At half past twelve, David turned into the driveway and pulled into the garage. Picking up his briefcase, he looked at it and then put it back on the passenger seat. Why bother taking it into the house? He was going straight to bed. He would not need it tonight... well, this morning really.

The door squeaked as it closed, something he only noticed when he came in after midnight. He made another mental note to oil the hinges. Maybe one of these days, he would remember to do it when the sun was up.

As he walked down the center hall, David realized there was a light on in the kitchen. Rounding the corner, he stopped. Sam stood in front of the open refrigerator, staring at the milk carton in his hand.

David watched him for a moment, giving Sam the chance to realize he was there. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Checking the calcium content?"

Sam started, nearly dropping the carton. "Dad! I didn't hear you come in."

David took plates out of the cabinet and cut them both pieces of the chocolate cake Kate had made the previous day. "Pour me a glass, would you?"

Sam filled two glasses and carried them to the table. Dropping onto a chair, he rolled up his cuffs and loosened his tie — a tie David realized looked very familiar.

Joining Sam at the table, David handed him one of the plates and dropped into the chair across from him. "How was your meeting?"

Sam picked up his glass. "I just got home. I stayed and had supper with Josh and CJ."

"Not Toby?"

"He's in Washington." He took a swallow of milk. "Leo promised Margaret a trip to California to make up for the fundraiser she missed when we came out a couple of months ago, so Toby stayed behind this time to mind the store."

David swallowed a mouthful of cake. Kate rarely baked, but when she did, the results were incredible. Having Sam at home had given her cause to make some of his favorite desserts. He wondered if he could convince her to send care packages when Sam returned to Washington, as she had when he was at Princeton and Duke. David had always reaped the benefits, eating whatever did not fit in the box.

"What are you two doing?" Kate asked from the doorway.

David almost laughed at the guilt that flashed across his son's face. "We're eating cake at midnight. Care to join us, darling?" he inquired, already getting to his feet.

She smiled and yawned. "Just a small piece."

He cut a slice and poured a glass of milk, carrying them back to the table as she sat down beside Sam. She looked at her son, obviously gauging his mood.

"How did it go, dear?"

"Fine," Sam said slowly, drawing out the word into almost a sigh. He looked up when neither of his parents spoke, realizing he would not get away with just that as an answer. "I met with the President for, I don't know, ten or fifteen minutes."

"Just the President?" David inquired.

"Well, Leo was there, but he wasn't part of the conversation." Sam's mouth quirked up slightly. "He said that nothing had changed since the last time we talked."

Kate glanced at David. "I don't remember you mentioning that you had spoken to Leo."

"He called the afternoon before I left. He said to take my time, that the White House would still be there when I was ready to come back."

"And if you don't go back?" she asked.

Sam took a sip of milk. "He offered to write a recommendation for me."

"That would be worth having," David murmured. "A recommendation from the White House Chief of Staff would go a long way."

Sam nodded. "He didn't tell the President what we talked about, though. That surprised me."

Kate put her hand on his arm. "I think he wanted to keep that between the two of you, sweetheart."

"But... it's just that... I thought..." Sam paused, frowning as he tried to organize his thoughts; and his father remembered the young boy who had done the same thing.

Kate squeezed his arm and then returned her attention to her dessert. She glanced at David, and they shared a smile. This was Sam — their Sam — his face alive with ideas and feelings as he worried over the perfect words to voice them. The small brave flame David had seen in his son a week ago burned a bit brighter tonight.

"Leo said that he doesn't tell the President everything — which I understand. He tries to keep the unimportant stuff out of the Oval." Sam speared another forkful of cake, studying the whirl of buttercream frosting on the top. "He and the President attack things so differently," he mused. "It's what makes them such a good team."

David pushed away his empty plate and leaned back in his chair.

"I've been thinking a lot about the campaign," Sam confessed quietly. "We all came in with different talents, but we gelled as a team. Part of it was Leo — he was so determined, so sure we could do win. There were moments he was the only one who believed, but it didn't stop him. The rest of us, though… We had no time to figure out what we should be doing, we just had to do it. Josh said it was like being dropped blindfolded into the middle of the freeway at rush hour." He smiled. "But I learned so much, everybody did."

"And you won," Kate said quietly.

"And we won."

"I watched that campaign, sweetheart, not only because you were such an integral part of it, but because I'd never seen anything like it. What's that saying about something of the parts being greater than...something else?"

"The whole is greater than the sum of the parts," Sam supplied.

"That's right. You said that Leo and the President attack things differently. I think that was true of every one of you, and it was because of those differences that you won. They meshed into something greater than the six of you."

Sam studied the cake left on the plate in front of him. After a moment, he looked from Kate to David. "I think it's time I go back to Washington. I've talked to the President. I owe Beckman-Casey the same courtesy."

David nodded. He had expected this. "I'd like to take the boat out once more while you're here. Maybe convince your mother to come along this time."

"I was thinking of leaving on Monday or Tuesday, if that's possible."

"I'll have Carla call in the morning," David said, getting to his feet. "And speaking of morning, it's coming fast so I think I'll say good night."

"I'm going to stay up for a little while," Sam told him. "I'll take care of the dishes."

Kate kissed his cheek and tousled his hair, a gesture Sam had not allowed without protest since he had turned ten. Tonight, though, he caught her hand and gently kissed it.

"Good night, Mom."

"Sleep well, dear."

David wrapped his arm around his wife's waist as they climbed the stairs. "He's doing the right thing, Kate. He's ready to go back."

"Back to Washington or back to the White House?"

"I don't know, and I'm not sure Sam does either." He looked at her. "Would you object if he chose the White House?"

"I don't know. I want him to be happy, and if that's what he chooses…"

David kissed her. "I won't tell you not to worry."

"Thank you," Kate whispered, leaning into him, and he rested his cheek on her soft hair.

"He's ready. He needs to go back."

"I know. I saw his face; I heard the excitement in his voice. He has his feet under him again, and we have to let him go."

David held her tighter. "All we can do now is be there for him."

"Same as always."

"Same as always."