London, England
When Abbey and Zoey arrived at the party, all the other guests had arrived and the party was in full swing. They gazed around at their surroundings in awe. There were hundreds of people in attendance, very few of which they even recognized. They had barely overcome their disorientation, when they were nearly attacked by Lord John Marbury and Sir Anthony Prescott.
"ABIGAIL!"
Naturally, that was Lord John. His usual opening line had become nothing short of legendary to those who knew him, and knew Abbey.
"Lord John," Abbey replied, grinning from ear to ear.
"You are a vision as always."
"Thank you!"
John turned to greet Zoey, and Tony made a step in Abbey's direction.
"Hello, Abbey."
"Hi, Tony. Lovely party."
"I thought you hated parties."
"Oh, I do."
Tony laughed, as she continued.
"But as far as parties goes, this one is lovely."
"Well, I'm glad you think so."
"Hi, Tony," Zoey said.
"Zoey! You look wonderful."
"Thanks!"
"Should I be making the rounds and introducing myself?" Abbey asked.
"No, no. Let people come to you. Relax. I told you, this isn't like Washington."
Abbey rolled her eyes, skeptically.
"We'll see about that."
Washington, D.C.
"Did you have those roses sent?" Jed asked Debbie as she strode into the Oval Office.
"Yes, sir. They should arrive in London today."
"And the letter?"
"And the letter," Debbie confirmed.
"She'll get them today?"
"Yes, sir."
"You think she'll like the roses?" Jed asked, uncertainly.
"What's not to like about roses?"
"That's what I thought too. Leo doesn't think she'll like them."
"Oh, she'll like them, sir. But I'm not sure that's going to send her running into your arms," Debbie replied.
Jed did a double take, taking a moment to study his secretary. Immediately her eyes widened in horror at what she had just said.
"I'm sorry, sir. That was incredibly insensitive of me. You know I would never…"
"It's all right, Debbie. You make a fair point."
He smiled.
"Sir?"
"She's not going to forgive me all on account of a few dozen roses. I'm going to have to work at it," Jed said.
"Yes, sir. I have faith in you."
"I appreciate that. Now. What's next?"
Baltimore, Maryland
Throughout the past few weeks, Eleanor Bartlet hadn't been acting like herself. She was normally a very quiet, reserved woman. But lately, she had also been distracted and emotionally removed from most situations. Most people hadn't noticed the slight change in her behavior. Her boyfriend, Mark Schaefer, was the only exception. When Ellie and Mark first met at Yale, they had become fast friends, but nothing more. They met again a few years later at Johns Hopkins, both in med school. In the two years they'd been dating, Mark had been a source of comfort and reassurance to her during the MS scandal, re-election, and later, her sister's abduction. Mark had sensed that Ellie needed to get out. She needed to relax and enjoy herself. Thus, he took her out to dinner. Unfortunately, it was the same night at Lord Marbury's party and she couldn't take her mind off of it for a second.
"Ellie."
Mark's voice jolted her back to reality, and out of her reverie.
"Hmm?"
"Aren't you going to eat?" He asked.
"Oh, um…I'm not really hungry."
"You should really eat something."
"No," Ellie replied, softly. "I'm fine."
"Okay." He put his fork down. "What's going on?"
"What?"
"You've been acting strange for weeks now. What is it?"
"It's nothing, Mark. Don't worry about it."
"Ellie, if something's bothering you, something's bothering me too. Tell me."
She sighed.
"It's just…you know, my parents."
"They're still not talking?" Mark asked.
"Yeah. Mom still refuses his calls. And now…" She trailed off.
"What, El?"
"Now, Zoey says there's someone else."
Mark's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"What do you mean, someone else?"
"Apparently, Mom's met some guy in England. Liz calls him Nobility Man, because apparently he's been knighted or something. Zoey thinks something's going to happen between them."
Mark laughed.
"Even I know your mother would never do that!"
Ellie shrugged.
"Ellie…come on. You don't really think…"
"I don't know anymore. I can't even begin to fathom this situation. And it all happens so fast. I don't think either of them even know what they're doing. I don't think Dad knows what hit him. And I don't think Mom's even…in her right mind," Ellie said.
"What do you mean?"
"She's not thinking clearly. I mean, this just…isn't her. I have no idea what's going through her mind."
"You don't think maybe she's just…a little disoriented? A lot has happened in the last two months, Ellie."
"Maybe she was at first. But now it's more than that. I wish I could understand it. I really do. This is my mother we're talking about. I don't always agree with everything she does, but at least I usually understand it on some level."
"She's a grown woman. She knows what she's doing, El. I don't think she's going to throw her entire life away over this, do you?"
Ellie shook her head.
"I guess not."
"Okay then. Now. Will you eat something please?"
London, England
Zoey Bartlet was always quick to make friends. After a few minutes of mingling at the party, she had already acquired quite a large following of companions. By 9:30, she sat at a table surrounded by girls her age, all of them sipping from their glasses of wine.
"Excuse me."
All her friends stopped talking and stared at the attractive young man who had just appeared behind the First Daughter of the United States. Zoey turned around.
"I'm sorry to interrupt."
Zoey's jaw dropped a little while a smile crept over her face.
"That's okay!"
"I was just wondering if you'd like to join me on the dance floor."
Zoey looked back at her friends, who had begun squealing girlishly.
"Go, Zoey!"
"Well," Zoey said, with a sigh. "All right."
She allowed the young man to lead her onto the dance floor, all the while curiously observing him.
"I'm Zoey Bartlet," she said, finally.
He grinned, and she immediately found herself under his spell.
"Oliver Prescott."
London, England
"I'm so sorry the President couldn't be here, Mrs. Bartlet."
"Yes, well, he wanted to, Mr. Prime Minister," Abbey lied.
"Tony. I've told you many times, call me Tony," Prime Minister Tony Blair replied.
"Well, then you have to call me Abbey."
"Fair enough."
Abbey grinned at him, then took another sip from her champagne glass. She nearly spit the champagne back into the glass when Sir Tony Prescott approached him, out of nowhere.
"Tony, old boy," Tony Blair greeted him.
"Glad you could make it, Mr. Prime Minister," Tony Prescott said, with a wink.
"Now, that's enough with calling me Mr. Prime Minister, Tony. I've just gotten through scolding Abbey for doing the very same thing."
"Speaking of Abbey," Tony turned to face her. "May I borrow you for a moment?"
"Sure."
"Excuse us, will you?" Tony asked the Prime Minister.
"Certainly. Nice speaking with you, Abbey."
"Likewise!"
Tony took Abbey's arm and lead her away from the Prime Minister of England.
"You told me no one important was going to be here!" Abbey whispered to him.
"Oh, he's not important."
"He's the Prime Minister!"
"That's just his title. Really, he's just a janitor working in Parliament."
Abbey laughed.
"That doesn't make me feel better. But thanks."
"Oh, come now, Abbey. I know Blair's a friend of yours. You shouldn't have had to impress him."
"It all goes back to foreign affairs, Tony. You know that just as well I do."
"Just this one night, I'd like to have us not worry about politics."
"Easier said than done," Abbey replied.
"Come on outside with me a second. I have something I want to talk to you about."
Washington, D.C.
Elizabeth Bartlet Westin moved quickly through the halls of the West Wing on her way to the Oval Office. She stopped in front of Debbie Fiderer's desk and waited to be notice.
"Uh…Debbie?"
Debbie glanced up, startled.
"Oh, Liz. I'm sorry."
"It's fine. Is my dad in?"
"No, he's in the Residence over lunch."
"Is he alone?"
"I believe so. Normally, he'd take this time to have lunch with…"
"My mother, I know."
Debbie nodded, sadly.
"Lately he's taken to eating his lunch alone in the Residence and requests for no interruptions."
"He does?"
"Mm-hmm. And he's never in a good mood when he returns."
"Great."
London, England
Zoey Bartlet and Oliver Prescott strolled around the courtyard in silence, as the party carried on inside. They walked to the far side of the terrace and stopped in front of the glowing fountains.
"I should have known you were Tony's son," Zoey was saying. "You look just like him."
Oliver grinned.
"Oh, do I? Is that compliment, Miss Bartlet?"
"Your father's a handsome man," Zoey replied, coyly
"Ah. It's an inadvertant compliment. My favorite kind."
"You know, you really do look a lot like your father."
"And you look a lot like your mother," Oliver said.
Zoey laughed.
"Everyone knows I look like my dad."
"Well, I can certainly see him in you…but I think you've got more of your mother in you."
Zoey smirked.
"Is that compliment, Mr. Prescott?"
"Your mother's a beautiful woman."
"Well, aren't you every bit my equal," Zoey commented.
"Battle of Wits, anyone?"
"I'd cream you."
"Oh, I think I could give you quite a run for your money."
"We'll see about that."
Washington, D.C.
Elizabeth quietly walked through the Residence, in search of her elusive father. She soon found him in then kitchen, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, all alone. Her heart immediately went out to him.
"Dad?" She called out, quietly.
Jed looked up, a bit startled. A warm smile crept over his face when he saw his daughter standing awkwardly in the doorway.
"Hey, Lizzlebit."
Liz laughed and rolled her eyes.
"Don't call me that," She said, walking toward him.
Jed gazed back down at his sandwich.
"Did you want to talk to me, honey?"
"Yeah. Um, the kids and I are leaving soon. I just wanted to say goodbye."
Jed stood and approached her.
"I'm glad you came, Liz."
He pulled her into a tight, lingering hug.
"Me too, Dad."
When they finally broke apart, Liz's eyes dropped to the floor. Jed eyed her suspiciously.
"Is there something else, Elizabeth?"
"No," Liz answered, her eyes meeting his. "Good luck tomorrow. That's all."
"Do you think I'll need it?"
"You're traveling across the globe to win your wife back. God only knows if you'll need it."
"Thanks for that boost of confidence, Liz," Jed replied, with a slight laugh
Liz shrugged.
"I'm here to help." She paused for a beat. "Well, I'm gonna go say goodbye to Amy."
"Mallory's around here somewhere too, ya know. She was visiting with Leo the last time I checked. But by now, she's probably bugging Amy."
"That sounds like Mal. Anyway. I'll call you when I get back to New Hampshire."
"Ok. Bye, hon. I love you."
"Love you too, Dad."
London, England
Tony Prescott had swiftly guided Abbey away from the party. He brought her outside into the courtyard, just moments after Oliver had taken Zoey back inside the building. Abbey was all smiles, after having her glass of champagne refilled for the third time. But Tony was nothing if not serious.
"So. What did you want to talk to me about?"
The end of her question was slurred by a high-pitched hiccup. She giggled and covered her mouth with her hand. Tony couldn't help but laugh at her.
"I think you've had enough bubbly for one evening, Abbey," Tony said, taking her glass from her and placing it on top of the brick partition that separated that terrace and the courtyard.
"You're no fun," Abbey complained.
"I know you know what I want to say to you."
"No…honestly, I have no idea."
"What are your plans, Abbey? You're married to the President of the United States, yet you're here toying with me. I don't know what to think."
"I…I don't…"
"When are you going back to Washington?"
Abbey shook her head immediately, as if trying to knock the thought out of her brain.
"Not anytime soon!"
"What does this mean? I don't know what this means. Tell me."
"Tony, I don't know. You know I have no plans. I just…I'm sorry, I have no answers for you. I wish I could give them to you."
"How can I help you?" Tony asked. "How can I help you make up your mind?"
When she didn't reply, Tony decided to take matters into his own hands. Slowly, cautiously, he leaned in. Her eyes widened with fear and anticipation when she realized what he was about to do. She closed her eyes, held her breath, and then…
They were both thrown off-guard by a few stunning bright lights flashing upon then and the sound of cameras clicking away. They both looked in the directions of the cameras, to find two members of the paparazzi standing before them. Without a word, the two photographers fled the scene, leaving the First Lady of the United States and a man knighted by the Queen of England absolutely astonished.