"So," Mallory commented, straightening Sam's tie, "are you ready for work?"

Sam nodded, looking very much like a schoolboy again. "You're sure you don't mind?" he asked, shrugging on his overcoat.

"Of course not," she answered, kissing his forehead. "You've been gone so much in the last little while that I don't think I could stand you around the house anyway. You'd just get underfoot."

Sam fixed her with puppy dog eyes. She just laughed and pushed his briefcase into his chest, pushing him out the door. "Go on or you'll be late. You don't want to set a bad example for the young ones."

"You sound like a teacher," he teased, blowing a kiss over his shoulder to her.


It was still early enough in the morning that the sidewalks weren't crowded. People were just starting to get themselves set up on the beach, but this was Rhode Island, not California or Florida, and there was plenty of space to go around. The sun shone brightly, warming the air, and the breeze off the water was pleasant, keeping the heat from becoming oppressive. Joggers wove their ways purposefully through the people who were just wandering along.

"Hey, Jack!"

Jack turned, looking over his shoulder to see who had called his name. "Josh?" he asked breathlessly, jogging in place. "What are you doing here?"

"A little birdie told me you jog this way every morning," Josh answered, a wide grin splitting his face.

"And I suppose that same birdie told you Alex took CJ and the girls on the ferry to Providence for the day," Jack replied, doubling back toward Josh.

"That'd be the one," Josh replied, motioning up the hill toward the parking lot. "Come on. Toby's waiting for us in the car."

"But it's gorgeous out here," Jack told him, looking down the length of the beach. "You sure that you want to get back in a stuffy car?"

"Stuffy? Do you honestly think that we'd bring a car that didn't have air conditioning?" Josh laughed. "And do you think that Toby would voluntarily spend unnecessary time outdoors?"

Jack chuckled instead of answering and jogged back up toward the car, Josh trailing behind him. "If we've got to have this talk inside, then I at least want something good to eat. Take me home, let me change, and I'll buy the two of you some breakfast."

"If you're going to buy us food," Josh joked, "I'm sure that Toby would even consent to eat outside."

"Be careful," Jack warned, wagging his finger playfully t Josh, "I just might take you up on that."

"Take him up on what?" Toby inquired sharply.

"He proposed we dine al fresco, provided I foot the bill," Jack explained. He eyed Toby and Josh, adding, "But judging from the way you two are dressed, you might overheat if you're outside an air conditioned space for more than a few minutes."

"What's wrong with how I'm dressed?" Toby asked defensively, looking down at his clothing.

"Khakis without a jacket or tie might be the summer standard in New York," Jack told him, "but things around here are a little more casual. You could loosen up a bit and, I don't know, put on a T-shirt or a pair of shorts."

"I don't do shorts anymore," Toby declared firmly. "Now get in the car. We've got stuff to talk about.

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"That sounds like a line out of a bad movie."

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"That's the point, you bonehead," Joan groaned, rolling her eyes and smacking Noah over the head with her notebook. "You need to get out more, brother-o'-mine."

"Well, sister unit, you need to spend more time writing your position papers and less time watching bad movies," Noah countered, reaching around the back of her chair to yank on her ponytail.

"I don't watch bad movies," she clarified. "I just mock them."

"How can you mock them if you don't watch them?" Noah asked innocently. He maintained the façade for a moment, until Joan's face had flushed. She didn't have an answer. Then he let a grin flash across his face. "I got you there," he laughed.

"Fine," she huffed, "I guess you can have that one. But the score's still not even. You've slipped in the last couple of weeks, Noah. It's going to take more than just one little trip-up for you to catch me."

"Actually," Noah countered calmly, "I believe this score of which you speak is swung in my favour. You're obviously not counting the last debate meeting. Or Watson's party. Or our government conference. Or…" He paused for a second. "Do I need to keep going?"

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"I think you've made your point."

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"I know I've made the point," Zoey answered. "But I don't just want to make the point. The jury can see that much on their own. I want to make them see the bigger picture."

"The jury might be able to see the point," Charlie told her, leaning back in his chair and closing the folder of information. "But if you don't make your point well, there might still be room for reasonable doubt."

"You don't need to repeat it to me again," she retorted sharply. "I understood it the first time that someone explained it to me. Back in law school."

Then she sighed and looked seriously at her husband. "I'm not worried about losing this case. It's an open and shut case. His partner confessed completely. I want to make the bigger point about these groups. But I don't want to make it look like I'm just settling old scores."

"That' is what you're doing though, aren't you?" he questioned. "I thought that was the purpose of you taking the case in the first place. These groups spawned off of West Virginia White Pride," he added needlessly, just in case she could have ever forgotten.

"The purpose of us taking this case was a desire to do the right thing," Zoey stated firmly. "Any number of firms could have taken the case, but we took it because having me try it made for better publicity. They don't trot it out often, but having Jed Bartlet's daughter try any case like this makes for big news."

"Publicity doesn't win a case."

"No, it doesn't, but the publicity on this case will raise the level of awareness on racist groups. People have all but forgotten about them. But they still exit. I want to spark debate on hate crime legislation. I want that to be my revenge for Rosslyn and for everything else." She sighed, reaching up to rub at the scars she carried from the kidnapping. "I don't want to win this case. I want to use it."

It was Charlie's turn to sigh as he looked across at his wife. "When you took it, you also knew that it would help bring me back into the national eye again, if I chose to run for the nomination."

"That had nothing to do with the reason I took this case," she declared firmly. "That point is fairly moot by now anyway," she noted wryly. "Besides, with the way things are proceeding, it won't come to trail until after the primaries are over anyway."

"You know, you were never meant to be a politician's wife," Charlie told her. "You were never happy standing in the background."

"I was never meant to be anything else," she corrected him. "After all, didn't someone say 'Behind every man is a strong woman?'"

"Close enough," Charlie laughed. "Your dad would have known who it was."

"He would have," Zoey agreed. "But you know, I'm just as happy being the wife of a well-loved law professor."

"And a brilliant civil rights lawyer in your own right," Charlie added.

"I had to fight back somehow," she said. "I just couldn't take it all lying down." She rubbed her hand over her scars again. "It's just not in my nature."

Charlie got up and walked around the desk so that he could stand behind his wife, placing his hands on her shoulders. "It's not in any of our natures," he granted.