PART THREE
2014, Election night
Sam, unable to take the waiting anymore, slipped away from the room everyone had assembled in and got back to his room, on the same floor, trying not to flinch as his stomach tied up in knots regularly.
He was about to enter when Toby's voice startled him. "Tell me you're not thinking of bailing out on us."
"I'm not," he said defensively. "I'm, hum, they're getting loud, I can't focus down there."
"Yeah, I know. It's still close, we won't know until the end."
"I know."
"Are you okay?"
"What the hell were you thinking, pushing me to do this?" Sam hissed, giving up all pretense of serenity.
Toby shrugged. "You'll do great."
"Sure. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I'd be that disappointed if I lost."
"Sam..." Toby tried, but he waved him away. He didn't want to hear it.
He was scared like he had never been before.
What the hell had he been thinking when he had agreed to run?
He wasn't President material, it was ridiculous.
If only the others had tried to discourage him at least, maybe he wouldn't be in such a mess.
But, no, they had been the ones to come see him.
They had arrived, on a sunny morning of 2012, and they had had * the * talk, the one Toby had promised him on a cold evening in New Hampshire, and now, he was here, waiting to see if he would soon be called 'POTUS'.
Why the hell had he said 'yes'?
**********
2012, California
"So how are you?" Sam asked, motioning for Toby and CJ to sit down.
"Oh, same old. I sell soup to the average people," CJ said agreeably, and Sam rolled his eyes. She had decided to stay away from Washington after Josh's death, and had found a job, as a consultant for one of the biggest marketing firms of the country. Everyone knew she would never be happy doing that, but she claimed that politics didn't hold the same appeal to her that it had before.
Toby had told Sam, a few days after CJ had begun her new job, that she was waiting for the right opportunity to come back. "Should we talk about it now?" he had asked.
Sam was still busy savoring his re-election victory, and convincing Jim that the scandal hadn't changed his place in the team, and he had pleaded, "Not yet."
He had eight more years now, anyway, he thought. Let Hoynes deal with the White House for his two terms, then we'll see.
Toby hadn't insisted.
Sam had the feeling that it wouldn't be so easy this time. It was early to make a decision, but they needed to get it in the open, then he would have to have a talk with Ainsley and Alex, and consider his options, his chances, and how he was going to handle it.
"So, what brings you here?" he asked.
"We need a reason?" CJ teased.
"Never," he sincerely said. "But I notice we tend to see each other only at great events, so I assumed - "
"You're right," Toby said bluntly. "Sam, President Hoynes isn't going to run again. We want you to do it."
If Toby had wanted to make an impression, he'd been successful. The silence that followed was almost deafening. Ainsley got to her feet and muttered something about coffee and cookies and left the room hurriedly.
Once she was gone, CJ elbowed Toby. "Great job, Grouchy ! You scared her off. Not to mention Sam, who's turning blue because he has forgotten how to breathe."
He smiled tiredly at her attempt at humor, but he was too busy thinking of the implications to really care. Hoynes wouldn't run? Hoynes would have been the DNC candidate, it would have made his life much more complicated to run against him, and he had half expected to be advised to wait another four years.
"You've had time to think, Sam," Toby pointed out calmly, reminding him of the discussion they had had.
Yes, he had.
It was early, but they really did have to talk.
Once Ainsley was back, smiling sheepishly and without coffee, she asked, "How do you even know the President - "
"He told us."
"Anna," Sam guessed, and they both nodded grimly. The First Lady's fight against depression was well known. Her health must have been worsening again.
"He'll announce it officially after the midterms, so this is of course a secret," CJ said.
"So all Washington knows it already," Sam guessed, and Toby smiled at that.
"Yes, but they don't know we're here today. I lived in New York, CJ was presumably out of the loop for the last months, they don't know we're still aware of the comings and goings. Hoynes told us that in a very public party, so officially, we don't know anything."
"He wanted to give you time to prepare before he goes public with it," CJ finished.
"He told you that?" That was surprising.
"Of course. Sam, everyone knows you're going to run sooner or later. And..."
"And it better be sooner, when I still have the energy to do it," he completed.
"Pretty much."
"Oh God," he moaned, and in hindsight, he supposed that summed it up pretty well.
**********
One week later he had spoken to Ainsley, Alex, Jed Bartlet, and Hoynes. The latter two had managed to convince him that running was a good idea and the former had given their approval, Alex a little more reluctantly than his mother. Sam knew that his freedom would be limited if he was elected, and as a teenager, that wasn't something his son would take well.
He had then set up a top secret meeting with Colleen, Pete and Jim, the ones he trusted most, the ones he was sure he wanted on board, and had told them what was happening, and that he wanted them to work for him on the campaign, trying to remain calm when Peter asked him three times in a row whether he was really sure he needed him.
God, he was young, Sam had thought then. Had he ever been that young?
As he had promised, Hoynes announced he would be retiring at the end of his first term three weeks after the midterms, and Sam let a few more weeks go by, then launched his campaign.
Toby and CJ came to live in California a few months before the election, to give a hand with the campaign.
They also made a few polls, and their trouble began.
"Your numbers are in the boundaries we were expecting," CJ said after she had analyzed the data.
"But?"
"We're gonna have to do something for Ainsley."
"Oh God," he sighed, feeling a headache creeping on him.
"She's republican," Toby pointed out.
Colleen watched them, slightly amused. Sam and her had had this discussion already, and it hadn't been pretty.
"Yes, as she has always been."
"Sam, the public just doesn't understand why she doesn't simply register as a democrat."
"Because she's a republican," Sam explained as if he was talking to a two year old. "Toby, she has her convictions - "
"And the public doesn't understand why she doesn't share yours," his friend went on. "It wouldn't be so bad if she didn't claim them, but Sam, she's been known to go on a talk show and tell the presenter that you were full of crap for preaching about gun control."
Sam almost smiled. He was so used to their disagreements now that he barely even noticed when they were arguing. She helped him see the other side sometimes. She kept him awake, she kept him careful, and she made sure he always considered both sides of an issue before making a decision.
Couldn't the American people take that as an asset?
"And here we go," Toby groused, "Idealist Sam The Return."
Sam frowned. "Okay, let's get a few things straight. I am not, under any circumstances, asking my wife to change the way she thinks, or to shut up until I'm elected. We'll have to make the people understand that."
"There's another thing," CJ asked, obviously trying to stay away from the topic for now. "They don't see her as... how shall I put it... First Lady material. She's always managed to work, even during your two terms here, she's, well..."
"What, they have a problem because she wears professional clothes?" Sam asked, before seeing CJ nod. "Oh, for crying... CJ, she's not going to wear long pink dresses to appear more feminine."
"I know," CJ said. "And... pink dresses?"
Sam blushed and shrugged. "Never mind. What else?"
"Well, there's the matter of your wedding," Colleen stepped in.
"Great," he sighed.
"She was two months pregnant when you got married - "
"It was bad planning on our part, what the hell do you want us to do?" he asked, exasperated. "Go back in time? It's done, now."
"But you're not the usual couple. You never were."
"The fact that we're still married, after ten years, doesn't count, then?" he asked, and took in the faces of his staff. "Thought so," he muttered.
"We don't have to deal with all this just now," CJ cautioned. "We just brought this up because it wouldn't be a bad idea to keep the problem in mind, and think about it. Maybe we'll find a way to change the image the public has of the two of you."
"Let's hope so," Sam said, not convinced he wanted his and Ainsley's image to change.
**********
He had had to compromise, to an extent.
The hardest thing had been to get the public past what Sam had done as a Bartlet staffer, past his wedding, and the Laurie case was brought up again, as everyone had expected.
What had been more damaging to the campaign had been Sam's position on the death penalty. He was strongly opposed to it, and he was called on that several times. His opponent reminded the public that Sam had pardoned several inmates, and Sam had told them loud and clear, that he wouldn't act differently as the President.
Some of his hardest fights with Toby had been on that matter.
"Sam, you have to show that you're open to argument," Toby bellowed.
"I am. I'm just not going to change my mind."
"They'll say it's because you don't want to do the dirty job," Toby said.
"They won't be 100% wrong."
"They'll equate it with your ability to send soldiers to their death if need be."
"Then, I'll have to explain the difference between a cold blooded execution and a war, Toby. And I'll have to recite the statistics of the crime rate in countries applying the death penalty, as opposed to countries who don't."
"Sam, you live in a country where a large amount of people are in favor of - "
"I don't care, Toby. The duty of government is also to educate the citizens, and damn it, I'll do that. And if the only place I'll be able to do that is the campaign, then so be it."
"You won't change the way they think in a few months. At least, wait until the election is over."
"Yes, and then we'll be in office, and you'll tell me about numbers, and I'll listen to you, and... That's a compromise I'm just not going to make, Toby."
Toby had argued. Then argued some more.
Then he had sent CJ, and Colleen, to try and change his mind.
Then he had sat down, resigned to the fact that Sam wasn't going to cave in, and he had designed a strategy.
**********
2014, Sam's room
A knock on the door startled Sam. Ainsley poked her head in.
"It shouldn't be long, now," she said.
He nodded, his hands getting cold with the fear.
It was annoying, the way his hands seemed to freeze over each time he was anxious.
It had happened before, the day of the debate.
"Sam, you okay?"
He smiled. "Yeah, I just... there's a little too much adrenaline floating down there," he said.
She could only agree. The people who weren't shouting in their phones to get better estimates were busy going over drafts of the speech that would never be used anyway, the good versions having been locked hours before. There were people everywhere, staring at TV sets, biting their nails, crossing fingers.
She was feeling a little overwhelmed herself.
The level of noise suddenly exploded, music filled the room, coming from the common room, and Sam blanched.
"Guess they called it then," he said flatly.
**********
A few weeks earlier
Sam and Ainsley were waiting backstage, five minutes away from the presidential debate broadcast. He was fidgeting his ring, the only external sign of nervousness he displayed.
Toby was pacing the room, CJ was shooting him annoyed looks, and all was well with the world, Ainsley thought. Colleen came in. "They said to get ready, sir," she said, addressing Sam, who gulped and nodded jerkily. Jim and Pete, who had been in the room with them, left then, shaking hands with Sam, their serious, grave composure doing little to lighten the mood.
CJ hugged Sam and left, dragging Toby before he had the time to begin talking about language again. Colleen began to shake his hand before hugging him. She looked slightly surprised when she let him go, and he smiled. "Don't forget to shoot me if I begin talking about Medcare," he said.
"The Secret Services would frown on that, but I'll do my best," she said efficiently before leaving the room.
"Do you think I should be worried that she took this literally?" Sam asked lightly.
Ainsley laughed. "I don't think she's the one you should be worried about," she said. "Remember, Toby is in the room."
"Right. Wish me luck?"
She nodded and kissed him, surprised to feel his lips so dry. When she took his hands, they were cold as ice.
"You're terrified," she exclaimed.
"Well, I'm going on TV. For a debate," he pointed out. "It's big."
"You want something?"
He shook his head and smiled reassuringly. "You don't look all that reassured yourself," he noted gently.
"I'm moral support," she said past the lump in her throat. She was almost as scared as he was sometimes. Thankfully, they rarely balked at the same time, and one of them could usually reassure the other.
Not today, though.
A knock on the door startled them and they got out, to be escorted to the stage, adrenaline helping them to go forward, always forward, until a hand stopped Ainsley and Sam went on alone, taking his place on the stage, under the spotlights.
**********
Later that night, Toby was annoying them with his post-debate analysis as the rest of them partied.
"We haven't won," Toby said, for the hundredth time this night.
"We haven't lost either," Sam pointed out. "We've always known that it would be a race. Billings isn't stupid, and he did make good points. In the end, all this will come down to whom the American people likes best, and whom they agree with the most."
"And let's not forget the trust factor, and the fact that Bartlet is still well liked. People remember who we were," CJ added.
Ainsley didn't miss Sam's grimace. He was tired of being compared to his former mentor. He was grateful for the opportunity he had had to work in the White House, and he knew it had taught him a lot, but he had made his way since then. He was ready to wave goodbye to their mythical past in the West Wing, and Ainsley was glad for it.
He didn't deserve to constantly worry about what Jed Bartlet would have done.
He deserved to be remembered for who he was, not who he had helped, a decade ago.
She hoped he would get the chance.
**********
2014, Sam's room
As the noise increased, Ainsley came in and she took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
He smiled, and suddenly, there was no trace left of the self doubt he had been harboring a while before. He seemed confident, now, almost at peace, and when there was a knock on the door, he didn't hesitate to get it opened.
Toby was on the other side, smiling broadly. "You're wanted in the room, Mister President," he said. "I think your opponent will call you soon."
Sam nodded, said he was coming, and closed the door. He turned to her then, and said, "Well, let's go then."
He took Ainsley's hand, and together, they walked out.
**********
It was only one hour later that they were finally able to talk to each other again.
As soon as they had stepped into the room, Sam, then Ainsley, had been hugged by CJ, then Colleen, Jim and Peter, and finally Toby. The rest of the staff was clapping so hard that they couldn't have talked even if they had tried to. CJ had to scream that they had to go talk to the press.
It's at that point that Colleen handed Sam a phone, and ushered him to a deserted hallway. The Secret Services, a constant presence since the convention, followed him and the rest of them waited there, not trying to speak in all the noise.
When Sam came back, he and Ainsley went to the press and delivered a statement, then Ainsley left him to say the speech that Toby and him had crafted, that Jim made better and that Sam had rewritten again, a few hours earlier.
When that had been done, everyone took turns to congratulate them again, and Sam insisted on thanking all the people who were there.
Then President Hoynes called him, and Sam had a hard time not to laugh when an assistant handed him the phone as if she was handling a venomous snake. Sam found a quiet place, wondering what Hoynes wanted.
"Mister President," he said.
"President-elect," Hoynes answered.
Sam refrained from asking him to call him Sam. He had to lose that habit anyway. "What can I do for you, sir?" he asked instead.
"Nothing, I just wanted to congratulate you in person. I'm glad you're the one who won."
"Me too," Sam joked, surprised to realize that he meant it. He wasn't so sure he wanted to win a few minutes ago, but now that all was done, he was left wondering how he would have taken it if he had lost. "How's the First Lady doing?"
"Eager to get out of here, and of the public eye," Hoynes answered, a small tinge of regret in his voice. "We'll talk again during the transition, but I wanted to make sure that you weren't too..."
"In over my head?" Sam smiled.
"Something like that."
"I will be once I realize," Sam responded, "but for now, I'm too pressured to think about the future."
Hoynes had a quiet laugh, and added, "I'll let you go back to your party, then. Enjoy it."
"Thank you, sir," Sam said.
"We'll talk again soon," Hoynes assured him.
After Hoynes, Sam also took a call from his parents, and from Ainsley's.
They were finally able to get away from the chaos that the suite had become and to talk to each other.
"You holding up?" Sam asked.
"Great. You were incredible on the stage, by the way."
"It was a good speech," he said, and there was a touch of sadness in his voice.
"Sam?"
"It's just... When I thought that this day would come, I always envisioned Josh and Donna being there," he said.
Donna hadn't been able to come, claiming that she was too overworked for that. Everyone had guessed that, as happy as she was for Sam, she too would have been thinking of Josh all day. She had called earlier, though, and Ainsley didn't doubt that she would call again, later in the day.
"I know," she said soothingly. She knew how much Josh had been a part of Sam's life, even in the worst days, even when he was a jerk, even when the two friends weren't on speaking terms.
"I miss them," he said.
Ben.
Josh.
Leo and Jed Bartlet, who had both claimed to be too old to make the trip, but who, Ainsley suspected, were hiding that the MS was progressing, so they wouldn't spoil the day for them. There had been something in Abbey's voice the last time they had talked, a resignation, a sadness, that hadn't been there before.
Maybe even the feeling of family all the staff had shared in the late 90's. It wouldn't be the same, this time. His friends would be at his service, and there would be new people to welcome, and learn to work with.
He would be their boss, not their friend - not while he was in office.
There was no way to know what the future was holding for them, Ainsley reflected.
Curiously, it had never seemed quite so frightening before.
2014, Election night
Sam, unable to take the waiting anymore, slipped away from the room everyone had assembled in and got back to his room, on the same floor, trying not to flinch as his stomach tied up in knots regularly.
He was about to enter when Toby's voice startled him. "Tell me you're not thinking of bailing out on us."
"I'm not," he said defensively. "I'm, hum, they're getting loud, I can't focus down there."
"Yeah, I know. It's still close, we won't know until the end."
"I know."
"Are you okay?"
"What the hell were you thinking, pushing me to do this?" Sam hissed, giving up all pretense of serenity.
Toby shrugged. "You'll do great."
"Sure. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I'd be that disappointed if I lost."
"Sam..." Toby tried, but he waved him away. He didn't want to hear it.
He was scared like he had never been before.
What the hell had he been thinking when he had agreed to run?
He wasn't President material, it was ridiculous.
If only the others had tried to discourage him at least, maybe he wouldn't be in such a mess.
But, no, they had been the ones to come see him.
They had arrived, on a sunny morning of 2012, and they had had * the * talk, the one Toby had promised him on a cold evening in New Hampshire, and now, he was here, waiting to see if he would soon be called 'POTUS'.
Why the hell had he said 'yes'?
**********
2012, California
"So how are you?" Sam asked, motioning for Toby and CJ to sit down.
"Oh, same old. I sell soup to the average people," CJ said agreeably, and Sam rolled his eyes. She had decided to stay away from Washington after Josh's death, and had found a job, as a consultant for one of the biggest marketing firms of the country. Everyone knew she would never be happy doing that, but she claimed that politics didn't hold the same appeal to her that it had before.
Toby had told Sam, a few days after CJ had begun her new job, that she was waiting for the right opportunity to come back. "Should we talk about it now?" he had asked.
Sam was still busy savoring his re-election victory, and convincing Jim that the scandal hadn't changed his place in the team, and he had pleaded, "Not yet."
He had eight more years now, anyway, he thought. Let Hoynes deal with the White House for his two terms, then we'll see.
Toby hadn't insisted.
Sam had the feeling that it wouldn't be so easy this time. It was early to make a decision, but they needed to get it in the open, then he would have to have a talk with Ainsley and Alex, and consider his options, his chances, and how he was going to handle it.
"So, what brings you here?" he asked.
"We need a reason?" CJ teased.
"Never," he sincerely said. "But I notice we tend to see each other only at great events, so I assumed - "
"You're right," Toby said bluntly. "Sam, President Hoynes isn't going to run again. We want you to do it."
If Toby had wanted to make an impression, he'd been successful. The silence that followed was almost deafening. Ainsley got to her feet and muttered something about coffee and cookies and left the room hurriedly.
Once she was gone, CJ elbowed Toby. "Great job, Grouchy ! You scared her off. Not to mention Sam, who's turning blue because he has forgotten how to breathe."
He smiled tiredly at her attempt at humor, but he was too busy thinking of the implications to really care. Hoynes wouldn't run? Hoynes would have been the DNC candidate, it would have made his life much more complicated to run against him, and he had half expected to be advised to wait another four years.
"You've had time to think, Sam," Toby pointed out calmly, reminding him of the discussion they had had.
Yes, he had.
It was early, but they really did have to talk.
Once Ainsley was back, smiling sheepishly and without coffee, she asked, "How do you even know the President - "
"He told us."
"Anna," Sam guessed, and they both nodded grimly. The First Lady's fight against depression was well known. Her health must have been worsening again.
"He'll announce it officially after the midterms, so this is of course a secret," CJ said.
"So all Washington knows it already," Sam guessed, and Toby smiled at that.
"Yes, but they don't know we're here today. I lived in New York, CJ was presumably out of the loop for the last months, they don't know we're still aware of the comings and goings. Hoynes told us that in a very public party, so officially, we don't know anything."
"He wanted to give you time to prepare before he goes public with it," CJ finished.
"He told you that?" That was surprising.
"Of course. Sam, everyone knows you're going to run sooner or later. And..."
"And it better be sooner, when I still have the energy to do it," he completed.
"Pretty much."
"Oh God," he moaned, and in hindsight, he supposed that summed it up pretty well.
**********
One week later he had spoken to Ainsley, Alex, Jed Bartlet, and Hoynes. The latter two had managed to convince him that running was a good idea and the former had given their approval, Alex a little more reluctantly than his mother. Sam knew that his freedom would be limited if he was elected, and as a teenager, that wasn't something his son would take well.
He had then set up a top secret meeting with Colleen, Pete and Jim, the ones he trusted most, the ones he was sure he wanted on board, and had told them what was happening, and that he wanted them to work for him on the campaign, trying to remain calm when Peter asked him three times in a row whether he was really sure he needed him.
God, he was young, Sam had thought then. Had he ever been that young?
As he had promised, Hoynes announced he would be retiring at the end of his first term three weeks after the midterms, and Sam let a few more weeks go by, then launched his campaign.
Toby and CJ came to live in California a few months before the election, to give a hand with the campaign.
They also made a few polls, and their trouble began.
"Your numbers are in the boundaries we were expecting," CJ said after she had analyzed the data.
"But?"
"We're gonna have to do something for Ainsley."
"Oh God," he sighed, feeling a headache creeping on him.
"She's republican," Toby pointed out.
Colleen watched them, slightly amused. Sam and her had had this discussion already, and it hadn't been pretty.
"Yes, as she has always been."
"Sam, the public just doesn't understand why she doesn't simply register as a democrat."
"Because she's a republican," Sam explained as if he was talking to a two year old. "Toby, she has her convictions - "
"And the public doesn't understand why she doesn't share yours," his friend went on. "It wouldn't be so bad if she didn't claim them, but Sam, she's been known to go on a talk show and tell the presenter that you were full of crap for preaching about gun control."
Sam almost smiled. He was so used to their disagreements now that he barely even noticed when they were arguing. She helped him see the other side sometimes. She kept him awake, she kept him careful, and she made sure he always considered both sides of an issue before making a decision.
Couldn't the American people take that as an asset?
"And here we go," Toby groused, "Idealist Sam The Return."
Sam frowned. "Okay, let's get a few things straight. I am not, under any circumstances, asking my wife to change the way she thinks, or to shut up until I'm elected. We'll have to make the people understand that."
"There's another thing," CJ asked, obviously trying to stay away from the topic for now. "They don't see her as... how shall I put it... First Lady material. She's always managed to work, even during your two terms here, she's, well..."
"What, they have a problem because she wears professional clothes?" Sam asked, before seeing CJ nod. "Oh, for crying... CJ, she's not going to wear long pink dresses to appear more feminine."
"I know," CJ said. "And... pink dresses?"
Sam blushed and shrugged. "Never mind. What else?"
"Well, there's the matter of your wedding," Colleen stepped in.
"Great," he sighed.
"She was two months pregnant when you got married - "
"It was bad planning on our part, what the hell do you want us to do?" he asked, exasperated. "Go back in time? It's done, now."
"But you're not the usual couple. You never were."
"The fact that we're still married, after ten years, doesn't count, then?" he asked, and took in the faces of his staff. "Thought so," he muttered.
"We don't have to deal with all this just now," CJ cautioned. "We just brought this up because it wouldn't be a bad idea to keep the problem in mind, and think about it. Maybe we'll find a way to change the image the public has of the two of you."
"Let's hope so," Sam said, not convinced he wanted his and Ainsley's image to change.
**********
He had had to compromise, to an extent.
The hardest thing had been to get the public past what Sam had done as a Bartlet staffer, past his wedding, and the Laurie case was brought up again, as everyone had expected.
What had been more damaging to the campaign had been Sam's position on the death penalty. He was strongly opposed to it, and he was called on that several times. His opponent reminded the public that Sam had pardoned several inmates, and Sam had told them loud and clear, that he wouldn't act differently as the President.
Some of his hardest fights with Toby had been on that matter.
"Sam, you have to show that you're open to argument," Toby bellowed.
"I am. I'm just not going to change my mind."
"They'll say it's because you don't want to do the dirty job," Toby said.
"They won't be 100% wrong."
"They'll equate it with your ability to send soldiers to their death if need be."
"Then, I'll have to explain the difference between a cold blooded execution and a war, Toby. And I'll have to recite the statistics of the crime rate in countries applying the death penalty, as opposed to countries who don't."
"Sam, you live in a country where a large amount of people are in favor of - "
"I don't care, Toby. The duty of government is also to educate the citizens, and damn it, I'll do that. And if the only place I'll be able to do that is the campaign, then so be it."
"You won't change the way they think in a few months. At least, wait until the election is over."
"Yes, and then we'll be in office, and you'll tell me about numbers, and I'll listen to you, and... That's a compromise I'm just not going to make, Toby."
Toby had argued. Then argued some more.
Then he had sent CJ, and Colleen, to try and change his mind.
Then he had sat down, resigned to the fact that Sam wasn't going to cave in, and he had designed a strategy.
**********
2014, Sam's room
A knock on the door startled Sam. Ainsley poked her head in.
"It shouldn't be long, now," she said.
He nodded, his hands getting cold with the fear.
It was annoying, the way his hands seemed to freeze over each time he was anxious.
It had happened before, the day of the debate.
"Sam, you okay?"
He smiled. "Yeah, I just... there's a little too much adrenaline floating down there," he said.
She could only agree. The people who weren't shouting in their phones to get better estimates were busy going over drafts of the speech that would never be used anyway, the good versions having been locked hours before. There were people everywhere, staring at TV sets, biting their nails, crossing fingers.
She was feeling a little overwhelmed herself.
The level of noise suddenly exploded, music filled the room, coming from the common room, and Sam blanched.
"Guess they called it then," he said flatly.
**********
A few weeks earlier
Sam and Ainsley were waiting backstage, five minutes away from the presidential debate broadcast. He was fidgeting his ring, the only external sign of nervousness he displayed.
Toby was pacing the room, CJ was shooting him annoyed looks, and all was well with the world, Ainsley thought. Colleen came in. "They said to get ready, sir," she said, addressing Sam, who gulped and nodded jerkily. Jim and Pete, who had been in the room with them, left then, shaking hands with Sam, their serious, grave composure doing little to lighten the mood.
CJ hugged Sam and left, dragging Toby before he had the time to begin talking about language again. Colleen began to shake his hand before hugging him. She looked slightly surprised when she let him go, and he smiled. "Don't forget to shoot me if I begin talking about Medcare," he said.
"The Secret Services would frown on that, but I'll do my best," she said efficiently before leaving the room.
"Do you think I should be worried that she took this literally?" Sam asked lightly.
Ainsley laughed. "I don't think she's the one you should be worried about," she said. "Remember, Toby is in the room."
"Right. Wish me luck?"
She nodded and kissed him, surprised to feel his lips so dry. When she took his hands, they were cold as ice.
"You're terrified," she exclaimed.
"Well, I'm going on TV. For a debate," he pointed out. "It's big."
"You want something?"
He shook his head and smiled reassuringly. "You don't look all that reassured yourself," he noted gently.
"I'm moral support," she said past the lump in her throat. She was almost as scared as he was sometimes. Thankfully, they rarely balked at the same time, and one of them could usually reassure the other.
Not today, though.
A knock on the door startled them and they got out, to be escorted to the stage, adrenaline helping them to go forward, always forward, until a hand stopped Ainsley and Sam went on alone, taking his place on the stage, under the spotlights.
**********
Later that night, Toby was annoying them with his post-debate analysis as the rest of them partied.
"We haven't won," Toby said, for the hundredth time this night.
"We haven't lost either," Sam pointed out. "We've always known that it would be a race. Billings isn't stupid, and he did make good points. In the end, all this will come down to whom the American people likes best, and whom they agree with the most."
"And let's not forget the trust factor, and the fact that Bartlet is still well liked. People remember who we were," CJ added.
Ainsley didn't miss Sam's grimace. He was tired of being compared to his former mentor. He was grateful for the opportunity he had had to work in the White House, and he knew it had taught him a lot, but he had made his way since then. He was ready to wave goodbye to their mythical past in the West Wing, and Ainsley was glad for it.
He didn't deserve to constantly worry about what Jed Bartlet would have done.
He deserved to be remembered for who he was, not who he had helped, a decade ago.
She hoped he would get the chance.
**********
2014, Sam's room
As the noise increased, Ainsley came in and she took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
He smiled, and suddenly, there was no trace left of the self doubt he had been harboring a while before. He seemed confident, now, almost at peace, and when there was a knock on the door, he didn't hesitate to get it opened.
Toby was on the other side, smiling broadly. "You're wanted in the room, Mister President," he said. "I think your opponent will call you soon."
Sam nodded, said he was coming, and closed the door. He turned to her then, and said, "Well, let's go then."
He took Ainsley's hand, and together, they walked out.
**********
It was only one hour later that they were finally able to talk to each other again.
As soon as they had stepped into the room, Sam, then Ainsley, had been hugged by CJ, then Colleen, Jim and Peter, and finally Toby. The rest of the staff was clapping so hard that they couldn't have talked even if they had tried to. CJ had to scream that they had to go talk to the press.
It's at that point that Colleen handed Sam a phone, and ushered him to a deserted hallway. The Secret Services, a constant presence since the convention, followed him and the rest of them waited there, not trying to speak in all the noise.
When Sam came back, he and Ainsley went to the press and delivered a statement, then Ainsley left him to say the speech that Toby and him had crafted, that Jim made better and that Sam had rewritten again, a few hours earlier.
When that had been done, everyone took turns to congratulate them again, and Sam insisted on thanking all the people who were there.
Then President Hoynes called him, and Sam had a hard time not to laugh when an assistant handed him the phone as if she was handling a venomous snake. Sam found a quiet place, wondering what Hoynes wanted.
"Mister President," he said.
"President-elect," Hoynes answered.
Sam refrained from asking him to call him Sam. He had to lose that habit anyway. "What can I do for you, sir?" he asked instead.
"Nothing, I just wanted to congratulate you in person. I'm glad you're the one who won."
"Me too," Sam joked, surprised to realize that he meant it. He wasn't so sure he wanted to win a few minutes ago, but now that all was done, he was left wondering how he would have taken it if he had lost. "How's the First Lady doing?"
"Eager to get out of here, and of the public eye," Hoynes answered, a small tinge of regret in his voice. "We'll talk again during the transition, but I wanted to make sure that you weren't too..."
"In over my head?" Sam smiled.
"Something like that."
"I will be once I realize," Sam responded, "but for now, I'm too pressured to think about the future."
Hoynes had a quiet laugh, and added, "I'll let you go back to your party, then. Enjoy it."
"Thank you, sir," Sam said.
"We'll talk again soon," Hoynes assured him.
After Hoynes, Sam also took a call from his parents, and from Ainsley's.
They were finally able to get away from the chaos that the suite had become and to talk to each other.
"You holding up?" Sam asked.
"Great. You were incredible on the stage, by the way."
"It was a good speech," he said, and there was a touch of sadness in his voice.
"Sam?"
"It's just... When I thought that this day would come, I always envisioned Josh and Donna being there," he said.
Donna hadn't been able to come, claiming that she was too overworked for that. Everyone had guessed that, as happy as she was for Sam, she too would have been thinking of Josh all day. She had called earlier, though, and Ainsley didn't doubt that she would call again, later in the day.
"I know," she said soothingly. She knew how much Josh had been a part of Sam's life, even in the worst days, even when he was a jerk, even when the two friends weren't on speaking terms.
"I miss them," he said.
Ben.
Josh.
Leo and Jed Bartlet, who had both claimed to be too old to make the trip, but who, Ainsley suspected, were hiding that the MS was progressing, so they wouldn't spoil the day for them. There had been something in Abbey's voice the last time they had talked, a resignation, a sadness, that hadn't been there before.
Maybe even the feeling of family all the staff had shared in the late 90's. It wouldn't be the same, this time. His friends would be at his service, and there would be new people to welcome, and learn to work with.
He would be their boss, not their friend - not while he was in office.
There was no way to know what the future was holding for them, Ainsley reflected.
Curiously, it had never seemed quite so frightening before.