Non Sum Qualis Eram part 14
By Ecri
See Part One for Disclaimer and Spoilers.
**
Scott Holcombe sat in his office, feet propped up on his desk and crossed at the ankle. He spoke into a telephone headset, and scribbled on a legal pad he had rested on his lap.
"It's all set, Kev, don't worry about it." Pause. "Well, tell Sarah to chill. I've got it all under control." Pause. "Look, the numbers are going back down. He's already lost 3% of his gain. By the end of the week, people will forget about him again." Pause. "Not with the way I worded the last poll. I promise you, the questions are so loaded, they'd be confiscated in Vegas!" He laughed enamored of his own wit.
"Kevin, just put Tom on if he's so worried!" Pause. "Tom! You've got nothing to worry about! Seriously, Sam Seaborn's campaign is about to take a dive." Pause. "Fine. I'll tell you. I've just accepted a sizable donation for his campaign." Pause. "Why? Because only a feather pillow is softer than this money! He's come out and stated in no uncertain terms that he favors Campaign Finance Reform. Once word of this windfall hits the press, can you spell scandal? Besides, I've also leaked the text of his next two speeches to Webb's people. They'll know exactly how to respond!" Pause. "No, don't worry. He's not even here yet, and I'm" He spun slightly in his chair as he spoke, and his eyes beheld a vision in the doorway that stopped his heart.
Sam Seaborn stood staring at his Media Relations expert from the doorway of the man's office. His face was clouded, angry, and his lips were set in a firm, grim line. His brows furrowed, and his eyeshis eyes seemed on fire. The rage reflected off of them and bounced around the room like a ball on a racquet ball court, and when he finally spoke, Sam's voice was soft as a whisper, low, deep, and menacing.
"Hang up."
"Uhgotta go." He listened as Tom put Kevin on the phone, but didn't know what to tell the man. "No. Kev, no. I gotta go. He's here."
"Is that Kevin?" Sam took a step closer and reached for the headset, but Scott ended the call.
Sam didn't care. "Stand up."
Scott held out his hands in a placating gesture as he slid his feet off his desk. "Sam, Sammy, come on! Whatever's wrong, we can work it out! So what's the problem?"
"Pack your things and go."
Sam spat his words in short commanding sentences. He wanted nothing more than to hit this man who'd led him on and sabotaged an already shaky campaign. He might even have enjoyed it. He'd once been the kind of man who settled things with a quick right cross or an easy one-two punch. He'd once been a man whose arguments could deteriorate into brawls, especially when someone he loved was being threatened. It had taken him a long time to conquer that side of his psyche, but he had done it, and he wasn't about to undo it for this base creature.
"Did you hear me? I want you gone."
"Sammy" Scott laughed, searching his mind to find a way to salvage this situation. "SaMr. Seaborn, I don't think I've given you any cause to fire me."
Sam took one slow step closer to the desk, and Scott found himself sliding backward in his office chair to maintain the distance between them. "How about conspiracy? How about fraud? How about" Sam paused, looking for a word to express his contempt. "How about dishonesty?"
Scott stood, his face reflecting both his surprise at the situation and shock at Sam's reaction. He'd been in this game a long time, and he'd been sure Sam would be easily crushed. He'd thought of the man as weak, and likely to fold when faced with betrayal. He had in no way expected the wimp to turn warrior. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm on your side, Sa"
Sam rounded the desk and took a hold of Scott's lapels propelling him back into the wall behind him. He spoke through clenched teeth, seething at the betrayal he felt. "I want you out. I want you gone. That last piece you leaked to the press or to Webb, or whoever is in on this with youI planted it. I know it was you because you were the only one who had it. You tell Tom and Kevin that it's not going to work. I am not going to disappear. I am going to win this thing, and then I will be their worst nightmare."
Scott grabbed Sam's hands trying in desperation to wrest them from his suit. He'd never seen this look in the man's eyes. He'd never been warned about this. "Sam, let go"
Sam just pulled Scott forward and slammed him back again into the wall, a look of rage and utter fury tainting his features turning them from heaven to hell.
Scott looked into those eyes and was sure Sam was about to hurt him.
"Sam, let go."
Scott blinked. The words that were screaming in his head had echoed through the room, but they had not come from his own mouth, and certainly, Sam hadn't spoken them. Scott squirmed slightly craning his neck to see over Sam's shoulder. There in the doorway stood a man Scott recognized from the newspapers. Balding, with a full beard, he stood, hands in his pockets as if about to take a leisurely stroll rather than stopping a homicide.
Scott almost relaxed, but when he looked back at the man who held him, his blood ran cold. Sam Seaborn had not loosened his grip. His rage had not diminished. If anything, he leaned in closer to his quarry so his face was mere millimeters from Scott's.
"Sam, come on. Let go."
For a moment Scott was sure Seaborn hadn't heard his friend. Then, almost magically, Sam's grip on his lapels loosened all but imperceptibly. The fury drained from his eyes leaving behind sorrow, pain, betrayal and disappointment. It was almost painful to see.
Sam dropped Scott's lapels, bringing his hands down to his sides. He took a few steps away from the desk, allowing Scott some personal space. He glared at Scott, the rage momentarily rekindled. "Get out now, and don't come back."
Scott nodded, and started to get his stuff together.
Sam interrupted. "Leave it. I'll have someone box it up and send it to you."
"I'm not leaving my"
"Now, Scott. Right now."
Scott straightened his crumpled suit, fixed his tie, and, not once taking his eyes off Sam Seaborn, as if he didn't trust the man not to attack him, he backed out of the room and was gone.
Toby stepped aside to let him leave, then stared down the hallway, gauging his progress. Once he was out of sight, Toby turned his attention to Sam.
With the immediate threat, the object of his wrath, gone, Sam seemed deflated. His shoulders were slightly slumped, and his eyes intently studied the floor.
"I guess you found out. I'm sorry, Sam." Toby wasn't sure Sam heard at first, but after an unnaturally long pause, the younger man, raised his eyes, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Pleasedon't."
"Don't what?"
Sam sighed, raising his eyes to the ceiling before again looking his friend in the eye. "I don't need sympathy."
"You quite possibly do."
Sam scowled at Toby. "Tobywhy are you even here."
"Leo and Josh figured out what was going on. I volunteered to come here and help you get the campaign back on track."
"I'm no charity case."
"No. You're not. I don't see you as one, and I won't let you see yourself as one."
"How do I let these things happen to me? How is it I'm such a poor judge of character?"
"You're not."
Sam snorted.
"Did you just snort?"
"I quite possibly did."
Toby's eyes searched Sam's for some hint about what he needed to hear. He had to somehow remind Sam how much he cared without making it seem that he had no confidence in the younger man. As he watched his deputy, it occurred to him with shocking abruptness why Sam might be so down. "Sam, I didn't see this coming. I didn't bail you out. That's not what happened here."
"Then what did happen?"
Toby told him everything from Leo's friend's tip to Josh's file to Toby's decision to take a leave of absence to help Sam win. "Sam, you worked this out on your own, obviously, and though I'm dying to learn how, I need you to know I'm only here to help. I am not here to take over. I am not here because we don't think you can do this without us. I'm here because everyone at the White House wants to help you and no one can. I took a leave and I'm at your disposal."
"Does that mean I'm in charge?"
"I should warn you, I don't take direction well."
Before Sam could decide what to say, Will Bailey ran into the office, almost knocking Toby down.
"What just happened?"
"How do you mean?" Sam knew Will liked Scott, so he wasn't sure how to tell him.
"I just saw Scott, and he said he was leaving and wouldn't be back. Kerry told me he got what he deserved and that you had kicked his ass out in the street where it belonged."
Sam smiled. "Kerry said that?"
"Yeah, right before Michelle told me that you and Toby Zeigler had uncovered a conspiracy so big that she was going to do a room by room search for the Cigarette guy from the X-Files. Theresa said she wasn't sure what was going on, but Scott was always pretty stupid, so she was glad he was leaving."
Sam snorted again.
Toby smiled. Silently thanking God that Sam had such a loyal crew of volunteers and office staff, he still couldn't let that awful noise go unmentioned. "You just snorted again."
"Yes, I did."
"Don't do that in public."
"I'll do my bestbut you knowif it's like tripping over things, I won't have much control."
Will continued talking as if the other two men hadn't spoken. "Geraldine said you had a vacancy to fill. Of course, then Theresa said she was tired of stupid people having so much control over the campaign. I wasn't sure what she was getting at, but I do know that Jesse and Premila were quite happy over Scott's departure. Money was changing hands, and Theresa mentioned an office pool"
Sam walked over to Will. "Will, you're babbling. I fired Scott. We'll pack his things and ship them to him."
"We arewhy? What"
"It's long, involved, and highly unlikely. Come on, I'll fill you in. Right after I kill some rumors." Sam turned and headed to his bullpen, wondering where his fans were getting their information.
**
Will Bailey could barely comprehend what Sam was saying. "Are you sure?" He glanced from Sam to Toby. "Conspiracy? Did he admit it?"
"Will, he did it. He was on the phone with them when we got to his office."
"HeI hired him. He worked for Wilde's campaign. He wasn'twas hehe was trying to sabotage Wilde's campaign?"
"I don't know for sure. He's worked for campaigns for almost every political party, which isn't so unusual. He could have been serious with Wilde, but either was recruited by Kevin to sabotage mine, orsomething."
Will nodded. "Are youSam, I'm going to have to resign."
"What?"
"I never saw this coming. I told you and Elsie I wasn't up to this. I'm tired. I should have been able to spot this"
"Will, if you want to resign, I won't stop you. It's been harder to keep you on board this campaign than it is to understand advice from Bruno Gianelli."
Will stared at Sam not comprehending.
"It's okay, Will. If you want to go, go. No hard feelings. Just, at least please stay in town long enough to vote for me." He held out his hand, and he and, after a moment of concentration, Will held out his own and they shook.
"I'm sorry, Sam."
"It's okay."
Sam watched as he left the office.
Toby cleared his throat. "So, about that vacancy"
"You left a job at the White House to ask me if I needed help with my campaign? My campaign, which is, quite possibly, the fastest sinking campaign in congressional history"
"Sam, I'm not kidding around."
"How much damage has been done?"
"It won't be easy explaining away this kind of staff change so close to the election."
"No, it won't." He sat on the edge of his desk, and Toby got the distinct impression he might have fallen over if he hadn't. "I'm going to lose."
Toby felt rage akin to what Sam had felt earlier when he'd confronted Scott. "No."
"No, I won't lose?"
"No, I won't let you give up now. We are going at this full tilt. We either go in with the attitude that we will win, or we withdraw from the race now."
"I can win?"
"It's not a question. Say it like you mean it."
"I can win."
"You can do better than that."
"I can win!"
"Now you've got it."
"But, Toby? Cheerleading practice aside, you haven't seen my schedule of appearances."
"That's what's next."
**
January 6
CJ's Apartment
CJ rushed through her morning routine, pouring her coffee into a travel cup. She usually bought coffee on the way to work, but she didn't want to stop today. Shutting down the coffee machine, she grabbed her coat, cup, and briefcase and headed out the door.
It was the letter. She had finally felt like things were going back to normal when the letter had set her off again. Ron Butterfield's response to it hadn't helped.
She'd received no more letters, no e-mails, and no reason whatsoever to be afraid. The first letter had been enough. It had been from her stalker's brother. Odd, but she hadn't thought of him as having family. The brother wanted to see her, he said. He wanted to make her understand a few things.
The tone hadn't been overtly threatening, but CJ wasn't taking any chances. She was jumpy. She admitted it, but she couldn't help it.
Carol had suggested she see a counselor. It had sounded like a decent idea on the surface, but CJ wasn't ready for that.
She just wanted this to be over.
It wasn't until she was in her office again, reading the morning mail, that she discovered another letter. She didn't even open it before she called Ron Butterfield.
**
January 6
Toby watched Sam across the conference table. They hadn't gotten a lot of work done today. He had chalked it up to the injury at first, thinking maybe now that the dosage on the painkillers had been dropped, it was too much of a distraction, but he'd only been kidding himself. Sam wasn't in pain. He had problems of a different nature.
"Sam, if you'd like to do this later, we can."
"What? Why? I'm good."
Toby laid his pen down carefully to keep himself from throwing it. "Sam, you're barely listening to me. You've barely said two words to the staff since you've been back. Your speech the other day wasless than perfect."
"Excuse me, Toby, if I don't live up to your expectations!"
"Sam, it's not my expecdo you realize that you have a real chance here? For the first time your numbers are seriously rising!"
"Yeah, it's amazing. All I had to do to get ahead in the polls was get in the way of an assassin!"
That stopped Toby. Was Sam having some kind of PTSD episode or was this some sort of depression brought on by the stress of the last few years and the shock of the attack? If only Abbey Bartlet were here to tell him these things.
"Sam"
"No. Ino. I'll be in my office, Toby."
Toby watched Sam leave. Whatever was wrong with Sam, he'd have to figure it out and fix it soon if Sam was going to have any chance of winning.
**
January 6
10:34 PM PST
Sam Seaborn lay in bed too awake to think about sleeping, but unable to drag himself out of bed to do anything about it. He'd been sleeping poorly, and Toby had insisted he get to bed early to make up for it.
He had a big day ahead of him tomorrow, and the President would be out here in less than three weeks. He had to make sure his place in the polls wasn't going to embarrass the President. After all, if his numbers took a nosedive, it would be hard to justify the President's visit.
He was upset with himself for having spoken to Toby the way he had. When Toby had brought up his rising numbers, he'd just been thinking about what had happened to him. The fact that he'd snapped had less to do with what Toby had said, and more to do with the way he felt. It wasn't so much that he was facing his own mortality, as he was sure most psychiatrists would tell him, although that may have started it. He'd had too much time to think as he sat in that hospital room. They'd told him the pills might make him emotional, but he hadn't been prepared to revisit the highest and lowest points of his life. His thoughts had ended up fixed on endings. His relationships all seemed doomed. Lisa, Laurie, Mallory, Ainsleyand why was that. Even his relationship with Josh, a man he'd loved like a brother
As he contemplated the many things he had to do and the possible reasons for his inability to sleep, the phone rang.
He reached over, fumbling in the darkness and answered it. "Sam Seaborn."
"Sam? It's Josh. Did I call at a bad time?"
"No!" Sam sat up relieved to have someone to talk to rather than just dealing with his own dark thoughts. "It's good. What's up?"
"I wanted to be sure you were okay."
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure, buddy?"
"Of course I am."
"Okaybut the PTSD thing can come on you before you know what's happening."
"I don't have PTSD. I'm good, Josh."
"If you need to talk"
"I'm good, but I appreciate the call."
"Oh. Okay then."
Josh's silence said more than his words. "Josh, did Toby call you?"
"What? No! Of course not!"
"Josh!"
"Yeah he called me."
"I know I was testy today, but if you speak to him, please tell him I'm all right."
"I will once you convince me."
Josh's voice was tinged with concern, and Sam realized he was trying to make up for all the times Sam was hurting and he hadn't noticed. Sighing, he tried to sound convincing. "Josh, I'm fine. I have had a few bouts withbut I am fine. I've been working hard, and I suppose I am fatigued, but I enjoy working hard. I wouldn't lie to you, Josh, I'm fine."
"Well, then why am I keeping you on the phone at this hour? Get some rest! I'll see you in a few weeks."
"Josh?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks!"
Josh hung up, letting Sam get some rest, but as he did, the Deputy Chief of Staff knew he hadn't done enough to earn Sam's gratitude, but he wasn't done yet.
**
January 10
Vice President's AA Meeting
"That's it then. See you all next week." John watched as the bulk of the attendees left the room, but he motioned for Leo to stay. When they were alone, he spoke. "How are the President's plans coming for the trip to Orange County?"
"Good. We should have a final itinerary soon."
"Sam's numbers haven't moved much lately."
"True, but at least they're not dropping anymore."
"If the President has any ideas on how we can get them moving in the right direction again, tell him I'd be willing to work on it."
Leo's eyes narrowed as he took in Hoynes' statement. "What's your interest here?"
"Sam's a good guy."
"I know that. What's your interest here?"
"Seaborn could be a good congressman, and I think it would do the party good to have a voice in Orange County."
Leo smiled, knowing the Vice President was keeping something from him, but willing to let it go for now. "Have it your way, John. I hear you've been asking for help and advice a lot lately."
"Yes, I have."
"That's new for you, isn't it?"
John's laughter surprised Leo. "You know, a year or two ago, I'd have taken offense at that remark."
"And now?"
"Now, I have to agree with you. I just decided I don't want to repeat the mistakes of my past. I have one shot at this. I want to make it work. If I'm going to do that, I have to realize I can't do it alone."
Leo wondered when this had happened. He'd spent so long thinking of Hoynes as the enemy that he hadn't noticed the change until someone pointed it out to him. He still didn't agree with a lot of the man's positions, but then he didn't always agree with his best friend, either.
Hoynes had seemed a pompous jerk to him for a long time, but now, not so much. Though upon reflection, he could hardly consider that odd. After all, no one who worked in or near the White House could do so without seeing massive changes in their lives. Leo himself had started their first term married and living in his own home. Now, he was divorced, living in a hotel, and waiting to see if his daughter was going to turn into her mother. Change, after all, was the only constant.
"If you need anything from me, let me know. The President does support you as the next President, John. Nothing would make him happier than to pass the baton to you."
"Thank you, Leo, and thank him for me. It's a good thought, but a tough race. There have only been three Vice Presidents who have won the Presidency once their own Vice Presidency was over. This is not a sure thing."
Leo nodded. "You're right, but we can tackle this. I'm sure a lot of people would have bet money that you and the President couldn't win reelection.
John knew that was true. He was sure that was why someone had ordered a meeting to discuss the possibility of replacing him on the ticket. Considering his next ticket, he knew there were still a lot of decisions to make. "Now all we need is the other half of the Hoynes ticket."
**
January 15
Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff
Josh Lyman slammed the phone down in frustration. The noise brought Donna running in.
"What was that?"
Josh ignored her. "I can't believe those idiots! Not a brain cell among the lot!"
Donna deduced what had happened and relaxed, letting her boss rant.
"They're defending him! How can they defend a judge who praises a convicted killer! He's throwing the man in jail and he stops to tell the killer that he's going to bring enlightenment to the other inmates! Now, his people won't take my calls!"
"Why are you calling him?"
Before Josh could answer the phone rang. He all but screamed his name by way of greeting.
"If I interrupted something, I can call back later."
"Sam! I didn't think it was you."
"I hope not!"
Josh took a deep breath to calm down and waved a reluctant Donna back to her desk. "What's up?"
"I wanted to touch base with you about the trip. Are you coming?"
"Sure. Wouldn't miss it."
"Great. I know you were here, but I sort of missed you on the last one. I think I was still in shock."
"Yeah, you were pretty hopped up, too."
"I wasn't!"
"How's it going? I hear your numbers are steady."
"They are. At least they're not dropping."
"I heard your latest sound byte. They're still bugging you about Rosslyn?"
Sam hesitated before answering, and Josh realized it wasn't just the press that made Sam uncomfortable talking about this.
"Since the stabbing, the Rosslyn thing got bumped to the forefront again. One of the local papers did a story about The Heroism of Sam Seaborn' that made me sound like a superhero or a saint."
"You probably don't want to hear this, but what you did was pretty brave. Both times."
"Bravery had nothing to do with it. It wasn't as if I gave it any thought. I reacted." He paused as he realized he was getting agitated all over again. "I don't want to talk about that."
"Okay. How about your next rally?"
"The one for the Health Care Workers Union?"
"That's the one." Josh asked Sam to read him some of the remarks.
"Why, Josh?"
"So I can help."
"Josh, we had this conversation before. You can't."
"Like you couldn't help Toby with the Inaugural?"
Sam sputtered for a few moments, not sure how to respond but was, in the end, unable to lie. "How did you know?"
"We've known each other how long? Did you really think I wouldn't recognize your style?"
"Who else knows?"
"I don't know. No one said anything. They might not realize it's yours yet. It feltright to be reading your words in that speech. Once he's given it, though, I'm sure a few of us will figure it out." When Sam didn't respond, Josh took it as his cue to keep going. "You know, I always thought that if you ran for office, I'd be managing your campaign."
Sam didn't hide his surprise. "I wasn't so sure I'd run for office."
"I was. Though I admit I always thought I'd be running the campaign. You've got a lot to offer this country. No matter how this election goes, you remember that."
"Thanks, Josh." Sam knew what Josh wanted to say, or at least he imagined that he did. He knew they weren't as close as they once had been, but then, the President and Leo hadn't been best friends all their lives. Fluctuation, change, redefining of relationships, was all a normal part of life. Whatever his relationship with Josh was, Sam realized it was just evolving. If they were never again as close as they once had been, that was okay, but then again, they might be.
Sam smiled as he listened to Josh's words of encouragement.
**
To Be Continued
