Chapter 37

Leo hurried through the crowded airport towards the gate where his daughter's plane would soon be disembarking.  Looking towards a nearby sign, he cursed under his breath as he realized that it wasn't 'soon,' but rather now.  "Leave it to Margaret to book her on the one airline that would arrive on time," he muttered as he quickened his pace.

It took him a few minutes to make it to the gate, which he had been closed. Annoyed at himself and the situation, he turned to scan the small crowd that still milled near it waiting for other flights to find his daughter, thankful that his she had inherited her mother's distinctive red locks, as he cut through it and towards where she sat.  "Mal, sorry I wasn't here when you landed," he said stiffly, causing her to look up at him over the book she had been reading.

"Should I be surprised?" she asked cuttingly as she looked away and slipped the book into her bag, only to sigh as she looked at him again and took in the worry lines that etched his face.  "How's Donna?"

"I didn't get to talk to Abbey before I left the hospital.  Last I heard they were still waiting for test results," he answered as she rose and he bent to pick up her carry on bag.  "Do you have other bags?" he asked.

"Considering that I'm interviewing for a job here, yes."

"Since when?" Leo asked as they started towards the luggage carousel.

"Since when what?"

"Since when are you interviewing so far away from home."

"Since when have I had a home?" Mal shot back icily, causing Leo to blanche as she pulled one of her bags off the carousel and waited for the others.  "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"Why not? You don't exactly pull your punches."

"Well, it's better than not saying anything at all," she sighed as she reached for her bag.  "I'm really tired of going in circles."

"Mal. . ."

"I was referring to work," she said forestalling any of his arguments as she turned, allowing him to take the bag at her feet as she took the other.  "But I guess it applies to other things as well."

"It apparently does," Leo sighed as they walked through the airport.  "Come on, I made reservations for dinner at the hotel.  We should be able to talk a bit about, well things."

"Yeah."

"And if we're not finished, we can talk upstairs.  I think Ron said they were putting you in the room adjoining mine."

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"Just that.  I'm not staying with that circus.  V said I can spend the night in the Penthouse's guest room, and I had reservations for tomorrow anyway, so. . ." she shrugged. 

"And then what?"

"Then I'll handle it," she told him stiffly.

"Mallory. . ."

"Dad, the concern act isn't going to wash, ok?" she sighed, "Because if you were so concerned. . ." she shook her head as she stopped walking.

"If I was so concerned what?" he asked as he turned to look at her.

Mallory sighed, she might be hitting her mark with her comments, but she wasn't up to letting him see just how much she was hurting.  "Never mind.  I'm not the one who needs to be your concern right now anyway."

"Mallory, you're always my concern."

"Yeah, well, you certainly have a funny way of showing it," she said softly.  So softly she hoped he missed it, but for once, Leo McGarry hadn't missed what his daughter had to tell him. . .

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Gail Baldwin rose from the dinner table as did Lee, each reaching for plates.  "Lee, sit down, Scotty will help me with the dishes," she chided, causing both men to look at her.

"I will?" Scott asked, then at his step-mother's look forced a laugh.  "Oh, yeah, I will," he shrugged as he stood and took the plates from his father's hands, grabbed a few more and followed her into the kitchen.  "So what's up?"

"Who said anything was 'up?'" Gail asked as she ran a dish under the faucet and looked at him sideways.

"Oh, I don't know? The ever so subtle hint to help in the kitchen?" he asked as he took the plate from her and put it in the dishwasher.

"Well, I don't believe that anything's up.  I just thought you might be interested to know I received a call from an old friend of yours."

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it," Scott cracked without looking up.

"Scotty, I'm serious here."

Hearing the tone in her voice, Scott straightened.  "I can tell.  So who called?"

"Joshua Lyman."

"Now that's someone I haven't heard from in a while."

"When is the last time you heard from him?"

"I don't know. . . I talked to him during the DV thing.  He got me some information that I needed. . ." Scott answered as he leaned against a nearby cabinet and tried to remember the last time they had talked. "No, wait, I talked to him after that.  During the hoopla surrounding the MS announcement, back when it looked like they might be facing charges. . ."

"He asked you to represent him?" Gail asked a bit surprised.

"No. . . Actually, he asked if I would represent his assistant if the need arose.  It never did," he shrugged. 

"What do you know about his assistant?"

Scott laughed slightly at that, "other than he probably had a thing for her not a whole lot.  Spoke to her a couple of times on the phone; she seemed nice enough, efficient.  I'd also guess she had a whole lot of patience.  She took care of him after he was shot.  Kept a tight rein on him too.  Had all sorts of rules in place, could barely get a call though. Why the interest?"

"Just trying to get some insight, is all."

"Insight into what? Josh isn't in trouble is he?"

"No.  Nothing like that.  I just think he might be in need of an old friend while he's in town, is all."

"Josh is in town? Why?"

"Because his former assistant was in some sort of accident.  She's in critical condition at GH."

"Really.  Huh, wonder who she is. . ." Scott commented as he bent down and closed the dish washer, pausing mid action.  "Nah, couldn't be. . ."

"Couldn't be what dear?"

"Nothing. . . I just must have the wrong name.  Besides, there have to be a million of them, right?"

"Million what, dear?"

Scott looked over at Gail, a slight frown on his face, "I just remembered his assistant's name is all."

"And?"

"It's Donna.  You don't think?"

"Oh, lord," Gail muttered, catching onto his train of thought as they started to walk back into the dining room and the middle of Frank and Karen's conversation  ". . . did he actually said that?" Frank asked.

"Apparently.  I heard her comment when Cassidine was introducing them was on how they were discussing the 'duties of the First Lady,'" Karen answered on a shake of her head.  "Colleen said Joe went white when he made the connection."

"Well, it's not like he was expecting to run into the former First Lady at the nurse's station," Frank defended his brother.  "I mean she has quite a formidable reputation in the medical field.  As great of a hospital as GH is. . ." he shrugged.

"You have a point especially considering who she's treating."

"And who's that?"

"According to the hospital grape vine, Donna Moss.  From what I've heard she's doing it as a favor to some guy named McGarry who had Donna's MPA. And let's just say he made an impression on the couple of staff members who met him all his own."

Scott and Gail shared a look, shaking his head, all Scott could mutter was: "this is definitely going to get interesting. . ."