Non Sum Qualis Eram part 5
By Ecri
See Part One for Disclaimer and Spoilers.
October 9
National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception
Leo looked around the church but saw very little. He knew it seemed full to capacity, but he found it hard to care. Unaware of what he was doing, he put his hand in his pocket and found the yarmulke. He'd forgotten about it. He found it hard to believe the man who had given it to him was dead.
His glance fell on the man standing next to him. Sam Seaborn was not the man Leo had at one time thought he was. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he'd judged the man by his looks. He'd seemed young and cocky, and Leo now realized that was because he had beenwell, young and cockyat the time. Sam Seaborn had proved himself to be a competent politician, a talented speechwriter, a confident spin doctor, and, still, after all this time, an idealistic young man. He was also one of the few people in the White House who could work closely with Toby Ziegler and remain all of those things.
Sam, also scanning the church's interior, felt Leo's eyes on him. He spared a look and a smile for the Chief of Staff. Seeming to come to a decision, Sam spoke. "I was thinking about what you asked me before–about have I been able to think of anything' and I said no. And you said, Neither have I and neither has the President.'"
Leo's heart skipped a beat. He remembered the conversation. He remembered the serious, secret things that had come up. It was a second before he could get air enough into his lungs to ask to continue. "Yeah, what about it?"
Sam paused, allowing a ghost of a smile to play across his face. "I wouldn't speak for anyone else, but you know I'm not done yet, right?"
Leo wasn't sure what he expected, but that hadn't been it. Inexplicably, he felt a flash of hope. Watching Sam play with the idea of solving serious problems, when he was more aware than he had likely ever been before of the shades of gray politicians faced, proved to Leo that he had been right. Sam had grown a lot in the last four years, and most of that, he would admit, had been in the last year.
Leo recalled the President telling him that he'd told Sam he would run for office one day, and he wondered how Jed Bartlet had figured this out before him.
**
October 9
Outside the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception
After the Red Mass
Sam heard someone call his name as he left the Shrine and headed for the President's Motorcade. Scanning the crowd, he was dazzled once again by the sight of Mallory O'Brien.
"Mal? I didn't know you were going to be here tonight."
"I managed to get a ticket. How are you holding up, Skipper?"
Sam glanced around to be sure no one had heard her. "Please, don't call me that in public."
She smiled, about to tease him, but the serious look on his face stopped her. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't know you didn't like me to call you that."
"You can call me that. When we're with friends, when we're aloneeven at the White House as long as it's not in front of the President and definitely not in front of the Press."
She nodded realizing how embarrassing that could have been for him. "Okay, Sam."
He grinned broadly at her, dazzling her with his smile. "You look wonderful." He told her.
"Thanks. Look, are you busy? I mean, if you are, it's okay, but if not, do you want to"
"Yes." He cut her off, and impossibly, his grin grew bigger and more irresistible.
"Yeah?" She asked again, at a slightly higher pitch. "Great! Good!"
"I have to go back with the Motorcade. I'll pick up my car and meet you" he trailed off, not sure if this would work for her.
"Sure. I'll meet you at my apartment." She supplied the location, hoping he would understand that this would be a date. A late one, certainly, but a date nonetheless. "We can go out for coffee."
"Coffee. Okay. I'll meet you in a half-hour."
Mallory nodded.
Leo, watching from a safe distance, was more pleased than Sam would ever know.
**
October 15
Air Force One
Toby grabbed his briefcase as the plane touched down. "Sam," he called to his deputy, who was still scribbling notes on a legal pad. The long yellow pages were quickly filling up with line after line of Sam's hurried cursive.
"Yeah?" Sam asked, not looking up as Toby paused by the younger man's seat. "I'm going to try to get the President to start today. Will you be ready?"
Sam's mouth quirked into a lopsided smile, not at all like his usual display. Easily, he slipped into a dead on perfect imitation of Governor Ritchie. "I believe I am up to the challenge."
"Okay, see, this isn't the Rich Little show. This is serious. It took a lot of work to get the President to agree to this" He paused searching for the phrase.
"Debate camp." Sam supplied the term with a helpful look on his face, the lopsided grin growing.
Toby nodded considering the words. "Debate camp" he said, as if he were unconvinced, but had no better words. "My point is, don't do the debate like that. You'll have the staff rolling in the aisles, and it will take twice as long to get anything done."
Sam stood, having finally gotten his belongings in order. "I've got it under control, Toby."
"I hope so." As they walked, Toby considered what Sam had said. "How do you do that?"
"What?"
"Sound like Ritchie."
"I am a man of many talents, Toby."
"Seriously. Who else can you do?"
"I don'tI can't" He was suddenly flustered.
Toby grinned. "Can you do the President?"
"I really wish you wouldn't put it quite that way."
"Can you?"
Sam turned around and grinned in a way Toby had never seen before, gleeful, surely, but there was a hint of conspiratorial fun, and diabolical craftiness.
Toby laughed. "I really have to see that sometime."
**
Debate Camp
Donna watched the debate from the back of the room, watching everyone and everything, trying to guess what objections each would have. Often, she was right. When she wasn't, she tried to follow the logic of it all. Now, her attention on Sam, she wasn't surprised that he had been chosen to take Ritchie's side. He knew the politics inside out. His responses and rebuttals seemed to come straight from the Governor's mouth.
As Sam switched, launching into a possible answer President Bartlet could give, the President cut him off in irritation.
"Are you doing me?"
"I may have slipped into it, sir." Sam agreed, slightly chagrinned.
Donna laughed with the rest of the room at Bartlet's indignation at being mimicked, but more at Sam's uncanny impersonation.
In moments, the mock debate had broken up with the President called away to handle the affairs of State. As he left, Leo reminded the President he still had 47 hours and 41 minutes out of 48 hours to go.
Most of the people in the room took the opportunity to find coffee or refreshments of some kind, but Senior Staff stayed behind, so Donna did, too. She told herself she should be nearby if Josh needed her.
Sam stood with Toby near the stage going over notes. She watched him adjust his glasses, and brush a wayward lock of hair off his forehead, before settling into some sort of a debate with his boss. Toby seemed frustrated about something they were writing, but his gaze kept straying over to Andi Wyatt. Donna watched as Sam's gaze followed Toby's and a grin spread across his face. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but Toby was distinctly uncomfortable. It was the grin on Sam's face that held her mesmerized. She hadn't seem him smile in so long, she'd forgotten what he looked like when he was happy. He'd been glum most of the year. It still pained her to think of how she had treated him when her friend Stephanie had come to him, but
"Dooonnnaaa!"
Startled to hear Josh calling her name, she immediately headed in his direction. "What?"
"Didn't you hear me? I called you a bunch of times."
"A bunch of times? It's so obvious that you're not the speechwriter."
"You were daydreaming again, weren't you?"
"Not really."
"Then what?"
"None of your business. What do you need?"
"Call Congressman Wilde's office and tell him we got his messages, but the President won't be making any stops in Orange County."
Donna nodded, still slightly distracted by thoughts of Sam. She hoped he had indeed forgiven her. She really didn't think he was like that. Sam was a good guy.
She ran off to make Josh's phone call.
**
Donna headed directly for her boss as soon as she spotted him. "Josh?" She sat next to the Deputy Chief of Staff as he watched Sam lead a small group in singing Gaudeamus Igitur.
"What?"
"Wilde's office says they want more promises from the White House."
"They want what?" Josh gave her his full attention. "They're the California 47th! They can't think they're gonna win!"
"He didn't say, but he said they could at least get the Vice President if the President's not going to come."
Josh shrugged. "Tell them we'll pass that along to the Vice President's office. Then send a memo to Hoynes."
Donna nodded and made a note. Sam was still singing, and she felt her gaze drawn to him. "They're not bad!" She laughed at the sight of the smile on Sam's face, as they neared the end of their rendition.
Josh laughed as they finished, ignoring Donna's comment, and breaking into applause with the rest of the crowd.
Sam sat down next to Donna, and reached for a drink. "Hey, Donna."
"That was great, Sam." Her face was flushed from laughing.
He shrugged it off as if it had been nothing at all. "Listen, Josh, when you have a minute, Toby needs the rest of the information on the Campaign Finance Reform."
"He'll have it tomorrow. I'm gonna turn in."
"What about Team Toby?"
"I forgot about that. Is he gonna let us?"
Sam grinned, and Donna was surprised at how easily he seemed to do that now.
"He doesn't get a vote."
"What's Team Toby?" Donna asked, smiling.
"That's a secret." Josh stood, grabbing his drink.
"Yeah, I'll tell you later!" Sam added, brushing Donna's hand as he stood to follow Josh.
Donna stared after them, not even realizing that she followed a different deputy with her eyes than she once had.
**
Two Days Later
Andi Wyatt stared across the table at her ex-husband wondering how they had gotten to this point. They were seeing more and more of each other, and she was surprised to find she enjoyed his company. It felt like it had in the beginning when they'd first met and first married. Not that there weren't arguments. Andi knew of no one who knew Toby who hadn't at one time or another had a knockdown drag-out with him. Toby was at his best when he was fired up.
Now, he was being uncharacteristically introspective. His fingers played with the long neck of his beer bottle, as his eyes darted around the room taking in everything from the crowded bar to the couple seated near the door who were gazing so deeply into each other's eyes they were most likely unaware they were still in a public place. He'd confessed to her his fears that the President wouldn't win reelection. He wasn't sure there was enough spin in the world to correct the President's image, though, he conceded, they'd made a great deal of progress, due, in large part to Sam Seaborn's impromptu idea of last June. Trapping Ritchie in an offer of debate had been a masterstroke, and Andi had been impressed.
June was a long way away, though. The President's actual debate with Ritchie was coming up, and Toby was more than a little concerned that Josiah Bartlet, a man who did not suffer fools gladly, would find himself unable to control his responses to the GOP bait.
The debate camp had been a mixed bag. In some ways, it had assuaged any doubts, but in others, it had raised them.
"You need to step back, Toby."
Toby's chuckle was full of irony rather than humor. "You've been saying that to me forever. In this situation, I don't see what it is you think I don't see."
Andi smiled. "That's why you need to step back. President Bartlet isn't an idiot, and even those who don't agree with him, know that."
"Yes, I will grant you that, but a lack of stupidity hasn't always guaranteed the win in a Presidential Election."
"Have you done all you can?"
"What?"
"Is there anything you haven't done that would improve your chances?"
"I've been going over that for weeks. I can't think of anything."
"Then you shouldn't worry about something if you can't affect the outcome."
"You're getting all Zen on me now?"
"Let's not talk about politics."
"What else is there to talk about."
When she smiled, a mischievous light filled her eyes. "I'm sure we can come up with something."
**
To Be Continued
