Toby woke to an alarm he wasn't used to, and when he opened his eyes, he realized three things.
First, his feet were very cold. He and Addy had been awakened in the middle of the night to the sounds of emergency vehicles being called to a crash across the street. This led to a long discussion about him finding Josh at Rosslyn after nearly losing his brother in the shuttle, another about her losing her parents, and then a talk about what made them both go into politics. She'd dozed off against his chest and startled awake at the unfamiliarity of it twice, prompting him to order her to roll over and sleep. After that, there was no way he was going to let in the metaphorical cold air of the room by slipping out of bed to get his socks.
Second, he and Addy had slept in their own little packages on either side of the bed, both so used to living alone that they hadn't crossed paths with each other in their sleep. The odd thing was that the blanket he was currently covered in wasn't the one he'd fallen asleep under. That one was completely encasing his girlfriend, and the only conclusion he could reach was that she'd woken at some point in the night, realized she was monopolizing the blanket, and found one to drape over him. He had a habit of bunching his extra-long blanket around his hands as he slept, so the shorter, different blanket explained his feet, at least.
Third, despite having gotten very little sleep, he felt great, and while there were some prurient conclusions to draw about that, the one he wanted to make was that this felt right, waking next to Addy.
Those three thoughts hit him in the first few seconds of waking up, and he was still processing them when his bedmate sat up.
"If there was any hope of sneaking you out in the daylight, I would go back to sleep for another hour, if only because I know the lack of sleep is going to hit me right around lunchtime."
"What happens at lunchtime?" he asked, clearing his throat of the sleep phlegm that had gathered there.
"That's when Donna, armed with the article you told me about, tries to get out of me who you are," she said, throwing herself back against the pillows. "Good morning."
"Good morning," he said- because it was.
"Will it be a good morning for the President, that's the question," she fretted. Toby held out his arm, and Addy snuggled up beside him, kissing his chest almost at the same time as he kissed her hair.
"We'll get through it. If you end up needing a job, I have a few connections," he said, keeping his tone light. "If I end up needing a job, I can always do phone banking. Josh says I have a good phone voice."
"Toby!" she protested, sitting up and glaring at him adorably.
They got dressed, and Addy drew him a little diagram on a napkin for how to get to the parking garage, her begrudging concession to his concerns about press activity. He left first to avoid the optics of him locking up her apartment. As he walked down the three flights of sticky stairs, Toby heard a man pounding on a door somewhere above him, sounding alternatively furious and contrite, begging his wife to let him back inside. He found his way to Addy's car, wondering if what he'd overheard was one of the reasons why the denizens of that particular building buzzed anyone and everyone in. He wouldn't want that man pounding on his door, but he sure as hell didn't want him bothering Addy.
Addy's reaction when he brought it up was to spend many minutes detailing the man's woes, which meant she'd crossed paths with him enough times to have to listen in the first place. Toby bit his tongue all the way to their agreed-on drop off point, but when she parked, he got out with his things and opened the passenger side door, sitting down and shutting it with a bang.
"I thought we didn't want anyone to see-"
"Move in with me," he said without preamble.
He didn't look over at her, just sat with his work bag on his lap, clenching and unclenching his hand on the handle. In his peripheral vision he could see her staring at him.
"Toby," she started. Her tone was quiet and serious, but he interrupted her anyway, because that had been his plan- to knock her off balance, to overwhelm her with his arguments, to do whatever it took to make her see reason.
"That apartment is a liability, both for you and the President. There have been two articles written about you in the past two weeks. Do you trust your super not to let someone into your apartment while you're away? Do you take work home?"
"In my defense, I didn't realize I'd be doing this level of work when I signed the lease," she said in a small voice.
"All the more reason to give up your lease. You're coming up on a year anyway," Toby said. "If you don't, I just might decide to show up every night, and to hell with the consequences. I don't like you staying there by yourself."
"I appreciate that you're angry in defense of my safety," she said, and Toby relented, looking over at her. Addy knew just what to say, but he hoped she'd understand that on this he intended to be implacable. "Don't you think that either of those options bring a different kind of liability? A moral one?" An alarm went off on Addy's watch, and she frowned. "Five minutes before I have to pay the minimum parking fee. Rain check?"
"Okay." He reached out, squeezing her hand before getting out of the car. He didn't tell her he planned to walk to work so he could check the hours of a particular store he'd pass on the way.
8888888888
Addy headed straight for CJ's office when she got inside. Toby had told her CJ was particularly upset about the implications of the article, but mostly, she wanted to read the thing for herself. CJ's door was in sight when someone stepped into her path.
It was Danny.
"Hey, Benedict Concannon," she said, meaning to sidestep him and be on her way.
"That's not fair. I don't tell my colleagues what to write about, and you shouldn't expect me to."
"Your colleagues should tell you not to make stuff up to show off your insider knowledge," she said, staring him down. "I wasn't brought here to prep for the MS story, and you know it!"
"That was a risk to shake the trees, but I got a few leads from it, and you ought to take it as a compliment!" Danny did look genuinely annoyed, maybe even hurt, but so was she. "Ask yourself whether you can buy the kind of clout that comes with those implications, and while you're at it, do you mind telling me when you gave your boyfriend the note that fell out of his pocket in the Oval?"
"Why, so you can spin that into some kind of narrative about how irresponsible it is for West Wing staffers to have a life alongside their official duties?" she snapped, hating how betrayed she felt, and hating even more that Toby had warned her about this and she hadn't guarded herself well enough.
"The opposite, actually," Danny said, tossing his head back to look at her with a frown. His fluffy hair made the motion less aggressive than it might have been on someone else.
"Is this man bothering you?" CJ asked from behind Addy.
"I'm done," Danny said, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender that was diminished slightly by the fact that he'd been holding a notebook and a pen.
CJ's lips curved down in a distinct frown as they watched him heading back to his desk. "You don't have to talk to him," she said to Addy, gesturing for her to follow back to her office.
"It's not a problem, I just can't always follow the same threads he's chasing, and it makes me feel inadequate, doubly so when the threads he's chasing are tying me down," Addy sighed. "Everything feels so much more adversarial now."
"It's because you've been hanging with the big boys," CJ said, her lips twisting sideways as she realized she was included in that number. "The big… guns. Senior staff, I'm saying. What did he ask you?"
"It wasn't so much what he asked, but how. Like maybe when I'd handed over the note referenced in that article, it was wasting the government's time, or something."
CJ looked up sharply. "You confirmed you were the source of the note?"
"Well, yeah, that's in the article, isn't it?"
By the look on CJ's face, the answer was no. Addy's blood started slowly converting to lighter fluid as she watched her boss search on her desk for it.
"Not in so many words," CJ said, handing over the article. "I think it's meant to be a two-parter, setting up a mystery woman wearing a necklace whose identity will be revealed in a day or two."
Addy scanned through the article and swore under her breath. "The first thing I told myself when I got here was to never confirm stuff to the press, even if they look like they know what they're talking about!"
"Yeah, well, that's the trick. You can settle into the job, but you can't ever get comfortable."
The only thing she had going for herself is that Danny knew he'd finagled a scoop, and that meant he wasn't going to tell anyone else what he'd learned. Ordinarily she might have stopped by Donna's desk, but she felt like she needed to settle back into work mode before she let her friend get a glimpse of her demeanor today.
Addy had been at work for forty minutes before Toby finally made his way in. As soon as he set his bag and coat down in his office, he came right back out and over to her.
"Did you read the article?"
"Yes, but not before I- yes," Addy amended.
"Good. Come with me, it's time for Senior Staff."
Because it took her a while to get extricated from her cramped desk/sticky-wheeled chair combo, Addy didn't argue with him. She didn't argue with him for other reasons, too, including the fact that a lot of people would be scrutinizing her behavior today in particular, and not all of them might know her well enough to know that challenging Toby Ziegler was a thing she had done from the moment that they met.
"I'm not aware of any stipulation that confers Senior Staff status onto me by proxy," Addy whispered when she caught up to him.
"Even if it was, that might not be much help today," he said, walking her past the cluster of desks outside the Oval.
"Is he angry?" Addy asked, nervously straightening her skirt.
"No clue, but if he is, I don't want to go fetch you while everyone talks about it where I can't hear them," Toby said, opening the door to the Oval.
The President wasn't there yet, but everyone else was.
"Hey, good morning," Sam said, clearly surprised to see her.
"Jury's out on that," she said brightly.
Before he could ask her what she meant, the President walked in from the terrace outside. His expression was best described as perturbed, and the lot of them collected in front of his desk. On seeing Addy standing among his assembled staff, Bartlet lifted his chin, his expression souring further.
"Leo?" he called out.
"Here, sir."
"What kind of a day is it for you when your daughter calls you, excited about something she saw in the newspaper, except that exact thing is instead a metaphorical bomb you have to defuse?"
"A bad day, sir," Leo responded.
"Exactly." The President sat down at the desk, which seemed to be unusual, given the way the others in the group reacted. "I can't have the Secret Service running to the press. It's only a matter of time before we'll have agents giving insight into policy decisions. I need you to meet with Ron Butterfield as soon as possible." He took in a breath to continue, but Leo cut in.
"I spoke with Ron last night, sir, after hearing about today's article. He's already had a meeting with his guys, lit a real fire under their asses, from what I hear."
"Good. It makes me angry when people trample on my goodwill."
Addy wanted to shrink back into the wallpaper. Even if the unhappy words weren't directed at her, they felt like they were, and maybe they were deserved, given how reckless she and Toby had been last night and this morning.
Leo started feeling all of the pockets on his suit jacket and trousers. "Oh! Margaret handed me a- yes," he said, finding it. After a quick read, he nodded decisively. "Sir, Ambrose Sanders resigned from the Secret Service this morning."
Bartlet took off his glasses and looked askance at Leo. "Ambrose?"
"Yes, sir."
"He was one of the guards at the residen-" Bartlet stopped himself mid-word and straightened his shoulders. "Okay."
"With any luck that'll be the end of it, and good luck to him getting another job in this town, with that kind of betrayal on his record," Leo said.
"Wait, so the story's real? I thought someone was trying to draw one of us out, you know, see who looks guilty and then make hay out of it!" Josh said.
Addy held in her frown. Hadn't Donna told him it was real? She supposed that there was a twisted kind of logic in holding back, and not just because Josh was terrible at social stuff. They were still under scrutiny, even if it wasn't specific to this.
"Oh, it's real, all right. I would have thought the people involved might have had a care not to be caught passing notes in my office," the President said, standing up and gesturing for them to head over to the couches.
Addy wasn't worried about herself, but Toby didn't deserve that implication. Without really thinking about whether it was a good idea, she said, "It fell out of his pocket, sir."
Everyone turned to look at her, including Toby, who was pressing a fisted hand to his lips as if that was the only thing preventing him from yelling at her to stop.
The President's tone was deceptively quiet as he said, "What did you say?"
"I'm sorry to speak out of turn, Mr. President, but there was no note-passing in the Oval Office. The message fell out of his pocket by mistake."
"Wait," Josh said, looking at her with dawning comprehension. He was immediately hushed by CJ.
"Why was there a note in the first place?" Bartlet asked, walking over to stand in front of her in full disappointed professor mode.
"Sir, the whole thing between us is intangible by necessity. I see the way those Grace Notes make people take joy in destroying the paper they're written on and thought this could be the opposite: something he could hold onto, something symbolic. It was irresponsible."
"Yes, yes it was," the President said, but his tone had shifted, more resigned than outraged.
The beat of silence afterwards felt like eternity to Addy. A remedy -the obvious remedy- to the whole situation seemed crystal clear in that moment.
"I'm sorry, I'm trying to keep up. Are you saying you're the one in the article?" Leo asked, almost wild-eyed. "That, I was not expecting."
"Would you like CJ to respond if asked about former Agent Sanders, today, Mr. President?" Toby asked in a tone that implied he was taking on the duty of refocusing the group.
"Yes, this once, I think we'll need to. The framing doesn't matter. What matters is the idea that we'll accept lax security if it benefits the administration in some way, and that's just not true," Bartlet said forcefully. "In fact, don't wait to be asked. Announce it at the top. What's next?"
At the end of the meeting, Addy drifted toward the President's desk. She wanted to speak with him, but she was also hoping to deflect from the many questions she could see in the eyes of the others.
"I have a sudden sense of Déjà vu," he said, when he settled into his chair.
"Mr. President-"
"No."
"Sir, don't you want to hear the question first?" Leo said with a disconcerted chuckle.
"No, I do not. She is trying to set herself on fire to keep the building warm, and it's unnecessary and annoying. You may not resign, Miss Blair. Run along, now."
"If she's offering, the optics-"
"Look, I know you two think I'm being sentimental and stubborn, and okay, those are in there. Not the least of which because I don't appreciate the idea of total strangers dictating the lives of the people I choose to surround myself with."
"You mean the voters, sir?" Leo offered.
"Pipe down," Bartlet intoned. "The main reason, if you are so determined to drag it from me young lady, is this: I do not think he would handle your departure very well."
Leo snorted. "Who, Toby? Not at all."
Addy looked over at him in surprise before she remembered a vague comment from Toby about Leo being 'in the know, now.'
"He didn't tell you?"
"He did," she answered Leo. "I just forgot." She had. Leo McGarry was in on a major secret in her life, and she'd forgotten that fact completely. It was one thing for her heart to move on, but it was something else for her mind to give up its previously obsessive grip.
"As I was saying, it's not altruistic, not totally. I think with you gone, Toby would be distracted and irritable, dialed up to eleven, and this is a delicate time. I like you, but I need him," the President said.
"I know exactly what that's like," Addy smiled, offering a helpless little shrug. "Conversations I never expected to have in the Oval Office! The offer stands, sir, whenever you need to take it."
"I won't," Bartlet smiled. Addy heard the two men pick up another subject as she walked toward the door, but as soon as she touched the handle, she heard her name again. "Oh, Addy, before I forget."
She turned around and clasped her hands in front of her respectfully. "Yes, sir?"
"I want you to take the speech I'll be giving at the Turkey pardoning, this year. I'll have someone send over the policy stuff I want included. That first one you did, where it looked like I kept losing my train of thought? I liked that, it's a good tone for this one."
"Yes sir, thank you," she said, surprised and excited.
"And keep it from Toby as long as you can, will you? I'm ticked off at him, and this is the best I've got." Bartlet sounded grim.
Addy bit her lip, afraid to walk farther into the room to get a better look at his expression, but more afraid to be misjudging his demeanor.
"Oh, give it a rest, it's not like he wouldn't rather have kept that note," Leo said to the President in exasperation. "That's all, thanks, Addy."
She didn't wait around to see if there was a rebuttal to that.