II
"You're making a big mistake," Steve warned.
"I don't care." Sam knotted his tie in the front of the mirror, ignoring his boyfriend's reflected face as he hovered behind his shoulder.
"Sam-"
"Look, I said I was gonna do it, I'm gonna do it, okay?" he said firmly.
"I wish you wouldn't."
"Well, you know, I don't really see what it has to do with you, anyway."
Steve massaged his forehead. "This is because I said-"
"It's my decision. You were fine with it when I told you Friday."
"Yeah, but I didn't expect it to last this long."
Sam narrowed his eyes. "You think I've got no sticking power?"
"I think this is a terrible idea."
"Well, I don't."
"Sam, trust me, don't do it. I say this for your own protection."
Sam folded his arms. "Steve, you're not talking me out of it."
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Fine. Whatever. But don't say I didn't warn you." He leaned forward to give him a goodbye kiss. Sam looked at him curiously as he pulled back, probably expecting him to make some comment, but he refused to give him the satisfaction. "Bye, Sam."
Sam hesitated, and gave him a slightly sheepish smile. Somehow he seemed to feel the need to be apologetic about arguing even when he was sure he was right. "See you tonight?"
"Get ready to hear the 'I told you so's," Steve warned. Sam rolled his eyes, and left.
Alone, Steve shook his head, and strolled resignedly back to bed. Well, he'd tried to warn him... what more could he do?
Toby appeared in her office with his usual bright smile and sunny disposition.
"It's early. Why am I here?" He stomped over to her desk. CJ smirked at him.
"I'm sorry, did I drag you away from Andy?"
"No."
She peered at him over the top of her glasses. "Well, Jeez, Toby, why the hell not?" she demanded, rolling her eyes.
"We're taking things slowly."
"You need some time to get to know each other?" she asked sardonically.
"You can't just walk up to your ex-wife and say 'marry me again'."
"How can you be so sure?" she wondered.
"'Cause I already tried that."
CJ frowned. "What did she say?"
"She didn't."
"Well, that's always a good sign."
"Andy wants to make sure of my intentions," said Toby wryly. "She's yet to be fully convinced we're on the same wavelength."
"What makes her say that?"
"Experience, mostly," he said dryly. "She says she needs to know I'm doing this for the right reasons."
"Well, why are you doing this?" CJ asked him.
"Because I want to."
She raised an eyebrow. "I'm amazed you haven't bowled her over with your irrefutable logic."
"The bowling over is a work in progress," he shrugged.
CJ offered a small smile of understanding, and shifted subjects. "So. The book."
"It's here?"
"People will have been reading. All quiet on the western front so far, but..." She shrugged expressively.
"How long?"
"It starts hitting the net today, I could be hearing the question tomorrow," she warned.
Toby grimaced. "There should have been more preparation than this."
"We have to look after the president, Toby," she reminded him.
"It helps him to have his staff kept in the dark until the absolute last minute?"
"Toby, this isn't..." She pulled a frustrated face. "This isn't something he can talk about."
"I'm thinking if it makes the international news, it's gonna be a talking point."
That, unfortunately, was nothing but the unvarnished truth. "He's not taking any questions," CJ said sharply. "I don't care if we have to keep him locked in the Oval Office for the next three years, he is not taking any questions on this."
Toby gruffly nodded his assent, although they both knew that resolution was mostly wishful thinking. They could refuse to schedule press conferences and hustle the president away from shouted questions at airports, but they couldn't sever his contact with the media if they wanted to, and sooner or later, if the press wanted to get that question through, they would get it.
But meanwhile, they were his faithful footsoldiers, and they'd protect him as best they could.
"Have you spoken to him?" Toby asked. CJ only winced in answer; it wasn't exactly a conversation she was looking forward to.
Toby made an eloquent little half shrug gesture that somehow got across that he'd offer to do it if they didn't both know that was a terrible idea. Toby's habit of speaking with blunt pragmatism had done enough damage in this delicate subject area already.
"You've got somebody monitoring the websites?" he asked after a few moments.
"I put Carol on it." This wasn't a duty she'd trust to the usual neverending pool of faceless interns.
"Okay." He turned to go. CJ hesitated, and then called out to him.
"Toby!" He looked at her. "I hope you two crazy kids work it out this time."
He nodded slowly, and sighed. "I think Andy's beginning to remember why she married me." He gave a wry smile. "It's just that she hasn't forgotten why we got divorced."
He left.
"Josh Lyman's office?"
"Hi, Donna." Despite herself, Abbey had to smile in wonderment at the younger woman's bright, efficient tone. She couldn't begin to imagine what it took to deal with Josh Lyman this early in the morning.
"Good morning ma'am- Abbey." She'd insisted on that correction immediately, but although their first such phone conversation had been months ago, Donna still hadn't trained herself into it. She seemed to find it freshly surprising every time that the First Lady would want to talk to her.
Abbey had been sceptical of this arrangement when CJ had first suggested it - not because she was at all doubting of Donna's competency, but because it seemed completely unfair to charge her with the duty of unofficial president-sitting on top of her already far beyond reasonable workload.
She'd changed her tune the minute she realised exactly how perceptive the younger woman was when it came to her husband's subtle shifts in mood. Apparently, despite Josh's notorious inability to keep his emotions off his face, there were skills involved in Lyman-watching that translated.
Abbey quite often - although not as often as Jed's paranoia led him to believe - kept a remote check on how her husband was doing in her absence via a few well-meaning observers. Unfortunately, most of them were unable to distinguish any level of mood beyond the most obvious states of "bouncy", "shouting", "sulking" and "oh God, get me out of here, he's talking about fjords again".
Donnatella Moss, however, could read him with an accuracy it took most people decades to learn.
"How's he doing, Donna?"
There was a short pause while Donna considered her answer, and she could hear the tapping of typewriter keys.
"He was quite cheerful Sunday. Josh took over the figures on the farming subsidies and he kept him there for hours talking about crop rotation. I think he was a bit lonely, actually."
Many people would have laughed aloud at the idea that the President of the United States of America could ever be given opportunity to get lonely, but Abbey understood. Jed didn't just thrive on intellectual conversation, he needed it. His constant diverging into streams of trivia wasn't merely the geekish showing off most people tagged it as, but a form of release; his brain boiled over with thoughts at times, and he needed to offload them on people or explode. Swarms of sycophants, hangers-on and over-helpful aides were exactly what he didn't want - he needed somebody to argue with and spark off.
"How about this morning?"
"I only saw him for a few minutes, but he seemed a bit subdued. Charlie looked more worried than stressed, so I'd guess he's brooding. He misses you," she added hesitantly.
"I miss him too," Abbey sighed. She paused, and then smiled. "Oh, and one last thing - what colour tie was he wearing?"
"Um, I'm sorry-?" Donna sounded like she thought she couldn't have heard right.
"Tie. Can you remember what one he was wearing?"
"The blue one, with the diamonds," she said, as if this was the kind of detail anybody would have registered. "Is that-?"
"Ah, I just want to mess with his head a little," she grinned.
There was a quick knock, and Lily appeared in the doorway, hovering. She knew she had to go. "Okay, thanks, Donna, I really appreciate it."
She hung up the phone, smiled resignedly at her aide, and echoed her husband's favourite words. "Okay. What's next?"