It came in the late afternoon, after Nancy had jeopardized her job to get Sam the information he needed. Reading the file, he saw damming evidence of Daniel Gault's espionage activities. This person, whose innocence he had believed in unconditionally, even writing his junior thesis on it while at Princeton and sending Gault's son a copy, actually was a Russian spy. There was no way he could put this man on the pardons list. Now he had to go upstairs and tell Donna's friend that her grandfather had been a spy. Donna convinced him to tell her that he'd try again in 3 months. She needed this, Donna said, because her father was dying. This would give them some hope.

After telling Donna's friend that he'd try again in 3 months, he could see the tension melt away from her face. After she'd left, he told Donna that initially he'd been very angry because she manipulated him. But, he said, he'd forgive her because when he saw the tension leave Stephanie's face, he knew that he'd given some hope to both to her and her dying father. What he didn't tell her was that one of his long-held beliefs was murdered because of this favor that she'd asked of him. When Donna left, he closed his door, sat down at his desk and tried to clear his head. He was like this for 45 minutes. Then his line rang, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Sam Seaborn"

"Hi, son"

"How're you doing, Dad?"

"Fine, Sam. The firm's doing well, too. We just brought on a new partner. Reminds me a lot of you."

"Dad, what's wrong?"

"Well, Sam, I have to tell you something. But before I tell you, I want you to remember that I've loved you since before you were born."

Sam laughed at that, "I know that, Dad. I love you, too. Now, tell me what's wrong." Suddenly, he started to feel an icy dread climb up his spine, but dismissed it.

"Sam, I've been having an affair with a woman in Santa Monica for the last 28 years."

All of his other thoughts came to a screeching halt. His father'd kept talking, but he didn't hear much of what he'd been saying.

Affair...woman....Santa Monica...28 years.

That was nearly his entirely life.

"Was she the reason you missed my first regatta, my high school graduation, my first homecoming weekend, my admission to the Bar? Was she the reason you declined the President and Dr. Bartlet's dinner invitation after that event when I introduced you?"

"Sam, you have to understand..."

"It's a very simple question, Dad. Yes or no?"

There was silence on the other end. Sam thought he knew what the answer would be, but he needed to hear his father say it to confirm his suspicions.

He heard an answer on the other end.

"Dad, I couldn't hear you. What did you say?"

He heard his father take a deep breath before he spoke.

"I'm very sorry, son, but yes, she was."

Sam's brain went blank as the core of his existence imploded around him. The family that he grew up in hadn't really been a family at all.

"Sam? Honey, you still there?" The concern was evident in his father's voice.

"Yeah, I'm still here."

"Are you OK?"

A switch flipped inside of him and the change was horribly evident.

"Am I OK?? Yeah, Dad, I'm doing great. I just found out that the man I've worshipped my entire existence has been leading a double life."

"Sam, it wasn't a double life."

"The HELL it wasn't." Toby looked through the glass window that their offices shared. He tried to back away before Sam saw him. Sam strode to the front windows and turned on the light. Then, he dropped the blinds, hard, on their shared window. He'd seen Sam's face, and it scared even him. It was a mix of anger and hatred.

Sam laughed bitterly, "Oh, that's right, of COURSE it was. You had us and you had her in Santa Monica. You only came to us when you needed your family fix, then you went back to her and the fun in Santa Monica."

"Now, Sam, that's an unfair characterization of her...."

"Do I care? DO I CARE? No, Dad, I don't because from where I am, that's exactly what it looks like to me!! You were gone for weeks on business trips, and now I see those trips were to her. Do you know what it's like to get teased and humiliated because only your mother shows up for things? Do you know the disappointment I felt when I won my first regatta cup, when I was sworn in to the Bar and you weren't there? Well, I'm going to tell you that, and then I don't want you to call me unless I've called you for whatever reason.

It was horrible, Dad. I was called so many awful things. Things that children weren't supposed to know, but they did and they laid it all out on me. You have no idea how many times I got sent home while in elementary school for fighting, because I was defending you!! Defending the fact that I did have a father! I saw so many of my friends being congratulated by their fathers after the regatta that it hurt. I wanted you to watch me sail, to be proud of me when we finished, especially since we'd won. I just asked Mom to bring me home. Dad, your not being there hurt me so much it nearly made me sick.

When I was sworn into the Bar, I needed you there. Finally, we weren't just father and son anymore, we were colleagues. When I signed the register, I wanted you there because I wanted to be with you the first moments that I was a real lawyer. I wanted to be able to tell you and Mom that I'd finally become what I'd wished for since I was very, very little: A lawyer, just like my dad.

Remember the time when you and Mom found me in the treehouse even though you'd put me to bed in my room? I went out there after you were asleep. I went out there because I didn't want to wake you or Mom and cried so hard. I thought I'd done something horrible that made you not want to be there with me after school. I thought," Sam's voice suddenly got small and scared, "I thought you didn't love me anymore."

"Son, I've always loved you. Nothing ever changed that. I'm..."

"It's a little late for that, isn't it, Dad?"

"Yeah. But it doesn't stop me from wanting to say it. Sam, I have no right to ask for anything from you, but I'd appreciate it if you would do this for me."

Sam's reply was bitter and sharp, "What?"

"I called your mom before I called you. Would you please call her? I'm worried about her."

Sam's tone softened slightly, "Yeah, I'll call Mom."

"Son, I'll respect your wishes. I love you. Please, take care of your mother."

"I will."

They both hung up after that.

Sam called his mother and gave her a vague idea of his phone call. He could hear the tears in her voice. He made sure to call her at least once a week after that.

He hasn't spoken to his father since that call.