Notes: Sorry about my other stories, I'm still dealing with a serious medical issue requiring invasive surgery for my husband, and profoundly bad depression. Thankfully this story is more low stakes than my other works and was already in progress, it's pretty affirming to work on something beloved but inconsequential, basically.

Captivate Your Audience

Five minutes earlier…

CJ wasn't thrilled about Leo's choice to give the speech to the President, and Toby didn't blame her. It wasn't a good look to leave your Press Secretary out of the loop at all, much less twice in so short a time. He made the appropriate noises and tried to look contrite but was surprised to see her completely relax once she'd gotten her rant out of the way, finally able to appreciate the win.

"Was it a good speech? I didn't get to hear any of it, just that it happened."

Toby smiled guardedly. "Yes."

CJ looked at him for a long moment, then threw a pen down in disgust and pointed at him. "You're going to steal her!"

The accusation struck harder than it ought to, even if he ignored everything except work-related concerns. Toby knew better than to let his expression change, though. "Of course not?"

"Get out of my office!"

"Or what? You'll steal my demeanor?" he joked.

Her response was to glare at him and open her office door, silently pointing for him to leave.

"You'd look terrible in a goatee," Toby shot off as he left. CJ huffed, but before she could retort, her phone rang. On his way back to his office, he saw a flash of teal and saw Addy leaving the press room. She swung around to say something to someone behind her, and on a whim, he stepped closer to listen.

It was worth it.

"That's the most friendly crock of crap I've ever heard. You have a gift, Mr. Concannon."

Danny was facing Toby, and after seeing him, the reporter backed off. Addy caught on and turned her head. There was something dangerous about the way she didn't immediately apologize for violating the edict on speaking to the press. Instead, she sighed.

"I thought I told you not to talk to anyone?" he pointed out.

"He's fishing. I snapped the line."

Toby was disgusted by the way he could actually feel himself liking her more with every clever comment. "What does he want?"

Addy looked like she was about to say something, but thought better of it. "Everyone's a master angler around here today! Go bait the big fish. You told me not to talk!"

With that, she stalked away from both of them.

"Are you going to let her get away with that?" Danny asked. The question was too perceptive for Toby's blood pressure.

"Yep," he said flatly, and got out of there.

Twenty minutes later, his blood pressure was finally returning to some semblance of normal when there was a knock on his office door. It was Addy. She didn't say anything, just stepped inside, handed him a piece of paper, and stood with her hands twisting nervously in front of her. The note was from CJ.

You break it, you bought it.

Toby held up the note. "What's this supposed to mean?"

"I don't know what it says, but Ms. Cregg told me to give it to you and, I quote, 'Find a reason to stay 100 feet away from the press room.'"

"This is still at least 30 feet short," he said, and Addy gave him a helpless look. "Well, sit down, I guess. Why didn't she just send you home?"

"I assume that would make me chum for Concannon," she frowned. At his impatient gesture to sit down, Addy stared at the couch for a while and then settled into his favorite spot. Toby willed himself not to care. "If it matters so much who writes a speech for the President, why on Earth would McGarry give it to me?"

"It doesn't."

Toby turned his chair to face her, regretting the action instantly. The skirt she was wearing had slid up and her garter was visible. Addy Blair wore garters.

He could clearly see the plain edge of the hose and the ribboned clip that disappeared farther up and out of sight. There is no way he could say anything about it, nor would he ever forget what he had seen. In self defense, Toby leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling.

"Danny's a good reporter. He might think there's a process story about the West Wing, speech staff struggling, trying to mix it up with new blood, that kind of thing. Or, he's going for the actual story."

"That it was a planned speech," she said. "He seemed pretty confident."

"Most of them do. It's easier to give someone information if you think they already know everything, and you're just confirming facts already in evidence."

"It's starting to get frustrating, the way everyone thinks I couldn't possibly know that. I promise, I didn't tumble out of a turnip cart and into the White House!" Toby looked over, and as soon as they made eye contact, Addy looked contrite. "I'm sorry. Give me something to do, please? Even if it's stupid?"

"You think the White House Communications Director has a stack of stupid tasks waiting for bored chum?" he asked her in his grouchiest voice.

"If they're you? Yes, I do," she said, lifting her chin. They looked at each other for a long few seconds before she tipped her head to the side and asked, "What's this really about?"

She didn't seem afraid of him at all anymore. Was it a front to keep up her courage or was it genuine?

Toby opened a drawer, sifted past a few tabs, and pulled out one of the empty college-ruled notebooks he kept on hand. He tossed it at her and started looking for a pen, but she waved him off and dug one out of the inside pocket of her blazer. The way Addy prepped the notebook and positioned it told him she expected him to dictate something to her. The moment was somewhat of a turning point for Toby.

He could cut her down, mock her for presuming the White House Communications Director would pick this time and place to dictate something to someone on her level. He could chastise her (gently, but still keeping that separation) for taking up his time at all, despite CJ's note. Or, he could take the gift that the fates were offering (Toby carefully drew down the bodega gate on a full half of the options that phrasing made him think of) and bring her in.

They hadn't flipped Congress, and with the last great election in Bartlet's career looming in just two years, there was a lot of work to do. The Hatch Act didn't have many teeth, but even so, every department was going to need to split up the work to avoid breaking the law. They needed more speechwriters, and Addy Blair had the right combination of talent and malleability.

The real question was: could he mentor someone he had feelings for?

"Damn," Toby muttered, realizing what he'd just admitted to himself.

"Look, I can find a seat next to Ms. Moss-" Addy said, closing the notebook and sliding her pen back into its pocket as she stood up and turned toward the door.

"If I were an unscrupulous asshole, I could be four hundred dollars richer today," Toby told her, referring to her use of Leo's first name earlier. "There's no reason not to call her Donna."

"Oh, my God," Addy said in a small voice. "You're right." She slowly turned to face him, and then furrowed her brows. "Wait, you didn't?"

"No, of course I didn't!" he half shouted, defensive. He'd just accused her of losing him money while at the same time feeling hurt that Addy would expect him to betray her confidence like that. Her dark brown eyes were wide and dismayed, making Toby feel like exactly the jerk she seemed to assume he was. "I wouldn't."

"Danny Concannon already offered to split the money if I would say his name in public first. I told him it was crass to pick himself, and I'm not that kind of girl."

Toby laughed. Switching tacks, he said, "What's the filename for the President's version of the speech?"

"Agrigentum," she said. "It was McGarry's idea." Her expression was amused, and he felt an actual jolt of jealousy that she and Leo were in on a joke he didn't get. "It's an ancient battle," she explained. "I recognized the name, but had to look up the details. Start of the Punic wars. Rome won, but after a long, long siege."

They shared a look at the implications of that.

"How about this," Toby said impulsively. "Write a position paper for me. Pick something you think I'd never support, and try to persuade me to support it." His ears burned red, but the lighting in his office was dim and she wouldn't know the difference. "It'll be good practice for oppo work before the State of the Union."

"You think I can only write well if I'm… if I care about the recipient?" Addy asked in a low voice that split the difference between sounding hurt and sultry. It was disconcerting as hell, and the worst part was he kind of liked it. Toby was immediately worried he'd made the impulsive suggestion so she could learn more about him. He hadn't, of course- it might even be the opposite. He needed to know how her mind worked, especially when it came to attacks on the things she'd be writing in defense of. That was one of the things Toby liked most about Sam's work.

The very thought of making immoral choices about her knocked him off balance. As always, he felt driven to be outrageous, to push the person away lest they got too close. Classic Toby, Andie would have said. He was still wearing her ring. Taking it off would qualify as an admission.

"It's not like you're in love with the President!" he finally said, sounding more sheepish than outraged.

Addy regarded him with shock that quickly shifted to trepidation when a knock sounded at the door.

"Yes?"

It was CJ. She explained that Leo was back and they should all be on the same page before speaking to him. Though McGarry's decision was more about making the President look good, that was still tangentially about Ann Stark, so he sought to reassure CJ without connecting those dots for his visitor. Addy was smart enough to pick up on her boss's undercurrent of insecurity, and he didn't need her poking around in the guts of the senior staff, not when she was poking around in his emotional guts at the same time.

88888888

By Monday, the fallout from the President's speech had let up, and Addy had more time to think about the assignment Ziegler had given her. It boded extremely well that he was thinking about the State of the Union, because it wasn't as if the demands of White House speechwriting let up during that time, despite the frenzy of work that needed to be done on that most important speech of the year. If she could show consistent competence, there was a good chance she'd get the kind of work she could really sink her teeth into. Was that what CJ's note had meant? If so, that was both encouraging and intimidating.

If she was honest, Toby Zeigler fascinated her, both professionally and in ways she wasn't sure she wanted to examine all that closely. He was surly and brilliant, with an enigmatic mind that she had been able to knock off balance more than once in their short acquaintance. She wanted to do it again, to earn that look of professional interest he'd shot at her during those moments. With that thought in mind, she couldn't believe she'd had the audacity to joke about actual feelings the way she had, even if it was in context to the secret that he knew about hers for Leo. He'd handled it well, and she wanted to do the same by delivering him a high quality product that earned his respect.

Sam would probably know where she could find some of Ziegler's opinion work, but that was a sticky situation on its own, one she didn't feel equal to attempting yet. She had respect for both of their skill and craftsmanship, and the last thing she wanted to do was give someone like Sam Seaborn the idea that she was gunning for his job.

She wasn't… she'd settle for a pale imitation of it, honestly, which was more than she ever thought she'd get a chance for.

Addy had a few leads on a subject by Wednesday, when CJ called her to her office. As she walked up, she could hear Ziegler's voice, and she reached up to run her fingertips across her braid for reassurance as she stepped into the doorway.

"All right, we're having a turf war, and I'm going to need you to pick which one of us you'd rather work for," CJ told her with a completely straight face.

Addy would bet the reported first name pool total of four hundred and sixty dollars that her boss was kidding, so with an internal gulp of nervousness, she turned right back around and started out of the door. CJ's laughter told her that she'd guessed right.

"Come back, that was the perfect answer," she called out. Once Addy had come back inside, CJ explained that they were transitioning her away from the catch-all position she had been hired for into one with more writing. Since it had a higher metric for her salary, she'd need to fill out some forms, some of which weren't where they ought to be. CJ stepped out, leaving Ziegler and Addy in her office.

"There has to be something more important than playing shepherd going on," Addy said after the fourth time Ziegler took a signed form from her right away to closely examine it.

"Your names don't all match," he said, as if that explained everything.

"I'm sorry?"

"Your FBI file has you listed as 'Addison.'"

She flushed. As much as she wanted to prevaricate, this was the White House. It was a wonder this issue hadn't come up before. "My father forgot my name when he filled out some of the paperwork in the hospital. They didn't file for my social security card until I was six-"

"Which your mother did, or had he… figured it out by then?" Ziegler interrupted with a bit of a cheeky smile.

Addy decided to ignore that. "Anyway, that's why they don't match. My records are all screwed up, honestly. Dad passed away when I was a teenager, and they almost didn't let me graduate high school. They couldn't decide which name to put on my diploma." She finished the last form, and Ziegler took it, too. He made a big show of frowning at the place she'd just signed her full (correct) name.

"You have a high school diploma, I checked. So, what happened?"

"We tried to get my name changed, but there was litigation because of the accident that killed my dad, and the death certificate was delayed by almost two years. In the end, they used 'Addy' instead of a longer name, and all of my classmates were jealous. Especially Theophus. For thirteen years we thought 'Theo' was short for Theodore until Mrs. Banchley announced his full name from the podium."

"So, what you're saying is, you have multiple aliases, and I've just finalized your employment in the White House?" Toby's voice turned more testy with each word.

"Basically," Addy said, smiling up at him with as much charm as she could muster. He almost smiled back, but looked away, scratching the top of his head. She'd started to recognize that habit of his as some kind of a nervous tic, something he only did when he was uncomfortable.

Toby Ziegler was often uncomfortable, it seemed. Most great men were.

"So which one is your real name? The one on your birth certificate?"

"The, uh, shorter one," Addy said, standing up. "I forgot to ask, am I being moved somewhere else? The desk, I mean?"

"You think you get to keep the desk?" Ziegler asked. His outrage was completely convincing, and Addy experienced a long moment of almost terror at her presumption before the stern expression on his face yielded. Then, as if it had taken this long for some of what she'd said earlier to sink in, he said, "Wait, did your parents just call you by your nickname from the beginning?"

She nodded. "My mother was kind of a romantic. She loved the idea that someday, my future spouse would realize that they were in love with me, and my name would have more significant meaning to them."

Ziegler mouthed the name, dawning comprehension lighting his expression. "You always go by Addy, though, right?"

"Yes, I do. If it's all right, I'd like to avoid spreading around what my first landlord liked to call 'my birth name.'"

As often seemed to happen when Addy said something outrageous, the Deputy Chief of Staff walked into the room without any warning.

"There you are, Toby! Look, I've got Congressman Walters yapping in my ear and I'm pretty sure I'd rather hack it off than listen to him beg for consideration on this-" He stopped for a breath and then looked over at Addy. "Did you say 'birth name?'"

Addy knew from Donna's stories at lunch that Lyman was relentless, but she had no idea how to derail him except to conjure up a time machine and change her own phrasing. For a long second, she tried to will such a device into existence.

"Her father forgot what they named her by the time they got Miss Blair a social security number," Ziegler said, as though leaping to her defense. It was disconcerting and unexpectedly kind, but it didn't work. Lyman looked at Addy with barely disguised curiosity, and her heart sank. There was no way he wouldn't ask his assistant about it, given Addy's friendship with Donna, and once Donna got ahold of the whole 'birth name' thing…

Ziegler interrupted her fear spiral by holding up the stack of forms and saying, "I'll have someone email you with the new desk assignment as soon as these go through."

88888888

As expected, by lunch the next day, Donna was fully in investigative mode.

"Is it Adelaide?" Donna asked, as she sat down.

Even though Addy knew this was coming, she wasn't prepared for the incisive gleam in her friend's eyes. "No," she groaned, both as an answer to the question and as a plea to the universe at large.

"Don't worry, I won't make it a pool, or anything. I just want to know!" Donna protested. "Well, okay, I told everyone to guess but they all know not to look it up 'cause that's cheating. So is it a classic, pretty kind of name? Or one of those 'handsome' names that aren't all that nice but they're not lyrical, know what I mean?"

"Speaking of handsome, I think it's a travesty that the government doesn't designate more unmarried ambassadors," Margaret said as she sat down across from Donna and Addy. "It's honestly shameful."

"Don't ambassadors have the kind of immunity that means they can basically do anything they want in their host country and get away with it?" Addy asked. The President would be appointing various ambassadors all day, and the whole building was agog. "I'd think appointing a married person to a post with that kind of power is almost a necessity."

"I've heard of at least one unmarried one," Donna said archly. Addy was very grateful that Margaret had redirected the conversation away from names. To her surprise, though, Margaret groaned.

"I've heard, and so has Leo. Lord John calls him Gerald, did you know that?"

"Oh wow, that must make him crazy!" Addy said, stifling a laugh and looking down at her plate. When she looked up, both women were looking at her like she'd said something strange. "What?"

"I didn't think you knew him all that well," Margaret said. Her demeanor was a bit stiff, as though Addy had invaded her territory.

"Did I ever tell you I interned at the Labor department when he was the secretary?" Addy asked, hoping that would help. "I don't know, maybe I'm a politics geek-"

"You are," Donna interrupted helpfully.

"-but don't we all have some politicians we just… keep tabs on, that we like? He's one of mine," Addy admitted, hoping she didn't look too lovesick.

"I could do that for Lord John Marbury," Donna said. She did look too lovesick.

The three of them talked about Marbury for the rest of their short lunch without changing the subject, leaving Addy to think she'd gotten away cleanly- but Margaret stopped her on their way out.

"Is it 'Adventurina?' I could understand keeping that one quiet," she queried.

"Never change, my friend," Addy said warmly without answering her.