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Jane Harper RATING: R for language SYNOPSIS: The morning after the night before. Occurs several weeks after "Tentative Duet". ARCHIVE: Help yourself. HTML version available on request. DISCLAIMER: This world belongs to Aaron Sorkin; I am merely a textual poacher.
Pt. 5 Abbey returned from Africa late on a Monday night. Tuesday morning when Sarah got to the East Wing, there was a hand-carved gazelle on her desk with a note attached: "Come see me. Abbey." *Golly, I wonder what she wants to talk about,* she thought. She hit the speed-dial for Sally's extension. "Hi Sally, it's Sarah. When will she have a few minutes?" "Her nine o'clock is running late, come on down then." The First Lady was sitting on the sofa in her office when Sarah arrived. Sally closed the door behind her, and after offering tea, Abbey asked, "Sarah, have you completely lost your fucking mind?" "I guess so," she answered. "In this town I guess it's insane to expect that the man I'm sleeping with wouldn't have had the FBI check up on me first." "Is _that_ what this is all about?" "Partly." Sarah put her teacup down. "No, entirely. It's entirely and completely about trust. I let him in, Abbey. I let him in places where nobody had been for years. Do you know-- Well, no, you wouldn't-- Nobody but my doctors had seen me naked since..." She waved her hand over her legs. "... since _this_. That was _five years ago_." "Well let me tell you a few things about this man, the one you're not sure you can trust." Abbey stood and walked over toward her desk, picked up her phone and punched a button. "Sally, hold my calls for a few minutes, and when my nine arrives, make them comfortable until we're done here." She picked a folder up off her desk and returned to the sofa. "I've known Leo since before Jed and I were married. We met at a mixer the year after I came to Wellesley; Jed was at Harvard, Leo was at B.C. He crashed the mixer because he was a snotty Irish kid on a scholarship and that's what Boston micks did, mess with the Ivy Leaguers and try to seduce the debutantes. He put himself through B.C., did U Mass on the GI Bill, and graduated Law Review. "He went to Vietnam between B. C. and law school, because he wanted to fly instead of winding up being a JAG scut-puppy processing Section 8 discharges. . He and Jenny married before he went overseas; Jed was his best man. He was shot down -- twice -- and won the Purple Heart and the Distinguished Service Cross with clusters. The second time he was shot down he got captured and had to take two guys out with bungee sticks to get away; he was in the jungle a week before our guys found him. He was fine through law school, but afterward he did what so many of our generation did when they came home -- he drank. "He started in local Boston politics, settled down, he and Jenny had Mallory, then a beautiful boy; Sean Charles McGarry, they called him. When Sean was five, he and Jenny were out shopping, he got away from her and was killed by a drunk driver." Abbey tossed the folder down on the end table and photos of the accident spilled out: a towheaded child with the face of an angel, limbs askew, neck twisted and clothes torn. "Leo and Jenny were both deeply changed: she got depressed, he got recovery. Mallory was too young to understand. He threw himself into his work, and you more or less know the rest of the story. "He was married to Jenny for thirty-two years. Drunk or sober, stoned or straight, he never even _looked_ at another woman. God knows he had the chances; as far as I know he never took them, and Jed says the same. He was as devoted to her as I've ever seen one man be, but ultimately -- and I know this sounds corny beyond belief -- it came down to his wife or his country. _This_ is the man who asked the FBI to check you out before he trusted you with information that could bring down a sitting President." Sarah sat, stunned and silent. After a minute, she took a deep breath. "Abbey, I don't know what to say." "Say you won't put him in that position again, having to choose between love and principle. He may not have put the words together yet, Sarah, but he knows you're a keeper -- at least, he's acting like it. "He also knows you're not sure if you can trust him. He's already trusted you. If you care about him at all, don't make him sorry." Sally knocked lightly on the door. "Your nine o'clock is here." As Abbey got up to walk Sarah out, she put a hand on her shoulder. "Leo has no idea I shared any of this information with you, although it's all more or less a matter of public record. Handle him gently, Sarah. There is a limit to his strength." Then she smiled and added, "And, by the way, no matter how this works out, you owe poor Margaret a lot because she's taking the brunt of all the frustration he's afraid to aim at you." She wheeled herself out of the First Lady's office and back down to her own. Then she picked up the phone and hit a speed-dial key. "Janeane, is there any chance that the Vice President could find a few minutes for me today?" * * * * * It was much later before Sarah could get to see Hoynes, who was having dinner at his desk when she arrived. "You hungry?" he asked, waving a sandwich. "I can get you something--" "No thanks, Mr. Vice President." "What can I do for you, then? I hope you haven't changed your mind about coming over to help us." "No sir, but I want you to know what you're getting before either of us go any further." "Okay." Hoynes came out from behind his desk and walked over to the sofa, motioning for Sarah to pull up next to the table. He leaned back and unbuttoned his coat. She leaned forward a little and went on. "Remember that particular... sensitivity you wanted me to exercise as part of my job?" "The bullshit detector? Yeah." He smiled. "Tell me it's gone off already." "Yes, sir. You see, some of my friends across the street are trying to convince me that I shouldn't come over here. They say you're playing me because I'm friends with Leo McGarry. "What they may not be aware of is the other relationship that the three of us all share. The one that makes it impossible for them to be right." "You mean the one with Mr. Wilson?" "Yes, sir. I'm well aware that scrupulous honesty isn't a currency valued highly inside the Beltway, but you and I -- and Mr. McGarry -- all know that it has to be for us." She leaned away from the Vice President, seeming to relax. "So you tell me, sir, when should my bullshit detector be going off, at the Card Game or when I'm talking to my paranoid friends across the way?" Hoynes smiled but his face saddened. "I'm too well aware, Sarah, that most of the President's staff doesn't trust me as far as they could shot-put the Jefferson Memorial, but I can't let that dictate the way I run this office, or the personnel choices I make. I didn't offer you this job because you're sleeping with Leo, regardless of what anyone has told you. I want you here because you can help me do what needs to be done. And I would have expected no less than this conversation from you; it only confirms that I made the right decision in bringing you on board." Sarah heaved a small sigh of relief. "Mr. Vice President, would you be willing to repeat that at the Card Game Thursday night? Unless you and I can intervene, it's coming down to a choice between my relationship with him and my loyalty to this office, and I have to say, sir, that he was here first." She smiled at Hoynes and folded her hands in her lap. "Prior commitments have to be honored," he responded. "Why don't the three of us sit down after the Card Game and iron this all out?" "Thank you, Mr. Vice President. I'll see you Thursday night, then." *One down,* she said to herself as she headed for the door, *two to go.* * * * * * Sarah went back over to the East Wing and began packing the things in her office. There wasn't much, just some small pieces of Armenian pottery, a couple of books, a bowl of fruit, a stuffed rabbit. As she was getting ready to leave, she decided to take a chance and called Leo's private office number. "Yeah?" He sounded tired. "Hi." "Oh, hi." "You busy?" she asked. "Not very. Why?" "I'm on my way out of the building, I thought I might stop by." She held her breath as he hesitated. "OK. See you in a couple of minutes." He hung up. When she reached the West Wing, Josh was poring over the late wires. "Hey," he said. "Hey yourself. Leo in?" "Yeah but he's not alone. He sure has been in a lousy mood lately. You know anything about that?" he asked nonchalantly. "Yeah, it's at least partly my fault. Hey listen, can we talk a second?" "Sure, c'mon in." They went into his office. He closed the door and leaned up against the front of the desk. "What's up?" "Josh, you know John Hoynes better than anybody else here. Do _you_ think he's playing me?" Lyman's was the one opinion she'd trust to be more informed by experience than by testosterone. "To be honest, I don't think he's stupid enough to be that obvious. I mean, you may have just come into town on the turnip truck, but there are lots of us here who haven't, and who know you, and who know Leo, and who'd warn you and kick him if any such thing even _looked_ like it was happening." He grinned. "I, for one, would take particular pleasure in banging the gong." "Sam and Toby both think I'm getting suckered." "Sam just got suckered himself not too many months ago, and he's still smarting over it. Toby... well, he's a paranoid by inclination as well as by profession." He stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. "Listen, I'd love to chat, but I've got two weeks worth of work to do in the next two days." "I can take a hint," Sarah responded, heading for the door. As she closed it behind her, she turned briefly and said, "Call me before the holidays, ok? I miss our midnight talks, and besides, I have a Hanukkah present for you." The door to Leo's office was open, so she rolled right in to find Abbey sitting on the sofa with her shoes off and her feet up on the table. "We've got to stop meeting like this," she said to Sarah with a wink. "Uh huh," Leo shot back, "I've heard about you two talking behind my back. What's she been telling you about me?" He grinned at the two women impishly. "I told her everything, Leo," Abbey said with a serious face. "Everything." He took off his reading glasses and put them down on the desk. "Everything?" "Yep. Well, except about that panty raid you got arrested for..." "Still got the panties," he said. "Keep 'em in my safety deposit box." At that the President wandered in through the connecting door. "Say, are you two going to make up, or do I have to haul you off to Camp David for negotiations?" Leo cast a cautious eye at Sarah. "I don't know, sir. This might take some shuttle diplomacy." "Well?" Bartlet said to her. "Mr. President, I couldn't possibly stay angry at a decorated veteran with thirty-five year old panties in his safe deposit box." "Hey," Leo shrugged, "it's not the years, it's the mileage." Abbey laughed as she got up and headed for her husband's office, carrying her shoes. "I thought that was, 'we're not getting older, we're getting better'." As she passed the President, she grabbed the end of his tie with her free hand. "Come on, let's go play slap and tickle and let these two alone." "Take you home?" McGarry asked. "I've got--" "I know, you've got your guy. There's something I want to say first." "OK," he responded, packing up his briefcase. "I'm still not sure this is a good idea," she began. "OK." "You're a mick, I'm a yid." "Yeah." "I'm a pinko commie hippie freak, you're a fascist bomb-dropping warmonger." Leo began to smile. "OK..." "You're New England, I'm California" "Uh-huh..." "You made forty thousand a night, I made forty thousand a year." "You finished yet?" He was grinning ear to ear. "Lemme think... I know there are more..." "Come on, babe," he said as he passed her to open the door. "Let's go home."
EPILOGUE Two figures sat in the street-side living room window of Leo McGarry's new apartment. The sun had barely set and the streetlights were making the crisp new snow glimmer like crystal. Sarah covered her hair with a kerchief, sang a short blessing, and lit the leftmost candle of the menorah. "Chag sameach," she said to Leo as she gave him a soft kiss. "Gesundheit," he said. "It means 'happy holiday', you shaygetz." "Call me shaygetz again and I won't give you your present." "Fine!" Sarah shot back. "If you don't give me my present, I won't--" The doorbell rang. "Saved by the bell," Leo said. He got up and opened the door; it was Sam and Mallory. "Hi Mom!" Sam called out. "What's for dinner?" "You know," Mallory said, "Sam calls you Mom, and you're with my Dad... there's something vaguely sleazy going on here." "Well, we're safe as long as it's only _vaguely_ sleazy," Leo responded. Then the doorbell rang again. "Were we expecting anybody else?" Sarah asked. "I wasn't," came three responses. "Well maybe somebody should go see who it is?" Sarah crossed the living room and opened the door. Enter Josh and Donna, followed by Toby, CJ, and armloads of presents. "What the hell is this?" Leo asked. "It's your housewarming," CJ answered. "We knew you'd never get around to having one, so we brought one with us! Who's got the cider?" Mallory and Sarah shuttled the gifts from the new arrivals to the dining room table. As the last one was piled on, the younger woman said, "You know, I never really apologized for how nasty I was to you a while back. I stopped being angry when I saw how miserable Dad was when you two were fighting. He really cares about you, Sarah -- and I'm glad he does." "You don't know how much that means to me," Sarah answered. Leo slid one arm around each of them. "No, but I do." Sam turned toward the dining room. "Hey, can we do the warm fuzzy Andy Hardy thing _later_? I'm hungry!" --
The End
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