Note: Cinematic life of mine keeps on trucking, but I really wanted to get these two chapters out for those who I know have been waiting! MCU stuff in the works for anyone worried I've stopped writing it!

And If That Fails

"We're, uh, going to wait at Addy's desk to ask her what's going on, right?" Josh said as soon as Toby and the others left the Oval.

"Oh yeah," Sam said.

"Oh my God, you idiots want to find out who it is, don't you?" CJ gasped.

Josh sidled past her in the hallway to walk next to Sam, sending "Duh!" over his shoulder.

"Isn't Addy's desk out in the open where other people can hear you? How is this a good plan that won't end up with one or both of them asked to resign?"

"We just want to make sure she hasn't made a terrible mistake," Toby reasoned.

"Wait, it isn't just us that went to Manchester, right?"

"Doug and Bruno went," Sam answered Josh, making a face afterwards.

"Leo was also there, can I watch you ask him if he's got a new girlfriend or can we all get back to work?" Toby bluffed, looking from face to face before speeding up to head back to his office. Everything was deteriorating far more quickly than he'd anticipated.

8888888888

Lunch wasn't as bad as Addy had been expecting. Only Donna and Margaret knew definitively that she was the mystery woman, and few other staffers had attended the Dinner.

"I've always wanted to know, who decides what to leak to CJ or the White House ahead of publication? I mean, doesn't that just give you guys the chance to refute or get ahead of whatever it is?" Donna asked her, gesturing dangerously with her drippy yogurt spoon.

"Sure, if you want a hostile press room." Addy set down her soda and pulled out a receipt from her blazer pocket, folding it in half before holding it out like she was about to hand it over. "Okay, say you've got a story and you know the White House won't like it, but if you don't report it, someone else will. That's variable, though. Sometimes there's a huge amount of work involved to investigate, but we'll just say it's something like the secret romance story. You have a source, you trust the source, and you're a day away from publishing. There's a choice: you could say nothing and observe the White House's reaction in real time with everyone else, or you could leak some of it to them and maybe get a comment that lends legitimacy to the story. It's your risk to take."

"So you're saying that if I go ahead and publish, I might make the communications team mad, and they'll, what? Punish me? That's literally against the Constitution!" Donna protested, glaring at the receipt.

"It's not that simple. Think of it more like, you don't get the exclusive when it turns out the President is thinking about curing cancer, and he asks some other publication to interview him as part of the launch initiative." Addy shook the hand holding the paper.

Donna crossed her arms. "I'm already eyeing regulatory agencies."

"Okay, set that angle aside for now, let's focus on the benefits for you. After all, you're smart as hell, you've got credentials for the White House Press Room, after all. If you give CJ the story early, you're going to be able to see her face when you tell her what's up. That's information no one else has. If you see her rush to call up Toby afterwards, that could signal a need for damage control." Addy set the receipt down next to Donna's plate. "What if an hour later, CJ asks you to come to her office, and she offers you some kind of deal to delay the story for a day. The things you learn about their machinations behind the scenes during that day could feed you more data for a follow-up story." To illustrate her point, Addy took an Andes Candies mint out of her pocket and set it on top of the folded receipt.

Donna snatched up the candy, unwrapped it, and bit it in half. "So it's strategic?"

"Absolutely. And with this one, it's somewhat of a civic duty thing, too. The leaker basically couldn't be anyone but a Secret Service agent. What if in the time between printing and distributing the first copies of that article, someone with a huge wallet and an agenda ferrets out the agent and offers them money to do one last thing before they're out on their ass?"

As she said the words, Addy shivered. Something told her that Leo's demeanor of 'mild irritation' about the story had been a front for some serious behind the scenes stuff, things so secret that only he, Ron Butterfield, and the President knew what happened.

"What's going on?" Donna asked. Addy dragged herself out of her worry spiral to look up. A crowd was starting to gather around one of the televisions in the mess, but no one was actually looking at the screen anymore, just excitedly muttering amongst themselves, sometimes pointing back at it.

"I don't know," Addy said. She guessed she was done enough to throw away her trash, so she started to consolidate everything the way Donna already had.

"Excuse me?" someone said behind her.

"Hmm?" Addy turned, and as soon as she faced the person, their eyes widened.

"The braid!" he said loudly.

"What?"

"Addy? Upstairs, now," Donna said, rushing over from one knot of people who were watching them avidly.

"What on Earth is-"

"Some show is doing a special. They have footage to go with that transcript, but they've blurred out the man," Donna hissed at her, having linked arms and whisked her away from the dining area. "Someone's matched your clothes in the blurry footage with a clearer image of you setting up, at the venue-"

Addy interrupted, "-and one thirty-something woman might look like another, but my braid…"

"We need Toby."

"Not CJ?" Addy protested. She hadn't seen the so-called blurry footage, but if their body language was similar enough, and she and Toby were seen together, it might make it easier to unmask him.

"No. This is attack dog territory," Donna said firmly.

8888888888

The folder for the Thanksgiving remarks was gone from his desk, which was very strange. Toby was just about to call for Bonnie in confusion when Donna Moss came barging through his half-open door with Addy in tow.

"Huston, we have a problem!" Donna announced.

"Texas is that way," Toby said, pointing southwest. Had she chosen that particular joke because of David, or was she just being Donna?

"Donna, maybe don't use that phrase to the guy whose brother is an astronaut?" Addy hissed.

Immediately, he sat up, concerned. Her expression was pinched, fearful. "What happened?"

"Manchester surveillance video. The guy's blurred, but Addy's not, and it's not an article or a news show, Toby. It's one of those tabloid trash shows. They bought ad space on CNN."

Toby stood, but it felt like he left most of his internal organs on the chair. "When?"

"Tomorrow night," Addy said. "It's noon, they'll be running those ads for thirty-odd hours, ramping up the-"

"You should go home now, before anyone starts showing up there," Donna interrupted. It happened that the blonde was faced away from him, so Toby mouthed 'absolutely not' at Addy, who was standing completely still with her arms wrapped around herself like she was alone in a blizzard.

"My apartment's- God, not a great setup for avoiding the press. Someone important owes me an 'I told you so' about that," she sighed, stroking her braid. A second later she let her hand fall and said, "Actually, maybe we can head this off. Toby, can you call ahead to Oliver Babish's office?"

The suggestion pegged as odd to Donna, Toby saw, but he figured out what Addy's angle was right away: the footage was either Josiah Bartlet's private property, or it belonged to the Secret Service Agency themselves, and might be subject to a FOIA request. If the former, Babish could help facilitate a Cease and Desist. If the latter, Toby could ask around to see if anyone had submitted a FOIA request for the footage.

Either way, Babish's office was out of the way of the press, and that was an advantage for her right now.

He picked up his phone and called Bonnie, instead of yelling for her. Donna and Addy were still arguing good-naturedly over on his couch.

"-told you, it's not about me, it's about the President!" Addy was saying.

"Well you should worry about you! Is the guy worried about you?"

"Definitely," Addy said, looking down at the floor. Toby flipped through the book of numbers to find Babish and tried not to look like he was listening. "He's probably going to be a complete bear about where I sleep tonight, actually. Not sure I'm looking forward to it."

"Stay with me!" Donna lit up. "No, really, we can get take-out, do a facial deep cleanser, and paint our nails!"

"Famously something Addy is interested in," Toby couldn't help snarking.

"I think you're trying to imply that I'm too serious for those things, but if not, ouch," she said, her brown eyes twinkling from over on the couch.

Toby wanted to warn her to be careful, but he couldn't look away. He recognized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth- he'd implied she wasn't interested in beauty routines, thus possibly implying that the absence of such things were noticeable -but the truth was, he'd have definitely said that to CJ or Sam, so it was hard to feel repentant.

If she pointed it out, though, would that hint at something going on between them?

"I was saying," Addy was interrupting something Donna had said that he'd missed; "-that for all you know, Ziegler, those could be code for serious work things."

"They aren't, but if they were, good luck explaining that in your depositions." He schooled his face into a half-scowl and pointed to the door. "Get going, I'm about to call the Counsel's office."

"Oh, god. Can I hide in a broom closet instead, or something?" she asked nervously as she stood up.

"Are there broom closets? Do you know that because you've kissed your staffer boyfriend inside one?" Donna asked, wide-eyed.

"Did my office suddenly become a shooting stage for Entertainment Weekly? Get out!" Toby hollered.

"We're going!" Donna elbowed Addy to get her moving toward the door, saying, oddly, "This is officially not a nudge, just so we're clear."

"Thank goodness for small favors!" Addy responded in a choking voice that sounded almost like she was holding back a laugh. She didn't look back at him, and he punched in the number for Oliver Babish as soon as the two women were out of sight.

8888888888

Addy dropped Donna off at her desk and made her way along the convoluted path to get to the White House Counsel's office. There was a kind of manic, almost hysterical laughter buried under the surface of her composure, waiting for someone to challenge her sanity.

She really, really hoped that person wasn't Babish.

When she got to the right place, Addy squared her shoulders and walked up to the secretary.

"Excuse me," she said politely. "I think Mr. Ziegler may have called ahead? I'd like to speak with Mr. Babish, if that's possible."

"Oh, he called ahead," the woman said, sounding frazzled.

Addy's heart sank. "Oh dear, I'm belatedly sorry for whatever- I mean, he can be a little blunt-"

"That's a term for it. You can go in."

"Uh, thank you, and again, very sorry," she said. As soon as she made it to the door, though, Addy worried that she'd made too much of the apology. After all, there was no way she was in a position to apologize on behalf of the White House Communications Director! Her responses were driven by a need to excuse a loved one's extreme behavior, and that instinct was going to get them both fired.

"Come!" Babish responded, when she'd gotten enough gumption to tap.

Addy walked in and was immediately five times more intimidated. Somehow, Oliver Babish's office was every bit as ornate or maybe more so than Leo's! The man was seated at his desk with a look of deep suspicion on his face.

"Good afternoon, sir, my name is Addy Blair, I'm here on behalf of- or, rather, I think Mr. Ziegler called ahead. Did he speak with you?"

"Have a seat," the lawyer said. He looked her up and down, scratching at the side of his temple before setting that hand down flat on the desk with a little thump. "Here's the thing: there's a high percent chance that Ziegler just wanted you out of his office. It's a long walk down here, as you probably noticed, and it's my professional guess that he was hoping you'd have calmed down from whatever it is you were worried about by the time you walked down here and got sent back."

He sounded apologetic, but not that apologetic, Addy noticed. There was a broad swath of condescension, too, and the combination meant she was going to need to use all of her skills in diplomacy.

Her silence earned her a bushy eyebrow lift, and Addy decided that 'diplomacy' wasn't enough. This man needed sass.

"Do you want me out of your office, Mr. Babish?"

He sat back in his chair with a hint of a smile and a look of surprised respect in his eyes, but what he said was, "I'm not looking to chase you out with a broom, or anything. I just don't think I can help you."

Addy knew she needed to press this advantage with a smooth rebuttal, but her anxiety was through the roof. "Try me?"

That got his attention. "Did my assistant suggest you say that?"

"No, I just went for a modicum of words on pure instinct."

"All right, I'll admit to being intrigued by language use alone. Go on," he said, steepling his fingers and resting them against his lips.

Extemporaneous speaking had always been a sticky spot for her, and Addy realized she should have been composing something as she walked over. It was too late now!

"I am engaged in a clandestine relationship with a fellow staffer, a fact that has become known to a member of the press, thanks to a source who also works at the White House," she said.

"Salacious, but not my area."

"The source is almost certainly a Secret Service Agent who recently resigned." Babish tipped his head to the side and gestured for her to continue. "His initial source was surveillance video obtained from the President's private residence in Manchester." Addy stopped to take a breath, bolstered by the way Babish's thick eyebrows lifted in surprise. "One of my questions is whether that is considered the President's personal property, or the government's."

"There are many factors that determine that, but for now, I don't see anything that I can legally-"

"What if the footage is about to be aired on a tabloid-esque evening show tomorrow night? With teaser clips on CNN?" she interrupted.

"Miss Blair, you seem like a very nice person. I'm sorry this is happening to you, but unless there's more you haven't told me, my hands are tied." His tone sounded weary, but there was a small spark of something in his eyes. Addy was certain he knew she was holding back.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"The President may be in the footage."

Babish stood up. "Please do not tell me the person you're engaged in an affair with is President Bartlet!"

Addy pulled in a breath. She let it out. In those few seconds, Oliver Babish nearly caught fire.

She folded her hands in her lap so she could stop them from shaking, and said, "It is not the President. He walked into the barn while the staffer and I were kissing, and expressed approval of the relationship. Footage from just minutes before has been played as a teaser for the gossip show. They've blurred the man out, but not my distinctive hairstyle. What I want to know, Mr. Babish, is whether the President has grounds to prevent that moment from appearing on the show, whether by claiming ownership of the footage or breach of confidentiality." As she spoke, Babish sank back into his seat, but when he opened his mouth to interrupt, she lifted a hand. "I'm not asking for advice for myself, sir. It's just that the President's legal liability may overlap with mine, and I was lucky enough to be able to come down here and bring it up."

She watched multiple expressions cross Babish's face until his eyes went wide.

"Holy shit. It's Toby, isn't it?"

Addy was completely unprepared for that reaction.

"O-on advice from the Chief of Staff, I don't answer those kinds of questions," she stammered.

Babish looked at her with a fatherly kind of disappointment. "I can't believe you haven't practiced your answer to that!"

She drew herself up in her chair. "What I can't believe is that anyone working for President Bartlet could betray his trust so thoroughly! I think initially, this person thought they could exploit our relationship as something hopeful, a way to humanize the President during a moment where he made a compassionate choice rather than a political one. But anyone who spends any time around Bartlet should know that he values his privacy and the office of the Presidency itself a great deal. This person allowed their judgment to be clouded by greed and a need to prove that they were telling the truth, and as a result, he's lost his job, his reputation, and the respect of his employer." Addy looked down, unable to focus on the bookcase behind Oliver Babish's head anymore. "I hate that I have anything to do with it, Mr. Babish. The President doesn't deserve to be mixed up in another scandal that has to do with keeping secrets. If there's anything we can do to prevent his role in this from coming out, I'd really appreciate it."

Addy bit her lip, suppressing the urge to speak further. She'd already taken up way too much of his time as it was. Tentatively, she lifted her gaze up from her hands to the lawyer's face, finding his brows furrowed.

"You practiced that speech, but not the answer to-"

"I didn't!" she blurted out, surprised. "I was just- That was-"

"The passion of true love," Babish interrupted, sounding only slightly derisive. "Ziegler'd lay his heart at your feet if you can be that poetic off the cuff."

With a huge sigh, he got up and looked up at the ceiling, shoving his hands into his pockets like they'd betray his inner turmoil otherwise. Addy held her tongue, both touched and overwhelmed by his remark about Toby.

Finally, he stopped behind her. "All right, here's what I want you to do: assume every conversation you hold can be overheard. Even among friends, even in a closed-door office in the West Wing. Nod your head."

Addy was awkwardly turned in her chair to look at him, and she nodded. It was elementary as a concept, and yet still one she'd failed to heed. Unbidden, the number of careless conversations (and the kiss in CJ's office!) flooded her mind, building up a surge of regret that clotted in her throat to prevent her breathing.

She was brought back to reality by Babish snapping his fingers mere inches from her nose.

"Worry about all of that tonight. Which you'll spend at a friend's house, yes?" His tone brooked no argument.

"Already arranged, yes."

"Good. Now, it's my private, non-lawyer opinion that this show has zero intentions of actually airing the program. This is political, behind-the-scenes pressure, meant to heighten a pre-existing article that will likely come out this evening in one of the major publications."

Addy opened her mouth to mention her gaffe with Concannon, but was waved off.

"Don't tell me. I need to shift to Bartlet, but that's going to be tricky, not that you knew that when you showed up. Toby probably should have known better, but it is what it is." Babish closed his eyes a second, clearly thinking, and when he opened them again, he moved swiftly to his desk, pulling over a sheet of paper and scribbling furiously on it. After ninety tense seconds, he folded it up and put it in an envelope, holding it out to her between the first two fingers of his outstretched hand. "Take this, tuck it away, and give it to Leo. It makes sense that you'd head to his office after coming here."

His phone trilled a tone that wasn't quite a ring, but commanded attention anyway.

"That's my cue," Addy said, opening her suit jacket and placing the envelope inside the inner pocket. At his preoccupied nod, she headed for the door. It felt like she'd learned a lot and nothing, all at the same time- and now she was being sent to Leo of all people, to tell her what to do next.

Working at the White House was certainly not boring, but not for any of the expected reasons.

"Ms. Blair?" Babish called out, just as she got to the door.

She wondered whether he'd learned that from Bartlet. "Yes?" Addy said, turning."I read all of those articles. As a citizen, they're working as intended. I'm curious, I'm charmed, I am rooting for the two of you. Now, get the hell out of my office, I had a full week before any of this happened."