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FRIDAY:
"Ginger! Hey, Ginger. Get over here," Bonnie said in a low voice, beckoning her over.
"What's going on?" Ginger wondered anxiously as she put down her handbag.
Bonnie nodded her head towards Toby's office. The door stood slightly ajar, enough to just glimpse that their boss was already there, and apparently hard at work.
"Was he here all night?" Bonnie wondered. Ginger shook her head.
"He went home... what's he doing here this early?"
"That's what I want to know."
This deviation from routine was enough to give them both pause. There had been times when it was not uncommon to come in and find that their superiors had arrived ridiculously early or indeed stayed the whole night, but after some rocky months following reelection, things had settled down. Sam had Steve keeping him at home, Toby had got back with Andy, and things at work had become less desperate, which added up to less hours in the office all round.
"There's nothing going on that you know about, is there?" Ginger worried. Bonnie shook her head.
"Far as I know, we're clear and clean."
"State of the Union Fever setting in?" The early drafts had been done for weeks and there was time to spare for polishing and the usual last-minute panic, but Toby was nothing if not suddenly unpredictable.
Bonnie considered this, and then shook her head. "No. No pie."
She nodded, accepting this for the wisdom it was. When Toby was locked in mortal combat with the State of the Union, there was inevitably pie involved.
Well, if there wasn't any work-related reason for him to be in early, that left the altogether murkier area of personal reasons. She chewed her bottom lip uncertainly. "You think he broke up with Andy?"
Bonnie grimaced. "I sure hope not. I still remember what he was like through the divorce... I can't imagine second time around is gonna be any prettier."
They exchanged nervous looks, and crept quietly as they passed Toby's office, trying not to disturb him lest their worst predictions come true.
Abbey awoke to a cold bed, and sat up with a frown. Jed, gone already? Normally she at least stirred when he was waking. She supposed she'd been tired; little surprise, when her husband had been wriggling around chasing a kitten all night. Getting him a pet was supposed to be good for him, not keep him up all night.
Expecting him to be gone, she headed straight into the shower, and was surprised when she emerged to find him sitting eating breakfast.
"I thought you'd left," she mumbled, towelling her hair.
"No, I just decided to get up," he explained.
She walked in, to find him balancing a precarious mix of briefing papers, plates, and inquisitive kitten. She gave him a look. "Jed, is that kitten sharing your breakfast?"
"No?" he ventured innocently.
Abbey shook her head, and walked over to press a kiss to his cheek before sitting beside him. "What did I always used to tell you about giving the cats toast?" she sighed.
"He didn't eat it, he was just licking the butter," Jed defended.
"You know, it amazes me that you ever managed to raise three children."
"Oh, I didn't do it all myself," he waved airily. Despite herself, she had to smile. It was wonderful to see him in a good mood for a change.
"How're you feeling?" she asked gently.
"Better... no, really," he insisted, when she looked sceptical. "Not quite well," he admitted, with a slight wince, "but... better."
"Good." She kissed him again, lightly, out of relief. Jed hugged her close with one arm, as he turned a page in the report he was reading with the other. "You won't be working yourself too hard today?"
He sighed, and buried his face briefly in her hair. "I've got a feeling it's going to be a long day," he admitted softly.
Abbey closed her eyes. She wished she could tell him to just take a few days off and relax until he felt better... but of course, he was the president, and that route wasn't open to him. She straightened up. "Okay. I'm gonna go get dressed now."
"Okay," he nodded.
"I'll be back in a minute, babe." She got up, smoothing out her robe, and tucking her hair back into place. It suddenly felt much chillier without her husband's embrace keeping her warm.
"Abbey," Jed called softly, when she was halfway across the room. She turned back, and he gave her a lopsided smile. His eyes were full of unspoken thanks; for her words, for being there, for an unlikely gesture that had brightened up his days for all that he'd protested it. "I love you," was all he said.
She smiled gently in return. "Love you too, babe," she agreed.
Margaret was waiting for him, a cup of coffee sitting on his desk, when he arrived. He picked it up - still warm - and wandered back out to give her a look.
"How do you do this?"
"Do what?" she wondered innocently. Leo scowled. It had to be a network of spies of some kind...
He let it go.
"Can you clear me some time this morning to speak to the president?"
Margaret narrowed her eyes in disapproval. "You're supposed to meet with-"
"Cancel it."
She looked exasperated. "Leo-"
"Cancel it."
She registered the tone, and immediately swung into action, reaching for the appointment book. "Do you need the whole morning?" she asked anxiously.
"I need as much of the day I can have," he said grimly.
She made several swift edits with a pen. "I can't clear your two o'clock."
"Okay," he nodded.
Margaret looked up at him worriedly. "Leo...
"You'll know before long," he promised.
This didn't have a great deal of potential for staying a secret.
Josh strode through the corridors at a harassed speed. He wasn't as early as he'd planned to be - multiple late nights had caught up on him, and he'd slept through his snooze alarm the first few times around. He would have liked to have been safely ensconced in his office before the place started filling up, but the White House was already bustling with life.
He threaded his way through a lobby, but paused at the sight of a familiar face. "Hey, Charlie. Got a minute?"
"Sure." They retreated to a slightly less public space.
"How's the president doing?" Josh asked anxiously. Charlie broke out a tired smile.
"He's feeling better," he said, sounding relieved. "Or, at least, he seems to be, judging by the fact he attempted to regale me with the history of European opera. I've never been so glad to hear a coughing fit start in all my life."
Relief and guilt warred for space at that news. They were about to drop a rather unpleasant bombshell on the president in the form of the news about Hoynes, and while it was good to know he was finally beginning to shake off the cold that had been dogging him, it felt like an exceedingly cruel time to slap him down.
Josh noticed that Charlie himself was looking a little less than bright and eager, and narrowed his eyes in concern. "Hey, Charlie, how are you doing? You look kinda swamped."
The younger man pulled a face. "Well, my boss is sick, my boss's daughter is sick, my wife is sick and so is my father-in-law."
He paused for a beat to disentangle that. "Okay, but you realise that's only actually two people?"
"Well, you'd think," Charlie said wryly.
Having some small measure of experience of dealing with a sick Bartlet, he tried to imagine two at the same time, and suppressed a shudder. The stubborn streak running through the centre of that whole family was a scary thing.
"Hey, you want me to have somebody sent up to give you a hand?" he offered. Charlie shook his head.
"No, I'll do fine, don't worry about it. See you later, Josh."
"Yeah, see you." He suspected Charlie was exercising a little irrational stubbornness of his own right there, but right now, that was only one on a long list of concerns vying for attention. He headed for his office.