Non Sum Qualis Eram part 6
By Ecri
See Part One for Disclaimer and Spoilers.
**
November 5
Election Night
Election night was like a double-edged sword Toby mused as he stared at the television watching the last of the election results. He loved elections, lived for elections, yet sometimes, the anticipation, the inability to control any of it, the helplessness of having the country's fate hanging on the weather, the ability of the political parties to get their message across, or even whether or not voters felt like bothering with it at all made him crazy.
Trying to find a distraction, he glanced around. The bullpen was crowded. Staffers from other departments seemed to migrate to the area searching for solidarity among coworkers in these last moments when the work of months came to fruition
Toby wasn't even sure why he felt this way tonight. The numbers were good. They'd been close earlier on, but while both Bartlet's and Ritchie's had steadily risen, the Presidents had done so by leaps and bounds, while Ritchie's had evened out, rising only minutely as the evening wore on. Even so, something vague, something just out of grasp tickled at the back of his brain, notching the anxiety up by degrees.
The announcement came. In a seriously anticlimactic moment, CNN declared the winner. President Bartlet would remain President Bartlet. A cheer went up from the crowd as everyone began to talk at once, hug, and laugh.
After a brief celebratory embrace, Josh was torturing Donna about her inability to read a ballot. CJ was doing her best to defend the younger woman, who seemed to have exhausted her finer defenses and resorted to shouting, "Impervious," whenever Josh stopped to take a breath.
SamToby glanced around the room looking for his deputy, and finally spotted him through the door of his office. He was on the phone, but was pacing the room as far as the phone cord would allow. Even from here, Toby could feel the waves of tension rolling off the younger man. Puzzled, and wondering if this were a personal problem, Toby slid off the desk upon which he'd perched and ambled towards Sam's office.
As he drew closer, he could make out some of what Sam was saying.
"want to speak to her before she makes any announcements." Pause. "I didn't say that." Pause. "Of course, I" Pause. "I need to speak to the President before she takes the stage." Pause. "Because I'm not going to let him find out after the rest of the free world, that's why. I owe him that much." Pause. "No. I haven't." Pause. "Because it's not a done deal, yet."
Sam looked up to find Toby standing in his doorway. "When I say it is. Look, call me back in 15 minutes." Sam nodded, even though the person on the phone couldn't see it, and hung up.
"Sam?" Toby thought of saying more, but wasn't sure what to say. He was even less sure why words seemed to jam in his throat leaving him speechless.
"Toby." Sam stepped towards Toby and pulled him into the office, shutting the door behind him.
Toby was certain something was wrong. Sam never closed his door. The last time had been after the fiasco with Kevin Khan and the videotape. "What's going on, Sam?"
Sam ran a hand through his hair and leaned back against the door.
Toby wondered idly if Sam were unconsciously keeping something in or out. "Whatever's going on, you have to tell me now, because you're scaring me."
Sam looked startled, but pulled himself away from the door. "Toby" He stopped then muttered under his breath. "If this is this hard with you, I don't know how I'm going to tell the President."
"Tell us what, Sam?" Toby's mouth had gone dry, and his hands had gone cold. He took a step backwards away from Sam even as Sam took another step towards him. Something serious was about to happen. Something that could seriously alter his world. Toby hated that. Andi had altered his view of the world enough. As had the President when he'd first told Toby about the MSas had Leo when he'd first hired Toby, and then had not fired him when he'd let everyone else go.
"Toby, I think I may be running for Congress."
Toby stared at him a moment waiting for more. "You may be" He looked at his deputy, noting the anxiety in his face. "There's room for doubt?"
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sam wanted to laugh at the words and at Toby's expression, but all he could do was mentally acknowledge the surreal situation and try to explain.
"I went to Orange County last week"
"To talk to Wilde's campaign staff, right?"
"Yeah." He sighed. "They're doing a great job. They believe in what they're doing."
"Leo said you couldn't get them to abandon the campaign."
"I couldn't. The thing is Will said Wilde's widow wanted"
"Is this a tongue twister?"
"Toby, listen to me. She wanted a name. Someone in the party willing to run in the special election should her husband win. I told Will to give her mine."
Toby sat silently, understanding the words Sam had used, but finding their actual meaning incomprehensible. "Yougave her"
"My name. If Wilde wins, I'm committed to run for his seat."
"You are." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah." Sam waited for the yelling. He braced himself for a tirade he was sure only Josh would easily surpass. To his amazement, he didn't get it.
"Congressman Sam Seaborn."
Sam blinked. He hadn't actually hung the title on his name yet. He had to admit it sounded good to him. He grinned.
Toby grinned back. Then he chuckled.
Sam chuckled.
Toby stood and stepped to Sam's side. Sam stepped back, reminded of Toby's behavior at the play in New York earlier in the year. To the younger man's surprise, Toby engulfed him in an embrace. "Only you, Sam! You're going to run for congress accidentally!"
"Once again, you're very much freaking me out." Sam laughed with his boss, enjoying the release of the tension he'd kept to himself most of the day. Then, in realization of what Toby had said, he pulled away gripping the Communication Director's shoulders in alarm and panic. "Going to? You said going to. Did they call the race?"
Toby shook his head. "Too close to call the last I'd heard."
"Will's calling back in" he looked at his watch. "eight minutes. He's worried I'm going to back out."
"Why would he think that?"
"Probably because I asked him to hold the announcement until I speak to the President and the widow."
"Are you thinking of backing out?"
"Nonot reallyI just"
Toby knew what this was. Sam's loyalty to his President was threatening to override his loyalty to the people to whom he'd given his word. "Sam, why did you tell them you'd run?"
Sam instantly remembered what he'd told Donna when she'd asked him that same question. She was the only other person on the planet who knew. It had been such a relief to have someone to talk to, and it had been so easy to talk to her. The same words he'd used then came tumbling from his mouth now. "You have to understand, I never thought it would happen. I didn't think he'd win. I mean, a dead democrat in Orange County? Couldn't happen! It didn't cost me anything"
"That's not why."
"Excuse me?"
"That's not why you gave them your name. It's why you told yourself you gave them your name. That isn't the reason you might be running for office."
"Toby, I think I know"
"Apparently you don't if I have to explain it to you!" Exasperated, he let some of the fire creep back into his voice. "Sam, somewhere inside you, the idea of running appealed to you. Frankly, I'm surprised you haven't left to run for office before now. You're young, you have a career to plan! What did you think you'd be doing four years from now?"
"I hadn't thoughtI've been too busy to"
"You're running for Congress, Sam. And I think it's wonderful. And I'll do anything I can to help you take that seat."
Sam blinked, gaping slightly at his boss. He hadn't expected so positive a reaction. He hadn't expected so strong a commitment. Not knowing what else to say, he settled for the obvious, but said it softly and sincerely as only he could, imbuing it with more meaning and gratitude than most people could. "Thanks, Toby. "
There was a knock on the door as Josh opened it, peeking inside. "CNN says they'll be calling the Orange County election in a few" Josh looked from Sam to Toby and back. Something was going on here, and he wasn't sure what. "What's up?" He slipped inside and shut the door.
Sam looked at Toby for a second. Then turned back to Josh. "If Wilde wins the election, I'm going to run for his seat."
Josh stopped breathing for a second. When he started up again, he reached for Sam's hand, feeling as though the world had been turned sideways and no one had noticed but him. "That's what all the calls have been about? The ones from Will Bailey?"
Toby interrupted. "Will Bailey?"
"I know. I've had the song stuck in my head for a week." Sam turned his attention to Josh. "Are you okay with this?"
"Okay? I don't even understand yet. Sam, if you lose, you're killing any chance of running for office in the future."
"Josh, look"
"Come on, Sam. Why are you doing this?"
Sam was surprised at the pained expression on Josh's face. He hadn't expected much of an argument from this man he'd known longer than anyone else on staff. He hadn't thought Josh would give his career a second thought. He never had before. Sam thought about what Toby had just told him, and he thought about what he'd been saying to Will Bailey. He thought about that night, months ago, when he'd staffed the President. "I have to Josh. It's time." He knew it was a lame answer, but it felt so right.
Josh, still looking unconvinced at the wisdom of the decision, gestured towards the door. "We'd better get out there and find out if we have another campaign to win."
Sam felt his heart sink as he realized Josh was anything but happy about the situation. Of course, he himself had spent most of the day in a knot of anxiety over it, so how he expected Josh to embrace the idea was beyond him.
The trio stepped out to the bullpen. CJ was no longer there, but Donna waved them over, and spared a questioning glance at Sam. Reassured by his slight smile and slighter nod, she turned her attention back to the television.
"And with 98% of the votes counted, CNN is declaring the congressional race in Orange County won by Horton Wilde, Democrat. This is an interesting development. There will have to be a special election within 90 days to decide who will hold the seat. I'm assuming that, once the Republican incumbent makes his concession, the Wilde Campaign will give us a name"
Sam took a step back from the TV. Sudden fear gripped his heart almost making it skip a beat. "Get Will Bailey on the phone!" He yelled at Ginger.
Ginger did a double take, not accustomed to Sam yelling. She grabbed the receiver and started dialing, still staring at Sam and wondering just what was going on. She saw Sam's attention riveted to the TV. Unable to tear his eyes from the screen, Sam started to bounce just a little as he loudly demanded that someone get Will Bailey on the phone. Ginger spared both an eye and an ear for the TV.
"and we are expecting an announcement from Mrs. Wilde momentarily. She has confirmed that she has a name"
To Ginger's astonishment, Sam's bouncing increased as did the volume of and pleading in his voice. "Sorry, Sam, I can't reach him."
Toby, standing slightly behind Sam, put a hand on each shoulder and began to steer Sam away. He nodded to Ginger. "Keep trying." He nodded in Josh's direction, and the two went with Sam into Sam's office.
Moments after the door was shut, it opened again, and Josh's head poked out. "DONNNNAAAAA!" His yell produced a quicker reaction than usual. Ginger was surprised at the lack of exasperation and the ceasing of the yelling of the word impervious.
Josh spoke in hushed tones to his assistant who nodded and headed towards CJ's office. In moments, both women returned, knocked on Sam's door. The door opened, seemingly of its own volition, and then shut tight after the two had entered. Ginger took this all in, but shrugged it off and continued to try to reach Will Bailey.
**
CJ stared at Sam. "I honestly don't know what to say." She looked around the room. She considered making a crack about not being his first call, but thought that was too unkind, considering the level of anxiety she could see in his tension-filled frame and worried eyes. "I think you should talk to the President. He should know before the formal announcement."
Sam nodded. "I haven't even told Leo, yet. I should tell him, first, right?"
Just then Ginger knocked and opened the door a crack. "Will Bailey." She announced, pulling the door shut almost immediately.
Sam lunged at the phone. "Will? What? I can't hear yougo walk into a closet or somethingyeah, that's better. She is? Sure, I'll speak to her." Pause. "Mrs. Wilde, how are you?" Pause. "Yes, of course, I am running for your husband's seat. I just wanted to tell the President about it beforeHow long can you give me?" Pause. "Absolutely, Mrs. Wilde. Yes. Okay. Sure, put him, on." Pause. "Will, I'm going to need all the numbers" Sam smiled. "Sure, you go and celebrate. Call me after Mrs. Wilde makes the announcement."
Sam hung up the phone. "I have to talk to Leo and the President within the next 20 minutes." His friends all smiled at him, so he smiled back.
Toby laughed out loud, surprising everyone present with his jocularity. "Let's take care of that."
**
November 7
It was a strange thing for Sam to hear his name in phrases like "congressional-hopeful" and "Congressional Candidate Sam Seaborn". He sat at his desk going through a few notes he'd been making for the Inauguration. He hated the idea of leaving it to Toby, so he planned to write as much of it as he could, which, he conceded, wasn't likely to be much.
He checked his watch. 10:15 AM. He had to be at the airport in two hours. Tonight he was making an appearance in Orange County, and then he'd be flying back in the morning to pack and officially request a leave of absence.
Sam sat back in his chair recalling how the President and Leo had taken the news that he was running for Congress. It had hardly gone the way Sam might have imagined it, if Sam had ever allowed himself to imagine such a thing.
The President and the First Lady had just left the victory party, and were with Leo in the Residence enjoying the spoils of war.
"and that's where the term 'spoils of war' came from. Now, of course"
Leo looked up at the sound of the door opening, his face hopeful, like a man on death row expecting a reprieve. Charlie leaned into the room. "Sir, Senior Staff is here to see you."
Bartlet, startled at the interruption, stood as Charlie entered. He was even more startled by the revelation that his entire staff had a problem worth bringing to him en masse. "The entire Senior Staff?"
"Yes, sir."
"Okay." Bartlet waved them in, glancing towards his Chief of Staff for an explanation. Leo, of course, didn't have one.
CJ, Toby, Josh, Donna, and Sam entered the office, though Donna was being both pushed and pulled inside as though under protest. This at first made Bartlet think that whatever problem the staff had, must have something to do with Donna. Then he recalled how she had once raised her hand once in the Oval Office, and figured the girl felt out of place.
"Donna, it's okay. You can come in."
Donna blushed as Abbey hit her husband's leg for being so cruel as to draw attention to the girl.
Jed ignored her. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
For a minute no one spoke. They looked back and forth at each other. CJ and Donna grinning, and Josh and Toby looking pointedly at Sam.
Sam cleared his throat. "Mr. President," he turned then to Abbey and Leo. "Dr. Bartlet, Leo"
"We know who's here, Sam. Tell us why you all are." Jed sounded slightly exasperated, slightly playful.
"Of course, Sir. I wanted you to know about the California 47th. They called the race, sir. Wilde won."
"A Democrat won in Orange County?" Bartlet turned to Leo, incredulous by the news. "Did you hear that? A Democrat took the 47th!"
Leo snickered. "A dead democrat! A lot of good that does us."
"More good than you might think." Josh whispered, but the smile fell from his face just about the same moment that Sam's elbow connected with his stomach.
"Sir, when I met with Wilde's people before the election, I sort of" He stopped, the words stuck in his throat. Toby helpfully pounded him on the back, and they tumbled right out. "I agreed to run for the seat if Wilde won."
Bartlet's face was blank for a moment, but soon ran the gamut of every emotion from surprise to pride and from consternation to joy. Bartlet took several steps towards Sam and engulfed the younger man in a hug. "Congratulations! Sam, this is wonderful! The election will be in whatthree months, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then what are we waiting for? We have a campaign to win!"
Abbey stepped forward just then. "You certainly waited until the eleventh hour to tell us!"
Sam nodded. "We're talking about the California 47th, after all. I didn't think it would get this far."
She smiled, wisdom in her eyes. "You hoped it would.
"I suppose I did."
Leo chimed in, pulling his cell phone away from his ear, thought know one had seen him get it out and dial. "I think I can get you some funding." Leo's mind raced ahead formulating a list of people who might be generous to their cause.
"What happened to putting our resources where they'll do the most good?" Sam remembered the words Leo had used when Sam had mentioned all the impossible districts that weren't getting much in the way of assistance from the Democratic Party.
Leo had no trouble recognizing them, either. "Are you kidding? Getting you into the California 47th is definitely doing the most good! Do you have a campaign staff, yet?"
"Hang on, Leo! You have a job!" Bartlet reminded his friend.
"We can find someone who doesn't, I'm sure."
Bartlet eyed his staff. "Not from within this room!"
There'd been some laughter, probably because of the general giddiness over the late hour, the President winning reelection, and the prospect of Sam running for Congress. The President had offered to help anyway he could, and Sam knew he meant it. His biggest problem right now was how long he could possibly continue being effective working for Toby when he was supposed to be campaigning on the other side of the country. The more he thought about it, the more he knew it wasn't possible. Once he'd classified it as impossible, he started to figure out ways to do it anyway.
**
November 9
CJ's Office
CJ Cregg entered the Communications Bullpen looking for answers. She'd finished her third briefing of the day, and had been besieged with questions about Sam Seaborn's campaign for Congress. She'd deflected the questions as best she could, but she was going to need something solid to give them soon.
She peeked into Sam's office, but he wasn't there. She scanned the area looking for Ginger or Bonnie. Coming up empty, she finally headed into Toby's office.
"Toby, got a minute?"
Toby glanced up from the pristine pages of his yellow legal pad and nodded. "Sure. Why not?"
"I'm getting a lot of questions about Sam's campaign."
"Okay."
"So what do I tell them?"
"What do they want to know?"
"Who's running the campaign? What does the President think about Sam running? When did he make the decision to run? Do Sam and the President think he'll win?"
"Will Bailey. The President is happy for Sam. Sam decided to run for Congress when Will Bailey told him that Wilde's Widow needed a name, and as for winning, he's not going into this trying to lose."
She smiled. "Those are good answers."
"Anything else?"
"Do you think he has a chance?"
Toby looked around the room, as if the answer to that particular question would be written on the walls. He leaned back in his chair his eyes fixed on CJ's face. Somehow he gave away too much with the look or else CJ was just too accustomed to the way his mind worked. She took one look at him, crossed her arms in front of her, leaned against the doorframe and said, "Oh my God."
"What?"
"You want to run Sam's campaign."
"What?"
"You want to be his campaign director, don't you? Don't deny it Toby. It's written all over your face."
"No, it isn't." He paused, and stood somewhat nervously. "Is it?"
She laughed, the sound catching him unaware and bringing a smile to his own features.
"It is! You really want to do this, don't you?"
"How? How do you know that?"
She sat on his couch, leaning back and crossing her long legs. "Admit it first, and then I'll tell you."
"Fine. I admit it. I want to run his campaign."
"I knew it."
"Come on, CJ. How did you know?"
"I saw it in your eyes."
He gave a short bark of a laugh that spoke more of incredulity than of humor. "You're evading the question!"
She smiled a wicked smile. "It's what I do."
"You can't tell him."
"Why not?"
Toby sighed. "Will Bailey is running his campaign. I'm supposed to be writing the Inaugural speech, and there's the education thing we're working on. I can't take a leave right now."
"He hasn't got a clue you want this job?"
"If he had a clue, I wouldn't be telling you not to tell him."
"You know you're his favorite writer?"
"What? How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Jump from topic to topic like that with hardly any relation between the starting point and the destination."
"You just don't follow the inner workings of my thought processes."
"Thank God for small favors."
She stood up from his sofa remembering as she did the last time she'd seen Sam sort of flopped across it. "Don't worry. You're secret is safe with me."
As she headed for the door, he called out to her. "Wait, CJwhat did you mean I'm his favorite writer?"
"I asked him once who his favorite writer was. He said you were. I had to specify fiction' in order to get a real answer out of him."
"A real answer? Are you saying I'm not a real writer?"
"I'm saying I was looking for a more conventional answer."
"He said Dickens, didn't he?"
"Yeah, but he said you first."
Toby smiled as she walked from the room, wondering how many more times in his lifetime Sam Seaborn would surprise him.
**
November 15
The White House
Ainsley Hayes stared at the reference books laid out across her desk. They'd stopped making sense about an hour ago, but she had stubbornly clung to the misguided notion that perseverance would carry her through. The words blurred again, and she closed her eyes for a moment to clear them. It was only when her eyes actually burned from being re-lubricated that she realized they weren't the only things that were tired. The sting slowly subsided, and she opened her eyes.
She glanced at her watch noting that it was far later than she'd intended to stay at the office. Unfortunately, she also noted the watch. Sam had given it to her, and sometimes, when she was tired, just looking at it could bring him back to her with a painful suddenness.
Of course, now that he was running for Congress–Congress!–she was often caught off guard by a glimpse of his face on a B reel somewhere, or the sound of his voice echoing through the bullpen before she realized it wasn't coming from his office, but rather from the TV screens high above her head. The Communications staff seemed to stop what they were doing whenever they were able if Sam was on the screen. Ginger usually grabbed the remote and pumped up the volume.
Sam Seaborn was one of the most romantic men she'd ever dated. He was sweet, and he did a thing rare among the men she'd dated: he listened.
She stared at the watch now, and she knew something. She'd been right all along. She didn't really love Sam. "I must be crazy." She whispered under her breath. She knew, intellectually, that Sam was just about perfect. He was handsomeman, was he handsome! He was intelligent. He was thoughtful. He was sweet. He was generous. She knew all of that, but she felt more of a sisterly affection for him than a burning passion. It was both a relief to have her doubts quelled, and a burden to know she'd caused Sam such pain. She'd never forget the look in his eyes when she told him that she didn't love him.
Ainsley rubbed her tired eyes and settled back to work, hoping that one day Sam would find true love.
November 15
The Same Time
Inhaling the pleasant, homey aroma of vanilla hazelnut drained the tension from Mallory's face. She kicked off her shoes, and slipped into her slippers. She didn't change her dress, but she really couldn't take those shoes for another moment.
Her new shoes had not been a practical choice. Black, too high, and too pointy for any human foot, Mallory had decided to wear them because they looked so nice with her new black dress. She'd known they wouldn't be comfortable, but she hadn't considered the possibility that she might need surgery at the end of the night.
Most men never noticed what kind of pain and discomfort women had to endure when they dressed like this, but Sam was an altogether different kind of man.
It had been Sam's idea to get their dessert to go and leave the restaurant. She laughed out loud at the already precious memory of it all. Once they'd gotten the desserts to go, she'd gotten up from her chair and he'd helped her on with her coat. Then, suddenly, he'd scooped her up like a child, and easily carried her to the car.
"Just what are you doing, Sam Seaborn?" Mallory had shrieked in surprise.
"I'm taking you to the car."
"I am perfectly capable of walking to the car myself."
"Yes, you are, but the amount of pain it would cause youfrankly, ridiculous."
She laughed and pleaded with him to put her down, but he was adamant, and put up with her playful slaps, and cajoling. He'd placed her gently inside his car. When they'd gotten to her apartment, he'd calmly scooped her up again and carried her upstairs. Once inside, he would only put her down when she promised to take off the shoes. When she'd protested, he'd threatened to carry her to her bedroom and find her slippers himself.
Mallory was no fool, or maybe she was, she wasn't sure anymore, but she hadn't thought it a good idea for him to carry her to her bedroom. She'd begged him to put her down, and she'd dashed into her bedroom to find her slippers.
She felt awkwardly short as she walked into the kitchen. He had his back to her and was counting scoops of coffee as he put them in her coffee maker. Finally satisfied, he hit the brew button, and picked up their desserts. She watched as he found plates and forks.
"Thanks, Skipper." She gestured to the brewing pot.
He turned to face her. "You didn't taste it yet. Here you go," Sam said as he passed her cheesecake over to her. He sat next to her, bringing his cranberry/white chocolate chip cake with lemon icing drizzle.
They talked about everything and nothing, and Mallory laughed like she hadn't in ages. She remembered Abbey Bartlet telling her she had an itch for Sam Seaborn, and now, she knew she couldn't deny it any longer.
He rose to get their coffee when it was ready, and she found herself wondering if she should let herself love this man, and she realized it was too late. She already did. She loved his walk, his laugh, and his smile. She tuned back into his voice, listening not only to what he was saying, but also to how he said it. Yes. She loved his voice, too.
"and, I admit, I had slipped into it, but in no way was it intentional. It couldn't have been! I don't think I'd ever dare to imitate the President in his presence intentionally."
She laughed, and reached across the table to touch his cheek. He took her hand and held it there for a moment, then he moved his face slightly and kissed her palm.
She stared into his eyes, and saw in them his future. She saw her future if she chose to love him, and, inexplicably, she felt fear.
**
November 15
Orange County
Scott Holcombe stared at his friend. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Why should I help you?"
"You know why."
"I don't have anything against him!" Scott looked nervously around the crowded restaurant.
"How long have we been friends? Are you really not going to help me out when I need it? You're the only person I know who's gotten close to him."
"You know I want to help. I just don't want to take this too far."
"You don't have to do anything illegal. We just don't want him to win." He leaned across the table and spoke in a confidential tone. "We wouldn't expect you to do this out of loyalty or kindness. We would be sure you werecompensated."
Scott's objections melted away as a grin spread across his face. "I assume you had something in mind."
**
To Be Continued
