As Far As The Eye Can See

Boston July 26, 2004

Holiday Inn and Suites

Democratic Convention

A/N Sorry this took so long, and yes of course I ripped the foreign aid stuff from West Wing… and not that I'm comparing, but Sorkin would have too ;-)

When he opens his door to the knock she's busy looking at her notepad. She looks much more professional, and somehow more mature. Dark pants and jacket, a classy leather messenger bag and a small vertical frown line between her eyes.

"So it's Carter and Clinton tonight, but first we've got to get some footage of the free speech area. I think we should get that kid, Elliot whatever, to do a stand-up there. It'll look better with someone younger and a little looser" she looks up at him, "No offense…just want to play to your strength."

He's a little nonplussed. He's never really had an EP this direct. He opens his mouth, but before she can say anything she looks at his tie critically, "You got anything else in there?"

"Ah…yeah, but what's wrong with this one?" he's totally out of his depth now.

"A little too Ted Baxter not enough Ted Koppel. We'll have an intern pick something up before you go on air. Navy blue with a thin red stripe or pattern, something that says club tie without admitting which one"

She starts off down the hall, leaving him still standing in the doorway.

"Will?" she looks back at him, "You coming, or are you just going to stare at my ass."

He swallows and straightens his shoulders, "Yeah. What's after the protesters…. there's a Brooks Brothers over on Newbury….. and I'm more of a leg man, really. Maybe you want to reconsider your wardrobe? You know one of those skirts with a slit up the back."

"Are you flirting with me, Billy?"

"Maybe… I mean, you're picking out my clothes and all,"

"Well it's a thankless job, but someone has to do it."

He's really not quite sure if she means flirting or choosing clothes, but he knows enough to shut the fuck up. The door falls closed behind him, and he strides down the hall to catch up.

00000000000000000

She's in his ear and in his sight all late afternoon and evening, calm, cool and crisp. She's right beside the camera, feeding him lines, ideas, questions, information. He's not really used to having his producer in his eye line, and he kind of thinks he likes it. At least he likes it when it's Mac. It feels easy; like this has been going on forever. They finally get a long break during News Night when the feed goes back to Ed Wyatt in New York, and Will has only a response during the A block and an update at the half hour.

During the final stretch of News Night, Mac is scrolling through the updates on her blackberry. "Hey, did you see that Michael Wolf says Kerry has to be careful about looking hypocritical for claiming to be a defender of middle class and poor Americans because he's rich, Ivy League, upper class…?"

"I did," he says absently. He yawns and stretches, turning his neck to release the kinks. He's pretty sure he only got a couple of hours sleep, and as usual he's grateful for the light wash of makeup hiding the dark smudges under his eyes.

Mac looks at him appraisingly, and launches in with, "I mean the thing is who else should do it? It's come to the point in American politics where only the upper class can run for public office…"

"Really?" he says sarcastically.

"So it has to be up to the Democrats to_"

"I think that's just a fallacy from the liberal left. Our history is full of elite ultra-rich Republicans who defended the poor and middle class successfully... remember Teddy Roosevelt? Or how about Thaddeus Stevens, House Republican leader when the national income tax was instituted who said "It would be manifestly unjust to allow the large money operators and wealthy merchants, whose incomes might reach hundreds of thousands of dollars, to escape from their due proportion of the burden"

"Do you have these quotes memorized?"

"I'm an informed member of the electorate."

"You're a Republican!" she says triumphantly.

"It's not a secret."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Right...no I usually do as part of my introduction... Hi my name is Will McAvoy and although I'd like you to value me as an individual person for my own skills and talents let me tell you that I'm a Republican," he smirks at her.

She narrows her eyes at him. "Congratulations on your prodigious verbal memory."

"Oh come on… it was funny."

"A little bit, yes."

"I could hardly help but be a Republican...I'm from Nebraska...Republicans as far as the eye can see, I mean if you cut us we bleed red."

She looks at him, "...I think we all do, Billy."

He waves his hand at her, "You know what I mean," he says, "Anyways the point is, I guess I didn't even really know there was an alternative until I went to Stanford law. But hey, Miss Liberal, Republicans are more than just anti-government drones, they're hard working men and women who believe in market solutions and common sense; who think this country should be defending itself against a dangerous world, and that Americans should come first in government priorities."

"So we should cut foreign aid?"

"I didn't say that, but sure; who wants to put money in a hat in Botswana when you got hats that need filling here."

"You can't make this about charity. It's about self-interest. We cut farm assistance in Colombia. Every single crop we developed was replaced with cocaine. We cut aid for primary education in northwest Pakistan and Egypt; the kids went to madrasahs. That's the fact of it, and now we're dealing with the fallout! There's a way to defend America that doesn't focus on military solutions!"

"So the democrats have to be smart enough to use the facts at their disposal. I'm not going to do their job for them! And I actually am not opposed to all forms of foreign aid, I just think we need a better eye on where the money is going, and I don't think I'm the only moderate republican out there!"

"Nope, just the only one I'm working the Democratic Convention with. Who did you piss off in New York, Billy?"

"Nobody!" he yells.

She looks at him with a half smile, her head tilted just a little. It's what he's stared to think of as her 'aren't I cute' expression. "Are you warmed up for our next foray into enlightening the American electorate? We're back in two minutes, need some water?" She passes him a water bottle, and gives him such a devastating smile that he almost pours the water down his brand new tie. Before he has time to analyse the messy confused feelings that are swirling around his brain they are back on the convention floor for the intro to Jimmy Carter, and then they slide into the feed from Little Rock.