III

"Hey, CJ." Carol smiled at her as she entered the office.

"Hi, Carol. Did you find out what the Swedish Ambassador was shouting about?"

"We finally got his assistant on the line." Carol looked sympathetic. "She sounds like she's just about to snap and go on a rampage with the letter opener."

"Her and me both." CJ dropped into her chair. "What does he want?"

"He's missing his gold watch."

She pushed herself upright to stare at her assistant. "He what, he thinks he got pickpocketed in the White House?"

Carol shrugged slightly. "Last time he had it was at the dinner party on Tuesday. Apparently he wanted to call up and roast us for it yesterday, but his assistant convinced him to wait while they turned the hotel upside down looking for it. It's definitely missing."

CJ sighed heavily. "Great. Did we have somebody check the men's room?"

"We can do that."

"No, wait, cleaning crew would have found it by now." One thing you could say about working in the White House, the level of housekeeping was exemplary.

"Unless somebody picked it up," Carol offered tentatively. CJ covered her face with her hands.

"Oh, God, tell me no." The last thing they needed was an opportunistic thief at a White House dinner party. Even if the watch could be found and returned with minimal fuss, it was a public relations nightmare waiting to explode.

She made an effort to think positive. "Okay. He was totally off his head by the end of the party, so the odds are he did something stupid with it. Was it an expensive watch?"

Carol winced. "It was a present from his wife. Engraved."

She could feel a headache coming on. "Make it Sam's problem?" she pleaded.

"Okay," Carol smiled.

"Thank you." However, she knew, if Sam didn't find that watch pretty soon... it was going to be very much her problem.

The phone was ringing for long enough for him to begin to get worried before she finally picked up.

"Hello?"

"Zoey?" She sounded muffled and slightly confused, as if he'd just woken her.

"Charlie," she groaned, exasperated. "I told you not to make a fuss. You barely left ten minutes ago."

"Zoey, I've been gone for four hours," he corrected her worriedly.

"Oh?" There was a rustle of sheets. "I must have... fallen back asleep," she said, with a yawn in the middle.

"You sound terrible."

"Sweet-talker," she teased.

"Listen, are you gonna be all right? Because I could be back there in-"

"Charlie, I'm fine. I'll stay in bed," she offered, more compromise than she'd been willing to extend that morning.

"You should eat something," he chided anxiously.

"So I'll crawl to the fridge," she said impatiently.

"I should come home."

"You're at work, Charlie," she protested.

"I'll talk to your father about it," he said. The thought of his pregnant wife stubbornly stumbling about the place and getting dizzy... "I'll see if I can head home. Don't try to get up."

"Whatever," she mumbled, sounding too tired to argue further. He hung up worriedly, and walked in to see the president.

"Hey, Charlie." The president smiled at him, but he looked weary.

"Mr. President, are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah," he shrugged listlessly. "What's up?"

Charlie hesitated, suddenly second-guessing his instinct to rush home to Zoey; the president needed him too. "I spoke to Zoey on the phone, she's not feeling so good," he admitted. "I think she might have caught your cold."

"You should go see her," the president told him immediately.

"Mr. President-"

"Go home, Charlie. I'll be fine here." He smiled. "Go check on my baby girl."

"Okay," he acquiesced. "Thank you, sir. I'll try to get back as soon as-"

"If she needs you, stay," the president insisted. "I'll be fine, Charlie. Got a lot of other people looking after me. You go on home."

"Okay, sir."

He left, but his heart was torn. It was his job to look out for the president, it was his duty to look out for Zoey... and his love for both pulled him in two directions. What would happen when he had a baby son or baby daughter to look after, too?

He loved his job, and he loved every aspect of being a family man. He was deathly afraid, however, there would soon come a time when he would no longer be able to do both.

Sam wandered into the communications bullpen, frowning. "Hey, Toby. Do you remember anything about the Swedish Ambassador from the dinner party Tuesday night?"

"I wasn't there," Toby reminded him flatly.

"Hey, that's right," he recalled, and eyed him with some puzzlement. "Where were you?"

"At home."

His deputy started to smile. "With Andy?"

"Yes," he said tersely. Fortunately, Josh walked in before Sam could attempt to probe any further into his private life. The Deputy Communications Director swung around to face him.

"Hey, Josh, do you- no, wait, you weren't there either."

"Huh?" He blinked distractedly.

"At the party Tuesday night... You gave Danny your place, didn't you?" he remembered. "Where did you go, I didn't ask."

"I had some things to take care of," Josh said evasively. Toby studied him. This wasn't typical Josh 'I did something horrendously stupid and/or humiliating' misdirection; something was going on.

Sam threw up his hands. "Well, it's good to see we're embracing the concept of teamwork. Okay, fine. I will solve the mystery on my own. For I am a mystery solver."

When nobody bothered to respond, even sarcastically, he deflated somewhat.

"So I guess I'll just, you know. Go solve it in my office."

He disappeared into his office, closing the door. After a moment Toby sat forward, eyeing Josh pointedly.

"What's going on?" he demanded shortly.

He shook his head. "I can't tell you."

"Good, 'cause that never comes back to bite us in the ass," he noted dryly.

Josh tipped his head in wry acknowledgement. "It's... we have to be very sure about this," he said carefully.

"This is the leak?" Toby guessed.

"Indirectly."

"Okay."

There was a brief beat of silence.

"Would you say I have a depressing temperament?" Toby asked suddenly. Josh looked startled for a moment, and then laughed a little.

"Would I- what?"

"Andy thinks I'm depressing," he admitted. Josh narrowed his eyes concernedly.

"Toby, are you and Andy okay?"

"We're fine," he said, shrugging shortly.

They were fine. Andy might be convinced that he was never going to change, but he was prepared to prove her wrong. He knew she was trying to protect herself by breaking away from him, trying to make sure that she wasn't hurt again.

He'd hurt her before. He'd handled things badly, and he'd used up his second chances. But his priorities were different now, and he knew he could do things the right way, if she only gave him a chance.

All he needed was to convince her just to give him one more chance.