Non Sum Qualis Eram Part 2

See part one for disclaimers/spoilers, etc.

NOTE: This is short, but I thought you might all like an update.

**

Later that Day

"And that's really all I have." CJ announced, as she checked her clipboard.

"CJ?"

"No questions, guys. I'm going to my seat. I'll be back after takeoff." She turned and headed out of the press area of Air Force One glad no one had pressed her for more.

She was actually sorry to be going home. With the convention over, there was little else she could think about other than the pending court appearance of her stalker. Her stalker. She hated that she even thought of him in that way. It was like he was exclusive to her. He belonged to her, and, in an odd way, she belonged to him. She shuddered, sinking back into her seat, and resting her head in her hand.

CJ recalled talking to Simon about this once, and he had been sympathetic. That had surprised her in a way–almost as much as she had surprised herself by asking him to let her shoot his gun. It wasn't that she had thought he'd be hard hearted about it, or insensitive to her feelings. It had simply been that she had expected, at most, a simple, that's understandable,' or a that's a common feeling for people in your situation.' Instead, he'd shut the door to her office, sat down across from her, and listened to every word she had to say. Then, he'd actually tried to help.

Settling in the chair in front of her desk, Simon looked her in the eye in that unnerving, straightforward way he had. "This guy, whoever he is, he's getting off on making you jumpy. He wants you to feel this way. The trick is not to let him."


CJ snorted.

Smiling, Simon nodded. "I know it's easier said than done, but you have something he didn't count on."

"What's that?"

"You have me to look out for you."

Their eyes locked. Her heart skipped a beat as she considered what he'd said.

"That is, you have me andyou knowthe rest of the detail." He cleared his throat. "Iwon't let anything happen to you."

CJ smiled, feeling some tension drain away, though why she felt better, she couldn't really say. "I appreciate that."

CJ stared out the small window of Air Force One, seeing nothing but reflections of the plane's interior in the black night sky beyond. She considered letting Carol handle the press for the rest of the trip, but brooding wasn't her favorite pastime. After takeoff, she headed back to see if there were any more questions.

**

Leo shut the door to the President's Air Force One office behind him as he went off in search of Sam and Toby. He expected they would be busy working on the next set of speeches.

Sure enough, he found the pair in the conference room working on something. They both looked at him expectantly when he entered. "Sam, Toby, good work on the acceptance speech. The President really liked it." He smiled. "He said he made sure there was pie aboard before we took off. His way of thanking you."

Toby sighed. "Leo, the thing is I"

"We're glad he liked it, Leo. We both put in a lot of hours on it."

Leo nodded, noting that something strange seemed to pass between the two, and that, from the look on Toby's face, the older man was losing for once. He stepped back into the corridor thinking it would do both of them good if Sam won a few arguments now and then. He chuckled softly as he went back to work.

"Sam" Toby's voice was somewhere between hostile and defeated. "You shouldn't keep doing this. You can't lie to the Chief of Staff."

"I didn't lie to him. I told him we both put in a lot of hours on the speech. We both did. We just didn't use very much of what you wrote."

Toby looked up at the younger man in wonder. "That's the most lawyerly evasion of the truth I've ever heard from you."

"There's no need to be insulting. I'm only trying to help."

"Sam, this isn't something you can help me with. I've lost it."

"It's just a slump."

"I've been in this slump since before the State of the Union!" Toby rose from his chair and began to pace the length of the room. I don't even know what the problem is. I can't even tell why this is happening."

"It's just a slump." Sam insisted. "I don't believe your talent has dried up, and I don't think you believe it, either. You've had slumps before."

"Not for this long, Sam. I can't put together a good speech. I'm passable on short statements, but the actual speeches" He shook his head. "There's nothing there."

"For now. It's just for now. So what if this is the longest slump you've ever had? You do still have the talent. You can still do the job. Your short statements and position papers are still good."

"They're not great."

"Toby, you always told me you can't hit a homerun every time. Sometimes it's the bunt that wins the game."

"This isn't a gamethis is speechwriting for the President of the United States!"

"You'll get your swing back."

"And if I don't?"

Sam was a little disturbed. Toby's attitude was one he never would have conceived the Communications Director would adopt. Toby was the best speechwriter on the planet, and the fact that he really thought he couldn't write another word was enough to make Sam want to hang up his own pen. He forced a smile on his face that didn't reach his soul. "If you don't, no one else ever needs to know."

Toby shook his head. "No."

"What?"

"No way are you going to cover my ass for the rest of your career! If the President wins reelection, and I don't get it back before the inauguration, I'm going to retire and recommend you for my job."

Sam took a step back as if equally surprised, pleased, and frightened by that thought. He shook it off, knowing, believing unconditionally, that this would never happen. "It's just a slump."

Toby nodded, and sat again looking over their notes for the President's next speech. "Let's get back to work on this."

Sam wanted to say something to remind Toby how good he was. He had to make the man understand that he was talented, and that even long slumps eventually broke. Toby had taught him almost everything he knew about speechwriting. Toby had an innate ability to make a bad speech good and a good speech great. How could he remind the man that as good as Sam was himself, Toby was better? He was

"Whatever you sayBatman." Sam smiled as he said it, and couldn't have been more surprised than when Toby smiled back.

**

Vice President's Office

The Next Day

John Hoynes stared at his new Press Secretary. He finally had to ask the question. "What are you talking about, Mike?"

Michael Beller knew Hoynes wouldn't like this, but he had to know up front what they had to work with. "Are we sure that Bartlet will back you."

"Are we sure he'll back me? Of course he'll back me. I'm his Vice President!"

"I was under the impression that the two of you don't get along."

Hoynes turned to his Chief of Staff with a pleading look in his eye.

"Mike, the President and the Vice President have a working relationship. They aren't best friends, but they're not enemies either." Nicholas Lacey chose his words a little too carefully for the Vice President's taste.


"Oh, for the love oflisten up everyone. The President is firmly on my side. He wants me to be President. He wants me as his Vice President. Can we please move on to something meaningful." He turned towards his Chief of Staff again. "Nick, have you gotten any results on the polls?"

Nick nodded, passing a stack of memos around the table. "The number one concern so far is that the public perceives you as corporate. You're viewed as a rich guy out of touch with the problems of most people."

Hoynes considered that. It wasn't a surprising perception. He was from Texas and had ties to oil companies. That in itself was enough for some people to see him as rich and out of touch. "Okay. What else?"

Nick looked at Mike.

Hoynes smiled. "I'm over here, Nick. Don't pull your punches. Tell me."

Nick continued, but he wasn't happy. Still, he looked Hoynes directly in the eye. That was why he was Chief of Staff. "You are largely perceived as an unknown quantity. People are no longer sure where you stand. This might be largely because of your time with President Bartlet. He's had you publicly defending his positions, and frankly, the voters aren't sure what you believe. That's gonna be our biggest priority; getting your positions out there."

"Then we're going to have to sit down and define my position on the biggest issues."

"That's education, defense, Medicare, the environment, gun control, crime, campaign finance reform." Mike scribbled on a legal pad as he spoke.


"Mike, we know what the issues are."

"Oh. Of course."

"So, we need to get the people to understand who I am. Sounds like we need to give an interview."

"Way ahead of you, boss." Nick chuckled as he passed a memo to Hoynes. "I've set up an interview for a magazine article. Cover story. It's going to be printed just before the election. We'll need you to meet with the reporter soon."

Hoynes skimmed the pertinent details from the page Nick had handed him. "Time Magazine. Cover?"

Nick nodded.

"Okay," Hoynes glanced around the room. "Well, that looks like a good start. By the time the President is making his Inaugural address, I want the people of this country to have as strong an idea of who I am as they do of him."

Mike nodded emphatically. "I'm sure we can do that, sir."

Hoynes watched them leave his office. He had more work to do. He might have polling numbers, but there were still a few opinions he needed.

**

The Next Day

White House

Office of the Press Secretary

"Thanks, Ron. I'll wait for you in my office. See you in 20 minutes." CJ hung up the phone. She knew it had been pointless to hope the proceedings would be cancelled. She hadn't even realized that she was hoping just that until Ron had confirmed the time and reminded her that he would be accompanying her to the courthouse.

CJ was as scared now at the thought of facing herthe stalker as she had been when Ron Butterfield had first showed her the photographs that had instigated her protection.

All through the aftermath of the New York trip, she'd avoided seeing any pictures of the man. She'd managed to deflect the questions of the press with a few words about Secret Service involvement and procedures. She'd managed to get through Simon's funeral, and had somehow gotten Charlie involved with Anthony, Simon's Little Brother.

All the while, she'd waited for the time when she could put it all behind her. She thought at first that it would be after the funeral. Then she thought she could call it over when she found Anthony another Big Brother. After that, she had managed to forget for awhile, but it was more of a suppression of the facts and feelings than an actual moving past them.

Notification of the first court date had been unwelcome at first, but soon she'd decided that it was just what she needed to truly put the entire incident behind her. When it had been postponed, she hadn't been sure what she felt. Not disappointment exactly, but not a reprieve, either. The second date had been harder, since the postponement came not weeks before the date, but hours.

This time, she'd convinced herself that it would be caught up in red tape and legal knots until well after President' Bartlet's second term had ended. Ron's appearance with the news had shocked her. Somehow this all felt so much more real to her than the last time. She laughed a humorless laugh as that thought reminded her of another conversation with Simon.

"Can you please not fight me on this? I need to know, so you need to tell me. I'm here to protect you!"

"I know why you're here! I couldn't forget it if I tried!"

"Is that what this is? You're trying to forget why I'm here?" His frustration seeped into his voice and his mannerisms as he ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I'd like to be able to tell you that I need to know your schedule and if you're going to lunch or shopping with your niece for a junior prom dress without having to defend the procedures!"

She nodded. "I understand. It won't happen again."

"Can I hold you to that?"


She nodded, but he could tell her heart wasn't in it. He had seen her belligerent, furious, nonchalant, playful, focused, calm, frenzied, jetlagged, and flirtatious. This was the first time he'd seen her truly scared. "What is it?" He asked, not sure she'd tell him.

It was his turn to be surprised when he got honesty instead of sass. "It's too real."

"Excuse me?"

"Having you here, that's okay, because I can make myself believe it's part of the job. When I have to have you come to a dress shopif it invades what I laughingly call my life as opposed to my workit's too reallike if I know too much about the stalker, his name or what he looks likethen it's real."

"I promise not to make you learn his name when we catch him."

"Can I hold you to that?"

"Sure, but you can't hold my superiors to that."

Naturally, his superiors had told her his name. She knew more about him than she'd ever thought she would. Name, height, weight, eye color, hair color, education, political affiliationthanks to CNN, she'd actually seen 5 minutes of a report about the man before she'd been able to put aside the morbid fascination and change the channel.

The thought of facing him in that court, even with Ron Butterfield standing nearby, made her want to screamor hit something. Idly, she wondered where Josh was.

"It's not going to be that bad, CJ."

Startled that someone had managed to walk into her office without her noticing, she turned towards the door.

"Sam?" She noticed that Sam looked impeccable today, which he usually did, but his suit seemed new, the tie bright and crisp, and the way he carried himself was the way he did when he was called upon to be, as Donna had once described it to her, lawyerly.

Sam smiled reassuringly. "It won't be that bad, CJ. I spoke to Ron"

"Wait a minute." She frowned. "You spoke to Ron? Ron Butterfield?"

"Yeah. The thing is, I think when we go"

"When wewhere are we going?"

"Your court date" he couldn't say stalker, so he changed gears. "The guy. The one" He looked at her and his nervousness over the subject faded when he realized she was still scared. "CJ, this guy is nothing. He's not worth yoursaliva. I won't say there's nothing to be scared of. The guy tormented you. He caused a great deal of upheaval in your life. The thing is" He took her hand and looked her in the eye. "You don't have to face him on your own."

When she didn't reply, he let go of her hand and pulled a folder from his briefcase, hiding behind the things he knew best, and hoping she wasn't going to send him away. She could see the folder was labeled simply CJ. "I've taken the liberty of looking into a few things. This isn't going to be as bad as you think. His lawyer is trying to get him off by presenting a case of insanity, but the prosecutor is good. His conviction rate is impressive, and Judge Matthews has a record of being particularly tough on these kinds of cases"

As he spoke, CJ felt a smile tugging at her lips. "Spanky?"

Sam pushed his glasses back from where they'd slid on his nose. "Yes?"

"You looked into thisthe records, the conviction ratesfor me?"

"Partially."

She narrowed her eyes, still staring at him, expecting more of an explanation.

He didn't disappoint her. "I did it for me, too." He adjusted his glasses again self-consciously. "CJ, you asked us not to talk about it while it was going on, truthfully, I don't think we really could have anyway. The thing is that, though we didn't talk about it, I, at least, thought about it. You're important to us, and you shouldn't have to face this on your own. There are two things you need. A lawyer who understands what's being said and can let you know how things are going, anda friend. I hope I can be the first for you. I already am the second."

Her smile broadened as she stared in wonder at this man. He was one of the busiest men in the country, and he hadn't had a day off in more than two weeks. She'd heard he was apparently having some kind of a personal problem with his girlfriend. She knew from Donna that he'd been working on something to do with the President's Medicare proposal. Given all of that and whatever things she knew nothing about, he had made the time to research thewho had been invading her thoughts as effectively as he had invaded her life.

"Thanks, Sam."

"You're welcome."

"He's not worth my saliva?"

"He really isn't."

"Whatever you say, Spanky."

"I thought that had gone away."

She actually snorted before replying. "Not in your lifetime."

**

To Be Continued