I did not create, nor do I own the rights to, the characters portrayed in this story. The story itself, however, is all my own.
What's Next? A Tale from the Seaborn Administration
Prologue:
President Sam Seaborn. Mr. President. He liked the sound of that.
Sam stepped back to admire himself, tuxedo and all, in the mirror of his latest hotel room on his grand tour of America - the campaign trail. Behind him, Mrs. Seaborn, as she was beginning to get sick of being known, was fast asleep in the room's four-poster bed, the gruelling hours of a presidential campaign had finally caught up with her.
Enough with the narcissism thought Sam as he stepped to one side and pulled back the thick curtains ever so slightly, enough to flood the room with the artificial lights of New York City, enough light to cause Mrs. Seaborn to stir.
"Sam?" She rolls over to face her husband; he quickly covers the window and looks back at her like a guilty child. "Can you not behave yourself for just five minutes?"
"There's been no evidence of it so far"
She smiles at her husband's irresistible dry wit.
"What time is it?"
"It's 6.45"
"You should've woken me"
"And risk your wrath? I don't think so"
"Sam…"
"Seriously Mallory, you needed your sleep."
It was stuff like that Mallory had married Sam for, his unending thoughtfulness - but she would never tell him, giving him a hard time was just too much fun.
Pushing back the heavy sheets and blankets, Mallory forces herself out of bed. She was practically fully clothed under the covers and emerged wearing a maroon ladies suite of which Sam was afraid to ask the price. She'd have to change, of course. She couldn't be seen in the same outfit twice in one day!
The couple were preparing for an evening being wined and dined by the New York elite as part of Josh's final push before the election, now only two weeks away. As Mal disappeared into the en suite bathroom, Sam sat himself on the bed and quietly reflected on the campaign and the potential in things to come.
It seemed like only yesterday that Josh had called by his office on capitol hill and pitched the idea of running for the big one - the White House - could it really have been eighteen months ago?
He was pleased that it'd been Josh though, and he was pleased that it was Josh who'd been by his side through the whole thing. They were old friends. Their relationship was best known to the world at large as senior figures in the Bartlet administration, although they went back much further than that, if Sam recalled correctly it was Josh who'd got him into that race for the White House too…
Sam had spent over four years as the deputy communications director for President Bartlet, before leaving to pursue a political career of his own, a career that, although it'd got off to a shaky start, had eventually led him to this room, this night. His journey had taken him through the House of Representatives and later the Senate, within the next fifteen days Sam would know whether or not this was the end of the road, or the beginning of a whole new adventure.
The forecast wasn't great. Since Bartlet's second term expired, the West Wing had been plagued with two poor Democrats, two popular Republicans and a third Republican from Iowa who was distinctly unremarkable - it was the unremarkable one that Sam was facing in this election, whether that was good or bad was yet to be made clear, but Josh was optimistic.
"You're middle of the road, he's all over the road, he's unpredictable and no matter how hard he tries he still manages to drive a wedge between the Republicans in Congress and the White House. I'm gonna win this thing! Or, so help me…"
Polling data showed all the key places as too close to call but California would almost certainly swing Sam's way, and they were looking good in Florida and Arkansas as well as across New England. Almost everywhere else was still in play - hence the wining and the dining of the New York elite.
The phone goes. Sam leaps up to get it, forgetting for a second that he isn't the spry senior staffer he used to be, that got him thinking: when was the last time he went to a gym? He didn't want to think about it. He answers the phone.
"Sam Seaborn"
"Just say 'hello', would you, people know who they're calling if they're calling you, telling them your name makes you look, I dunno, less Presidential, I guess"
"Josh?"
"I'm serious, Sam!"
"I never for a moment assumed that you weren't, what can I do for you?"
"You can get you ass down to this party for a start! We've got some serious people who need some serious attention otherwise they're going to throw their support elsewhere."
"Where?"
"Just get your ass down here!"
"Mallory's getting ready."
"Good for her."
"It's been a long few months, I thought she could do with resting a little, I didn't think we were in any kind of a hurry so…"
"You are in a hurry!"
"They're not going anywhere, Josh!"
The tensions between these two were starting to show. Six months of campaigning for the primaries, six months before that of preparation: carefully timed speeches, photo ops and other press events and another six months after the primaries of constant campaigning. It took its toll - their friendship had been through worse though, Sam was optimistic of a quick recovery.
"Just get down here soon."
"Yeah"
With that, Sam hangs up the phone; pleasantries were not common in modern-day politics.
Mal emerges from the bathroom behind him. She already changed, she's getting used to quick changes as the wife of a candidate.
"That was Josh?"
"Yeah"
"You should be nicer to him"
"That doesn't sound like something that's going to happen anytime soon though, does it?"
All of a sudden, Sam really notices Mallory. She's wearing the most stunning ball gown, she looks damn good!
"Wow!" Is about all Sam can utter, causing a smile to creep onto Mallory's lips, it pleased her that she still got that response after 19 years of marriage.
Mal touches up her makeup, puts her hair up and she's ready to go. Sam tightens his bowtie (not so much because it needs tightening, more because it makes him look good!). They head out to the party…
Donnatella Moss-Lyman was once assistant to Josh Lyman and is now media consultant to the Seaborn-McCoy campaign and wife to Josh Lyman, she stands on the outer rim of the fundraiser, smiling at the guests and ensuring that everything goes according to the carefully laid out plan that she herself devised.
As she watches the guests come and go, faces from her political past leap out of the crowd at her: Joey Bauer (formerly Joey Lucas), Claudia-Jean Cregg (who chose not to use her married name), Senator Elizabeth Bartlett-Westen (who represented her father at the party now that his various ailments practically confined him to his home), Liz's sister Zoey Young was about somewhere too and Donna was pretty sure, although not certain, that she'd caught a glimpse of former White House communications director Toby Ziegler, who'd practically been in hiding since Bartlet left the West Wing and wasn't prone to attending party fundraisers no matter who the guest of honour might be.
"Watcha doing?"
The voice of her husband practically forces Donna to jump out of her skin!
"You shouldn't creep up on people like that, Josh, it isn't nice - also, I'm a woman in my advanced years, you could bring on a stroke or something."
"I wouldn't want that…whatcha doing?"
"Just watching…where's Sam?"
"That's what I'd like to know. He said he was letting Mal get some rest, I don't know if that was a euphemism or something."
"Josh…"
"What?"
"You work him too hard"
"It'll be worth it…seen anyone interesting?"
"Actually, Roberts is here with another one."
"Blonde?"
"And with legs as long as the Washington monument"
"I wonder how much you have to pay for that?" Donna shoots her husband a glance forcing him to retract his previous comment, then, she moves the conversation along.
"Also, I think I saw Toby."
"Toby who?"
"Toby Toby…"
"Toby Toby? Is that some sort of code?"
"Ziegler!"
"No…really?...No. Toby doesn't do these things, I spoke to Huck on Friday, he said that Molly'll probably come with her billionaire boyfriend but that he was having trouble getting his dad to even leave the house."
"Well…"
"Yeah…did you speak to CJ?"
"Not so much, how is she?"
"She's really good, working for some charity or other raising money for a good cause and trying her hardest to enjoy being married to a newspaper editor."
"I know all that, I read her book."
"Then why'd you ask?"
"Just making conversation"
"OK"
"Josh?"
"Donna"
Donna turns and looks her husband in the eye. She wants to ask a question that's been bugging her for some time but now she's not so sure. What the hell, she thinks:
"Can we win this election?"
"Yes" Josh's answer was much shorter and sharper than Donna had expected.
"There's so much that's too close to call…"
"Donna, nothing is certain but this I know: the country is swinging away from the conservative tendencies that've been plaguing politics for too long. We're standing here fundraising for the standard bearer of a new movement, a new kind of politics and there are people on this campaign who've been there and done it before and I know for sure that we can do it again, we're closer than ever! It's been 12 years since a Democrat has even been competitive in a general election and we're too close to call - our time is coming, Donna, it's too close to call but I don't intend to lose. How about you?"
"Absolutely not"
"OK, let's get this thing started…"
In the background, the music dies away and an announcer steps forward:
"Ladies and Gentlemen: California Senator and the next President of the United States: Samuel S. Seaborn!"
Sam enters the ballroom with Mallory on his arm, Josh turns to Donna:
"You bet your ass that's the next President, now get down into the party, there's work to be done, an election to be won, let's do it!"
With that, Josh takes his wife's hand and leads her into the party. They dance a while and talk to the guests, the night is a great success and fifteen days later, a Democrat from California called Sam Seaborn was elected to the White House.