H.B. wanders back to his office. They had been between scenes on the set, adjusting the lighting, and there was nothing to distract him. He's going to have to think about this.

Marcia looks up. "Who was that guy, H.B.?"

"He's an old…he's just someone I know."

"You didn't seem to recognize him."

"I haven't seen him in awhile. Messages?"

"Sally, Sally, and your publicist," she says, waving a note. "'Why didn't you tell me about you and Sally?'"

"Yeah," he sighs, crumpling it up.

"I told her it was crap, and she's already started diffusing it."

"Good. So, listen, tomorrow, what's my schedule like? Packed, right? Important things going on?"

"No," she laughs, "nothing's going on. I don't think the security guards are bothering to show up tomorrow." She pauses, looking up at him. "Don't tell me you're going on some crazy flight of fancy and I'm going to have to be here at six AM."

"No. No, no, I'm…no." He sighs. "Should I call her?"

"Dammit, Boss, you're not supposed to have those thoughts until you're good and plastered."

He smirks. "Is that an invitation?"

She rolls her eyes. "Stop it."

"You know, you could save me hours of my sister gloating, and you can be my date Sunday."

"No." She stands up. "I sent your pages in, they were really great, Boss."

"You're changing the topic."

She spins around. "H.B., being coupled with Sally Carlson looks three thousand times better than showing up with your assistant, and you know it."

"Oh, I don't give a damn—"

"And the press would certainly spin it as you leaving Sally for your assistant—"

"Well, I was never with Sally, and she planted a story saying that we were together, so don't you think it would be a nice little jab to play it like I left her for you?"

She smiles, but stops herself. "I don't go out with boys who don't tell me their real names."

"How sure are you of that?" H.B. asks.

She narrows her eyes. "Would you like me to get Sally on the phone for you?"

"Are you threatening me?"

She sighs and leans into her desk. "I think you should call her, because you need to at least tell her that you're not taking her to the Emmys."

"I'm just afraid I'll…"

"Get suckered in by her feminine wiles?"

"Well, yeah."

"Hey, you could just tell her that you've concocted an elaborate lie to hide your real name from her. I bet she'd be pretty pissed about that."

"Marcia—"

"I think it shows a certain level of distrust."

"What did you expect? I go by H.B. because I don't want people to know my real name, so why are you so bugged about this?"

"Because I'm not people. I'm not one of your colleagues. We have a close relationship. I've driven you home from bars, I wake you up every Monday, I send your mother flowers from you three times a year, and I've even dressed you once, so I'd like to think that when I asked you what your real name was, you would've been honest!"

"And I'd think that, knowing me as you do, you'd understand that I just don't like my name!"

"Why not," she whines. "What's wrong with Huckleberry? It's interesting."

"Oh, yeah," he laughs. "It was real interesting and cool, up until I went to college, and I couldn't meet a new person without them adding 'Finn' or 'Hound' to the end."

"And you really thought I'd do that?"

"I'm expecting it in your next drunken message," he smiles.

"I won't…I don't leave you drunken messages."

"Okay," he says, rolling his eyes.

"I…I just thought that I knew…you know, you."

"You do," he says softly. She doesn't seem satisfied. H.B. sighs. "When we were little, Molly tried to say 'Huckleberry,' and it came out more like 'Hubry,' and that got shortened to 'Hub.'"

Marcia nods. "She calls you that all the time."

"So, at the beginning of college, I complained to Molly that I dreaded introducing myself to anyone, and she told me just to make up a new name. She said college was for starting over, and if I wanted to change my name, now was the time. So, I chose H.B. and everyone assumed it was…you know, Huckle and Berry. But I chose it to stand for Hub. And no one else knows that, not even Molly."

Marcia's face crumples. "Ooh…"

"Marcia…"

"That is so sweet!"

"I didn't tell you so you'd turn to goo. I just…now you know the real secret about my name."

She takes a breath to calm herself. "Thank you, Boss."

"Don't go telling her now."

"Oh, no, this secret's all mine." She smiles, offering her own olive branch. "I'll call Sally and cancel for you. No need to worry about her wiles."

"That won't be horribly tacky of me?"

"She was using you to climb the Hollywood ladder. She played on your chivalrous nature, roped you into an invite to the awards, and then made sure you were hyped up as a deep, committed couple, just so the press would stop focusing on how big of a flop her last movie was. You can't really out-tacky that."

He grins. "Can I really get away with not speaking to her about this?"

"I'll just tell her that you're too busy to bother with her, and that you found an escort who won't cost you so much."

His grin widens as he walks into his office. "Oh, if only that were true."

Huck and his sister had, completely without planning, gone to college far, far away from home—and one hour away from each other. Any time the subject comes up in conversation, Huck is bombarded by people cooing over how cute it is. He tends to just smile and move along now, but for a long time he was determined to explain to everyone exactly what had happened.

He had been accepted to every school he'd applied to, all of the most prestigious in the country. His father had wanted him to go to Columbia. His mother had wanted him to stay in Washington and go to Georgetown, or if he had to leave, go to Princeton. Huck had finally settled on Cornell, mainly because it was the most complicated to get to, and visits would be infrequent. Then, before he could announce his decision, his father and CJ announced that they bought a winter cabin in upstate New York. With the safety radius enormously decreased, Huck went to his second choice, Stanford, which was on a completely different coast and 45 minutes away from any airport.

At the same time, Molly was having a much easier time choosing her college. She liked Berkeley because it delighted CJ, amused their father, and infuriated their mother.

The twins announced their decisions on the same day, and Huck immediately panicked. The two of them being so close together would encourage more visits. However, after the first month of school, Huck realized that he enjoyed his mother being across the country, he liked his father and CJ being wherever they decided to be, and he wanted his sister to be right down the highway.

Huck was constantly astounded by the bond between them. They were so different that he was sure, had they not been born together, they would have never said two words to each other.

They had run in different crowds in high school, each barely acknowledging the other. Huck envied how sociable she was, while Molly envied how studious he was. It was partially out of this desire for what they lacked that the siblings came to be in the places they were today. Huck was in show business, partying with the Hollywood elite, and being as visible as could be. Molly, after their father's death eight months ago, had rented a secluded cottage in Napa, and was living with her boyfriend—who she had no intention of marrying—and spending her days composing poetry.

Both had changed so much, had fought to change so much, that they each found that their only constant was each other. At the end of each day, no one could explain, no one understood like their twin.

It was why Huck dialed her number without thinking, why they answered their phones without wondering.

"You owe me five hundred dollars," Molly says as a greeting.

"How the hell do you already know…?"

"I bought my dress the last time I was in L.A."

"The last time...we made this bet, and you went and bought a dress?"

"Yes. I knew that Sally was no good."

"And you really have no faith—"

"None at all," she answers. "By the way, my friends think you're gay."

Huck bangs his head down to his desk. "Molly—"

"Don't worry, I told them you weren't. I said 'trust me, I would love if he were gay. That would explain it all.' But, no. You're just absolutely horrible at finding a decent girl."

"Thank you, Molly, 'cause what I need right now is a reminder that I'm pathetic and hopeless."

"Oh, don't get all self-deprecating. It makes me feel bad."

Huck lifts his head and puts on his most sarcastic voice. "Gee, Molls, I'm so thrilled I'm going to the Emmys with you. There's no one I'd rather be with than my twin sister, and even if it took the complete, public implosion of my love life, I'm totally thrilled because it all led to this."

"Much better," she teases.

"So, hey, listen. How would you feel about driving into Sacramento tomorrow?"

There's a pause. "Okay, my Emmy Award nominated brother doesn't get to be stingy about plane tickets."

"No, that's not…I'm sort of…thinking of going to Sacramento tomorrow, for a few hours. And I was thinking, you could meet me there, and then we'd fly back together."

She snorts. "Why would you be in Sacramento?"

"I don't know, I…I had a visitor today."

"Who?"

"Josh Lyman?"

Molly gasps. "Uncle Josh visited you?"

"He's not our uncle."

"Yes he is," Molly insists.

"No he's…I don't even know who he is, how can he be my uncle?"

"He just is."

"Whatever, Molls. I just…he asked me to go to Sacramento tomorrow. He wants me to listen to the Senator."

"Uncle Sam?"

Huck sighs, not in the mood to argue with her anymore. "Yeah."

"Why did he do that?"

"I think he's trying to get me to work for them."

Huck can hear the joy in Molly's voice. "Oh, that'd be wonderful. Uncle Sam's a great man, and this would be the perfect way for you to get back into politics."

"I don't want to get back into politics. I left for a reason, you know."

"You left because you were disillusioned. Sam can get you…re-illusioned."

"I don't need to be…three minutes ago you seemed perfectly fine with the job I had," Huck sighs.

"I'd much rather accompany you to the Inaugural Balls than the Emmys."

"If I were working in a job where I was going to the Inaugural Balls, I wouldn't be able to cover your plane ticket, never mind your five hundred dollar dress."

"I guess it's a good thing I already have it," she replies blithely.

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to be working…" Huck replays her words. "Wait, the Inaugural Balls? This is…this guy wants me for a Presidential campaign?"

"Well, he's not gonna head up the Student Council."

"I thought it was re-election, or maybe Governor, but not…God, what is wrong with this guy?"

"Uncle Josh?"

Huck stands up, pacing around his office. "He just shows up at my office, to try to get me to go to Sacramento, so he can convince me to work on…I've never done a statewide campaign, never mind presidential. I've only done two total, and yeah, we won, but…why in the world would he want me?"

Molly chuckles slightly. "You're family."

Huck takes off in a different direction. "I'm your family, I'm Dad's family, I am, sort of, CJ's family, but I am not Josh Lyman's family!"

"Yes, you are, H.B. God, you don't…get it."

"What?"

"It's the Bartlet family. We're Dad's children, we were born the day Zoey Bartlet was kidnapped, and even if we hadn't been, we would still be a part of it. It's not something we have a choice about. Maybe you couldn't have picked Josh Lyman out of a lineup, but he would walk through fire for you. Because Dad did for him."

"Well, that's fine and dandy, Molls—"

"No, there's more," she interrupts. "Campaigns, for them…it's not about having the right answers. They don't want the people who will win; they want the people who deserve to win. And I don't know why Josh showed up at your office, I'm not sure what he has planned for you, but I know it's got to be something good. Because they are good people. And…if you don't tell me when I should be meeting you in Sacramento tomorrow, I will be very, very mad."

Huck bites his lip. "We should get in around 8:30."

"Okay. I'll probably call you around then, frantic 'cause I can't find the airport.

"Okay," he smiles.

"You're not going to regret this, Hub. I promise."

"I'll hold you to that."

There's a brief pause. "You know, when you leave a car at the airport—"

"I'll pay for it," he groans. "Just be there."

"Hey, we made a promise, didn't we? No family gatherings without each other."

"Yeah," he sighs. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Bright and early."

"Love you, Molls."

"You too, H.B."

Josh relaxes in his seat, happy to finally be onboard the plane. He leans back, closes his eyes, and tries to think about anything other than the empty seat next to him. He's going to have to just move on, because he can't be preoccupied by this when CJ picks him up at the airport. This is why he never told anyone.

Josh leans forward, rubbing the back of his neck, and is ready to call over a flight attendant and place an early request for a drink when a bag plops down next to him. After some shuffling in the overhead compartment, Huck sits down.

"This doesn't mean anything."

"Okay," Josh laughs.

"I'm not saying yes," Huck insists.

Josh raises his hands. "Fine."

They stare at each other for a few moments, then both look away, Huck pulling out some work, and Josh grinning ahead.