Chapter Seven
Thursday, February 5
". . . Fitzgerald, and Hoffman. That's five more votes on our side, but only if Winters votes our way."
Josh was on the edge of his seat in Leo's office, his head turning to meet the eyes of everyone in the room. The senior staff meeting had been going on for forty-five minutes, and so far Josh had spent the last forty of those minutes recounting the status of his ongoing feud with Hoynes over 286. With each passing moment, Sam was finding it more and more difficult to tune out his best friend's rants about the man he was slowly coming to see as his father.
". . . might have nabbed Porter and Aimes, but apparently Hoynes had been by to visit them yesterday and managed to get their votes," Josh continued. "Leo, something needs to be done! Hoynes is getting out of hand, stalling us at every turn!"
"You knew his position on 286 when you started this," Toby broke in. "You can't be surprised by his actions. It's not like he's doing this to screw you over. It isn't personal.
"Of course it's personal!" Josh argued. "Why else would he keep blocking us?" He turned to Sam, who straightened at the sudden attention. "Sam, you need to work on your uncle. We need him with us on this."
Sam frowned. "I already got him to consider 286, and got him the meeting he wanted with the president. What more do you think I can do?"
"I don't know; he's your uncle," Josh replied, his hands waving about. "Think of something!"
Sam shrugged helplessly. "It depends on what President Bartlet decides to do about those bills he sent over. I can't do anything until then."
"So?" Josh said, glancing at Leo. "If he wants the support, just give it to him."
"Josh-," Leo started.
"What?" Josh interrupted. "We want 286, and Winters can give it to us. Unless he wants to pass laws to marginalize groups of people or make it legal to deal cocaine, what's the problem?"
"Do we know what these bills are?" CJ asked.
"They were delivered yesterday evening," Leo answered. He reached for a folder on the other side of his desk and flipped it open. "I have a meeting with the president later today to go over them with him. They sent 5301 on increasing minimum wage by fifty cents . . ."
"Sold!" Josh called.
Leo shot him a warning look before continuing. "There's 921 on decriminalizing marijuana nationally, but not legalizing it. 523, which raises taxes to fund specialized military operations; 2398 on health care benefits for dependents-."
"We've already got that one on the list to get behind," Toby said.
Leo nodded, setting that paper aside. "1002 on raising subsidies for orchard farmers, and then 494 on regulating fuel consumption."
"Those don't sound too bad," CJ observed.
Toby was frowning slightly. "Increased subsidies on orchards? By how much?"
"Enough that I doubt the president will agree to support it," Leo replied.
Sam went rigid in his seat. "What? Why not?"
"The way the bill is written, the increase would only benefit a very small percentage of eligible farmers at the expense of the taxpayers," Leo said. "Not enough farmers to make it worth the cost."
"We push legislation all the time that benefits small groups of people," Sam countered. "What makes this one any different?"
"Not quite this small," Leo said. "Have you read the bill?"
"Well, no," Sam admitted.
"I have, and I know the president," Leo stated. "He's not going to support this one."
"He has to!" Sam insisted, feeling hints of panic at the edges of his mind. "Can't you convince him?"
Toby leveled an assessing gaze on his deputy. "Why are you so worked up about it? It's one bill."
Sam reared back, forcing himself to calm down. "I-I'm not," he replied. "I just . . ." He glanced around at the confused and concerned looks turned his way. "What if my uncle decides to withhold his support on 286 because President Bartlet chose not to back all six bills?"
With that, Sam knew he had Josh on his side. Sure enough, Josh's gaze swung to Leo.
"That's a good point, Leo," he said. "Why risk it?"
"One bill? For six?" Toby shook his head. "Do we really want to appear desperate for Winters' support?"
"We're not desperate," Josh denied.
Toby turned a stern look on him. "What else would you call practically whoring Sam out for favors from him?"
"Hey!" Josh and Sam's voices blended into one cry of indignation.
"All right!" Leo called. "That's enough of that!" He glanced between Josh and Sam. "I'll talk to the president, but I can't give you any guarantees. Now, we've spent enough time on 286, don't you think?" He turned to Toby. "Where are we on the meeting with the Energy Secretary?"
The mess of folders and papers seemed to have migrated from Sam's office to Toby's since Sam had joined him in outlining the administration goals speech. They were standing beside a whiteboard that they had moved into the office and were surrounded by empty coffee cups, pencils, files, and two open laptops as they argued over the order of the topics that needed to be covered.
"You can't put education before employment," Toby said, erasing the word 'edu' from the board and writing it below 'jobs'.
"Why not?" Sam demanded. He gestured at the board with his own marker. "The segue from economic reform makes sense if we follow it with education."
"The latest polling data shows a higher public interest in employment than in education," Toby said.
"It's only higher because, statistically speaking, more Americans have jobs than they do children," Sam pointed out.
"All the more reason to put employment first," Toby said. "Besides, we need to move employment before education so that the highest polled topics aren't back to back."
"Economic reform is a high interest topic," Sam replied. "Isn't that what we're doing by moving employment right after it?"
"Not if we put veteran care between economic reform and employment," Toby said, scribbling 'vet' on the board.
"We can't do that," Sam argued. "Veteran care is a part of health care, and we have that at the end."
"It's also a part of employment," Toby said, pointing to the corresponding word on the board. "And education. It doesn't matter where we put it."
"It matters to the transitional flow," Sam insisted.
"We can make it flow," Toby assured him. "That's not the problem."
"What is the problem?" Sam asked as he wiped the word 'vet' from next to 'health' on the board.
A knock interrupted their discussion. Toby and Sam turned to face the door as Josh leaned in, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Sam.
"Hey, I just spoke to Leo," he said. "He managed to talk the president around on supporting most of the bills."
Sam had a sinking feeling in his gut. "'Most'?"
Josh nodded. "Yeah, the president said no to the subsidy increase. It's like Leo said; it's not worth the money for what it's meant to do."
Sam felt a sort of numbness overtake him. "Are you sure?"
Toby gave him a considering look.
Josh nodded again. "Unfortunately. I need you to go see Winters and let him know; do you think you can head over tomorrow?"
Sam moved his head in a jerky nod.
"I'm sure he'll be okay with it, since we're going to back the other five," Josh continued. "Still, I'm going to need you to really push that as a good thing, okay? Thanks, buddy; you're the best!"
Toby shook his head at Josh's abrupt departure, then turned to Sam. "Sam?"
Sam was staring where Josh had been, clearly lost in thought.
"Sam!" Toby tried again.
No reaction.
"Sam!"
Sam started violently, rearing back from Toby. His foot caught on the leg of the coffee table, and he would have fallen if not for Toby grabbing his arm and steadying him.
"What?" Sam demanded, eyes wide.
"What the hell's the matter?" Toby said, letting go of his arm.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, straightening his shirt.
"You're acting like you just got told that the world was going to end next Tuesday," Toby told him. "So what if the president won't back the subsidy bill? Winters should be thrilled to get White House backing on the other five; one shouldn't make any difference."
"It might, if it's the one he really wants backing on," Sam said, his tone carrying unexpected weight.
Toby studied Sam carefully through narrowed eyes. "Even if that's the case, it's still not your fault," he said. "It's the president's call at the end of the day."
"Yeah, sure," Sam nodded absently.
Something in Sam's tone was raising warning flags in Toby's mind. "Unless there's something you're not telling me?"
Sam's attention jolted back to Toby. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Why are you so worried about talking to Winters about the bills?" Toby asked.
"You said so yourself," Sam said. "He's an intimidating guy."
"And your uncle," Toby added. "Or, at least, he was when you were growing up. Family's different."
Sam scoffed; he couldn't help it. "Not this family."
Toby was surprised at the rather cynical tone coming from the usually idealistic young man. Before he could press for more information, Sam turned back to the whiteboard.
"If veteran affairs is moving after economic reform, we need to take another look at where energy needs to go," he stated. "And internet security."
The conversation was clearly closed. Toby made a mental note to ask around about Winters, then followed Sam's lead. "Energy needs to be broken down by . . ."
Friday, February 6
"You don't have to do this."
Sam glanced at Elliot walking confidently at his side, then focused his attention forward once more. "Pretty sure it's part of my job."
The two were yet again walking through the halls of the Capitol building, the rest of Sam's security detail spread out and blending in with the rest of the men and women scurrying about. Sam appreciated their discretion, and he hoped it would continue after his secret was out.
"You could always do this over the phone," Elliot said.
Elliot had been less than thrilled to learn that Sam needed to visit Winters again, and had spent the time since finding out about the trip trying to convince Sam to change his mind.
Sam shook his head at Elliot. "No, it has to be in person. It'd be worse if it wasn't."
Elliot's frame tensed. "Worse how?"
Sam winced at his poor word choice and tried to backpedal. "Just . . . he'll be angrier if I don't pay him the proper respect by giving him the news in person."
Elliot stopped in his tracks, one hand catching Sam's arm. Sam flinched back reflexively, but stopped and faced him.
"Sam," Elliot said. "If there's a chance that Congressman Winters might hurt you-."
"This again?" Sam cut him off. "It's not like that! Would you just let it go?"
He tried to start walking again, but Elliot grabbed onto his arm and held him still. Sam whirled on him, an order to let him go on his lips, but it died a swift death at the deeply serious look on Elliot's face.
"Look," Elliot said. "I did some digging on Chris Winters. There were no official police reports, but I found no less than five incidents on file associated with his address with the LAPD. All of them were calls for domestic disturbances."
Fire blazed in Sam's eyes. He yanked his arm free, only to latch onto Elliot and drag him off to one side. "You had no right!"
"I have every right!" Elliot shot back. "You are under my protection! It's my job to ensure that no harm comes to you, no matter the source. If you're walking into a situation that you know could result in danger to you-."
"You're making a mountain out of a molehill!" Sam hissed. "Uncle Chris is not like that! He just . . . he expects a certain level of deference and respect, and for all those years he spent looking after my mom and me while my dad was away, I don't think it's an unreasonable expectation. Do you?"
"If it actually was respect I was seeing, then no," Elliot said.
Sam's brow creased in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Elliot gestured a hand up and down at Sam. "You've been distracted all week. You're on edge, you shy away from unexpected touch . . . that's not respect. That's fear."
"That's ridiculous," Sam corrected.
"Is it?" Elliot challenged. "Then you won't have a problem if I'm in the room with you for this meeting."
"And how would you explain that to Uncle Chris?" Sam retorted. "I'll be fine. Now let's get going before we're late."
Turning on his heel, he continued down the hall. Elliot took a deep breath and hurried to catch up.
"It I so much as hear a pin drop from that office, I'm coming in, and there's nothing you can do to stop me," Elliot said with finality.
"You won't need to," Sam promised, striding with a confidence he didn't feel into his uncle's office.
Winters' assistant called to announce Sam's arrival, and within seconds he was granted permission to move into the next room. Sam stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind himself.
Winters was standing next to one of his bookshelves, sliding a thick tome back into place. "Samuel," he greeted blandly. "I hope you're here with good news for me."
Sam felt his nerves rise, and he cleared his throat. "I am."
Winters strode back to his desk, leaning against the front of it. He crossed his arms. "Well?"
Sam took several measured steps forward. "President Bartlet has agreed to support five of your bills in exchange for your help with 286."
"I see," Winters replied. "That's rather generous."
Sam nodded, then waited. Something told him that he wasn't going to like what came next.
"Which bill did the president decide to leave out?" Winters asked.
Sam swallowed thickly. "Th-The subsidy bill. 1002."
Winters glanced down. "I see."
Nerves blossomed into fear, churning faster in Sam's stomach. "I-I tried to convince Leo McGarry to push for it with President Bartlet, I swear. He tried, but President Bartlet said no."
Winters nodded to himself, then straightened. He dropped his arms and lifted his chin. "Well . . . if he said no, then I supposed that's that."
Fine tremors of anxiety began to ripple down Sam's arms to his fingers. "Wh-What?"
"Go back to the White House," Winters ordered him. "Tell President Bartlet and that excitable little friend of yours that I appreciate the offer, but I won't be able to vote in favor of 286 after all."
"You can't do that!" Sam cried.
Winters' gaze sharpened dangerously. "I most certainly can, and you have no one to blame but yourself. I explicitly told you to push for the subsidy bill above the others. Your failure to heed my order rests entirely on your shoulders."
"He agreed to support five other bills!" Sam protested. "For your support on one!"
"And that one was the only one I needed White House backing on," Winters stated. He gave Sam a pitying look. "Samuel. Did you think those five didn't already have support in the House and Senate?"
"Then why send them to President Bartlet?" Sam asked.
"White House backing is powerful currency on the floor," Winters told him. "Particularly if it's from the same party as the House majority."
"Then surely that's worth you backing 286, even without the subsidy bill on the list," Sam insisted.
"I'm afraid not," Winters stated conclusively. "I warned you about the subsidy bill. You'll have to find some other way to pass 286."
Sam's sudden panic drove him forward. "You can't go back on your word! You promised the president!"
The smack came out of nowhere. The force of the blow propelled Sam to the side, causing him to stumble into a chair and fall onto the ground. Sharp pain bloomed on his cheek.
"Watch your mouth, you ungrateful whelp!" Winters snapped. "I never promised anything. I merely agreed to a mutually beneficial arrangement that you failed to uphold."
The door slammed open and Elliot barged into the room.
"What's the meaning of this?" Winters demanded. "Who are you?"
Elliot ignored Winters, moving quickly to Sam's side. He helped the younger man to his feet and gently turned Sam's face to examine the reddening mark. He turned to Winters, fury simmering in his eyes. "Did you do this to him?"
Winters was not intimidated in the slightest. "Who the hell gave you the right to barge in on a private meeting?" He looked at his door. "Claire!"
"Elliot," Sam said quietly. "Leave it. I fell."
"We're leaving," Elliot declared. "Now."
"We're not finished with our meeting," Winters told him.
"Yes," Elliot stated, taking Sam's elbow. "You are."
Ignoring Winters' blustering, Elliot pulled Sam out of the office. Blood rushed through Sam's ears, drowning out everything else. He let Elliot lead him down the hall and into a newly-cleared restroom, too stunned to argue.
Elliot released Sam once they reached the sink. Sam stared blankly at the fresh red mark darkening on his cheek until Elliot pressed a damp paper towel into his hands.
"You're not going to be alone with him again," Elliot vowed as Sam shakily wiped his face. "Give me one good reason not to haul his ass out of here on assault charges."
"No proof?" Sam offered weakly, balling up the paper towel and tossing it into the trash.
Elliot scowled. "I'm fairly certain I could get some traction with that red mark on your face," he retorted.
Sam's eyes dropped to his feet.
Elliot softened slightly. "Sam," he said gently. "Why are you protecting him?"
Sam sighed. "I'm not," he denied. "I just . . . it's not a big deal. He can cause a lot of trouble for the president. If he uses me to blow off some steam, then it's not so bad."
"Sam," Elliot said, stunned. "He can't do that."
"Yes, he can!" Sam cried. "He has! A few years ago, I worked as a congressional aide for Congressman Sanders of New Mexico. He wasn't a freshman, but he wasn't exactly established, either. He wanted to make a name for himself, and when he found out that I was Chris Winters' nephew, he decided to use that connection to advance his own projects."
"What happened?" Elliot asked.
Sam's shoulders slumped. "Uncle Chris found out immediately what he was doing. He never came right out and admitted to knowing about it, but right after, he used his connections to not only block all of Sanders' bills in his committee, but in every committee. He also managed to convince the other congressmen not to select him to serve on their committees, and he was excluded from a lot of important meetings. By the end of his term, he was finished in politics. I was moved to Uncle Chris' team for a while before being reassigned to one of his friends, and he made sure to warn me to never abuse our connection like that again or he would do the same to me."
"Sam, that wasn't your fault," Elliot said.
"I could have warned Sanders off," Sam insisted. "I never should have mentioned my uncle."
"Sam . . . is that why you haven't told anyone about your father?" Elliot asked.
Sam gave a slight start. "What? No! I . . ." He frowned in thought. "I don't . . . I don't think so . . ."
"Sam," Elliot said. "Vice President Hoynes is not like Winters. He'd never blame you for the actions of others. Winters is wrong."
"Is he?" Sam countered. "He told me what to do to get his support on 286. He warned me, and I didn't come through. Now I have to go back to the White House and tell Josh that I screwed up."
"Sam-," Elliot tried.
"Come on," Sam said, his tone subdued. "We need to get going."
"Sam! Have you seen this crap? Who the-what the hell?"
Sam's head jerked up from where he'd been working on a statement that CJ needed for her next press briefing. Toby was standing just inside his office, holding a piece of paper but staring at Sam in shock that was rapidly giving way to anger. "What?"
"What the hell happened to your face?" Toby demanded.
Sam winced, checking past Toby to see if anyone's attention had been drawn to them. Fortunately, Toby's outraged tone was quite common to those who worked with them, so no one was looking their way.
"Close the door!" Sam hissed. "And nothing happened to my face. I'm fine."
Toby closed the door and folded his arms. "You wanna try that again?"
Sam avoided looking directly into Toby's eyes. "You know how clumsy I can be."
"Right," said Toby in complete disbelief. "So clumsy that you fell right into someone's fist?"
"Not a fist," Sam corrected. "Don't be so dramatic."
"Dramatic?" Toby's voice rose again. "Half of your face is turning into a bruise! Who did this to you?"
"No one did anything to me!" Sam insisted. "Will you just leave it alone?"
"The only person you went to see today was Winters," Toby continued as if Sam hadn't spoken. "Did he do that to you?"
Real fear seized Sam. "No!" he cried. "I told you; I fell! Look, I have a lot of work to do, so ask what you came to ask so I can get on with it." He turned his attention back to his laptop screen.
Toby moved a stack of folders from one of Sam's visitor chairs and sat down. "Sam," he said quietly. "Look at me."
Unable to resist the gentle request, Sam did.
"Yesterday you were worried about Winters' reaction to the news of not getting support on all six of his bills," Toby stated. "Today, after your meeting, you have a bruise on your face and a pissed off Secret Service agent outside your door. It's not hard to figure out what happened."
Sam wilted. "Elliot's mad?"
"He doesn't look happy," Toby replied. "Sam. Tell me."
Sam sighed, dropping his eyes to his desk. "It's like you said, it's not hard to figure out," he stated quietly. "Uncle Chris was not happy to lose support on the subsidy bill, so he decided to withdraw his support on 286. I tried to talk him out of it, but I couldn't. Josh has been out of the office since then, and I haven't told him yet." He rubbed his forehead. "God, Josh is going to kill me-."
"Hey!" Toby barked sharply.
Sam's eyes flew up to him in surprise.
"This is not your fault!" Toby snapped. "You had nothing to do with the president's decision. You didn't do anything wrong. And I can't imagine you doing anything to warrant someone hitting you. I mean, if I haven't done it by now . . ."
The humor was unexpected but welcome. Sam chuckled softly.
Toby sighed. "Seriously, Sam . . . if you aren't going to report Winters for assault, then you need to stop going over there. As your boss, I can make it an order if I need to."
Sam smiled faintly. "Elliot's way ahead of you."
"At least one of you has sense," Toby replied. "I'm surprised he didn't just arrest Winters on the spot."
Sam gave Toby an abashed look.
"Or maybe not," Toby added, correctly interpreting Sam's expression. "Especially if you just denied everything to him like you just tried to do to me."
Sam winced.
Toby shook his head. "It's a good thing you've got a new family now, anyway. You won't need to put up with Winters anymore."
Sam nodded, then hesitated as a thought occurred to him. "Toby, can I . . . can I ask you a question?"
Toby nodded.
"Elliot said something earlier," Sam said. "He said . . . he said that John wouldn't react like Uncle Chris if I . . . that he wouldn't . . ."
Toby ducked his head to catch Sam's eyes. "Wouldn't give you a matching mark on the other side of your face?"
Sam blushed. "Uncle Chris has high expectations of behavior. He demands nothing less than absolute respect."
"A standard he himself appears unable to meet," Toby stated.
Sam shrugged, unable to argue with that comment.
"I know the vice president mostly by reputation," Toby continued. "He's made a name for himself in Congress, and I don't doubt he'll do the same here. But if I had to guess?"
Sam waited.
"I'd say he's far less likely to give you that matching mark on your face and far more likely to give it to Winters," Toby concluded.
Sam's eyes widened in shock.
"All right then." Toby rose from his chair. "When you finish what you're working on, come to my office. I need to run a statement by you and see if we can figure out who needs a remedial class in English 101."
Sam nodded absently as Toby left.
Sam leaned back on the couch in his apartment, a basketball game playing on the television. The sound was turned down to give Sam time to gather his thoughts.
Hoynes had extended another dinner invitation over the phone that afternoon, but Sam had begged off, claiming the need to work. Though true, the bruise on his cheek was the true impetus behind his decision. Hoynes had clearly been disappointed, but had assured Sam that he understood and that the invitation would stand should he change his mind.
Just the act of giving him space than for no other reason than he had asked for it sent turbulent emotions rolling through Sam. He couldn't think of a single time growing up when his parents or his uncle had done anything similar. He had always been expected to be 'on', to be 'fine'; there was always a role to play. A way to behave. With the Hoynes family, it never seemed to matter to them.
Of course, Sam thought wryly, he was comparing a week with one to twenty-six years with the other. Hardly a fair comparison.
Still . . .
Pounding on his door interrupted his brooding. Sam glanced over with a frown, then stood. Whoever it was would have had to get by Elliot's eagle eye, so they couldn't pose any real danger to him.
Sam had barely opened the door when it was forced open. Josh pushed past Sam, practically stomping into the apartment.
"Uh, hi, Josh," Sam said, closing the door.
Josh turned to face him, his expression a blank mask. The look froze Sam; he recognized the signs of an impending explosion.
"I just finished meeting with Congressman O'Leary," he stated, apropos of nothing.
"Now?" Sam glanced at his watch. "It's after nine o'clock! I thought O'Leary never met past six."
Josh ignored the observation. "Do you know what he told me?"
The unease in Sam began to grow. "What?"
Josh laughed humorlessly. It was a harsh sound. "That there was no way that 286 was going to the floor with Winters pulling his support."
Sam felt his heart sink to his shoes. "Josh-."
"I told Congressman O'Leary that he must be mistaken," Josh blazed ahead. "That my buddy Sam would have told me if something had changed." He folded his arms. "Is there something you maybe neglected to mention to me earlier, Sam?"
Sam winced. "You were out of the office by the time I got back from the Hill."
It was a weak excuse, and they both knew it.
"And away from a phone?" Josh pressed. "Which is weird, seeing as how I didn't see any missed calls or text messages from you at all today."
"Josh-," Sam tried again.
"What the hell happened, Sam?" Josh shouted, waving his arms about. "Everything was fine until your meeting today! What did you do?"
"Nothing!" Sam protested. "He wanted support on the subsidy bill; since he didn't get it, he withdrew his support for 286."
"Didn't you tell him about the other five bills?" Josh demanded.
"I did!" Sam insisted. "I tried, Josh! I swear to you, I tried! But without the subsidy bill, it wasn't enough!"
"Then you should have convinced him it was!" Josh snapped.
Sam flinched back, stunned. He watched as Josh let out a slow breath, running a hand through his wild curls as his shoulders slumped.
"We really needed his help, Sam," Josh said, his tone calmer. "Without it, it'll take a miracle to get 286 past Hoynes."
"What if we just talk to Hoynes?" Sam suggested, grasping at any straw he could reach. "Maybe we can all work something out that we both-."
"Oh, get real, Sam!" Josh scoffed. "Hoynes? Compromise? He'd just as soon tank the bill than help us!"
The comment stung more than Sam expected it to. He fell silent, watching Josh carefully.
Josh shook his head. "I need to get going. I've got a lot of damage control ahead of me, and I need to start now if I want to get in front of this setback."
Josh strode past Sam, yanking open the door and stepping into the hallway.
Sam followed him, stopping on the threshold. "Josh, I'm sorry."
Josh paused, but kept his back to Sam. Turning his head to the side, he said, "Just . . . if there's anything you can do to fix this . . . get him back."
He didn't wait for a response, continuing down the hall and out of sight.
end chapter 7