Her nerves were getting the better of her as she entered the James S. Brady Press Briefing Room for the first time. She had seen it plenty of times before, but that was only on television. This room held so much history, so much prestige, she almost felt unworthy of being in it. Actually, she did feel unworthy of being there. Who was she to deserve this job, to have that kind of responsibility? Four years ago she was just an intern for the New York Times, and now she was a member of the White House Press Corps. How the hell did I even get here? she thought. But she could dwell on that later, because she was late. The Metro had been running behind schedule that morning, which according to her colleagues from the Times wasn't something out of the ordinary. Looking around somewhat frantically, she saw her immediate boss from the paper, Paul, with his graying hair, thick, round glasses, and brightly colored bowtie. Making a beeline down the aisle to her assigned seat, she heard a voice bellow.

"Excuse me," they said. "Didn't you read the sign? It says 'No tours beyond this point'." What on Earth was he talking about? "You." He pointed directly at her, and she felt her face growing hot. The voice belonged to none other than the Deputy Chief of Staff, Joshua Lyman. Leave it to her to get singled out by one of the Senior Staff within five minutes of her arrival. "I'm sure you can't wait to tell your friends at school about how you pulled this off… I'm surprised no one from the security detail has followed you. Enjoy your eighth grade class trip."

Oh, God. He thought she was some dumb teenager who snuck her way into the briefing room. "I-I'm not a student," she explained. "I'm Sara Byrne, I write for the New York Times. My press credentials are right here." She flashed her brand new ID as she sat down with her colleagues.

"That was some entrance you just made," Shelley, another one of the writers said, chuckling. "You look spooked."

"I feel like I'm back in school," she said, smoothing out her skirt. "And I just got called out by one of the teachers."

"Josh Lyman can be kind of an ass," Paul told her. "It's just the way he is, don't pay any attention." She took a pad and pen out of her bag as CJ Cregg stepped up to the podium to begin that morning's briefing.

"Good morning everyone," she greeted the room. Propping her reading glasses on her nose, she began to read. "Firstly, I'm going to clear up some rumors that have been floating around since last night. Troops in India in fact invaded the northern region of Kashmir in Pakistan. This invasion breaks the cease-fire that was implemented in 1986." There was a chorus of "CJ!" And "Over here!" She pointed to a reporter from The Washington Post as Sara began furiously taking notes. "John."

"Is it true that this is not just some small vigilante movement? There have been reports of 300,000 soldiers."

She sighed. "Yes, over 300,000 Indian soldiers crossed the border into Pakistan."

"And the no one in Washington knew anything about it leading up to last night's events?"

"That is correct," she said. The chorus began again and she looked at the crowd over her glasses. "Peggy."

"What is the president planning to do in regards to the conflict?" The woman asked.

"I haven't been informed of anything as of yet," she replied. "I will let all of you know as soon as possible." She shuffled through her papers. "The rover that was being sent to Mars several months ago, Galileo III, burnt up upon entering Mars' atmosphere. The report from NASA says that the materials that were used on the outside of the rover were 'incompatible with the Martian environment'." The room grew loud again. "Brian."

"Do you know anything about their plan of action for the rover?" A reporter from the Boston Globe asked.

"They are going to do some tests on the materials used and see exactly how they burnt up, and then probably start doing tests on other materials to see how they would react to the make-up of the atmosphere. Once they find something that works, they'll use it." She looked over her papers again. "The First Lady is going to be a 'surprise reader' for a second grade class at Lafayette Elementary School today. This is in part to get some publicity for the country's new reading program. Also… the president would like to remind everyone that Notre Dame is playing Ohio State in football on Saturday." She took off her glasses. "That's all she wrote, folks. I'll have more on the India/Pakistan situation later this afternoon."

Sara spent most of the morning reviewing her notes from the press briefing and trying to come up with something that could make a good story. The India/Pakistan conflict and the Galileo III rover were too ambitious for her first Washington write-up, so she began doing some research on Lafayette Elementary School and the new nationwide reading program, Reading 2000. It was safe, but it was something that readers would be interested in, because after all, the country wanted to know every move the president or the First Lady made, especially in DC. She was so focused on the task at hand that she barely noticed her stomach growling. Checking her watch, she realized it was already 1 o'clock and figured it was probably time for some lunch. She left her small office and saw Laura, the Press Corps Secretary, walking down the hallway.

"Hi, you're Sara, right?" She asked.

"Yeah, I am," she replied. "I was just going to go get some lunch, but I remembered I don't know where anything is."

"I was just about to go down to the mess," Laura said. "You can come with me if you want. I'll give you a little tour of the West Wing."

"Thanks," she said as she adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder.

"I heard about what happened during the press briefing," she said quietly. "I think everyone has… that's so embarrassing!" Sara laughed dryly. "But hey, Josh Lyman knows who you are now!" They continued to walk, past the offices for Reuters and NBC. "He is so cute."

"I'm sure he has no idea who I am," Sara said. "Or that he cares who I am, for that matter."

Laura shrugged. "This is where the Senior Staff's offices are." She pointed out the bullpen, Toby Ziegler's office, and Sam Seaborn's. "Sam's a bit of a nerd, but that's easy to get past because he's really hot." They walked towards the lobby and turned a corner, finally arriving at the mess. It was food court style, so Sara and Laura went their separate ways to get their food and then regrouped at an empty table.

"So you came from the New York Times?" Sara had a feeling that Laura was one of those people who was either always gossiping or pumping people for information.

"Yeah, I worked there an intern first and then I was on the staff as a reporter for three years before they asked me to come here," she told her as she took a bite of her sandwich.

"That's so cool," she said. "I have a journalism degree from Johns Hopkins, I've already been working here for a year. I haven't had any luck getting interviews with any of the papers or outlets here, which is ironic, because I'm around them all the time."

"Your time will come," Sara told her earnestly. "I worked hard to get where I am, but I also got really lucky. I worked my ass off to get into NYU, and to pay my way through school, my advisor recommended me that internship, I couldn't have gotten it on my own."

"You're gonna learn fast," Laura said, taking a bite of her salad. "The White House is a… difficult work environment. It's gonna take a lot more than hard work for you to be successful here."

Sara swallowed; Laura sounded bitter. "Oh, hi Donna." Sara looked up from her French fries to see a slim woman with long blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Hi Laura," the woman said. "How are you?"

"I'm good, just hanging in there until Friday, you know," she said cheerfully. She gestured over to Sara. "How rude of me. Sara, this is Donna Moss, Donna, this is Sara Byrne." The two women exchanged hellos. "Sara just started working with the Press Corps. Donna is Josh Lyman's assistant."

"You're the one he yelled at this morning?" Donna asked, a sympathetic look on her face.

Well if that isn't just wonderful, Sara thought ruefully.

"On his behalf, I am so sorry. Josh can be a total jackass."

"It's fine," she played it off. "I was bound to embarrass myself in front of the Senior Staff and my colleagues at some point, why not get it over with on my first day?" Laura and Donna laughed.

"It was nice talking to you, Laura, and it was nice to meet you, Sara," Donna said. "I have to get back to work." She walked out of the mess.

"I actually should get back to my office too," Sara told Laura. "I have some phone calls to make." She began to wrap up her sandwich.

"Sure," Laura said. "I'll see you later."

Sara left the mess and attempted to make her way back to the Press Corps offices without getting lost. She had already made a couple of wrong turns and had to backtrack by the time she got to the bullpen.

A few more feet and then I have to turn… left, she said to herself.

Suddenly, she bumped into something, or rather, someone.

"Sorry, didn't see you there," the person said, putting his hand on her back so she didn't fall backwards. A friendly smile crossed over his features. "I've never seen you around here before. Sam Seaborn."

So this was the nerdy guy Laura had told her about. The only thing nerdy about him were his glasses, but even with them he was still very good-looking.

"Sara, Sara Byrne," she introduced herself for the thousandth time that day. "I'm with the New York Times in the Press Corps."

"I hope you're not writing about the president's plans for the India/Pakistan conflict," he said with a frown. "But if you are, try not to throw him under the bus too much."

"I'm not," she told him. "I'll be sure to tell Tom Shepard that you said that, though." He smiled again.

"Thanks," he said. "See you around."

She made it back to her office without any other mishaps or transgressions, and began writing the first draft of the story about the First Lady.