here!"

I looked up from her sandwich at the sound of my father's voice. "Yeah, why?" I responded, imitating his brusque manner, and grabbed the half finished meal and went on to the back porch. "Dad," I began, "Making a sandwich is a very delicate procedure that I would prefer to not be interrupted in. I can't cook. This is a widely known fact. And you insist on interrupting me in the middle of applying the mayo. I could have sliced something!"

"Cady Rebecca Zeigler. You are sounding thoroughly too much like CJ."

"Really? That's so sweet!" I exclaimed, with a mischievous grin.

"That's my girl!" came a welcome voice.

"Aunt CJ! You made it!" I jumped up, abandoning my sandwich, and ran at her with a hug, as if I hadn't seen her in years, even though CJ had dropped me off at school just that morning. CJ Cregg isn't really my aunt, she's my godmother, and she's more of mother than anyone I've known since Mom died of cancer three years ago.

CJ slid into a chair next to Toby's and I took the seat across from them, tucking her feet under her and retrieving the sandwich.

"So, Cady," said CJ, "How was school?"

I shrugged. "Oh, same old crap. Oh, right, not crap, same old excretion." CJ snickered and even Toby looked vaguely amused. I frowned suddenly, remembering. "Tomorrow is Take-Your-Daughter-To-Work-Day."

CJ smiled. "And your dad's too busy? Figures. I'll take you to my work. It'll be loads more fun than Toby's."

"Excellent!" I exclaimed. The phone rang, and I jumped up immediately. "I got it!"

"Incorrect grammar!" shouted Dad irately.

"I know!" I retorted, before shoving the sliding glass door out of her way to the combination living room, dining room, and kitchen.

"Zeigler. Speak," I said by way of greeting.

"Hey, Ceezee!" I knew that voice.

"Uncle Sam! Hi!"

"How's school?"

"Okay. Pretty boring. How's Washington?"

"Excellent, as usual. I'm visiting with some friends." Friends? I decided it was time to bring something up I wanted to find out about.

"Josh Lyman?" I asked.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Aunt CJ is going to see him in two weeks. After she takes me to Take Your Daughter to Work Day."

"She will?"

"Yes!"

"Fantastic! You know, we always thought your dad and CJ would get together some day."

"Aunt CJ? And Dad?"

"Yeah. We had a bet going."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The pot was pretty big."

"That's so cool!"

Dad looked in from the porch. "REBECCA! Who is it?"

I looked over. "IT'S UNCLE SAM!" I yelled back. Aunt CJ came over and forcefully took the phone from me. I mock scowled, flopping back into a chair. "Go out to your dad, Cadet," Aunt CJ said before speaking in the phone. I heard her say, "Sam? Put Josh on the line," before I went out.

The porch is one of my favourite places in our house. It's really big, but then again, the rest of the house is too. Dad really hit something when he got his job; he makes a lot of money. The porch looks out on the beach and the water, which seems to go on forever.

"Yo, Dad," I said, flopping down on a chair. I know he hates it when I say 'yo', which is probably why I say it.

"Rebecca," he said, "Look up. See over there? That's the North Star. Not to be confused with the Delta Shuttle from LaGuardia, which is over there." I shot my dad a strange look. "Don't ask," he said. "Wasn't going to," I replied.

I suppose it would be good to explain why everyone calls me Cady, but my dad calls me Rebecca. When I was born, Mom and Dad hadn't even decided on a name yet. Mom wanted to name me Cady Eleanor, after Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Eleanor Roosevelt, and Dad wanted to name Rebecca, after his sister, who died of leukaemia when he was in his late teens. Mom is-was- a very good debater and Dad finally agreed to call me Cady Rebecca Zeigler. Mom wanted Wyatt, but Dad pointed out that she got the first name, so he got the last and middle. Mom didn't really feel like arguing, anymore, I guess, because it doesn't sound like her to just quit at it. I used to not like thinking about my mom, but now I think I'm getting better. Dad is too. We used to live in New York, but Dad thought it was too painful to keep living there. That's also why he calls me Rebecca. My mom and him used to call me by different names, and now dad continues the tradition, even though she isn't here anymore.

Aunt CJ came back out on the porch. "How's Josh?" asked Dad.

"Fine, as usual. Liz is with him this week."

"Who?" I asked.

"His daughter, Liz. She's about your age, maybe a little older."

"Oh," I said.

"Anyway," Aunt CJ continued, "I'm going over to visit them on Thursday."

"Who, what, where, when, why?" I asked again, seeing how irritated I could make them.

"Josh Lyman, visiting, Washington, Thursday, because we're friends and I haven't seen him in ages," Aunt CJ answered without skipping a beat.

"But you were supposed to be there for the dance tryouts!" I complained. I was trying out for a part in a major ballet that winter, and Aunt CJ usually took me and helped me get ready and everything. She used to be a ballet dancer, but she stopped when she got too tall. I don't think I'm in danger of that.

"I'm sorry, Cadet, but it's the only time I can get over to the east coast without work minding. But I'll tell you what. I'll call you right before and give you your pep talk, okay?"

"Okay," I said, mock sighing.

Dad rolled his eyes. "Now that you're done, don't you have some homework to do, Rebecca?"

"I'm finished!"

"Yes, don't you have some homework to do?"

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Fine, fine," I relented, going up to my room. I call my room 'the tower' for a reason. It's two flights up from the ground floor, and its circular, and I have my own little apartment-type thing up there. I have my room, which has a connected walk in closet and bathroom, and a little room that I call my 'living room'. I flopped onto a chair in the living room and grabbed my phone from nearby to ring my best friends, Ethan, Jack, and Nina. 

We talked for an hour or so and then I hung up and stared at the ceiling for a while, wondering about what Dad's life at the White House was like. I've only met a couple of the people, Aunt CJ, Aunt Donna, Uncle Sam, Dad, Leo McGarry (and that was only three times), and Abbey Bartlet. I met her when Mom died, along with Mr. McGarry. Former President Bartlet was there when I wasn't, so I never met him. Josh Lyman, the person Aunt CJ was going to visit, never comes to visit Dad, so I've never met him.

The next morning I was woken by the sound of my cat, Eleanor Roosevelt II (Nora for short), meowing furiously.

"Shut up," I groaned, throwing a slipper in the general direction.

"Ow!" I knew that voice. Slowly I opened my eyes to the sight of my very tall godmother, with her eyebrows raised, looking down at me.

"Cady Rebecca Zeigler- have you been abusing the cat?" she asked inquisitively.

"Meep!" I said, "No, no, I haven't done anything, seriously, I just gently wanted to imply my displeasure- hey, why are you here?"

"Cadet, darling," said CJ, sitting on my bed, "Today is Tuesday. It is seven in the morning. You were supposed to be downstairs an hour ago."

I jumped out of bed and began rushing around the room, much to Aunt CJ's amusement. "I accuse you of having fun at my expense," I said, though I wasn't quite sure if she could understand me as I spoke it to my closet of clothes.

Aunt CJ laughed. "Wherever would you get that idea?"

"Oh, I don't know, the smirk, the laughter, could be some indication of enjoyment," I said.  Half an hour, three pieces of toast, a strawberry, 3 outfits, and several probes later we were in the car driving to her work.

"You don't have to take notes or anything?" she asked incredulously.

"No! Isn't it great?"

"I'm thinking Toby is paying way too much for a snobby private school for you."

"I'm thinking if you tell him I will switch I'll tell him about the time you told him you were taking me out to dinner and really took me to see a Broadway show."

"You underhand child."

"I learned it from you!"

"You bet, baby. Your dad certainly didn't teach it to you."

"No, from him I get my freakish grammar obsession, and my ability to write out loud."

"Because paper's for wimps."

"You got it," I replied. We turned into a parking garage at a very high speed and Aunt CJ swerved and jerked into her parking space. "Couldn't I, you know, do it myself?"

"I can think of other things you could do with yourself," Aunt CJ replied, sending me a glare.

"And there you go again with the feminista death ray face."

"And now you sound like Josh Lyman," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"Who's Josh Lyman?"

"He's a friend of your father's and mine."

"Where does he live?"

"In Washington."

"Why can't we move back to the East Coast?"

"That was an abrupt change of conversation."

"So why can't we?"

"Because I said so."

"That's not a good reason."

"It's a fine reason."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"You're being a bad influence."

"Cadet, you already are thoroughly corrupted."

"How come? 'Cause of the thing?"

"Yes. Because you can speak West Wing. That's why. Hello, children! CJ is here, you can all rest happily now," she said as we entered the office. Aunt CJ is the head PR person for movies. She hates it, but she can tolerate it. An intern hurried towards us.

"Miss Cregg? There is a meeting you need to attend on the fourth floor."

"I'll get to it. Cady, this is Janna. Janna, Cady," said CJ, introducing us, before whisking into the elevator.

"Your daughter looks just like you, Miss Cregg," gushed Janna before we got into the elevator. This comment caused us to dissolve into laughter.

"Well, Cadet, I'll drop you at my office and you can use the computer or whatever there, the meeting should only take around fifteen minutes."

"Okay," I replied. I stared out the window, thinking. 'Your daughter looks just like you.' 'We always thought your dad and CJ would get together someday.' 'Take your daughter to work day.' Suddenly I realized what I had to do.

I had to get Dad and Aunt CJ back together.