"I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same: that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion, and I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter."
It was a cold, but uncharacteristically clear February afternoon when Sam took the Oath of the Vice President. The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court didn't look overly happy to be swearing Sam in, especially when he had to remove his gloves to proffer the Bible he swore upon, and many of the Senior Staff took a sadistic glee in rousing the old conservative from his comfortable bench. "You know, each Justice on the Supreme Court has their chair personally fitted so they won't have to fidget," Margaret had told him while fixing his tie.
He visited many of the White House staffers before going to the Capitol, savoring the energy that permeated the building. He knew that it would be his last opportunity, for good or bad, to stand in the West Wing as a player, rather than a private citizen or (come the next election) the driving force behind the energy. He had just stood in the bullpen for long moments, surrounded by televisions and junior staffers, when he saw Donna appear.
"Hey, Donna."
"Sam! I didn't think you'd be coming in today."
"I just wanted to come in for a few minutes, say goodbye to everybody."
"Don't talk like you're going somewhere. We'll all still come by to harass you."
"Will you, please? I'd like that, if you'd all come to visit."
"Of course we will. It's only across town. Have you seen the mansion yet?"
"No. Well, I've driven past it, it's on the end of Embassy Row."
"It's an old navy observatory. It's supposed to be very drafty, but the Navy will pay for your heating bills. Oh, hey, I got you something. Well, not so much got you something as stole it for you." Donna took a rubber ball from her purse and put it in Sam's hand. "I thought you might want to throw it out of a window somewhere," she smiled.
"Thanks, Donna. If I get an opportunity to dine with royalty, you'll certainly be on the invitation list."
"Hey, thanks. Good luck, Sam."
"Is Josh free?"
"Sure. He's looking for the file on 12-386, but he's not going to find it. It's on top of his file cabinet, but I'm not going to tell him."
"Why not?"
"He wished me a happy birthday."
"What's wrong with –"
"It's not my birthday!"
"Oh." Sam rapped on the door to Josh's office and stepped inside when Josh mumbled something. "Are you busy?" he asked Josh.
"No, I'm just looking for –" Sam grabbed the folder (admiring Donna's organizational skills, for being able to tell him exactly where he would find the folder) and tossed it onto Josh's blotter.
"What did you do to Donna?"
"Nothing! I just said 'happy birthday' and she got really angry!"
"Well, yeah, I got that, being that Donna's birthday is in May."
Josh frowned. "No it isn't. It's today."
"No. Remember, last year, Bonnie made a cake? And Margaret commented on how Donna's birthday is the same as Karl Marx's? It's May 5th."
"Yeah…but why would I write it down wrong?" Josh proffered his desk calendar, which, sure enough had "b-day, DM" scrawled by the date. To Sam's amusement, "Inaug, SS" was written in the corner in much smaller print.
Something occurred to Sam. "You know whose birthday it is today?" Sam smirked evilly.
"No, whose?" Josh inquired with a little trepidation.
"Amy Gardener's."
Josh stared at Sam for a moment, then looked down at his day planner with more than a little embarrassment. The other item on the planner caught his eye. "Sam, today's your inauguration!"
"Believe it or not, I actually did know that. It's, y'know, all that we've been working on for three weeks."
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, having hair cream put on or something?"
"I'm not due for another forty minutes. So I thought I'd come visit one more time. Before. You know. And thanks to your little error, it's certainly worth the time I'm taking."
Josh's eyes widened in alarm. "Sam, you wouldn't…"
"Nah. But I had you going there for a second. You really ought to work out these issues with Donna, you know…"
Josh mumbled something under his breath. "What was that?"
"Nothing. I said, 'you and my mom'."
"Okay. I'm here collecting advice."
"Sam, it's like graduation day." Josh smirked at his friend, but Sam could see the edge of truth underneath his statement. The one good thing that came out of the shooting, to Sam's mind, was his newfound closeness with Josh. Their common experience made them much closer than they were even before Josh started shutting Sam out. "Okay. Always carry a towel."
"Josh, I'm looking for something I couldn't get from reading Douglas Adams."
Josh thought for a few long moments before answering his friend. "The thing, I think, that sets Lincoln and Roosevelt away from all of our other presidents is not their writing, or their charisma, although they were certainly not lacking in either of those departments. The thing that made them great was their willingness to sacrifice themselves for – not even their political ideology, but for what they felt in some place deeper than even politics resonates was right. And I know you have that potential in you, Sam. The danger is, though, that the American people are a fickle bunch and it's almost impossible to predict what they'll react well too. And if you're willing to take that risk and you don't do well, you'll be a Woodrow Wilson or an Adlai Stevenson: the right ideas – beautiful ideas – but no presentation and no support."
Sam digested Josh's startlingly impassioned speech, and Josh could tell that Sam was slightly taken aback. "I'd, uh, been thinking about that for a little while."
"I could tell."
Donna rapped on the door. "You're going to be late to lunch with DuBarry."
"I gotta go. Go talk to Leo. He'll have better advice than I do."
Sam walked out of the communications bullpen to the Chief of Staff's office. Margaret ushered him into the office, where Leo looked up from his file folder.
"Hello, Sam. You aren't due anywhere right now?"
"No, I've got an hour or so before I need to start getting ready."
"You have a speech?"
"Yes. I'm not entirely happy with it, but Gordon and Aimee are looking at it, and we'll have time to go over it again."
Leo nodded. "The law enforcement community is going to look to you to lead the investigation. The legal and the Congressional investigation."
"It's kind of funny. I can't even bring myself to watch crime drama, but here it is." Sam laughed humorlessly.
"I called some people I used to work with, and I got you a list of names." Leo tossed a piece of paper onto his desk in front of Sam.
"What are..?"
"These are people who might be able to help you find out who is responsible for what. And I want you to know that I trust your judgment completely when it comes to whether or not to use these names. But it'll be bad, I don't know how bad, for me, and for some friends of mine. The President, however, isn't in any danger over this."
"Th-thank you, sir."
"Come here, Sam." Leo embraced the younger man tightly. "I'm proud of you."
"Thank you, Leo. I wouldn't be able to without everything you've taught me."
"Come on. The President told me he wants to see you as soon as you get a minute."