The speech was fantastic. As he usually did with a first read, Toby zoomed through the copy, his red pen ready to make a mark for anything that impeded the breakneck flow he had going. By the time he was finished, he'd made precious few marks, an astonishing rate for a novice at this level.
If she'd given him two copies, he would have tossed the first one in complete disgust. He was convinced that the affection he'd been viewing her with had addled his ability to be objective. The problem was, he hadn't even told CJ about the assignment, and Sam would (probably completely justifiably) assume Toby had assigned it to Addy because he wanted to lighten Sam's load. There really wasn't any other logical reason he'd give a junior staffer of barely six weeks' tenure at the White House a speech of this caliber… and yet.
Toby reread it, slowly this time. He added his usual tick marks for critique; they were all minor things, subjective and pedantic things- and even then, there weren't many. Put simply, the speech was not the kind of work one would expect from a person in Addy's position.
He sighed. This was a complication he hadn't expected. Worse, he knew he should let her hand it to Leo, even though picturing her reaction to McGarry's approval brought up an unfamiliar surge of jealousy. Toby stood up and started pacing, one hand scratching his head. He'd done two circuits before he realized he was literally trying to outrace certain home truths.
He'd granted himself the luxury of a nuclear option: judging Addy Blair by her writing. In his certainty that she'd fall short of his exacting standards, Toby had built temporary scaffolding that was primed to topple once she delivered the speech. Hell, he'd even started his own version of the damned thing!
Instead, she had gone behind his back and expertly constructed a solid pedestal for him to place her on. Toby's gambit had failed. Spectacularly.
He picked up the pages, calling for Bonnie to go into the file and make the changes he indicated. Her impassive reaction told him she didn't suspect that there was anything special about the assignment, which was a relief.
Toby sat there and brooded on his whole predicament until he heard Bonnie's recognizable rap on his door. "Yeah?"
"Finished. Nice one," she said, setting the pages on his desk. Toby allowed himself to frown at her back before picking up his phone. At least he didn't have Addy Blair's extension memorized.
88888888
Addy had spent so much of her free time working on Leo's speech that she had breezed through her other tasks, all of which had felt simple in comparison. She was thinking ahead to what might be available for lunch when the phone rang.
"Blair here," she answered briskly.
"I assume you want to deliver this to Leo?"
"Really?" she said before she could self-censor for childlike enthusiasm.
"Come get it." Ziegler hung up.
I will not look in a mirror before I go to his office. It does NOT matter what I look like! she reminded herself sternly on the walk back to Ziegler's office. Thankfully, the door was open when she got there. When she paused in the doorway, she saw the reason. Josh Lyman was speaking at a rapid pace, his hand gesturing wildly. Ziegler sat reclined in his desk chair, his arms crossed. The rumpled, harried look he always carried was magnified, and it took her a few seconds to realize he must have rubbed a hand through his hair to achieve the effect.
She was just about to turn away to give them privacy when Ziegler looked up, saw her, and rolled his eyes in the direction of Lyman, who remained oblivious as he rattled off his complaints. Ziegler held up a thin folder, and Addy walked in quickly, grabbed it, and basically ran out.
As she power walked away, she heard Lyman say, "Wait, was that the new girl Donna's always with at lunch? Toby, you should have made her stay in here till she said my name! Could have made me some money!"
She knew where Margaret's desk was despite not knowing her last name. Addy did some deep breathing as she wove through the various corridors in between. There wasn't a visible name plate, but Addy wouldn't put it past her friend to hide it until the pool was resolved.
"Hey, Addy. Did you need a minute with him?"
"Wow, is it that easy?" Addy was surprised.
"No, but you've got a folder, and I know you're not a 'wasting my time' kind of gal."
Addy smiled. "I'm not, and yes, I do, if he has any to spare."
"I'll check. Just got off a call, so he might." She tapped the door and went in, and Addy clenched her free hand into a fist to stop herself from touching her hair self-consciously. "You're good to go in," Margaret said a minute later with an encouraging smile.
Leo got up when she walked in. He had his 'schmoozing' face on, the one he used with allies, not adversaries. She admonished herself inwardly for even knowing the difference.
"Ms. Blair, come in. Toby told me you helped him out with a speech! At least it's not as long as the book you had that one day, eh?" he said, ushering her to one of the chairs that faced his desk before settling back into his own. For some reason, Addy was glad he hadn't reached out to touch her arm or shake her hand. She was on edge enough as it was.
"It was an honor to be asked, sir," Addy said, handing the file folder over.
"You don't mind if I make you sit here while I read it, do you? If that makes you nervous, you should know there's a door in my office that the President likes to come through, without even knocking," he teased her, sliding his glasses down and opening to the first page of the speech. "Worry about that, not this."
Addy crossed her legs so tightly her right foot wrapped back around to tuck against her left calf. McGarry was the kind of person to notice that kind of body language, but he seemed to be completely engrossed in the speech. She watched as he turned sideways in his chair and leaned back to read, the pages held up in front of him.
Leo was smiling, lopsided and genuine, and Addy's heart did a pathetic little flip flop to see it. For some reason the image that popped up in response was Ziegler, frowning at her in disappointment.
Addy blinked that image away.
"This-" Leo started to say, before he stopped, caught up again. He laid the first sheet in his lap and read the next silently for a while before laying it on the first. He chuckled, telling Addy exactly where he was, meaning she also knew when he'd lay down the third page. A minute or so later, she was right.
Addy blushed. His reaction was more than she ever could have hoped for. She was overwhelmed to be sitting in his office watching him read something she'd lovingly crafted for him. Addy looked down at her hands in her lap, noticing that she'd clutched the silky fabric of her blouse so tightly in her fist that the threads were starting to separate against the assault of her thumbnail.
One of the already-read pages slid to the floor, but Leo didn't seem to notice. He was on the last page, beaming.
"That was fantastic. You sure you haven't worked as a full-time speechwriter before?" he asked, leaning over to pick up the fallen paper.
"Thank you, sir. I haven't. Most candidates have their favored writers; it's a hard field to break into."
"That's true," Leo nodded. He set the speech down on his desk and folded his hands on top, eyeing the pages for a long minute before looking up at her. Addy felt a spark of alarm at the apologetic look on his face.
"I want to ask you a favor, and I can tell by your face you think there's something wrong. There isn't, I promise," Leo told her, holding up a hand as if he could stop her emotions in their tracks with a single gesture. If she could choose anyone on the planet to have that power over her, it would be him. "This is an impulse, I'll admit," he said, tracing the edge of one of the stack with a fingertip. "I'm going to give this speech. It's a good one. But: I'd like you to take the file you made of this, and rewrite it as if the President were the one speaking instead. Could you do that for me?"
Addy looked across the desk at him, confused. "Sir?"
He pointed to one of the paragraphs on the first page. "You've got little references in here, not a lot, but it's- you wrote it for me . I'm curious to see what you would write for President Bartlett. I know it's extra work-"
"Yes," she interrupted, flushing as she realized what she'd done. He smiled and waved away her look of concern as if she hadn't been incredibly rude just feet away from the Oval Office.
"Can I keep this version? Just between us, all right? Copy over the file into a new one or whatever, so you can keep it out of Toby's hair. It's just for my benefit."
Sensing she was being dismissed, Addy stood up. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
"I've got a lot going on tomorrow, so just hand it off to Margaret when you're done, will you? Mark the file with your name, I'll know what it's for."
With that, Leo closed the file folder and put it in a drawer, and Addy left his office, both elated and confused. Leo didn't seem unhappy with her work, quite the contrary… but his instructions were confusing to the extreme. Write the speech again, but customized to President Bartlett?
For a terrifying split second, Addy wondered if he suspected her regard for him and wanted to reveal it when she was unable to write as well for anyone but him.
People were filtering in from lunch, and she took a second to cover her face with both hands and let out a long sigh. She'd been harboring feelings for Leo McGarry for so many years. It really would be great if right now, at the pinnacle of any and all interactions with him, she could start the journey of getting over the man.
Despite that thought, Addy fell asleep that night with the image of Leo's grin as he read the speech projected across the back of her mind as if tattooed there.
88888888
If Toby's brain had a billboard, there would be a list of people he hated pinned onto it. A long list. Today's addition was Ann Stark, the brand new Chief of Staff for the Senate Majority Leader. If the descriptor 'with mulish determination' was a life goal for Toby, it seemed to be one of hers too- and the fight over which of them most deserved the title was driving him crazy.
When things really went south, Toby would judge the week by how much his throat hurt, with an additional indicator based on his target. Yelling at his own staff was bad enough. Yelling at elected officials was worse. The top spot always went to those officials' staff, though; he detested the singular arrogance of a brand-new staffer with stars in their eyes about the national attention they were going to garner their boss. At least the more seasoned staffers knew better than to piss off the White House Communications Director.
Ann Stark did not.
Toby was ranting at Josh on his way to CJ's office when he nearly walked straight into Addy. Instead of brushing past her like he should have ( people are going to notice, what are you DOING? he admonished himself), he stopped and took a deep breath. CJ wouldn't appreciate it if he showed up screaming anyway, so if he had to be derailed, at least it wasn't someone that would ramp his anger up even further.
Addy stood waiting for him to say something, and when he didn't, she dipped a hand into her skirt pocket. With a tentative smile, she held the object out as if to drop it into his hand.
CJ's voice called out in a deeply frustrated tone for Carol, and Toby nodded a makeshift thanks to Addy and grabbed the object, too distracted by both work and not work to be able to identify it properly in the hallway. He stuffed it into his pocket and rushed toward CJ's office without allowing himself to look back.
The rest of the day was taken up in verbal wrestling with Ann Stark. His throat felt like it was peeled, thanks in no small part to the smoke from Sam and Josh's stunt of lighting an actual fire in the Mural room. By the time he'd put out all the fires of the day, metaphorical and otherwise, Toby just wanted a few minutes of peace in his office before he fought his way home to really relax. He closed the door and leaned against it, jamming his hands into his pockets, only to find the gift from Addy he'd completely forgotten about.
His traitorous heart leaped a little.
Toby decided he had to throw it away, no matter what it was. That was a necessary action, not just symbolically but as a function of valuing his job over whatever his stupid heart thought it was doing. He didn't allow himself to think of the negative possibilities any further than a few weighted words (fired, scandal, blacklist), because the positive possibilities (!, !, !) would be measured in an entirely different manner. Swiftly, he pulled the object from his pocket, poised to drop it into the garbage, but the crinkling noise it made had him too curious not to look.
It was a cough drop.
"Oh, for-"
He stopped himself from finishing the oath, not the least of which because it hurt to talk, at this point. In a fit of rebellion against his awful day, Toby unwrapped the lozenge and crammed it into his mouth. As her innocent offering soothed him in exactly the right way, he told himself that his two victories here were that a) he was never going to tell Addy how much it helped, and b) he didn't keep the wrapper.
Maybe he could follow her example and pine away in secret, keeping his feelings to himself while using them as a shield against further poor choices?
He doubted he would be that lucky.
88888888
The next day somehow managed to be worse.
None of the scheduled meetings could proceed in their original rooms, thanks to the repairs in the Mural Room. Josh and Sam alternated between defensive and sheepish, but at least they listened to Toby's admonitions, which was more than could be said for Ann Stark. By midmorning his throat hurt so badly he almost sent out an aide in search of cough drops. Sure, he could ask Addy for some, but he was steering clear of CJ if he could help it (she was furious about the compromise he gave Stark), and 'just dropping by for more of your cough drops' was transparent bullshit.
As it turned out, his instincts proved correct. Ann Stark took his generous offer of a joint press conference at her chosen location and spat on it, begging off because her candidate had a sore throat, of all things.
CJ handled things with the grace and professionalism he'd come to expect from her, relocating their half of the conference to the White House as she'd wanted to do all along. Ironically, if CJ had gotten her way in the first place, they would have lost leverage, so Toby felt magnanimous as he made his way toward the press room. The cameras wouldn't show him lurking in the back with a smug expression, but Ann Stark would know he was there, and that counted for a lot right now.
Before turning up the hallway to get into position, Toby paused, torn. He decided he would permit himself to glance into the room to see if Addy was at her desk, and if she wasn't, that was a sign he needed to just send out for cough drops already.
She wasn't there, but there was a jar at her desk he hadn't seen before. The change was enough to grant himself the indulgence of walking over to inspect it, and when he got there, Toby was glad he did, because it was full of cough drops.
He was just sticking his hand in the jar when a woman's voice spoke behind him.
"I'm going to have to charge you per item if you end up taking more than two."
He froze with his hand over the basket, looking over to see that Addy had her arms crossed, a stack of variously colored folders held to her chest. He let three drop back in.
"These are hot commodities on the Hill right now," he told her, closing his fist around his still-generous handful so she couldn't see how many he'd pilfered. Brazenly, he reached in again to pull a single one out, reading the name like a suspicious detective. "I haven't heard of this brand."
Addy's expression was guarded, even concerned, which he supposed was fair. After a long stare-off, she flopped her stack of folders down on the desk beside him and laid a hand on the back of her chair. His toes were in the way, and they both looked down at them.
"Joey Lucas clued me onto those. I'll tell her to add a few bags for you to the care package next week."
Toby gritted his teeth against his instinct to smile at her. "Good."
"Addy, have you got-" CJ strode in and stopped short when she saw Toby.
"Too busy in there," he lied to her. "You did good."
"Thank you." She nodded brusquely, and refocused on Addy. "You've got-"
"Right here." The two women headed back into CJ's office and Toby retraced his steps to the hallway, unwrapping a lozenge as he made his way to the back of the press room. His throat felt better, Addy Blair seemed appropriately cowed by his presence, and he'd gotten one over on his latest adversary. All was right with the world.
That mood slipped slightly when Leo caught Toby on his way home and pulled him into his office for a chat. To head off the lecture, he owned up.
"Before you say it, yeah: Stark almost got under my skin."
"Almost?" Leo's eyebrows took flight.
It was that kind of meeting. Toby settled into a chair as patiently as possible as Leo went over some salient points he happened to agree with. It wasn't hard to see Leo's predicament- people in their jobs used to get a break after the Midterms, but not anymore. Instead, they were facing a dilemma unique to their version of the West Wing, and to their boss in particular: getting the incumbent president to run for president again. It was going to be harder than getting him elected in the first place.
Leo didn't spell it out, but Toby wouldn't have his job if he were stupid. When they were finished going through it all, Leo tossed him a genuine grin.
"Say, good job finding the girl you put on tomorrow night's speech for me. It's good stuff."
Toby nodded, looking down. He didn't want to see anything in Leo's expression that his mind could pattern-recognize into something troublesome. This wasn't really about Addy, it was about the speech, he reminded himself, tucking a hand in his pocket.
The cough drops that brushed against his fingers called him a liar.
"Good night," Leo eventually said, and Toby got the hell out of there.