Cerulean sits in the foyer, waiting. She saw a bunch of people with flashlights go by a few minutes ago, but that's not what she's waiting for. The tree lights are dark, just like all the other lights in the White House, but soon they'll all come on at once and that's gonna be amazing. So she sits in one of the chairs, Mr. Charlie next to her.
Cerulean likes Christmas trees. They're very, very pretty. In her old house, Cerulean used to decorate a tree with Zach and Jason. The lights were already on the tree, sparkling and bright, but they put on the ornaments. Cerulean liked to put on the angel ornaments. Zach said that they were Mommy's ornaments. A lot of the angels had yellow hair, like Aunt Donna and Auntie Ainsley, but some had hair like Aunt C.J. or hair like Aunt Bonnie and Aunt Kathy, or hair like Dr. Bartlet. Her favorite was the brown-haired one in the blue dress with a harp in her hands. But all those ornaments were back at the old house, and Daddy said Cerulean wasn't ever going back there again. Cerulean had tried imagining Jeremy putting the ornaments on the tree, but she couldn't. Jeremy didn't like Christmas much.
"Hello?" Dr. Bartlet's voice comes out of the dark as a flickering light appears in the foyer. "Is someone in here?"
"Over here!" Charlie replies, turning his flashlight away from his book. The flickering light comes closer and Cerulean sees Dr. Bartlet is holding a candle. The Secret Service agents behind her are holding flashlights.
"Now what are you doing all the way out here, Charlie?" Dr. Bartlet asks.
"Cerulean and I are waiting for the tree to light up." Charlie points the flashlight at Cerulean for a second, keeping the light out of her face. She waves.
"Hi, Dr. Bartlet."
"Ah, I see. The tree is quite spectacular, especially when it first lights," Dr. Bartlet says. "May I join you?"
"Sure." Charlie's flashlight goes back to his book. Cerulean feels Dr. Bartlet sit in the chair on the other side of her.
"So, Cerulean, how's your Christmas Eve been?" Dr. Bartlet says. The candle settles on the arm of the chair, between Cerulean and Dr. Bartlet.
"Pretty good. The lights went out and that was kinda scary, but I'm all right now," Cerulean says. "Daddy kept hurting himself though."
"He's not the most graceful of men, your Daddy," Dr. Bartlet says. "You're not scared anymore, right?"
"Nope. I'm 'cited," Cerulean says.
"Excited? How excited?"
"Very, very excited!"
"That's a lot of excitement. Are you excited for anything in particular?" Dr. Bartlet says.
"Yeah, the tree's gonna light up soon! There's gonna be all sorts of colors and they're gonna dance around the tree like they're chasin each other! It's the best part!"
"The best part of the tree?"
"No, the best part of Christmas!" Cerulean says. "The best part of Christmas is the lights. They're super pretty."
"Your favorite part of Christmas is the lights. Not the presents or Santa," Dr. Bartlet says, frowning in confusion.
"Well, no, Santa's not real. He's just on TV," Cerulean says. "And the presents are nice, I guess. Me, Jason, and Zach used to get each other presents, but Jason's not around anymore, so I just got presents for Zach, Nana, and Daddy. And everybody here, of course."
"Of course." Dr. Bartlet's hand finds Cerulean's hair and starts playing with the bow Nana put in it this morning. "Well, I'm glad you like the tree. I like it too. Maybe next year you'll help me decorate my tree."
"That'd be fun," Cerulean says.
"It would," Dr. Bartlet agrees. "Do you want to see something neat?"
"Sure. What?" Dr. Bartlet's hand leaves Cerulean's bow. Suddenly her fingers are going through the candle fire, going superfast. "Whoa! Doesn't that hurt?"
"No. Because I move my hand very fast, the skin doesn't burn," Dr. Bartlet says. "Do you want to try?" Cerulean looks at the fire and then at her hand. She closes her hand and puts it in her lap.
"I don't think Daddy would want me to," Cerulean says.
"Daddys are like that," Dr. Bartlet says. There is a clicking sound and a whirring that makes them all look around. Then all the lights come on, the tree covered in the dancing colors. Cerulean gasps.
"It was just like magic, Dr. Bartlet, did you see that?"
When Sam leaves the Oval Office, Charlie is at his desk. Cerulean is not with him. Sam stays behind as the others head back to their offices.
"Charlie, where's Cerulean?" he asks.
"With the First Lady. She said she'd have Cerulean back to your office," Charlie says.
"When?" Sam asks. Charlie pauses.
"You know, she didn't say."
"Did she say where she was going with Cerulean?" Sam says.
"Nope. Didn't mention that either," Charlie answers. Sam sighs.
"My daughter's been kidnapped by the First Lady. Great."
"But you know they can't have left the building," Charlie says.
"Doesn't help me much. Maybe I'll get lucky and they're already at my office."
"Maybe." Sam walks back to the Communications bullpen. The First Lady and the Secret Service are conspicuously absent.
"Kathy!"
"The power's back, but the wind's still acting up!" she reports from her desk.
"Have you seen Cerulean?" Sam asks. She looks up.
"She's not with you?"
"No. She's with the First Lady."
"I haven't seen either of them," Kathy says. Sam nods.
"Okay. I'm just gonna wait for them then."
"Sam!" Ainsley enters the bullpen. Her head and shoulders are dusted with snow, her hair askew and flecked with frozen flakes. She walks over as she rubs her hands together, pink-cheeked and breathless.
"Ainsley! I thought you left," Sam says.
"I tried," she says.
"You look cold."
"I am!" She glares at him. "I couldn't leave the parking lot because of the snow. They sent me back inside."
"Ah. I heard they were doing that," Sam replies. "You want some coffee? We had just made a fresh pot before the power went out."
"The power went out?" Ainsley repeats.
"Yeah, for about fifteen minutes."
"The White House, where the President lives and runs the country, lost power?"
"Yeah?" Sam says, now slightly confused.
"Don't they have back-up generators?"
"They were malfunctioning. Obviously something got fixed since the power's back now."
"Sam, it doesn't bother you that the building that houses the Situation Room had no power for fifteen minutes? Or that the Secret Service were suddenly protecting the President in the dark for fifteen minutes?" Ainsley says.
"I hadn't thought about it that way. I was thinking about Cerulean," Sam says. "But now that you've pointed that out, I am sufficiently horrified."
"That's what I was going for," Ainsley says. "I'll take you up on the coffee." She blows on her fingertips. Sam walks over to the coffee pot, Ainsley following. She peers through his office window as he pours her some coffee.
"Is Cerulean in your office?" she asks.
"No."
"Where is she?" Ainsley accepts the cup and sighs. "So warm."
"It's still cold out there, huh?" Sam says.
"Freezing. Where's your daughter?" she says again. Sam shrugs.
"I don't know."
"What?" Ainsley's voice is mildly shrill and far too loud. Sam winces.
"Well, she can't have left the building. She probably heard that," he says.
"You lost your daughter?" Ainsley demands.
"You say that like I don't have a general idea where she is!" Sam replies.
"The building's pretty big, Sam, knowing she's in the building isn't responsible at all!"
"Hey, I left her with Charlie. He's the one that lost her!" Sam says. "She disappeared with the First Lady."
"You seem really calm about that," Ainsley says.
"What's going to happen to her when she's with the First Lady? It's probably the safest place she could be," Sam says. "You wanna go look for her?"
"I think we should."
"We?" Sam repeats.
"She's your daughter," Ainsley says, voice pointed.
"I think she's perfectly fine with the First Lady. I'm going to go back to-"
"Sam." Her tone leaves no room for argument. Sam sighs.
"Okay. Drink your coffee and we'll go."
"I think he's up to something," C.J. finishes. Josh nods as he sits in one of the guest chairs in her office. He keeps nodding. "Josh?"
"Yeah?" he says.
"You're still nodding." He stops.
"Well, I clearly agree with the fantastic point you just made, and had to show it through exuberant gesture," Josh says, turning to face her.
"Exuberant isn't exactly the word I'd use," C.J. says. "What was the fantastic point I just made?"
"Um… probably something incredibly eloquent about Leo," Josh says. "Sorry, I wasn't listening."
"I could tell. You're just in here because my office is warmer than your office, aren't you?" C.J. says.
"Because my office is an icebox," Josh says. "What were you saying?"
"I think the President is up to something," C.J. says, leaning forward. Josh frowns.
"Yeah?"
"That whole spiel about Christmas magic seemed pretty suspect to me," C.J. says. Josh rolls his eyes.
"Come on, C.J. He's probably just going to pile his presents to Cerulean under the tree and say it was Santa," he says. "He can't control the weather, as much as he'd like to."
"Laugh now, ye of little faith. Tomorrow morning will see what 'Christmas magic' brings." There is a knock at the door. "Come in!" The door opens. Sam and Ainsley stand in the doorway. Ainsley, rosy-cheeked and slightly spattered with melted snow, clutches a cup of coffee.
"Wow, you look cold," Josh says.
"I just came back in."
"You got trapped in the parking lot, huh?" C.J. says. Ainsley nods.
"I'm regaining feeling in my extremities now. Have you guys seen Cerulean?"
"Not since the power went out. I thought Charlie was watching her," C.J. says.
"She went off with the First Lady and Ainsley thinks we should look for them," Sam says.
"It's your responsibility to know where she is-"
"We're back to the paternal responsibility thing? Again?" Sam says, turning to look at Ainsley.
"Well, you used it as an excuse for not letting Cerulean dye her hair, so yes, we're back to the paternal responsibility thing," she says with a wicked smile.
"Cerulean wanted to dye her hair? Aren't they supposed to be teenagers when they want to do crazy stuff like that?" Josh asks.
"It was Ainsley's idea. And we're not having that argument again, so let's keep looking for Cerulean, shall we?" Sam says. Ainsley nods.
"Fine. I think we should check the mess next."
"You're out of coffee?" Sam asks.
"Yeah and I'd rather have hot chocolate next. Perhaps with a cookie." They turn to leave, but C.J. sees green and has a thought.
"Wait!" she calls. Sam and Ainsley stop, turning back.
"What?" Sam says. C.J. points over their heads.
"Mistletoe." They look up to see the festive sprig. Their eyes widen as they glance at each other and Josh snickers. C.J.'s smile is enormous.
"We, uh, we have to go find Cerulean, we can't-"
"It's tradition, Ainsley," C.J. interrupts. "Mistletoe on Christmas Eve."
"It's a ridiculous tradition," Sam says, finding his voice again.
"You're chicken," Josh says. "The pair of you, a couple of chickens!"
"Josh, are you twelve?" Ainsley replies, rolling her eyes. C.J., feeling a lot of Christmas spirit suddenly, uses a tried-and-true tactic.
"Bawk- bawk- bawk…"
"Is she-she is clucking at us!" Ainsley says, face reddening.
"It's not going to work, C.J.," Sam says.
"Bawk- bawk- bawk…"
"I don't see what the big deal is, guys. I kissed Carol, and I don't even celebrate Christmas," Josh says. Ainsley sighs and looks up at Sam.
"Let's just get it over with," she says.
"Fine." Sam leans down slightly, but needn't have bothered- Ainsley grabs his chin and plants one on him. Sam tenses in surprise, but relaxes. Things get a little more heated than C.J. cares to see.
"Okay, guys, keep it PG-13," Josh says, looking uncomfortable. They don't seem to hear him. C.J. reaches into a drawer and takes out her camera. "Guys?" C.J.'s camera clicks loudly and that gets Sam and Ainsley to pull apart.
"C.J.!"
"I told you to kiss, not count each other's teeth," C.J. says. "You can do that somewhere else, not in my office."