3/4
Six weeks later - Monday
The door to Josh's office was only closed when he was inside, which was why he
was surprised to find it closed when he returned from the morning Senior Staff
meeting. "Am I busy?" he asked.
A couple of interns looked over at Donna, who kept her gaze on her computer
monitor. "I don't know, Josh. Is this some sort of riddle or something? Because
I'd play along, but there's all this work to do."
"You closed my door?"
"No, I did not." She tapped on a few keys and the screen changed to something
with even smaller text. Sighing, Donna reached for the mouse and started
clicking things. "Your door was not closed by me."
"Then by who?"
"Whom," said Donna and an intern simultaneously. Josh's glare caused the intern
to lower his head as if he were a turtle trying to duck back into his shell.
"Sorry."
"Don't mention it." Josh stared at Donna until she finally stopped what she was
doing and looked at him. "So, Donna, who is in my office?"
Sighing, Donna put her elbows on the desk. "It's Zoey. And two Secret Service
guys. One of whom is more than a little hot."
"Zoey's in my office."
"Along with two Secret Service guys. One of whom is--"
"More than a little hot. He's probably a Republican." Josh weighed Zoey's visit
in his mind for a few seconds. "She's been coming by a lot."
"She has, indeed, and I can tell you why if you like."
"No, no, I get it. I..." he gestured toward the door, then brought his hands to
his tie, straightening it. "I'll just go in there."
"Josh." Donna got up and went quickly to his side. "Be, you know, careful."
"Careful is my middle name," Josh quipped with a toss of his head.
"Not so much." Donna helped unmuddle the tie, her fingers working on the knot
until it was smooth and centered. "I don't think you'll have to talk too much.
Just listen."
"I know." He batted her hand away playfully but never broke eye contact. "I'm a
little..."
"Afraid?"
"Concerned," Josh corrected, one dimple deepening as he let himself smile just a
little. "It's not that I'll say the wrong thing. That's a given. People expect
that. Anticipate it, perhaps. But listening...that's something else."
"How do you mean?"
There were two people to whom he could say this, and the other one lived on the
opposite Coast. "I'm afraid of what I'll hear."
Donna's hand, warm and light, rested on Josh's upper arm. "That she'll tell you
what they did to her, how terrified she was? Josh, I can understand that you
don't want to--"
"No." He shook his head. "It's not the story that scares me."
Her brow wrinkled. "Then what is it you think you might hear?" she asked.
So difficult, this one word. He let it sit on the tip of his tongue for a moment
while he gained the strength needed to utter it. "Sirens," he said, and Donna's
eyes widened.
"Oh."
"Yeah." He inhaled sharply. "Bummer, huh?"
"Josh..."
"It's fine. I'm gonna...you know." He tipped his head in the direction of the
door. "Donna, it's fine."
She looked so sorrowful that it made his teeth ache as if he'd bitten into candy
that was unexpectedly sour. "Okay," Donna said, not sounding at all okay. Josh
didn't have time to reassure her, so it would have to suffice for now. "I'm out
here."
"I know," Josh whispered, biting back the "thank God" that rose to his lips. He
cleared his throat, forced a smile, and opened the door.
He expected to find Zoey curled up in his chair, weeping, or sitting with her
head down on his desk. What he actually found was Zoey at his computer, looking
intently at the screen in an unwitting parody of what Donna had been doing
minutes before. She didn't move her head when the door opened. "Hey, Josh," she
said.
"Hey, Zoey. Guys, could you excuse us?" he asked of the two Secret Service
agents, who nodded and went outside. Josh shut the door and leaned against it,
waiting for an end to the sound of blood pounding in his ears. "What are you
doing?"
"Playing water polo," she said evenly, typing some more into a little box on the
screen.
"You're a funny person," Josh commented, feeling some of his back muscles begin
to relax. "My question is, why are you a funny person in my office? Have the
budget cutbacks extended to use of the internet in the Residence?"
"I'm on Instant Messenger. Dad always hovers over me, complaining that I don't
use the shift key when I start a new sentence."
"Ah." He moved closer, trying to read the flow of letters. He was probably going
to have to break down and get glasses, dammit. "Who're you talking to?"
"Rochelle. I met her at the SADD presentation back in August."
"Have the guys checked her background?"
"Yep," she replied, not looking at him.
"Is she - uh - is she a good student?"
"Yep." Shorter, more brittle.
"She's still in high school - what do you two talk about?"
Zoey's fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of the desk. "I actually came in
here hoping for some privacy."
"I actually came in here hoping to use my computer," Josh countered.
"Not gonna happen for about ten more minutes. She's about to leave for a thing
at her church. You can have the computer when I'm finished."
Josh pondered that for a moment, then decided that an argument wouldn't be worth
the trouble. "I'm just going to reach...right here...yeah." He picked a folder
off the desk and opened it, watching Zoey over the top of the page. She was
typing with more animation than skill, mostly because whoever she was "talking"
to was making her laugh. She turned her head a couple of times, chuckling low in
her throat, and Josh noted with pain how prominent her cheekbones were and how
makeup didn't conceal the dark circles under her eyes. "Maybe you should take a
nap, or get something from the Mess. Donna can--"
"Josh, just stop for a minute, okay? I got plenty of that crap on the farm." Her
fingers froze over the keyboard.
"Very nice. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"You sound like Dad."
"There are worse people to sound like," he said, meaning it.
"Hey!" she protested, but she was smiling again, and he saw her type the letters
"brb" before she turned around to face him. "At least you're being sarcastic
with me. I've missed that - missed having a normal, snarky conversation."
"I bet." Josh remembered the stilted discourses that had taken place in his
hospital room, his apartment, and even his office. "It gets old, everyone
looking like they're trying to be brave for you."
Wonder of wonders, he'd said the right thing.
Zoey nodded solemnly. "And you have to be brave for them."
"That part sucks," he agreed.
Zoey's mercurial face went from tragedy to comedy. "You kiss your mother with
that mouth?"
"Point taken." He sat on the least cluttered corner of his desk. Why did this
have to be so hard? "Listen, Zoey, if you ever need to talk..."
"I'm fine," she said crisply.
"Okay," Josh said, keeping his voice soft. "What I mean is that if you ever want
to talk on my computer, you're welcome. If I'm in the room doing something
important like overthrowing the Speaker of the House, then maybe not, but
otherwise...well, just come in whenever."
Zoey signed off, keeping her back to Josh for a few moments. Then she swiveled
the chair around, stood up, and stunned him by throwing her arms around his neck
and kissing him on the cheek. "Thanks, Josh," she murmured in his ear, then she
regained her composure and walked out the door with an easy, careless grace he
hadn't seen in her since her graduation.
"Five, four, three..." he counted to himself. Before he got to "two," Donna was
standing in the doorway. "I'm fine," he said. Nodding toward the Oval Office, he
added, "I think she's fine, too."
"You talked?" Donna asked, favoring him with a radiant smile.
"We opened a door."
"And what did you hear when you opened the door?" Her hair had fallen in front
of her face and she tucked it behind her ear while Josh considered his answer.
"I heard...what anyone else would hear. A voice. A friend."
Donna's expression became tender for just an instant, then she patted Josh on
the head and said, "You're a good boy, Joshua."
"Get away from me," he whined, but they were both laughing. When he finally sat
down at his computer he could hear the soft hum of the air conditioner, the
voices outside his office, but nothing else.
***
"So they've got Diaz, Meyers, and Stackhouse on the committee." Will was pacing
in Toby's office as he spoke. It should not have been a perilous task to listen
to him, but Will was perambulating without looking up from his own notes and no
matter where Toby sat or stood he was in danger of collision. "Who else?"
Toby consulted his own notes. "I have Ellsworth, McKenna, Packard--"
"Packard's a nutcase."
"I will not argue that point," Toby muttered. "Also Rankin. That's all I could
get Pearce to cough up."
"Cough up is right. Apart from Stackhouse, those are some pretty conservative
conservatives." Will adjusted his glasses. "How'd Stackhouse even get on the
list?" he asked.
"Because he's in the hospital having a quadruple bypass and won't actually, you
know, be at a meeting."
"Wow."
"Wow, indeed." Toby realized that he was chewing on his pen, so he removed it
from his mouth with a "hmph" and set it on the desk.
"Lollipops not working for you?"
"I had a cavity. So it's no to cigars and no to sugar. If something goes wrong
and I have to give up coffee, then you might as well put a gun to my head."
"You might want someone who's a better shot."
Toby laughed. "So, anyway, the question is how do we leak to the press that
there's a super-secret committee drafting language banning late term abortions?"
He handed Will the top sheet of his legal pad. "Read this."
"Huh." Will read it, then read it again, frowning. "I don't think CJ's going to
be happy with the language."
"It's in English," Toby said, shifting from one foot to the other and drawing
circles in the air with one hand.
"I'm not talking about the mother tongue, I'm talking about gender neutrality.
Or, rather, the lack of it."
"The committee members are all men."
Will pointed to one paragraph. "This doesn't need to read like--"
"The committee members are all men," Toby repeated as if Will were a small
child, possibly one who was not playing with a full deck.
"CJ's going to be very, very unhappy," Will reminded him.
"That's just tough. You know why? Because the people involved with this are all
men, even though there are plenty of women in Congress, including my ex-wife.
They're all men without any expertise in the field of medicine, even though
there are several members of Congress whose spouses are physicians. But mostly,
they're all men, and it wouldn't be such a terrible thing if the public knew
that only men were deciding this issue that affects women, and it wouldn't be
such a terrible thing if CJ got pumped up right before she had to say it on
television."
Will stared at Toby. "Your voice got really, really loud at the end."
"You think that was loud? Wait until you show this to CJ."
He'd walked right into that one.
"I walked right into that one, didn't I?"
"You bet." Toby took a seat on the sofa and produced a pair of rubber balls from
beneath a cushion. He tossed them back and forth. "You have a meeting with her
in about fifteen minutes."
"That's not long enough to write you out of my will."
"I'm in your will?"
"No, but I'd like to have time to write you into it so I can have the pleasure
of writing you out of it. Toby, she's going to tear me in half and feed me to
the wolves."
"You're going to make her see reason and read it as is," Toby said, tossing each
ball into the air in turn and catching it in the palm of the opposite hand.
"Why can't you make her see reason and read it as is?" Will asked forlornly.
"She barely knows me. We have no form of connection whatsoever. She has no
reason to trust me. Why would she take my word for it?"
Toby let both balls drop onto the sofa. He grinned up at Will. "You're afraid of
her, aren't you?"
"Well, yeah. She's nine feet tall and can make you feel like an idiot in ten
words or less. Of course I'm scared of her."
"You think you're the only one? The point is that you respect her. I respect
her, and so does Leo, and so does the President, and that's something she
knows." Toby paused to run his fingers through his beard. "Although she didn't
always."
"You mean there was a time when she wasn't able to turn a man's spine into
Jell-o?"
Toby shook his head and chuckled softly. "There was a time. You should've seen
her right after the election, when Leo and the President-elect were working on
what roles we'd take on in the White House."
***
November 1999
Temporary office in the OEOB
Toby knew he wasn't being paranoid, despite the number of times CJ told him he
was. He knew the President-elect had a preference for David Rosen, who was
younger, quicker, cooler - and nicer. Toby's verbal sparring with Bartlet was
becoming the stuff of legend and they hadn't taken office yet.
Some of the presentations were formalities, since everyone already knew that the
jobs of Chief and Deputy Chief of Staff were going to Leo and Josh. Leo stood
tall and proud as Bartlet read his speech and signed the certificate. Josh
fidgeted so much that Bartlet started rocking back and forth to maintain eye
contact. Sam, the newly minted Deputy Communications Director, kept his hands
behind his back and blushed.
"David Rosen," Bartlet said, and Rosen got to his feet, all six-feet-four-inches
of him. "David will, unfortunately, be leaving us for a job in the private
sector, but I wanted to take this opportunity to thank him for outstanding
service rendered and say that whenever he tires of paid vacation and a salary
higher than mine, he's welcome to join us in the White House."
"That's...unexpected," CJ whispered in Toby's ear.
"You still owe me five bucks, because you and I both know that he was definitely
their first choice, no matter who they pick instead."
"You'll get a job. I'm the one they'll leave behind," CJ protested. Leo must
have heard her, because he turned toward them and put a finger to his lips. CJ
started again, softer. "I have no national experience. None. There's no way
they'll keep me."
"I argue with the Governor at least three times a day. You think they'll keep
me?"
"Toby Ziegler." Bartlet raised his voice to let CJ and Toby know that they were
interrupting. Toby jumped to his feet and adjusted his tie. "Tobias Zachary
Ziegler, proposing special trust and confidence in your integrity, prudence, and
ability..."
The President-elect was actually saying those words to him.
"...I designate you to the post of White House Communications Director and
Special Assistant to the President. And I do authorize you to execute and
fulfill the duties of that office with all the powers and privileges, and
subject to the conditions prescribed. It is affirmed by my signature and affixed
with the Seal of the United States, and it is done so on this day, and in this
place." Bartlet signed the document and stamped the seal on it, then held it out
to Toby.
Why wasn't Andi here for this? Easy. She'd thought he was going to be left out.
Toby's hand trembled a little as he reached for the leather folder. Bartlet took
it between his own in a handshake understood only by them. "Congratulations,
Toby," he said.
Nothing came out of Toby's mouth when he opened it. He coughed, looking into
Bartlet's piercing blue eyes. "I...thank you, sir."
"You're welcome. And that seems to be all the documents I have on me today, so
you're dismissed."
Toby caught CJ's gaze. She was trying to look happy for him, but her eyes were
misty and sad. How the hell could Leo not know her value? Sure, she'd put a
basketball through the window at Headquarters and there were more than a few
people who knew about the thing with the swimming pool, but...
She shrugged and gathered her papers. Josh said something to Leo, who whistled
at the departing group. "Wait up, everybody, we're not done here."
Sam caught CJ by the arm and pulled her back into the room. She shook her hair
out of her face and gave everyone a tight, nervous smile.
Leo handed another black folder to Bartlet, who opened it and put his glasses on
again. "Ah, yes. CJ, would you come here, please?"
CJ brushed against Sam, knocking his precious folio out of his hands. "I'm so
sorry," she whispered, but Sam just picked it up and dusted it off, stroking it
as if it were a kitten. Bartlet cleared his throat as he motioned for CJ to come
up to him.
"Claudia Jean Cregg, proposing special trust and confidence in your integrity,
prudence, and ability, I designate you to the post of White House Press
Secretary..."
CJ gasped.
Toby smiled.
"...and special assistant to the President. And I do authorize you to execute
and fulfill the duties of that office with all the powers and privileges, and
subject to the conditions prescribed. It is affirmed by my signature and affixed
with the Seal of the United States, and it is done so on this day, and in this
place." Again Bartlet went through the ceremonial signing and stamping, and he
looked up into CJ's eyes, smiling. "Thank you. For everything."
"Yes sir," She had never sounded so stunned. As she turned to make her way back
to her place, she banged her leg against the table and dropped her glasses,
which fell into Toby's coffee cup.
"This is becoming a theme for you, CJ," he said wryly as he fished the glasses
out and wiped them on a napkin. She took them from his hand and he whispered,
"I'm very proud of you."
She beamed down at him and probably would have spoken except that she toppled
the chair next to her and had to pick it up again.
"Someone should pad the furniture in her office - and Sam's office, for that
matter," Josh quipped. His speech was rapid and his face was still flushed with
glory.
Bartlet put his glasses in his pocket. "You will be the five people who are
closest to me on a day to day basis. You will also be working in very close
quarters under circumstances that will not always be joyous. Do so in service to
your country, with respect for one another, and with the knowledge that you were
chosen for your unique abilities, including the ability to - politely, Toby -
disagree with me." He put his hand over his heart. "I am so sorry to deputize
and run, but I have a few million things to take care of before breakfast. You
guys know what you're doing the rest of today?" Everyone nodded. "Good," Bartlet
said tartly, "because I haven't got a clue. Senior Staff, we'll be meeting here
tomorrow morning at 7:30. Have a good day."
He left, flanked by Secret Service agents, but Leo remained behind with the
others. "How do you feel, Josh?" he asked.
Josh opened his mouth slowly. "I still hear it."
"Hear what?" CJ asked.
"Last night, when he called me in and said he was going to do this...my ears
started ringing. I don't know why. And just a few minutes ago, when it was
official, it happened again."
CJ's smile brightened the room. "Oh, thank God. I thought it was just me. Sam,
do you hear anything?"
Sam was lost in his own world, already writing things down in a small notebook.
"I hear us standing around talking when we have an inaugural address to write."
"Go on to our office - I'll be with you in a few minutes," Toby said, waving Sam
away with Josh at his heels, chattering about office space in the West Wing. He
looked over at Leo, unsure of what to say next. "I don't know how to say thank
you."
"That'll be fine," Leo said, a smile lighting his weary face. He looked tired,
more tired than the last few days of the campaign. Josh had told them over
breakfast that morning that they'd been up most of the night, arguing, and Toby
wondered how much of that argument had been centered around whether or not to
give him a place on the Senior Staff. "Toby, CJ, do you need me for anything?"
"No, we're good," CJ said, then she quickly corrected herself. "Hang on, Leo."
She was in flat shoes but she still towered over him as he waited for her
question. "I have to know - I don't understand - why did you pick me?"
Toby waited, wanting to hear what Leo would say. CJ was still so unsure of
herself, despite her rousing triumph on the campaign, and she was looking to Leo
for advice, for something avuncular and comforting.
Leo peered up at her. "Have you seen the press room? You're the only one tall
enough to see over the damn podium. Now, both of you, go do a job."
CJ and Toby stared at one another, dumbfounded, as Leo stalked off. "He's got a
point," Toby said blandly. CJ poked him in the ribs with her pencil and left
Toby behind, chuckling into his beard.
***
"He actually said that to her?" Will asked, unsuccessfully trying to hide
laughter.
"Unlike you, he has no fear of CJ Cregg. Now, you need to--"
He was cut off by Josh's sudden entrance. Breathless and pale, Josh ran one hand
through his hair as he passed a piece of paper to Will with the other.
Will read the message, blanching, then took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
"How'd you get this?"
"Zoey was checking e-mail in my office again. They were doing that internet
chatting thing just this morning, I don't understand--"
"You'd better get this to Charlie and have him tell Zoey," Will said decisively.
"She knows - she ran out of the office when she saw it, so I looked at it and
printed it out." He looked from Will to Toby.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Toby said, but from the looks on Josh
and Will's faces he knew the news had to be terrible.
Will sighed heavily. "There was a girl we met in Virginia at the SADD thing. She
and Zoey struck up a correspondence."
"Is this a death threat?" Toby asked, his heart racing.
"No. Nothing like that." Will took a steadying breath. "She's dead. She died a
couple hours ago."
"How?" Toby asked, hoping against hope. "Was she sick?"
"You won't believe this," Will said. "She was taking someone home from church
and she was broad-sided. By a drunk driver."
Oh, God. Toby rubbed the top of his head, feeling a headache coming on already.
"Where'd she go?"
"I'm not sure," Josh replied, "but the agents were having to run to keep up with
her."
Toby looked from Will to Josh, both men tightly coiled. "Go," he said, pointing
to the bullpen. He leaned against the bookcase, his head lowered, and tried to
remember a time when everything in Zoey's life hadn't been a disaster.
***
Part 4
Six weeks later - Monday
The door to Josh's office was only closed when he was inside, which was why he
was surprised to find it closed when he returned from the morning Senior Staff
meeting. "Am I busy?" he asked.
A couple of interns looked over at Donna, who kept her gaze on her computer
monitor. "I don't know, Josh. Is this some sort of riddle or something? Because
I'd play along, but there's all this work to do."
"You closed my door?"
"No, I did not." She tapped on a few keys and the screen changed to something
with even smaller text. Sighing, Donna reached for the mouse and started
clicking things. "Your door was not closed by me."
"Then by who?"
"Whom," said Donna and an intern simultaneously. Josh's glare caused the intern
to lower his head as if he were a turtle trying to duck back into his shell.
"Sorry."
"Don't mention it." Josh stared at Donna until she finally stopped what she was
doing and looked at him. "So, Donna, who is in my office?"
Sighing, Donna put her elbows on the desk. "It's Zoey. And two Secret Service
guys. One of whom is more than a little hot."
"Zoey's in my office."
"Along with two Secret Service guys. One of whom is--"
"More than a little hot. He's probably a Republican." Josh weighed Zoey's visit
in his mind for a few seconds. "She's been coming by a lot."
"She has, indeed, and I can tell you why if you like."
"No, no, I get it. I..." he gestured toward the door, then brought his hands to
his tie, straightening it. "I'll just go in there."
"Josh." Donna got up and went quickly to his side. "Be, you know, careful."
"Careful is my middle name," Josh quipped with a toss of his head.
"Not so much." Donna helped unmuddle the tie, her fingers working on the knot
until it was smooth and centered. "I don't think you'll have to talk too much.
Just listen."
"I know." He batted her hand away playfully but never broke eye contact. "I'm a
little..."
"Afraid?"
"Concerned," Josh corrected, one dimple deepening as he let himself smile just a
little. "It's not that I'll say the wrong thing. That's a given. People expect
that. Anticipate it, perhaps. But listening...that's something else."
"How do you mean?"
There were two people to whom he could say this, and the other one lived on the
opposite Coast. "I'm afraid of what I'll hear."
Donna's hand, warm and light, rested on Josh's upper arm. "That she'll tell you
what they did to her, how terrified she was? Josh, I can understand that you
don't want to--"
"No." He shook his head. "It's not the story that scares me."
Her brow wrinkled. "Then what is it you think you might hear?" she asked.
So difficult, this one word. He let it sit on the tip of his tongue for a moment
while he gained the strength needed to utter it. "Sirens," he said, and Donna's
eyes widened.
"Oh."
"Yeah." He inhaled sharply. "Bummer, huh?"
"Josh..."
"It's fine. I'm gonna...you know." He tipped his head in the direction of the
door. "Donna, it's fine."
She looked so sorrowful that it made his teeth ache as if he'd bitten into candy
that was unexpectedly sour. "Okay," Donna said, not sounding at all okay. Josh
didn't have time to reassure her, so it would have to suffice for now. "I'm out
here."
"I know," Josh whispered, biting back the "thank God" that rose to his lips. He
cleared his throat, forced a smile, and opened the door.
He expected to find Zoey curled up in his chair, weeping, or sitting with her
head down on his desk. What he actually found was Zoey at his computer, looking
intently at the screen in an unwitting parody of what Donna had been doing
minutes before. She didn't move her head when the door opened. "Hey, Josh," she
said.
"Hey, Zoey. Guys, could you excuse us?" he asked of the two Secret Service
agents, who nodded and went outside. Josh shut the door and leaned against it,
waiting for an end to the sound of blood pounding in his ears. "What are you
doing?"
"Playing water polo," she said evenly, typing some more into a little box on the
screen.
"You're a funny person," Josh commented, feeling some of his back muscles begin
to relax. "My question is, why are you a funny person in my office? Have the
budget cutbacks extended to use of the internet in the Residence?"
"I'm on Instant Messenger. Dad always hovers over me, complaining that I don't
use the shift key when I start a new sentence."
"Ah." He moved closer, trying to read the flow of letters. He was probably going
to have to break down and get glasses, dammit. "Who're you talking to?"
"Rochelle. I met her at the SADD presentation back in August."
"Have the guys checked her background?"
"Yep," she replied, not looking at him.
"Is she - uh - is she a good student?"
"Yep." Shorter, more brittle.
"She's still in high school - what do you two talk about?"
Zoey's fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of the desk. "I actually came in
here hoping for some privacy."
"I actually came in here hoping to use my computer," Josh countered.
"Not gonna happen for about ten more minutes. She's about to leave for a thing
at her church. You can have the computer when I'm finished."
Josh pondered that for a moment, then decided that an argument wouldn't be worth
the trouble. "I'm just going to reach...right here...yeah." He picked a folder
off the desk and opened it, watching Zoey over the top of the page. She was
typing with more animation than skill, mostly because whoever she was "talking"
to was making her laugh. She turned her head a couple of times, chuckling low in
her throat, and Josh noted with pain how prominent her cheekbones were and how
makeup didn't conceal the dark circles under her eyes. "Maybe you should take a
nap, or get something from the Mess. Donna can--"
"Josh, just stop for a minute, okay? I got plenty of that crap on the farm." Her
fingers froze over the keyboard.
"Very nice. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"You sound like Dad."
"There are worse people to sound like," he said, meaning it.
"Hey!" she protested, but she was smiling again, and he saw her type the letters
"brb" before she turned around to face him. "At least you're being sarcastic
with me. I've missed that - missed having a normal, snarky conversation."
"I bet." Josh remembered the stilted discourses that had taken place in his
hospital room, his apartment, and even his office. "It gets old, everyone
looking like they're trying to be brave for you."
Wonder of wonders, he'd said the right thing.
Zoey nodded solemnly. "And you have to be brave for them."
"That part sucks," he agreed.
Zoey's mercurial face went from tragedy to comedy. "You kiss your mother with
that mouth?"
"Point taken." He sat on the least cluttered corner of his desk. Why did this
have to be so hard? "Listen, Zoey, if you ever need to talk..."
"I'm fine," she said crisply.
"Okay," Josh said, keeping his voice soft. "What I mean is that if you ever want
to talk on my computer, you're welcome. If I'm in the room doing something
important like overthrowing the Speaker of the House, then maybe not, but
otherwise...well, just come in whenever."
Zoey signed off, keeping her back to Josh for a few moments. Then she swiveled
the chair around, stood up, and stunned him by throwing her arms around his neck
and kissing him on the cheek. "Thanks, Josh," she murmured in his ear, then she
regained her composure and walked out the door with an easy, careless grace he
hadn't seen in her since her graduation.
"Five, four, three..." he counted to himself. Before he got to "two," Donna was
standing in the doorway. "I'm fine," he said. Nodding toward the Oval Office, he
added, "I think she's fine, too."
"You talked?" Donna asked, favoring him with a radiant smile.
"We opened a door."
"And what did you hear when you opened the door?" Her hair had fallen in front
of her face and she tucked it behind her ear while Josh considered his answer.
"I heard...what anyone else would hear. A voice. A friend."
Donna's expression became tender for just an instant, then she patted Josh on
the head and said, "You're a good boy, Joshua."
"Get away from me," he whined, but they were both laughing. When he finally sat
down at his computer he could hear the soft hum of the air conditioner, the
voices outside his office, but nothing else.
***
"So they've got Diaz, Meyers, and Stackhouse on the committee." Will was pacing
in Toby's office as he spoke. It should not have been a perilous task to listen
to him, but Will was perambulating without looking up from his own notes and no
matter where Toby sat or stood he was in danger of collision. "Who else?"
Toby consulted his own notes. "I have Ellsworth, McKenna, Packard--"
"Packard's a nutcase."
"I will not argue that point," Toby muttered. "Also Rankin. That's all I could
get Pearce to cough up."
"Cough up is right. Apart from Stackhouse, those are some pretty conservative
conservatives." Will adjusted his glasses. "How'd Stackhouse even get on the
list?" he asked.
"Because he's in the hospital having a quadruple bypass and won't actually, you
know, be at a meeting."
"Wow."
"Wow, indeed." Toby realized that he was chewing on his pen, so he removed it
from his mouth with a "hmph" and set it on the desk.
"Lollipops not working for you?"
"I had a cavity. So it's no to cigars and no to sugar. If something goes wrong
and I have to give up coffee, then you might as well put a gun to my head."
"You might want someone who's a better shot."
Toby laughed. "So, anyway, the question is how do we leak to the press that
there's a super-secret committee drafting language banning late term abortions?"
He handed Will the top sheet of his legal pad. "Read this."
"Huh." Will read it, then read it again, frowning. "I don't think CJ's going to
be happy with the language."
"It's in English," Toby said, shifting from one foot to the other and drawing
circles in the air with one hand.
"I'm not talking about the mother tongue, I'm talking about gender neutrality.
Or, rather, the lack of it."
"The committee members are all men."
Will pointed to one paragraph. "This doesn't need to read like--"
"The committee members are all men," Toby repeated as if Will were a small
child, possibly one who was not playing with a full deck.
"CJ's going to be very, very unhappy," Will reminded him.
"That's just tough. You know why? Because the people involved with this are all
men, even though there are plenty of women in Congress, including my ex-wife.
They're all men without any expertise in the field of medicine, even though
there are several members of Congress whose spouses are physicians. But mostly,
they're all men, and it wouldn't be such a terrible thing if the public knew
that only men were deciding this issue that affects women, and it wouldn't be
such a terrible thing if CJ got pumped up right before she had to say it on
television."
Will stared at Toby. "Your voice got really, really loud at the end."
"You think that was loud? Wait until you show this to CJ."
He'd walked right into that one.
"I walked right into that one, didn't I?"
"You bet." Toby took a seat on the sofa and produced a pair of rubber balls from
beneath a cushion. He tossed them back and forth. "You have a meeting with her
in about fifteen minutes."
"That's not long enough to write you out of my will."
"I'm in your will?"
"No, but I'd like to have time to write you into it so I can have the pleasure
of writing you out of it. Toby, she's going to tear me in half and feed me to
the wolves."
"You're going to make her see reason and read it as is," Toby said, tossing each
ball into the air in turn and catching it in the palm of the opposite hand.
"Why can't you make her see reason and read it as is?" Will asked forlornly.
"She barely knows me. We have no form of connection whatsoever. She has no
reason to trust me. Why would she take my word for it?"
Toby let both balls drop onto the sofa. He grinned up at Will. "You're afraid of
her, aren't you?"
"Well, yeah. She's nine feet tall and can make you feel like an idiot in ten
words or less. Of course I'm scared of her."
"You think you're the only one? The point is that you respect her. I respect
her, and so does Leo, and so does the President, and that's something she
knows." Toby paused to run his fingers through his beard. "Although she didn't
always."
"You mean there was a time when she wasn't able to turn a man's spine into
Jell-o?"
Toby shook his head and chuckled softly. "There was a time. You should've seen
her right after the election, when Leo and the President-elect were working on
what roles we'd take on in the White House."
***
November 1999
Temporary office in the OEOB
Toby knew he wasn't being paranoid, despite the number of times CJ told him he
was. He knew the President-elect had a preference for David Rosen, who was
younger, quicker, cooler - and nicer. Toby's verbal sparring with Bartlet was
becoming the stuff of legend and they hadn't taken office yet.
Some of the presentations were formalities, since everyone already knew that the
jobs of Chief and Deputy Chief of Staff were going to Leo and Josh. Leo stood
tall and proud as Bartlet read his speech and signed the certificate. Josh
fidgeted so much that Bartlet started rocking back and forth to maintain eye
contact. Sam, the newly minted Deputy Communications Director, kept his hands
behind his back and blushed.
"David Rosen," Bartlet said, and Rosen got to his feet, all six-feet-four-inches
of him. "David will, unfortunately, be leaving us for a job in the private
sector, but I wanted to take this opportunity to thank him for outstanding
service rendered and say that whenever he tires of paid vacation and a salary
higher than mine, he's welcome to join us in the White House."
"That's...unexpected," CJ whispered in Toby's ear.
"You still owe me five bucks, because you and I both know that he was definitely
their first choice, no matter who they pick instead."
"You'll get a job. I'm the one they'll leave behind," CJ protested. Leo must
have heard her, because he turned toward them and put a finger to his lips. CJ
started again, softer. "I have no national experience. None. There's no way
they'll keep me."
"I argue with the Governor at least three times a day. You think they'll keep
me?"
"Toby Ziegler." Bartlet raised his voice to let CJ and Toby know that they were
interrupting. Toby jumped to his feet and adjusted his tie. "Tobias Zachary
Ziegler, proposing special trust and confidence in your integrity, prudence, and
ability..."
The President-elect was actually saying those words to him.
"...I designate you to the post of White House Communications Director and
Special Assistant to the President. And I do authorize you to execute and
fulfill the duties of that office with all the powers and privileges, and
subject to the conditions prescribed. It is affirmed by my signature and affixed
with the Seal of the United States, and it is done so on this day, and in this
place." Bartlet signed the document and stamped the seal on it, then held it out
to Toby.
Why wasn't Andi here for this? Easy. She'd thought he was going to be left out.
Toby's hand trembled a little as he reached for the leather folder. Bartlet took
it between his own in a handshake understood only by them. "Congratulations,
Toby," he said.
Nothing came out of Toby's mouth when he opened it. He coughed, looking into
Bartlet's piercing blue eyes. "I...thank you, sir."
"You're welcome. And that seems to be all the documents I have on me today, so
you're dismissed."
Toby caught CJ's gaze. She was trying to look happy for him, but her eyes were
misty and sad. How the hell could Leo not know her value? Sure, she'd put a
basketball through the window at Headquarters and there were more than a few
people who knew about the thing with the swimming pool, but...
She shrugged and gathered her papers. Josh said something to Leo, who whistled
at the departing group. "Wait up, everybody, we're not done here."
Sam caught CJ by the arm and pulled her back into the room. She shook her hair
out of her face and gave everyone a tight, nervous smile.
Leo handed another black folder to Bartlet, who opened it and put his glasses on
again. "Ah, yes. CJ, would you come here, please?"
CJ brushed against Sam, knocking his precious folio out of his hands. "I'm so
sorry," she whispered, but Sam just picked it up and dusted it off, stroking it
as if it were a kitten. Bartlet cleared his throat as he motioned for CJ to come
up to him.
"Claudia Jean Cregg, proposing special trust and confidence in your integrity,
prudence, and ability, I designate you to the post of White House Press
Secretary..."
CJ gasped.
Toby smiled.
"...and special assistant to the President. And I do authorize you to execute
and fulfill the duties of that office with all the powers and privileges, and
subject to the conditions prescribed. It is affirmed by my signature and affixed
with the Seal of the United States, and it is done so on this day, and in this
place." Again Bartlet went through the ceremonial signing and stamping, and he
looked up into CJ's eyes, smiling. "Thank you. For everything."
"Yes sir," She had never sounded so stunned. As she turned to make her way back
to her place, she banged her leg against the table and dropped her glasses,
which fell into Toby's coffee cup.
"This is becoming a theme for you, CJ," he said wryly as he fished the glasses
out and wiped them on a napkin. She took them from his hand and he whispered,
"I'm very proud of you."
She beamed down at him and probably would have spoken except that she toppled
the chair next to her and had to pick it up again.
"Someone should pad the furniture in her office - and Sam's office, for that
matter," Josh quipped. His speech was rapid and his face was still flushed with
glory.
Bartlet put his glasses in his pocket. "You will be the five people who are
closest to me on a day to day basis. You will also be working in very close
quarters under circumstances that will not always be joyous. Do so in service to
your country, with respect for one another, and with the knowledge that you were
chosen for your unique abilities, including the ability to - politely, Toby -
disagree with me." He put his hand over his heart. "I am so sorry to deputize
and run, but I have a few million things to take care of before breakfast. You
guys know what you're doing the rest of today?" Everyone nodded. "Good," Bartlet
said tartly, "because I haven't got a clue. Senior Staff, we'll be meeting here
tomorrow morning at 7:30. Have a good day."
He left, flanked by Secret Service agents, but Leo remained behind with the
others. "How do you feel, Josh?" he asked.
Josh opened his mouth slowly. "I still hear it."
"Hear what?" CJ asked.
"Last night, when he called me in and said he was going to do this...my ears
started ringing. I don't know why. And just a few minutes ago, when it was
official, it happened again."
CJ's smile brightened the room. "Oh, thank God. I thought it was just me. Sam,
do you hear anything?"
Sam was lost in his own world, already writing things down in a small notebook.
"I hear us standing around talking when we have an inaugural address to write."
"Go on to our office - I'll be with you in a few minutes," Toby said, waving Sam
away with Josh at his heels, chattering about office space in the West Wing. He
looked over at Leo, unsure of what to say next. "I don't know how to say thank
you."
"That'll be fine," Leo said, a smile lighting his weary face. He looked tired,
more tired than the last few days of the campaign. Josh had told them over
breakfast that morning that they'd been up most of the night, arguing, and Toby
wondered how much of that argument had been centered around whether or not to
give him a place on the Senior Staff. "Toby, CJ, do you need me for anything?"
"No, we're good," CJ said, then she quickly corrected herself. "Hang on, Leo."
She was in flat shoes but she still towered over him as he waited for her
question. "I have to know - I don't understand - why did you pick me?"
Toby waited, wanting to hear what Leo would say. CJ was still so unsure of
herself, despite her rousing triumph on the campaign, and she was looking to Leo
for advice, for something avuncular and comforting.
Leo peered up at her. "Have you seen the press room? You're the only one tall
enough to see over the damn podium. Now, both of you, go do a job."
CJ and Toby stared at one another, dumbfounded, as Leo stalked off. "He's got a
point," Toby said blandly. CJ poked him in the ribs with her pencil and left
Toby behind, chuckling into his beard.
***
"He actually said that to her?" Will asked, unsuccessfully trying to hide
laughter.
"Unlike you, he has no fear of CJ Cregg. Now, you need to--"
He was cut off by Josh's sudden entrance. Breathless and pale, Josh ran one hand
through his hair as he passed a piece of paper to Will with the other.
Will read the message, blanching, then took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
"How'd you get this?"
"Zoey was checking e-mail in my office again. They were doing that internet
chatting thing just this morning, I don't understand--"
"You'd better get this to Charlie and have him tell Zoey," Will said decisively.
"She knows - she ran out of the office when she saw it, so I looked at it and
printed it out." He looked from Will to Toby.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Toby said, but from the looks on Josh
and Will's faces he knew the news had to be terrible.
Will sighed heavily. "There was a girl we met in Virginia at the SADD thing. She
and Zoey struck up a correspondence."
"Is this a death threat?" Toby asked, his heart racing.
"No. Nothing like that." Will took a steadying breath. "She's dead. She died a
couple hours ago."
"How?" Toby asked, hoping against hope. "Was she sick?"
"You won't believe this," Will said. "She was taking someone home from church
and she was broad-sided. By a drunk driver."
Oh, God. Toby rubbed the top of his head, feeling a headache coming on already.
"Where'd she go?"
"I'm not sure," Josh replied, "but the agents were having to run to keep up with
her."
Toby looked from Will to Josh, both men tightly coiled. "Go," he said, pointing
to the bullpen. He leaned against the bookcase, his head lowered, and tried to
remember a time when everything in Zoey's life hadn't been a disaster.
***
Part 4