PART TWO
March 2002, White House
Sam looked at his colleagues. He had asked them to come to his office during lunch time, so he could talk to them. Now that they were here, he was beginning to wonder how he was going to bring it up.
"So, what did you want?" Josh asked impatiently.
His friend always sounded impatient whenever talking to him these days, Sam thought, feeling slightly depressed, as he usually did whenever Josh brushed him off.
"I... I've resigned," Sam said.
Well, he hadn't meant to beak the news to them quite so brutally, but at least, it was done. He had said it.
The others froze, and looked at him.
"You've what?" Toby asked, the 'I'm sure you didn't say what I think you just said' clearly implied in his tone.
"Resigned," Sam said firmly. "The governor of California offered me a job, and I accepted it. I talked to the President yesterday, I gave the letter to Leo this morning, I'm moving in... I don't know, probably six weeks."
"Why?" Josh asked, sounding honestly surprised.
Toby grimaced, CJ put her hand to her eyes, and Sam shrugged.
"Look, Josh..."
"No, you... You're actually leaving now, in the middle of all this?"
"Of all what, Josh? The State of the Union is done, the MS thing is dealt with, and for God's sake, I'm not gonna miss that opportunity."
"Miss that... what, working for the President isn't enough now?" Josh laughed.
No, it wasn't, it hadn't been for quite some time, but he didn't want to point that out to Josh, of all people.
"Josh, it's done," he said.
"Yeah, I can see that you haven't lost your ability to, you know, throw your life out of the window in a blink," Josh said bitterly.
Sam started, hurt.
He refrained from telling his friend that he had once found his ability to move on without looking back pretty useful. He would have regretted it, he knew.
"Josh," CJ said softly.
Josh looked at all of them, then fled the office, not bothering to close the door behind him.
"He'll apologize," CJ said.
"I doubt it," Sam replied.
"Sam, that was just - "
"Josh being a jerk, yes, I know. I should be used to that by now, but I'm not, so can we move on?"
She bit her lip and nodded.
Toby asked, "What will you be doing?"
"Helping on the campaign. If he's re-elected, I'll be his chief of staff."
"That's great," CJ said sadly, and he nodded his thanks. They were the first to actually ask him what he was leaving for, and it didn't surprise him that they would be the ones to bother. He shook himself as soon as the thought crossed his mind. He was darkening the situation. They all loved him, they were just caught up in their lives, dealing with their own bitterness, trying to survive. They all had a lot to deal with.
"What about Ainsley?" Toby asked.
"I'm going with him, of course," Ainsley said from the door, and Sam grinned at her, under the entertained glances of Toby and CJ.
He always grinned like an idiot when she entered the room, except when he was too tired to actually smile.
"She doesn't think I should be left alone," Sam said, shrugging.
"She's right," CJ smiled.
"No, she's not."
"Who would feed you if she didn't go with you?" CJ teased.
"I'll have you know that of the two of us, I'm the cook!"
Just because he had eaten a lot of takeaway food in the last few years didn't mean he couldn't cook. And it didn't prove his inner inability to take care of himself either. He was a strong, independent man who didn't need a woman to do the dishes or the laundry. His days of turning white shirts to pink were long gone.
He * could * live alone. He just didn't want to anymore.
CJ snickered. "Well, at least, now, we know who's wearing the pants in this relationship."
"As if there was ever any doubt," Ainsley said.
Sam let them joke at his expense. Not that he had much of a choice.
As Ainsley and CJ continued to tease him, he began to smile a little himself. He was immensely happy that she was willing to follow him across the country. He was relieved that she trusted him enough to know that he wouldn't think she was weak for following him.
He tried to convey the message by looking at her that way - the way he looked at her when he wanted to thank her for being her.
She smiled softly, and nodded.
Okay, then.
Now, he just had to pack up his life and cross the country, like he had done when he was eighteen. Except that he would be less scared, and less alone, this time.
**********
Six weeks later
They gathered at the bar - their favorite one, the one where they always went when they wanted to get seriously plastered. CJ and Toby, Donna, Ginger and Bonnie. Ainsley was there too, protesting that she still had stuff to pack.
"Ainsley, we still have tomorrow to do that," Sam pointed out. "It's the last night we'll spend with them in a long time."
She had finally agreed to come, to Sam's relief. He didn't want to be alone to say goodbye to them.
Josh wasn't here. He had a date with Amy, he had claimed. Sam hadn't really expected him to come, but it had still hurt a little. Josh had barely talked to him in the past five weeks, and then only about work. He acted as if Sam had committed the worst sin ever, and after a while, Sam had decided that he'd had it. He knew Josh, he knew that one day, his friend would wake up and realize that he had been wrong. In the meantime, he didn't have the time to try and convince him that his resignation wasn't a personal attack.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Donna asked worriedly, dragging him back to the present.
"Sure," he said. The young woman had tried to ensure that he was okay with the 'Josh situation', and he didn't know what more he could do to convince her that he was fine. "Donna, we've been at odds for quite some time now. He wants to be an ass, that's his right, but frankly, I'm tired of it."
"I know," she said, and he smiled. He knew Donna had tried to talk some sense into Josh recently, and that it had created tensions between them.
"Thanks for trying anyway," he told her gently.
"You're welcome. He'll change his mind. He'll see the light, he'll be sorry for the way he treated his friends, and that day, we'll all kick his butt for not listening to us," she said.
"Yeah, and there'll be groveling involved."
"Definitely."
They looked at each other, laughed a little. "So, what will you do to him to make him pay?" he asked, and she laughed some more.
Josh had changed a lot in the past few months, as they all had, and most of the changes in him weren't for the best. He had become an arrogant son of a bitch (okay, he'd always been arrogant, but not to the point of shouting down absolutely everyone who tried to argue differently than he did), he had become so focused on scoring points that he didn't even choose his battles anymore, and most importantly, he had become unfriendly with everyone, except maybe Donna before she began defending Sam's right to go on with his life.
They were all hoping that he would revert back to what he was at the beginning of the administration. The sooner the better.
Donna grabbed his arm. "Hey, it's your last night in town, let's have fun," she said gently.
His stomach constricted a little. He was more nervous than he liked to admit - he was leaving a high-profile job to join an uncertain campaign, and even if that kind of decision had brought him success before, there was no telling what would happen this time.
He was going to have to meet new colleagues - and maybe, hopefully, new friends.
He was going to miss the ones he had here a lot.
But Donna was right. Tonight was a time to party.
**********
One hour later, everyone was well on his way to drunkenness. The assistants were giggling like schoolgirls, telling (once again) the tale of Sam falling from his boat. All the women were laughing hard, and Toby was trying to hide a smile in his beer.
"Okay, I'm gonna need more alcohol to hear you all ridicule me through the night," Sam finally said, eager to flee the scene. "Anybody want anything?"
They all did, and CJ seemed to take pity on him and offered to help him. As they made their way to the bar, he asked, "Afraid I'll drop the drinks, Ceej?"
"Well, given your legendary sense of equilibrium," she winked.
"Oh, come on, there was a heavy swell, the boat was pitching," he tried to protest again.
"Yes, but it was still pretty funny," she said.
"Whatever," he sighed. "And how come no one ever laughs at your, how shall I put it... habit, of falling into pools?"
She shrugged. "I'm me, you're, well, you."
He nodded. "Yeah, that explains everything," he admitted.
She shook her head, and turned serious. "Are you okay?" she asked. "It has to be difficult."
"Seeing everyone mock me?"
"No, leaving."
"We all thought about it, more than once, especially in the last months," he pointed out.
"Yes. But you're the first one to go through with it."
"I know. I... It's a little scary. It's a big step to the unknown there, and I'll have responsibilities I didn't have here, and... I'm gonna live near my parents again."
That was a point he tried to avoid thinking about. His parents who were deep into the divorce procedures. His parents who didn't look at each other anymore.
His parents who had asked him to choose between them.
He resented them for the situation they had put him in. He understood why his mother had this attitude, but it hadn't made it any easier to bear.
"Sam?" CJ asked, concerned.
"It's fine," he smiled. "They just... I spend my time listening to them tearing the other apart, and it hurts."
She nodded. "I'm sorry about that."
He shrugged. "It's not really your fault, you know."
She looked at him carefully. "Not really?"
"Not really," he confirmed.
"Thank you so much for absolving me," she laughed.
"I'm a magnanimous kind of guy."
"That you are," she said thoughtfully. "That you are. And how come you can still say magnanimous after what you've already had to drink?"
"I'm also a real man, one who can hold his liquor very well."
"Whatever you say, Spanky."
**********
Two hours later, Ainsley's place
Toby was shifting from foot to foot, seeming horribly embarrassed. They were at Ainsley's doorstep, she had gone in, to finish packing, and to let them say goodbye privately.
"So..." Toby began.
Eloquent, Sam thought. "So..." he answered.
Eloquent too.
"Are you... You'll be ready tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'm mostly done. I'll help Ainsley, I guess. I'm sorry we couldn't find anyone to do my job before I left, it's not going to make it easier. For you, I mean."
"Oh, we'll find someone eventually."
'If you don't scare them all before they gather the guts to apply,' Sam thought, but chose not to say.
His boss had almost been funny in his attempts to discourage potential candidates. He claimed they weren't good enough, everybody else claimed they just weren't Sam. Sam knew his boss would find someone sooner or later (he hoped, for his sake, that it would be sooner). He just needed time to accept the fact that his deputy wasn't coming back.
"Did you and the President..." Toby began to ask.
Sam bit back a grimace. His relationship with the President had been strained at best since he had told him he was leaving. They had both been polite, but the tension was there, and everyone could see it. More and more, Sam had distanced himself from the meetings, to the point where he had barely seen Bartlet in the last two weeks - he had discussed it with Toby and Leo, and they had agreed that this kind of tension during their meetings wasn't productive for anyone, and they had allowed him to make himself scarce.
The last day, Bartlet had asked him to come into his office, and had thanked him for the work he had done in the administration, and the advice he gave him. "I hope the Governor will appreciate your input as I have, Sam," he said.
"Thank you, sir," Sam had said, shakily.
"Sam... We may not agree anymore, but I hope you know that you'll always be a part of the family."
He knew. He also knew that it would take some time for them to get along again, for the bitterness to fade away.
Coming back to Toby, he smiled a little. "I wouldn't say that we left on good terms, exactly, but I think with time, we should be fine."
Toby nodded. "Good, that's good."
"Toby, I'm not dropping off the face of the world," Sam felt obligated to point out. "I'll be in California. You'll come there eventually. I'll call you guys, I'll write."
"It won't be the same."
Of course it wouldn't. They had worked together for years, often in tense situations, shared motel rooms, done late night writing sessions...
He was going to miss them too.
"I know," he said. "But hey, three years at that job are enough. And God knows I don't have anything against the sun, and the sea, and the beach... I may begin surfing again."
"Oh God," Toby said, mock-seriously, and Sam grinned.
"I'll have you know that I was quite good, once upon a time."
"Did you hit your head? You seem delusional, all of a sudden."
"Very funny," Sam growled.
"You sure?" Toby asked.
"About the funniness?" Sam asked.
"About the leaving."
Sam smiled. "I am."
"Because..."
His boss trailed off, not willing to finish, and Sam nodded. "Toby, it's time for me to move on."
Toby chuckled curtly. "No, it's not."
"When was the last time I had a good idea, Toby? And even when I do, you're not willing to listen to it anymore." His boss was about to argue and he raised a hand to stop him. "I could fight my way back, but I'm not sure it's worth it. Simple truth is, I want to move on before I become completely unable to write for anyone but President Bartlet."
Toby nodded. That he could understand. "Do you think it'll be okay in California?"
Sam smiled. He had listened to a lot of the Governor's speeches, he had familiarized himself with his style, had written less and less for the President, so he could break some of his habits. He had begun writing for the Governor, recently, and had sent a few drafts over to him - to see if they were okay.
The Governor had been pleased with his work, and from what little he knew of the man, he wasn't going to get more praise than that.
"Yeah, it'll be fine," he assured his boss. Former boss. That was going to take some getting used to, Sam thought, before checking his watch.
Wow, 3 A.M. He was never going to be able to get up tomorrow. "Look, I have to go sleep now, or else I won't even be able to drag myself to the airport tomorrow."
Toby nodded. "Yeah, I'll... go home."
The two men stood on the sidewalk again, not talking, each of them waiting for the other to move. After a while, Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh for crying out...," he muttered, and took a step forward to hug Toby, briefly.
He heard Toby chuckle nervously, and he patted him on the arm, before letting him go.
"I'll miss you. And, you know, thank you. For all the time you took to explain to me how I could be better. I'm sure I could keep you here all night if I had to list all you did for me, but I really, really, want to sleep."
Toby smiled and said gruffly, "Yeah, and, hum, same here". He put his hands in his coat pockets, and looked at the ground and Sam laughed a little and opened his building door. As he was about to enter, Toby called him back.
"Sam?"
He turned around, and his boss came to him and hugged him, briefly, then pushed him back and hurried to his car, not looking back again.
Sam swallowed past the lump in his throat and entered his building. "The hardest part is done," he told himself.
**********
California, 2002
Sam began his new work two days after his plane had landed. He and Ainsley had barely had the time to open a few boxes in their apartment. He hadn't even seen his parents yet.
After a meeting with the Governor, where his new boss explained to him what exactly he was going to be doing (simply put, a little of everything, from overlooking the campaign and the strategy to dealing with PR disasters, and quite a lot of speechwriting), he had met with the rest of the staff. They had been, as he had expected, a little guarded with him. He was a stranger here, he knew.
He spent his days reading, familiarizing himself with the polls, the state of the race, their opponent's advantages, and the issues on which they needed to focus their counter-attack. The data he examined were remarkably similar to those he had examined in DC, when he had first begun to take an interest in this election, after he had accepted the Governor's offer. He was well placed, but his opponent had been gaining points recently. Too many points.
Late afternoon that day, he called Ainsley and asked her how her first day had gone - she had been hired in a law firm, and she had had to begin soon, too.
He then gathered the staff - Colleen, the head of communications, Jim, the youngest of the team, speechwriter, Peter, Colleen's assistant, and strategist. They highlighted the points they had going for them, the ones which would cause them to lose points, then how to address their disadvantages. They also oversaw the campaign calendar, planning the Governor's appearances in the following weeks.
It was 2 A.M. when they were done, and Sam felt five years younger. He had always loved campaigns - the sleepless nights, the cold pizzas, the strategizing, the motel rooms and the energy which seemed to physically float in the headquarters.
He got home, and collapsed on the bed next to a sleeping Ainsley, thinking about everything they had to do.
The task was daunting. And challenging.
The Governor wasn't quite the outsider Bartlet had been, but he wasn't the most popular of the contestants either. The people of California seemed to long for change, and it was going to be Sam's job to build an image that would allow them to choose to re-elect the Governor.
An interesting prospect, he thought, drifting to sleep.
**********
A few months later, he was ready to take back everything he had thought about liking campaigns. They were in the Governor's campaign headquarters, waiting for the election to be called, and he felt so nervous he was ready to scream. The rest of the staff was running around, snapping into their phones, a cup of coffee in one hand, a sheet of polling data in the other.
It was close.
Too close for comfort.
In the middle of the chaos, the Governor stood, calmly taking in the surrounding confusion.
"How do you do it?" Sam asked, a little unnerved by the man's cool attitude.
"Do what?"
"Be so relaxed."
He smiled. "You think I have a choice? If I begin to panic, they're all going to become clinically insane."
"Or else they would all get a grip and try to calm you down."
"Maybe," he admitted, then gestured to the screen. "Looks like the President is going to be re elected," he said.
"I know," Sam said. He had been following the election, and he had to admit that Bruno hadn't done too bad a job. Bartlet would be re elected, he didn't doubt it. He was having a heated debate with himself, now - to call Washington or not to call?
He had a weekly chat with CJ, and he called Toby from time to time, but would they be happy to hear from him today? After all, he had left during a re election campaign.
"Do you regret leaving?" the Governor asked him. "I may lose today, and he's gonna win."
"I don't," Sam said, his tone firm. "It was time for me to go, and let someone who was still more or less 'fresh' do it."
The governor nodded, and sighed. "When the hell are they going to announce?"
"Do you want to see the speeches?" Sam offered, as a diversion.
"I know them by heart already. I just hope I won't mix them up."
Sam smiled, knowing that it wasn't likely to happen. The Governor was a bit of a control freak with things like that.
Colleen's voice rose above the noise. "Sir, they have the results."
The noise level dropped to zero in the blink of an eye, and Sam looked for Ainsley. She was next to Colleen, in front of the TV set. He walked to her, and they stared at the screen.
"We are now ready to call the California Gubernatorial election for Governor Adams."
The sudden explosion of cheers in the headquarters made him grimace, but then, Ainsley hugged him tightly, and someone put a CD on the player, and when he turned to the Governor, he was smiling so widely his cheeks hurt.
No, he didn't regret leaving Washington.
March 2002, White House
Sam looked at his colleagues. He had asked them to come to his office during lunch time, so he could talk to them. Now that they were here, he was beginning to wonder how he was going to bring it up.
"So, what did you want?" Josh asked impatiently.
His friend always sounded impatient whenever talking to him these days, Sam thought, feeling slightly depressed, as he usually did whenever Josh brushed him off.
"I... I've resigned," Sam said.
Well, he hadn't meant to beak the news to them quite so brutally, but at least, it was done. He had said it.
The others froze, and looked at him.
"You've what?" Toby asked, the 'I'm sure you didn't say what I think you just said' clearly implied in his tone.
"Resigned," Sam said firmly. "The governor of California offered me a job, and I accepted it. I talked to the President yesterday, I gave the letter to Leo this morning, I'm moving in... I don't know, probably six weeks."
"Why?" Josh asked, sounding honestly surprised.
Toby grimaced, CJ put her hand to her eyes, and Sam shrugged.
"Look, Josh..."
"No, you... You're actually leaving now, in the middle of all this?"
"Of all what, Josh? The State of the Union is done, the MS thing is dealt with, and for God's sake, I'm not gonna miss that opportunity."
"Miss that... what, working for the President isn't enough now?" Josh laughed.
No, it wasn't, it hadn't been for quite some time, but he didn't want to point that out to Josh, of all people.
"Josh, it's done," he said.
"Yeah, I can see that you haven't lost your ability to, you know, throw your life out of the window in a blink," Josh said bitterly.
Sam started, hurt.
He refrained from telling his friend that he had once found his ability to move on without looking back pretty useful. He would have regretted it, he knew.
"Josh," CJ said softly.
Josh looked at all of them, then fled the office, not bothering to close the door behind him.
"He'll apologize," CJ said.
"I doubt it," Sam replied.
"Sam, that was just - "
"Josh being a jerk, yes, I know. I should be used to that by now, but I'm not, so can we move on?"
She bit her lip and nodded.
Toby asked, "What will you be doing?"
"Helping on the campaign. If he's re-elected, I'll be his chief of staff."
"That's great," CJ said sadly, and he nodded his thanks. They were the first to actually ask him what he was leaving for, and it didn't surprise him that they would be the ones to bother. He shook himself as soon as the thought crossed his mind. He was darkening the situation. They all loved him, they were just caught up in their lives, dealing with their own bitterness, trying to survive. They all had a lot to deal with.
"What about Ainsley?" Toby asked.
"I'm going with him, of course," Ainsley said from the door, and Sam grinned at her, under the entertained glances of Toby and CJ.
He always grinned like an idiot when she entered the room, except when he was too tired to actually smile.
"She doesn't think I should be left alone," Sam said, shrugging.
"She's right," CJ smiled.
"No, she's not."
"Who would feed you if she didn't go with you?" CJ teased.
"I'll have you know that of the two of us, I'm the cook!"
Just because he had eaten a lot of takeaway food in the last few years didn't mean he couldn't cook. And it didn't prove his inner inability to take care of himself either. He was a strong, independent man who didn't need a woman to do the dishes or the laundry. His days of turning white shirts to pink were long gone.
He * could * live alone. He just didn't want to anymore.
CJ snickered. "Well, at least, now, we know who's wearing the pants in this relationship."
"As if there was ever any doubt," Ainsley said.
Sam let them joke at his expense. Not that he had much of a choice.
As Ainsley and CJ continued to tease him, he began to smile a little himself. He was immensely happy that she was willing to follow him across the country. He was relieved that she trusted him enough to know that he wouldn't think she was weak for following him.
He tried to convey the message by looking at her that way - the way he looked at her when he wanted to thank her for being her.
She smiled softly, and nodded.
Okay, then.
Now, he just had to pack up his life and cross the country, like he had done when he was eighteen. Except that he would be less scared, and less alone, this time.
**********
Six weeks later
They gathered at the bar - their favorite one, the one where they always went when they wanted to get seriously plastered. CJ and Toby, Donna, Ginger and Bonnie. Ainsley was there too, protesting that she still had stuff to pack.
"Ainsley, we still have tomorrow to do that," Sam pointed out. "It's the last night we'll spend with them in a long time."
She had finally agreed to come, to Sam's relief. He didn't want to be alone to say goodbye to them.
Josh wasn't here. He had a date with Amy, he had claimed. Sam hadn't really expected him to come, but it had still hurt a little. Josh had barely talked to him in the past five weeks, and then only about work. He acted as if Sam had committed the worst sin ever, and after a while, Sam had decided that he'd had it. He knew Josh, he knew that one day, his friend would wake up and realize that he had been wrong. In the meantime, he didn't have the time to try and convince him that his resignation wasn't a personal attack.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Donna asked worriedly, dragging him back to the present.
"Sure," he said. The young woman had tried to ensure that he was okay with the 'Josh situation', and he didn't know what more he could do to convince her that he was fine. "Donna, we've been at odds for quite some time now. He wants to be an ass, that's his right, but frankly, I'm tired of it."
"I know," she said, and he smiled. He knew Donna had tried to talk some sense into Josh recently, and that it had created tensions between them.
"Thanks for trying anyway," he told her gently.
"You're welcome. He'll change his mind. He'll see the light, he'll be sorry for the way he treated his friends, and that day, we'll all kick his butt for not listening to us," she said.
"Yeah, and there'll be groveling involved."
"Definitely."
They looked at each other, laughed a little. "So, what will you do to him to make him pay?" he asked, and she laughed some more.
Josh had changed a lot in the past few months, as they all had, and most of the changes in him weren't for the best. He had become an arrogant son of a bitch (okay, he'd always been arrogant, but not to the point of shouting down absolutely everyone who tried to argue differently than he did), he had become so focused on scoring points that he didn't even choose his battles anymore, and most importantly, he had become unfriendly with everyone, except maybe Donna before she began defending Sam's right to go on with his life.
They were all hoping that he would revert back to what he was at the beginning of the administration. The sooner the better.
Donna grabbed his arm. "Hey, it's your last night in town, let's have fun," she said gently.
His stomach constricted a little. He was more nervous than he liked to admit - he was leaving a high-profile job to join an uncertain campaign, and even if that kind of decision had brought him success before, there was no telling what would happen this time.
He was going to have to meet new colleagues - and maybe, hopefully, new friends.
He was going to miss the ones he had here a lot.
But Donna was right. Tonight was a time to party.
**********
One hour later, everyone was well on his way to drunkenness. The assistants were giggling like schoolgirls, telling (once again) the tale of Sam falling from his boat. All the women were laughing hard, and Toby was trying to hide a smile in his beer.
"Okay, I'm gonna need more alcohol to hear you all ridicule me through the night," Sam finally said, eager to flee the scene. "Anybody want anything?"
They all did, and CJ seemed to take pity on him and offered to help him. As they made their way to the bar, he asked, "Afraid I'll drop the drinks, Ceej?"
"Well, given your legendary sense of equilibrium," she winked.
"Oh, come on, there was a heavy swell, the boat was pitching," he tried to protest again.
"Yes, but it was still pretty funny," she said.
"Whatever," he sighed. "And how come no one ever laughs at your, how shall I put it... habit, of falling into pools?"
She shrugged. "I'm me, you're, well, you."
He nodded. "Yeah, that explains everything," he admitted.
She shook her head, and turned serious. "Are you okay?" she asked. "It has to be difficult."
"Seeing everyone mock me?"
"No, leaving."
"We all thought about it, more than once, especially in the last months," he pointed out.
"Yes. But you're the first one to go through with it."
"I know. I... It's a little scary. It's a big step to the unknown there, and I'll have responsibilities I didn't have here, and... I'm gonna live near my parents again."
That was a point he tried to avoid thinking about. His parents who were deep into the divorce procedures. His parents who didn't look at each other anymore.
His parents who had asked him to choose between them.
He resented them for the situation they had put him in. He understood why his mother had this attitude, but it hadn't made it any easier to bear.
"Sam?" CJ asked, concerned.
"It's fine," he smiled. "They just... I spend my time listening to them tearing the other apart, and it hurts."
She nodded. "I'm sorry about that."
He shrugged. "It's not really your fault, you know."
She looked at him carefully. "Not really?"
"Not really," he confirmed.
"Thank you so much for absolving me," she laughed.
"I'm a magnanimous kind of guy."
"That you are," she said thoughtfully. "That you are. And how come you can still say magnanimous after what you've already had to drink?"
"I'm also a real man, one who can hold his liquor very well."
"Whatever you say, Spanky."
**********
Two hours later, Ainsley's place
Toby was shifting from foot to foot, seeming horribly embarrassed. They were at Ainsley's doorstep, she had gone in, to finish packing, and to let them say goodbye privately.
"So..." Toby began.
Eloquent, Sam thought. "So..." he answered.
Eloquent too.
"Are you... You'll be ready tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'm mostly done. I'll help Ainsley, I guess. I'm sorry we couldn't find anyone to do my job before I left, it's not going to make it easier. For you, I mean."
"Oh, we'll find someone eventually."
'If you don't scare them all before they gather the guts to apply,' Sam thought, but chose not to say.
His boss had almost been funny in his attempts to discourage potential candidates. He claimed they weren't good enough, everybody else claimed they just weren't Sam. Sam knew his boss would find someone sooner or later (he hoped, for his sake, that it would be sooner). He just needed time to accept the fact that his deputy wasn't coming back.
"Did you and the President..." Toby began to ask.
Sam bit back a grimace. His relationship with the President had been strained at best since he had told him he was leaving. They had both been polite, but the tension was there, and everyone could see it. More and more, Sam had distanced himself from the meetings, to the point where he had barely seen Bartlet in the last two weeks - he had discussed it with Toby and Leo, and they had agreed that this kind of tension during their meetings wasn't productive for anyone, and they had allowed him to make himself scarce.
The last day, Bartlet had asked him to come into his office, and had thanked him for the work he had done in the administration, and the advice he gave him. "I hope the Governor will appreciate your input as I have, Sam," he said.
"Thank you, sir," Sam had said, shakily.
"Sam... We may not agree anymore, but I hope you know that you'll always be a part of the family."
He knew. He also knew that it would take some time for them to get along again, for the bitterness to fade away.
Coming back to Toby, he smiled a little. "I wouldn't say that we left on good terms, exactly, but I think with time, we should be fine."
Toby nodded. "Good, that's good."
"Toby, I'm not dropping off the face of the world," Sam felt obligated to point out. "I'll be in California. You'll come there eventually. I'll call you guys, I'll write."
"It won't be the same."
Of course it wouldn't. They had worked together for years, often in tense situations, shared motel rooms, done late night writing sessions...
He was going to miss them too.
"I know," he said. "But hey, three years at that job are enough. And God knows I don't have anything against the sun, and the sea, and the beach... I may begin surfing again."
"Oh God," Toby said, mock-seriously, and Sam grinned.
"I'll have you know that I was quite good, once upon a time."
"Did you hit your head? You seem delusional, all of a sudden."
"Very funny," Sam growled.
"You sure?" Toby asked.
"About the funniness?" Sam asked.
"About the leaving."
Sam smiled. "I am."
"Because..."
His boss trailed off, not willing to finish, and Sam nodded. "Toby, it's time for me to move on."
Toby chuckled curtly. "No, it's not."
"When was the last time I had a good idea, Toby? And even when I do, you're not willing to listen to it anymore." His boss was about to argue and he raised a hand to stop him. "I could fight my way back, but I'm not sure it's worth it. Simple truth is, I want to move on before I become completely unable to write for anyone but President Bartlet."
Toby nodded. That he could understand. "Do you think it'll be okay in California?"
Sam smiled. He had listened to a lot of the Governor's speeches, he had familiarized himself with his style, had written less and less for the President, so he could break some of his habits. He had begun writing for the Governor, recently, and had sent a few drafts over to him - to see if they were okay.
The Governor had been pleased with his work, and from what little he knew of the man, he wasn't going to get more praise than that.
"Yeah, it'll be fine," he assured his boss. Former boss. That was going to take some getting used to, Sam thought, before checking his watch.
Wow, 3 A.M. He was never going to be able to get up tomorrow. "Look, I have to go sleep now, or else I won't even be able to drag myself to the airport tomorrow."
Toby nodded. "Yeah, I'll... go home."
The two men stood on the sidewalk again, not talking, each of them waiting for the other to move. After a while, Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh for crying out...," he muttered, and took a step forward to hug Toby, briefly.
He heard Toby chuckle nervously, and he patted him on the arm, before letting him go.
"I'll miss you. And, you know, thank you. For all the time you took to explain to me how I could be better. I'm sure I could keep you here all night if I had to list all you did for me, but I really, really, want to sleep."
Toby smiled and said gruffly, "Yeah, and, hum, same here". He put his hands in his coat pockets, and looked at the ground and Sam laughed a little and opened his building door. As he was about to enter, Toby called him back.
"Sam?"
He turned around, and his boss came to him and hugged him, briefly, then pushed him back and hurried to his car, not looking back again.
Sam swallowed past the lump in his throat and entered his building. "The hardest part is done," he told himself.
**********
California, 2002
Sam began his new work two days after his plane had landed. He and Ainsley had barely had the time to open a few boxes in their apartment. He hadn't even seen his parents yet.
After a meeting with the Governor, where his new boss explained to him what exactly he was going to be doing (simply put, a little of everything, from overlooking the campaign and the strategy to dealing with PR disasters, and quite a lot of speechwriting), he had met with the rest of the staff. They had been, as he had expected, a little guarded with him. He was a stranger here, he knew.
He spent his days reading, familiarizing himself with the polls, the state of the race, their opponent's advantages, and the issues on which they needed to focus their counter-attack. The data he examined were remarkably similar to those he had examined in DC, when he had first begun to take an interest in this election, after he had accepted the Governor's offer. He was well placed, but his opponent had been gaining points recently. Too many points.
Late afternoon that day, he called Ainsley and asked her how her first day had gone - she had been hired in a law firm, and she had had to begin soon, too.
He then gathered the staff - Colleen, the head of communications, Jim, the youngest of the team, speechwriter, Peter, Colleen's assistant, and strategist. They highlighted the points they had going for them, the ones which would cause them to lose points, then how to address their disadvantages. They also oversaw the campaign calendar, planning the Governor's appearances in the following weeks.
It was 2 A.M. when they were done, and Sam felt five years younger. He had always loved campaigns - the sleepless nights, the cold pizzas, the strategizing, the motel rooms and the energy which seemed to physically float in the headquarters.
He got home, and collapsed on the bed next to a sleeping Ainsley, thinking about everything they had to do.
The task was daunting. And challenging.
The Governor wasn't quite the outsider Bartlet had been, but he wasn't the most popular of the contestants either. The people of California seemed to long for change, and it was going to be Sam's job to build an image that would allow them to choose to re-elect the Governor.
An interesting prospect, he thought, drifting to sleep.
**********
A few months later, he was ready to take back everything he had thought about liking campaigns. They were in the Governor's campaign headquarters, waiting for the election to be called, and he felt so nervous he was ready to scream. The rest of the staff was running around, snapping into their phones, a cup of coffee in one hand, a sheet of polling data in the other.
It was close.
Too close for comfort.
In the middle of the chaos, the Governor stood, calmly taking in the surrounding confusion.
"How do you do it?" Sam asked, a little unnerved by the man's cool attitude.
"Do what?"
"Be so relaxed."
He smiled. "You think I have a choice? If I begin to panic, they're all going to become clinically insane."
"Or else they would all get a grip and try to calm you down."
"Maybe," he admitted, then gestured to the screen. "Looks like the President is going to be re elected," he said.
"I know," Sam said. He had been following the election, and he had to admit that Bruno hadn't done too bad a job. Bartlet would be re elected, he didn't doubt it. He was having a heated debate with himself, now - to call Washington or not to call?
He had a weekly chat with CJ, and he called Toby from time to time, but would they be happy to hear from him today? After all, he had left during a re election campaign.
"Do you regret leaving?" the Governor asked him. "I may lose today, and he's gonna win."
"I don't," Sam said, his tone firm. "It was time for me to go, and let someone who was still more or less 'fresh' do it."
The governor nodded, and sighed. "When the hell are they going to announce?"
"Do you want to see the speeches?" Sam offered, as a diversion.
"I know them by heart already. I just hope I won't mix them up."
Sam smiled, knowing that it wasn't likely to happen. The Governor was a bit of a control freak with things like that.
Colleen's voice rose above the noise. "Sir, they have the results."
The noise level dropped to zero in the blink of an eye, and Sam looked for Ainsley. She was next to Colleen, in front of the TV set. He walked to her, and they stared at the screen.
"We are now ready to call the California Gubernatorial election for Governor Adams."
The sudden explosion of cheers in the headquarters made him grimace, but then, Ainsley hugged him tightly, and someone put a CD on the player, and when he turned to the Governor, he was smiling so widely his cheeks hurt.
No, he didn't regret leaving Washington.