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As You Were (139 words) by JC
He often wonders when it changed. After Rosslyn? The MS announcement? His father's confessions?
Perhaps before then... No. Before, he had a career, an almost wife, a life.
That's not true, he reminds himself. You never truly had any of those things.
He can barely remember who he was before.
His ideals. His beliefs. They're still there, right? Somewhere? Somewhere hidden, obstructed, lost in the pile of papers on his desk.
He feels different, tired, useless. Inane, just like the files on his desk. Busy Work.
He tries to find someone to ground him, to remind him of who he once was.
Josh? Josh could remind him of what he lost.
But he can't find the words to ask. And he doesn't know if he wants to be who he was.
If he wants to be that man anymore.
Never Kill a Boy on the First Date (100 words) by Luna
Sam remembers this beach from childhood. Driving waves, seagulls, driven sand. The high wind that makes conversation a struggle.
Will's saying, "--Not my business, I know--"
Sam inhales. Salty air burns in his nose. He leaves footprints where the sand's color darkens. "Yeah."
Will pulls off his glasses. "So I'm not asking."
Sam stops walking, swallows hard, turns. "No, I'm saying...yeah. Yes. I am."
Will's eyes are full of sunlight. He's actually smiling. "I kind of thought."
Sam hates the smile for a moment. The warmth, the unspoken possibility. Then the sand shifts, leaving nothing underfoot but air.
Reptile Boy (100 words) by Luna
Five minutes to the press conference, Sam can't take any more news. No more of the ticker, the clips, the pundits and experts diagnosing the President. On the remote his knuckles are white. He changes the channel.
A blond guy in khakis sneaks up on a black snake coiled under a rock. Sam hears the rain whipping the window behind his head. Nice, to be under a rock, dry, unaware of the truth.
"Sam?" Bonnie, red-eyed, in the doorway: "The cars are here."
He stands. Throws the remote on the desk.
"Remain calm," says the guy on television.
Yeah, right.
Inca Mummy Girl (100 words) by Luna
Wrapped in Egyptian cotton, her face like a landscape under snow, voice muffled: "Turn off the light."
He turns a page in his binder on Kensington Oil. His gaze slips off the lines, topples into the margin.
"Sam..."
If he died tomorrow, was given an Egyptian or an Inca funeral, someday they'd unearth these artifacts from his tomb: a nightstand, a lamp, corporate law texts and Lisa, the white sheet pulled tight around her.
"Turn off the fucking light!"
He closes the binder and obeys. Dreams of Josh, of New Hampshire, while Lisa beside him sleeps still as the dead.
I Robot, You Jane (100 words) by Luna
Josh is beating his chest like Tarzan, and everyone laughs because everyone's drunk. Sam hears himself laugh, too.
"I don't know what I see in him," Amy says, sipping her martini.
He yawns. His legs feel like they can't stand much more; he's breaking down, the gears inside him grinding away his ability to think. Slow and exceeding fucking fine.
He drinks some vodka. Josh lumbers over, grins, holds out a hand to Amy.
"Knuckle-dragger," she says, but she lets him pull her into a dance.
"You see him," Sam mumbles into his glass. He wishes he could switch off.
Where the Wild Things Are (100 words) by Luna
Sam is waved by the bouncer into bright purple light, raw music, a platform just inside where you can observe or pose, where he realizes he looks wrong, too freshly pressed, these guys wear tight jeans, tight T-shirts, dance tightly together, about Sam's age but they make him foolish, babyish, the way he felt in Washington, and now someone comes toward him, tanned skin, shaved head, holding out a beer, and Sam backs up, against the door, he hates this music, he won't find Josh here, he won't find Josh again, he's alone in New York; he takes the drink.
Out of Mind, Out of Sight (100 words) by Kacey Linden
Josh has forgotten something. He thinks.
He could ask Donna, she'd probably know. But he doesn't want to. He can remember on his own. Something, something.
He can't remember.
Something on the edge of his mind, a word, a thing, a name, a face... He can almost... No.
Shaking his head, looking around his office.
He's missing something. He can feel its absence, sometimes.
A face. A voice. He thinks. A touch. He can almost--
Will's head in the doorway: "Toby needs to see you."
Whatever it is, it can't be that important, he decides.
He goes back to work.
Dead Man's Party (100 words) by Kacey Linden
He walks his pulse, slow, dragging. Loud in his ears. His smile, residue, sickly, deteriorating, still there.
It was only four points.
The street ends in shadow, doesn't seem to end at all. The sky is lurid, orange-red, starless.
He wants, suddenly, a cigar. A cigarette. Anything to know the air is there, to know he's still breathing.
It's a setback, not the end.
His hand on his chest, the steady up-down, a dull thud, fingers cold.
Toby's hand on his shoulder, heavy, supportive. "Let's go."
He isn't done yet.
Toby walks his pulse too. Slow. Dragging each other down.
Once More, With Feeling (100 words) by Kacey Linden
It feels right. Not good, but right.
Despite Josh's protests, and CJ's silence, and Toby's almost disapproval.
The air is lighter, he can stand straighter, meet their gazes.
Josh says he doesn't know what he's doing. CJ sits, crosses her legs, her arms. Toby rubs his forehead, looks beleaguered.
A twinge of guilt, but not enough.
Josh tells him all he needs is a vacation. CJ tells Josh to shut up, suggests the same thing. Toby looks at him, says nothing.
That's enough.
"Josh." Voice calm. It's easier than he thought. Easy to say it again: "I'm not coming back."
I Only Have Eyes for You (100 words) by Kacey Linden
Toby watches CJ when they dance--her face, her throat when she laughs, her shoulders--his gaze steady, knowing, insular.
Lisa never did that. He would look down, see only blonde hair. She always looked over his shoulder, elsewhere, for other people.
He wonders how once they could?ve thought...
"Hey."
Familiar hand on his shoulder, familiar voice against his ear.
Too many reasons they'd never work. "Hey."
A short silence, Josh scanning the room, searching for Amy before glancing at him.
"So, how're you doing?"
He looks at Toby and CJ, then he looks at Josh, and he doesn't know.
What's My Line? (100 words) by Kacey Linden
"I need..." He doesn't know what to say, what he expects.
"Sam?" Josh prods after a moment.
He should lie. "Uh..."
There isn't anything Josh can do. It's twenty-eight years of lies, but it's not a problem, it can't be fixed.
"Everything okay?"
He should leave. Josh will just say he's sorry. He doesn't need that.
"Yeah."
He's lying. But there's nothing Josh can do. He should turn around and suck it up.
"No."
Josh gestures at a chair. "What's up?"
He doesn't know how to start.
"It's all right," Josh tells him.
And he thinks that's what he needed.
Checkpoint (100 words) by Kacey Linden
"What're we doing here, Josh?"
Always the same question. Someday, soon, he's afraid Sam will say "I."
"I don't know," he admits. Sam is staring at him. "I'm sorry."
Sam shifts his gaze to the ceiling.
He thinks this is it, this is when Sam leaves, this is when Sam tells him to go to hell.
He has to say something, he has to ?
"Bartlet's the real thing?" Sam asks.
He saw it in New Hampshire. He knows he did. "Yes."
Someday, he thinks, his word will stop being enough for Sam.
"Okay then." There's no uncertainty in Sam's voice.
The Harsh Light of Day (100 words) by Kacey Linden
"Hey, wait up."
Josh in the hallway, eyes averted, pressing against the wall, away from him.
And it's so obvious, it's so fucking obvious, he can't believe Toby doesn't see it.
"We need to talk."
Josh nods, looks at the door. "Sure."
Toby glances at him, at Josh. "I'll be in my office." Leaving them alone.
"About last night -- I, I'm not -- " Josh looks at the carpet. "Sorry."
I know, he wants to say. I get it. Because he does.
But he can't hold on to the words long enough to say them, and Josh is already walking away.
Hush (100 words) by Kacey Linden
Josh never said good-bye.
He wants this. "I don't--" He isn't like this, not always.
A kiss, tentative, less tentative, leaning into him.
Josh stood beside him, silent, unreachable.
He pushes back. "I'm not--" He stops. Because he is. "I just think--"
Eyes, level with his, close, dark.
He could've said something. If he'd had anything to say.
Fingertips against his chest, quick, certain. Unfamiliar.
"Don't think."
Josh kissed him, once, hard, and left.
"Shhhh..."
Lips, dry against his, moving, a murmur.
"Let's just..."
He watched Josh leave.
Hands, warm, palms flat against his skin.
"...talk later."
Prophecy Girl (100 words) by Kacey Linden
Lisa watches him pack, sitting on the bed, curious or indifferent.
He thought there'd be something. Maybe not a fight, or an argument, but something. Disappointment, maybe.
She hands him things from their night-table. Spare glasses, paperback, vitamins.
But she nodded, shrugged. She even smiled.
She looks at their open closet, his clothes still hanging beside hers.
She said she thought he would, someday.
She reaches across, snaps one clasp shut.
He listened for bitterness in her tone, but he couldn't find it.
"He'll never make you happy," she says.
He doesn't want to tell her she's already wrong.
Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered (100 words) by Kacey Linden
He likes her. He likes looking at her, being near her. Her legs go all the way down to the ground.
Sam shakes his head, sips his beer. "She said that."
She did. Her nose twitches when she talks. He likes listening to her, so familiar, like moving backwards, before... before everything.
Sam rolls his eyes, crumples a napkin. "The simple life, huh?"
She is. Yes. Maybe. She could be.
Sam smiles, and it almost looks real. "You're ensorcelled."
Good word, but it's not quite--
Sam shrugs. "I say go for it."
But somehow, those aren't the right words either.
Sleeper (100 words) by Kacey Linden
He lies on his back, listens to the dark, the silence of his apartment, distant traffic, sirens, and Josh's breathing, soft, slow, steady, Josh's body unmoving in slumber, curled on his side, a mound under blankets, his blankets, warm, he burrows down, turns his head, watches Josh's face, lit by the streetlamps, mostly in shadow, relaxed, unguarded, he doesn't need to look, he knows, he knows the feel of Josh's skin, when Josh is near, pressed against him, hot, smooth, tense, he reaches out, fingers grazing Josh's forehead, light, cool, and soft, don't wake him, don't--
Josh opens his eyes.
Lies My Parents Told Me (100 words) by Priya
Mr. Seaborn the Elder sounded tinny on the phone. "I love you, son. I love you, very much. I hope this won't change us."
"Yeah," Sam chirped before hanging up. Usually, he'd say something like, Love you too, or if he had company around, Right back at ya Dad. Except, sitting in his office at 2:37 PM on a sunny weekday afternoon, he couldn't really remember the normal everyday niceties anymore. He was too busy wondering whether his dad who loved him so very much had missed his going off to Senior Prom because of work, or an impromptu blowjob.
Buffy vs. Dracula (100 words) by Priya
One of Lisa's parties. Costumed, tonight; she'd said they'd be a monster couple, and when she'd given him his outfit, he hadn't the heart to tell her Dracula and Frankenstein's bride weren't an item.
Now, she's chatting with a woman called Buffy, age 40-going-on-22 in a cat suit, and Sam can't think of anyone he's known called "Buffy." He's awkward by the potted plant she'd left him by, figuring the name's a magazine biz thing.
Lisa glances his way; he smiles, she walks away with the model. Sam idly wonders if Frankenstein's bride is better paired with Buffy than Dracula.
Beer Bad (100 words) by Priya
Distracted, Sam opened Josh's office door at midnight.
"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine," Josh sighed.
Sam took one look at the half empty beer bottle on Josh's desk, sitting next to one of the many pieces of legislation they were trying to push, and he said, "Donna needs to keep you on a tighter leash. Also, and I hate having to break this to you, I'm not a woman, Josh."
"Yeah," Josh said with a grin. "But you'd sure look pretty in a dress."
Sam backed out, slowly.
The Yoko Factor (100 words) by Emerald Green
"You coming over to watch the game tonight?" He already knows the answer, but he asks anyway.
"That's tonight?"
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry, I forgot. I have plans with Amy."
That's a big surprise. "Of course. Well, next time."
"Yeah. I promised her-"
"It's fine." He doesn't want to hear about promises.
"You don't like her much, do you?"
"I don't know her that well." I don't like you much when she's around.
"We should all go out. You just need to get to know her."
He knows enough. It's easier to blame her if he doesn't know her. "Yeah, sure."
Two to Go (100 words) by Emerald Green
He should have told them first: his best friend and his boss. But it was easier to start with the others, so he couldn't back out. No one seemed particularly surprised. Just asked if he had talked to Josh and Toby.
Maybe he should tell them together, get it over with at once. There would be yelling and questions. There would be silence.
What if he changed his mind?
He couldn't give himself that time.
He found both in Josh's office, stood there, waited for them to notice. This was the right thing. He wasn't abandoning them, just moving forward.
Doppelgangland (100 words) by Emerald Green
Their eyes dart back and forth--the TV screen, him, the TV, him--back, forth, clearly shocked. And he can't blame them. Because the picture looks exactly like him.
Except of course it's not. Because no one in their right mind would agree to run for Congress in place of a dead man, not without telling anyone. So of course it can't be him. It only looks like him. Of course.
Briefly, he wonders if he can convince anyone of this fact, but he doesn't think they'll believe it. Because this is exactly the kind of thing he would do.
The Puppet Show (100 words) by Emerald Green
Listening to them strategize about his next move, he wonders if he even needs to be here. They don't listen to him. They nod, then they tell him where to go, what to say, how to smile, which way to turn, when to stand still, when to move on.
And he says the words, and he hopes they're right, but he doesn't believe any of it, doesn't believe any of them.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. This wasn't why he agreed to run. He thought he could make a difference.
But they have everything under control, even him.
As You Were (100 words) by Emerald Green
Josh is on the phone when he enters, so he stands by the door, waits for him to finish. "Hey."
"So, this is it."
"It's not like I'm going away forever. It's just until after the election." It shouldn't be this awkward or feel this permanent. "You won't even have time to miss me."
"Yeah."
"I should go. I have a plane to catch."
"And I have a government to run."
"So, I'll see you later then."
"Yeah. Take care."
"You too." When he turns back to look, Josh is already on the phone again, like he'd never been interrupted.
Graduation Day (100 words) by Emerald Green
Don't panic. There was a logical explanation, this was a joke, to get back at him for not mentioning his promise to Kay Wilde. "You offered my job to Will?"
"And he accepted."
"I don't remember resigning." Sure, things were hectic lately, but he would have remembered that.
"You didn't."
Stay calm. Any minute this will make sense. "Okay."
"You got promoted. Senior advisor to the president."
"Which means what?" Besides the fact that he'd lost his job while he was away.
"It's time, you're ready."
"Okay." Now he was confused, because apparently losing his job was a good thing.
Storyteller (99 words) by Angela
They met when Sam was 14, and it was love at first sight.? Sam and Charles Dickens became inseparable.? He ate with a copy of David
Copperfield opened beside him.? He slept with a copy of Oliver Twist open on his lap.? He refused to read A Tale of Two Cities in public, because Sydney Carton's sacrifice made him cry, and he was called sissy enough times.? He lacked the talent to bring characters to
life, the way his hero did.? Instead, he found his niche with words lay in inspiring people of flesh and blood to great heights.
The Harsh Light of Day (127 words) by Artemis
It's something he thinks about.
At night, lonely in his apartment.
Because it's harder then, in the enveloping darkness, to stop his mind from wandering.
And even when he tumbles gratefully in to sleep.
It spills into his dreams.
This want, this need, this longing.
For the heat of a wet mouth, greedy lips, skin sliding against skin.
For brown eyes, laden with passion, gazing down into his.
And ultimately, for the entwined intimacy of sated bodies, silky with sweat.
But then he wakes, unsatisfied, still dulled with tiredness.
And he showers, trying to wipe away this impossible desire.
But even the rationality that comes with morning cannot completely extinguish it.
And he sighs, because he knows that it still exists even in the harsh light of day.
Showtime (114 words) by Artemis
He pauses outside, takes a deep breath, he can do this. It`s just the regular Friday night thing, a bar, a couple of drinks. Usually it's
just the four of them, joking and sniping together like friends do, like good friends do. But Sam had passed Josh in the bullpen
earlier "Are you coming tonight?" he'd asked, hopefully. "Yes." Josh had said, "I'm bringing Amy." And Sam had stumbled, surprised, caught
out "Great?that's great." He'd managed, thankful to be addressing Josh's back. So now he has to go in to this bar and watch them
together and act like he doesn't care. He fixes a smile to his face and pushes the door open.
Homecoming (132 words) by Artemis
It's been twelve years since the end of the Bartlet administration, twelve years of Republican government, twelve years since they last
stood together like this in the oval office, twelve whole years. Some people think he's still too young for this job, sometimes he thinks
so too, but then they've always thought he was too young, whatever he did, and the job's his now anyway. He moves up to the presidential
desk, touches it reverently, thoughtfully.
"So we're really here again." he says breathlessly turning towards Josh, who from today is the White House Chief of Staff. Josh grins at
him.
"Yes Sir."
"You don't have to call me Sir, or Mr President."
"In here I do." Josh says firmly.
Sam considers for a moment then smiles "Yeah, I guess you do."
Some Assembly Required (102 words) by Artemis
So he's back home, well his body at least, with his boxes and crates, his entire life a heap of packaging. But inside he's not the same
person who left here for New York. Somehow, somewhere, his spirit's been shattered, his soul shredded and now he's been shipped from
Washington in a thousand pieces. He's come back here to be mended. He thinks life on the Pacific seaboard can make him whole again. He
thinks it can rearrange these fragments of his former self. He thinks it can rebuild a man from the shards. He wonders, belatedly, if
anyone packed the instructions.
Him (100 words) by Abigale
This will always be Sam for him. This body, twisted around to accommodate his lips; skin smooth, burnished golden by a sun it never sees anymore.
He can't bring himself to think of him as 'my Sam;' even his ego can't support that. But this vision of Sam is his, as surely as his hands stroking Sam's sides with graceful, flowing movements.
He told him not to talk. That's not what he wants to remember about tonight. The things they could end up saying to each other... really aren't necessary to say out loud. They both know where they stand.
Lie to Me (100 words) by Abigale
"I'm lost."
"No Sam, you're not. You're right here."
Sam's eyes narrowed, a breathy exhale seeping out from between his lips. "Please," he begged, reaching for Josh's hand. "Help me out; don't put me off with glibness." Sam brushed a thumb over the bristly hairs on the back of Josh's hand.
Josh spoke, his voice steeped in sincerity. "I'm not being glib. I just meant that if you want to talk, if you need a place to start, you're here. I'm here too, so... how can you be lost?"
Sam sighed his impotence. "So easily," he said, withdrawing his hand.
Something Blue (100 words) by Abigale
The book. Heavy; pages worn tissue soft. Dust settled into the microscopic cracks of hearty, burgundy leather, despite frequent handling.
The sound of it hitting the floor jolted Sam half awake from a bliss-less sleep. Brushing an errant hand over his face with a marionette-like jerky movement, he wriggled onto his side, curling into himself, one leg dangling loosely off the edge of the sofa.
Whimpering softly....
With guarded eyes, Josh rose from his chair retrieving the book. He flipped off the lights and closed the door before walking away, the faint strains of music following him from Toby's office.
What's My Line? (100 words) by Abigale
"I can't talk to women."
"We haven't made that a hard and fast rule yet, Sam."
"No, no, I mean I can't *talk* to women."
"You can talk to me."
"CJ."
"I'm saying, I'm a woman, Sam. You talk to me everyday."
"CJ -- "
"Usually, I even listen to what you're saying."
"I'm referring to the gentler sex."
Blink.
"In relation to, you know, me."
"You're absolutely right, Sam. You can't talk to women."
~~ "Hey."
"Hey."
"Can I talk to you, Ainsley?"
"Sorry, Sam. Not now. Call my assistant later?"
"Yeah, no, that's okay. I was just... testing a theory."
Older and Far Away (100 words) by Abigale
"Big plans, Sam; sky high plans." Josh bounced annoyingly on the sofa, his knees pistons.
"Uh huh." Distracted beyond hearing, Sam agreed with everything Josh said: pizza; tax reform; relinquishing his beer.
His glasses swung from his mouth, forgotten, and Sam sucked ferociously on their slim arm. His pen dashed across the page, littering it with words and figures as he reconstructed from sharp memory the position paper lost to a dead laptop battery.
"Like starting fresh, only with the wisdom of our years," Josh said sagely.
Holding up four fingers, Sam chanted softly, "Four more years; four more years."
Welcome To The Hellmouth (100 words) by Abigale
"Fuck! Fuck!!" Sam railed, striding across his office and back.
Toby stood inside the doorway, arms folded across his chest.
"Hey!" Leo bellowed, coming to a rolling stop by Toby's side. "I can hear him clear down the -- !"
"Yeah, sorry about that," Toby said, leaning a hip against the jamb to allow Leo a better view. "Just lost Prop 12."
"Shit! Goddamn it all to shit and back!"
Toby looked at Leo and raised his eyebrows. "You ever hear anything like this from him?"
"Nope," Leo said, eyes wide, lips twisting into a grin.
"Welcome to the hellmouth."
Go Fish (148 words) by Anne
Sam can feel Josh watching. "Why are you doing this?" Josh asks.
Sam merely shrugs, then thinks better of it. "It just seems like the right thing to do." He doesn't turn around, reaches for another book. "That's really all I can tell you."
Josh doesn't accept that. "Is it because you still think we're cutting you out of things? Toby told you?"
"He said you don't do it deliberately. I get that. I do." He lays a picture frame flat, wraps it. "It's not about that."
He can hear Josh pacing. "Then what is it about?" Josh asks. "Or are you just going to keep me guessing?"
There was a time you would've known, Sam thinks. Slowly, he turns around, just enough to look at the other man. "I don't know. Why don't you try guessing something else? I'll tell you if you have to 'Go Fish.'"
Band Candy (148 words) by Anne
"I'm telling you they were ruthless, CJ?"
CJ smirks as she gives in and opens a box. "C'mon, Sam. We all know how much of a soft touch you are for things like this?"
Josh looks up from an empty box. "And you would know, CJ. If 'Plu Wolf' showed up?"
"Pluie," she corrects, as she breaks into a plastic tray.
"Whatever," he replies. "My point is you have no room to talk."
"Guys," Sam says, "could we get back to my problem?" He looks around his office. "What am I going to do with all these boxes?"
Toby snorts as he says, "I'd say you could give them away around here, but I think Ginger and Bonnie already did that."
Sam sighs. "What am I going to do?"
Toby takes a Girl Scout cookie from a frowning CJ. "Hey, at least it's not Band Candy?"
Goodbye, Iowa (148 words) by Anne
"When did being idealistic become a bad rap?" Sam wonders as he takes another sip of his beer.
His companion grips his own bottle, grimacing, as Sam watches him try to come up with an answer. "It's not that it's a 'bad rap,' Sam. It's that it's just not something a lot of the people who've been in this business awhile have been able to hold onto."
"So what does that mean?" Sam asks. "If I have ideals, then I obviously haven't been around the block enough? I'm still green enough to be taken advantage of?"
The other man plays with the plastic stopper at the top of his bottle. "It means you're more stubborn than the rest of us." He gets up and moves to leave. "And personally, Sam, I'd hate to see that change."
Sam glances up, blue eyes meeting blue. "Thanks, Leo," he says finally.
Same Time, Same Place (100 words) by Oro
We should have lunch sometime; and I'll laugh and you'll tell me a joke and it'll all be so extraordinarily fake, it'll make you wonder if California has left a touch of Hollywood on my body. We'll dance circles and squares and even triangles around the subject we're trying to avoid.
It'll all be so blissfully sane, and sanitary, and remote, and don't you want that?
You won't ask me why and I won't explain ? it'll be easier ? then we'll get up and hug like old friends, and you won't come back because you'll be so disgusted.
(We have to.)
Older and Far Away (100 words) by Oro
I barely do think of you now; with your comforting eyes and warm lips; and all those things we used to have that are now dust on glass, or not even dust on glass, just the light that tries in vain to permeate through the glass and break into a million colorful rays of light.
Maybe we're just those rays now?
I think of you; every single day, I wonder if you're comfortable in her arms and if you think of me occasionally. I used to think that you might, but I'm too old and too smart to hope now.
Amends (100 words) by Oro
You didn't look at me, but you seemed so happy. Your tears flowing freely, like long, thin rain droplets on your cheeks and nose. Her arms were around your shoulders; trying to ease your grief of him in those familiar physical gestures you've accustomed yourselves to throughout the years.
It felt like cleanliness, seeing you like this, your emotional grief contrasting my quiet one.
It was your way of letting him go; I had to do the same for you. For me. And I thought that only the happiest man in the world could produce so many tears so easily.
Older and Far Away (100 words) by Hana
Ice cubes rattled against the crystal glass as Sam finished his Jack Daniels. Lights refracted and reflected. Colourless. Rainbows.
Tentative questions and cautious answers; stilted, weird; nothing like a real conversation. He nodded, responding to his father's queries about the campaign, and he smiled, reassuring his mother of his well-being.
His cell phone rang.
"Sorry, I'm expecting a call from D.C." Glancing at the call display, he smiled and excused himself from the table. "Hey, Josh."
"Hey, birthday boy." After a brief pause, the voice started singing, breathy and soft. "Happy birthday to you, happy..."
Sam couldn't help but smile.
The Puppet Show (143 Words) by PamB
Sam was easy to talk to, easy to confide in. Josh was once weak around him.
What seemed a lifetime ago, there was a drunken confession, a blundering overstep. The clumsy, alcohol-laden kiss aborted by two firm hands on his shoulders. Beautiful hands with long, slender fingers. "I'm flattered, Josh, but I'm not ?"
After that, Josh feared Sam. And he desired him. And he hated him.
Josh tried to regain a tenuous control on the strings of their friendship. For years he pushed Sam away and pulled him back like a marionette, wanting him never too close, but never too far away.
In the end, when Sam left the White House, Josh realized that he hadn't controlled anything at all. Sam was there when he wanted to be, and wasn't when he didn't.
There were no strings, and no goodbyes between them.
A New Man (148 Words) by PamB
"The President and Leo agreed you'd be promoted to Senior Counselor."
"That's crap, Toby. I was already a Senior Counselor."
All the weak handshakes, the false smiles, and the empty platitudes about dusting oneself off and climbing back aboard a metaphorical horse were finally done. Only the two men remained in the overlarge, darkened ballroom, nursing a bottle of Jack Daniels.
"We still need you, Sam."
The younger man drained the last of the liquid in his glass, then stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair.
"I don't need you. Or the White House, or the Party." Sam sighed and shook his head. "The Democrats are dying, Toby. You'd better go home." He turned and began to walk away.
"What the hell are you going to do, Sam?"
With a smile, Sam called out over his shoulder, "I'm going to buy a boat."
Real Me (150 words) by PamB
None of the senior staff ever knew that Sam always kept up with Laurie by email and cell phone. That he purposely chose not to postpone his Christmas travel plans to meet with Stanley Keyworth because he was so angry with Josh. That he had sex with Ainsley nine times. That on the night of Bartlet's fourth State of the Union, he met Lisa in her hotel room later to apologize, and hit the sheets for old time's sake. That he always hung up when he called his father and the girlfriend answered the phone. That he spent every spare day off for four months with the clean up crew in Rehoboth Beach after the Kensington Oil spill. That he composed a resignation letter after the drop in, which he saved and routinely updated for a year afterward. That he never forgave Bartlet for lying.
That he never looked back.
Earshot (140 words) by PamB
With a practiced smile, Sam floated through the campaign post-election party like a phantom.
"Too bad ?"
"Just the kind of new, young blood the Democrats desperately need ?"
"? set up to lose."
"? never had a chance ?"
"The White House screwed one of their own ?"
"? didn't do anything to support the campaign."
"Came in at the 11th hour like a bunch of rodeo clowns ?"
"The Democrats have no guts?"
"? would rather cry about the Republicans than beat them at their own game."
"The Party is dead."
"I'm registering Independent tomorrow ?"
"? registering Republican!"
When it was done, Sam still clung to his idealism like a life preserver. Their words didn't make him angry, but determined.
If he couldn't use his idealism for the Bartlet Administration, then he would use it against them.
Get It Done (143 words) by coupdepam
Sam leaned against Toby's doorjamb, "I'm going to get a coffee, I'm going to open my mail, then I'm going to start."
Toby didn't look up, "The first two are avoidance strategies- the last one you should have done an hour ago."
"I'm not avoiding?I'm easing into it,"
"Well can you ease into it a little more quickly please?"
"Okay," Sam turned around, "I'm easing into it Ginger."
"Good for you."
"I'm going to get a coffee, I'm going to open my mail, then I'm going to start and you better be ready because I'm about ready to burst with meaningful phrases and concise points well made."
"Do I need to be ready right now or have I time to go to the ladies room?" Ginger asked as she walked away.
?You?ve probably got a few minutes,? Sam said to the empty Bullpen.
Doppelgangland (149 words) by coupdepam
Josh opened the rear door and grabbed his backpack. A dull pop song had been playing about never saying sorry and regrets. He slammed the door and glanced upwards. Then he saw it; a flash of blue, a smile, well groomed hair, an Armarni suit.
He started to run, apologising to the people he bumped into on the street.
"Hey," he called, waving, an inane grin on his face, "Hey!" he called again.
Breathless he pulled up beside the figure, placed a hand on his shoulder and spun him around.
The grin immediately disappeared as he saw the stranger's confused expression. He released his hold on his arm and stepped backwards.
"Sorry," Josh explained, "I'm sorry?I thought you were?I thought you were someone else?" Josh sighed deeply, "I'm sorry," The bemused man smiled at the mumbled explanation. Josh didn't return it; he simply turned around and walked slowly away.
Some Assembly Required (101 words) by Jen
"Yow!" Sam automatically lifted his finger to his mouth. He slumped back in his chair and gazed miserably at the pile of evil plastic shapes which were supposed to simply click together and become a disc holder.
Toby appeared in the doorway waving a newspaper.
"I know, I know," Sam mumbled around his finger, "I'm onto it."
Toby leaned on the doorjamb and rubbed his brow.
"Sam, it's a disaster. We're going to have to take the whole submission apart section by section, then reassemble it."
Sam swallowed audibly. He reached into his drawer for a band-aid.
"Reassembly? Not a problem."
Beneath You (100 words) by Kacey Linden
She looks at you, unblinking, lips slightly parted. Her eyes are level with yours, she's taller than Ainsley, she's as tall as--
It could be easy. It might not even be wrong.
She's waiting. You watch her bite her lower lip.
Her long blonde hair. You know how that feels, you remember how it made you feel. Something like guilt. Except Ainsley knew.
You're not sure Donna does.
"It's not that..." you start. "I mean..."
She smiles. "Yes?" She's beautiful.
And she deserves better than this, better than you.
You kiss her anyway, you feel her respond.
Much, much better.
The Replacement (102 words) by Starfish
It wasn't right.
It just wasn't the same.
He wasn't the same.
That man in the office over there. The one with the glasses and the nervous manner.
He wasn't the one that should be there.
He wasn't the man that bought them doughnuts. The man that would always go and get them coffee when they should be getting it for him. He wasn't the man who could leave them awed by a simple birthday message. The one that always lost his glasses and then sheepishly ask them for help.
No matter what excuses they made for his presence, he wasn't Sam.
No Place Like Home (99 words) by Starfish
Getting out of the rental car he couldn't stop the flood of memories that assaulted his mind.
The dappled sunlight showering the sidewalk through the green leaves of the trees. The smell of the ocean that you knew would appear in your sight if you just stepped around the corner. The sound of the seagulls squawking down by the water. The house that held so many memories that would now forever be tainted with doubt as to their sincerity. The mother that called, broken and sobbing, when her world had fallen apart.
There really was no place like home.
Blood Ties (101 words) by Starfish
No matter how much I think I might hate him right now he's still a part of me.
Without him I couldn't be here, I wouldn't be doing this, I wouldn't have met these people. This life wouldn't exist.
Without him I wouldn't feel this way. This betrayal. This venom that pierces my soul, eating away like acid through flesh.
Forgiveness is a terrible thing. There are some things that you cannot let pass under the bridge. Deeds that cannot be atoned for.
Sometimes though, it's just easier to forget, to let it go. After all, blood is thicker than water.
Flooded (105 words) by Starfish
"Just try it again!"
"It's not going to work. You need to leave it for a while."
"I really don't need to do that. What I need is for you to try it again!"
"Okay, okay! No need to get uptight."
"Uptight?! UPTIGHT?! I. Am. Not. Uptight."
"Those clenched teeth there are really convincing."
"Just try the damn thing again will you!"
"It's not going to work, I'm telling you right now."
"...!"
"Didn't your mother ever tell you your face will stay like that if the wind changes?"
"Arrggghhh! Fine. It's not going to work. Let's get a cab."
"I told you. It's flooded."
Dirty Girls (100 words) by Jae Gecko
"I was giving her a graduation present."
Scott leaned across the table. "Yeah? And what exactly was she giving you?" Jagged veins cut across the whites of his eyes. "I can't believe I'm running a Bartlet-era liberal who sleeps with hookers."
My brows flattened into a line. "I don't--"
"Don't tell me you didn't do it, Sam. Because if I don't believe you, neither will the Orange County Register." He snorted. "At least this one might shut up the guys who think you're gay."
A comeback burned into my tongue. I met Scott's eyes, glaring, and swallowed it down.
Fear, Itself (100 words) by Jae Gecko
Ron Butterfield's face was grim. "He was shot through the window. He died instantly."
Shot. Died. "Is C.J.--"
"She's fine. She was right here when it happened."
My eyes flicked over to the corridor. C.J. was leaning against the wall, shock masking her grief. She wasn't fine. "Thank you," I murmured.
I closed my eyes. The marble theater arches were replaced by the sterile white of hospital walls, then by Josh trembling in a sweat-soaked bed. Nausea gripped my stomach.
Beside me, Leo reached for his cell phone. "Wait," I said, a hand on his arm. "I'll do that."
First Date (100 words) by Lysandra
Maybe Josh didn't know it, but Sam did.
He'd said, "Hey, want to grab a bite to eat? I'm sick of campaign food," and Josh had agreed and said sure. Yeah, it was only IHOP, but Sam paid for Josh's meal as well as his own. He'd seen candlelight where there was none, and didn't know if his face looked like his stomach felt, jumpy and vicious. Josh probably didn't notice Sam's plate was still half full when they were finished. He probably didn't notice Sam watching his mouth while he ate, either.
They'd just been on their first date.
Tabula Rasa (147 words) by Elizabeth "Llyzbeth" Wallace
In the middle of the meeting she suddenly clenched her fist, bit her tongue to keep from snapping at them. It's not FAIR. As far as they're concerned, he might've never existed. Will just stepped in, took his place, and everybody else just walks around like blank slates, wiped clean, no memory of him at all. She wants to snarl at them, "What the hell's WRONG with you?" Have they really forgotten him already?
What's worse...has HE forgotten HER?
She could stand it, she thinks, if she knew that sometimes, out there where it's warm, out where he feels like he makes a difference, if just sometimes..
...he missed her.
She looks up to see the President peering at her over his glasses.
"Claudia," he says slowly. "You look about a million miles away."
"Only a few thousand," she whispers.
And tries to think of something else.
Enemies (145 words) by Angela
Ainsley's speech pattern became more Ainsleyian as she argued a point for the hundredth time. She called him Democrat, her southern accent making the word an insult.
Entire phrases disappeared from Sam's vocabulary in his frustration. He called her Republican, pouring all his contempt into the word.
They couldn't spend ten minutes together without arguing. Yet, when he wanted to speak of his disappointment in the administration, he sought her out. She wouldn't make him feel like a traitor for not having blind loyalty. When she wanted to complain about her workload, she went to him. He wouldn't read more into it than your basic griping.
People passing by the closed door heard voices raised. On the other side, two hands brushed against each other as they dug into a bowl of nuts. Two pairs of eyes met, acknowledging a moment of perfect companionship.
Out of Mind, Out of Sight (142 words) Michelle K.
Sam never hears from Josh anymore. No late night phone calls, no pithy emails (and certainly no visits). All knowledge he has of Josh (current, distant Josh, not the long ago Josh who seemed to love him) comes from Donna.
He's fine, still involved in some cyclical horror with Amy (well, Donna doesn't call it a horror - she's so much better at masking her jealousy than Sam is). He's got a lot on his plate, but he's certainly going to give Sam a call when things die down (Donna's always making excuses for him but Sam is past that. He's moved right to bitter).
Sam never asks what he wants to know (does Josh say anything about him, does he still seem to care even a little bit?). He just pretends not to be concerned (and he certainly never questions Josh).
Primeval (100 words) by Anne
"Josh..." he says desperately, his breath catching in his chest.
He tries to say it so that Josh will hear. Will understand that this has to stop.
The hands grasping at his body tell him that his plea wasn't heard.
The hands don't even pause.
But then his don't either.
They both know what happens when they get like this. Bruises and marks. Sore muscles and scorched skin.
Yet the knowledge doesn't keep it from happening. Doesn't even cause it to slow down.
"Sam..." finally is the response.
And the way it's spoken he knows that they won't ever stop.
Helpless (148 words) by coupdepam
Josh had been kept awake all night by Sam's hacking cough, "You're staying home today," Josh scratched his forehead as he pointed to the
objects on the tray, "Juice, newspaper, tablets, cough syrup, sandwich."
"Are you going to take the tray away in five minutes and see if I can remember what was on it?"
Josh smiled and sat on the bed, "What's your name?" He kissed Sam's forehead.
"Samuel Norman Seaborn."
"Very good," Josh kissed him again, "What day is it?"
"Tuesday," Sam was rewarded with another kiss.
"Who's the president of the United States?"
"Leo McGarry?oh you mean officially, Jed Bartlet." Josh's kiss turned into a laugh as he pulled back to study Sam.
"Sure you'll be okay?"
Sam started to recite list of objects in a dazed tone, "Tablets, juice, beachball screwdriver, mango, I think I saw a mango-"
"Alright, alright I get the message."
Nightmares (100 words) by Starfish
Every night he wakes up in a cold sweat. He can never remember why.
He couldn't explain what it is that wakes him from his slumber, a scream desperately trying to crawl up his throat.
Maybe it's the gunshots. The sound of shattering glass.
Maybe it's the screams, the shouts and the panicked cries for help.
Maybe it's the sound of the sirens or the sound of his best friend's breath being sucked into a collapsed lung.
Maybe it's all of these. Maybe it's none of them. He couldn't tell you, he just knows he won't sleep again that night.
Conversations with Dead People (145 Words) by PamB
"This is Sam Seaborn."
"Hi, buddy."
"I'm sorry. Who's this?"
"Josh ? Lyman."
"Oh. Hi."
"It's been a while."
"Almost four years."
"Yeah ? I, uh, I caught the show last night. You know, the thing you said about the tax incentives ?"
"What do you want, Josh?"
"I just ? I was thinking ? I heard Donna telling Carol ?"
"Josh ?"
"Nothing, really, just ? how's married life?"
"It's great, it's been great for three years."
"Good. Um, you should come to the White House before we leave."
"I've been to the White House. I used to work there."
"I know, I ? I never said goodbye when you left. I was ?"
"A jerk?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."
"You'll come? And bring your wife."
"I'll have to check my schedule. Thanks for calling."
"Yeah, it was good to ? um, Sam? Sam?"
End of Days (142 Words) by PamB
"Does the place look the same?" Bartlet asked the handsome visitor.
"The Oval is awe-inspiring, Mr. President," Sam said, glancing around the room, absently fingering the visitor's tag around his neck with one hand, swirling the dark liquid in the brandy snifter with his other. "You'll miss it."
"One more week. Then retirement."
"We won't have heard the last of Jed Bartlet."
"You're probably right." Bartlet smiled fondly at Sam. "You know, between your nightly talk show on CNN and your best-seller, you really took us to task the last four years."
"Yes sir."
"I was proud of you, Sam. I still am."
"I know, Mr. President."
"Sam, will you do me a favor?"
"If I can, Sir."
"Will you autograph my copy of your book?"
With a slight catch in his voice, Sam said, "It would be my honor, Mr. President."
The Replacement (128 Words) by PamB
In one 30-second sound bite, Sam knew Bailey had screwed him.
Bailey wasn't the true believer Sam thought he was - just a guy hired to do a job. Hired by the Wildes to run the best campaign he could, and he did.
But that obligation was over, and now Sam was on his own with a group of strangers hand-picked by Bailey and the DCCC to run a losing campaign. Nothing had changed, the Democrats weren't serious about the California 47, and Sam realized he was foolish to think otherwise.
At that moment Sam also knew he would never return to the White House. He was suddenly very tired of being the guy who did the job, but didn't believe.
Bailey was better suited for that role.
Something Blue (100 words) by Kacey Linden
He's fine, with Josh and Toby, and CJ at the bar, beer, peanuts, music loud enough he doesn't have to listen to anything else. Nod, nod, smile, nod.
Toby's lips move before he stands. More beer? Absofuckinglutely.
Josh fingers his glass, looks at him sideways.
He doesn't think he's seen that shirt before, doesn't think he's seen Josh wear that color.
"I'm okay," he says. It's close enough to the truth.
Josh nods, pats his arm, hand running down from elbow to his wrist, material brushing against his fingers. He's always wondered what blue felt like.
"Sure, Sam."
It's soft.
Anne (148 words) by Anne
*What's in a name...?*
He sits in a dark Virginia bar, one that's really more appropriate for quoting Hemingway or Faulkner than Shakespeare, and asks himself these questions: Was a person really so horribly tied to their identity that it was impossible for them to be anyone else? Even if they tried to change it?
*A rose by any other name...*
Would Norman Seaborn be as foolishly idealistic as Samuel Seaborn? Would he love the wrong people? Give his faith misguidedly? Set himself up for continuous disappointment and heartbreak?
*Would smell as sweet.*
Would he be the perennial "nice guy," always destined to finish last?
Would he actually be able to change his fate?
Sam Seaborn throws some dollars on the bar and orders another whiskey. If changing his name and moving could change his life, he'd do it.
He's just not so sure of that, is all.
Faith, Hope and Trick (100 words) by Anne
For once, Josh was the sober one. "We can do this. We can get past this. We can get him into that office again."
Sam nodded, slowly as he drank, but CJ wasn't so ready to agree. "He lied to a lot of people, Josh. Including us. I think you don't realize just how hard this is going to be."
Toby, Sam saw, looked like he was with her. But Josh wouldn't be deterred. "I'm tellin' you...we can pull a rabbit out of our hat."
And Sam knew right then it was going to happen. Because Josh had said so.
This Year's Girl (136 words) by Elizabeth "Llyzbeth" Wallace
Sam looked down at her, and still couldn't believe she was there. He smiled, and slid his hand slowly down her side. He couldn't keep from touching her, she seemed more real when he could feel the smoothness of her under his hands. Perfect. Beautiful.
CJ walked up beside him. "Is this her?"
"This is her," he answered, sliding his arm around CJ's waist and pulling her close.
They stood there for a moment, looking at her. Sam's sailboat, brand new, the latest model. She floated in the calm waters off the dock, rocking gently.
"She's beautiful, Sam," CJ said quietly.
"ALMOST as beautiful.." he said, kissing CJ under her ear, where she was ticklish. "..as her namesake."
CJ laughed, trying to squirm away. But not trying very hard.
"Come sailing with me, pretty lady?"
"Always."
Innocence (100 words) by Geraldine
After all this time, they still see him as innocent. And he still doesn't understand why.
He doesn't understand how they can reconcile Laurie, Lisa, Gage Whitney, for crying out loud, with his supposed... well, call it naivet?, or innocence, or whatever.
He wonders what they would say if they knew about some of the deals he made while he was working as a lawyer. If they knew that back then, he didn't question it. If they knew that he hired the most vicious lawyer he could think of to defend his mother in the divorce. If they knew that he enjoys seeing this lawyer taking his father to the cleaners.
If they knew that he wishes he could do it himself.
Graduation Day (100 words) by Geraldine
Back in high school, he had to deliver a speech on graduation day - he was the smartest one of the bunch, or so his grades proclaimed, so he wrote a few lines about hope, and future, and expectations, and he spent countless nights staring at the ceiling of his room, terrified that he would screw up. Embarrass himself and his family. Forget what he had to say. Fall on his ass, in front of everyone.
"The President is ready to see you, Congressman," Charlie says, smiling.
Sam rises, ready for his photo-op. Still getting used to being called "Congressman."
He didn't fall in high school.
He won't fall now.
What's My Line? (102 words) by Geraldine
When Toby told me, it took me a minute to fully realize that I had just been screwed with my pants on.
"You've been promoted."
Right.
Except that I joined the campaign to write speeches. I didn't know if I would be good at it, but I am. It was one the very few things that was still bringing me joy - one of the only things I wasn't disappointed with.
Except it looks so much more like a slap down than a promotion to me.
Except it wasn't the deal we had made.
"Sam?"
"Thanks, but no thanks."
I think it's time for me to think about the future.
My future.
For a change.
No Place Like Home (106 words) by Geraldine
He hadn't expected that.
When he came back here, he knew that the odds were not in his favor - and yes, he lost.
Yet.
Yet, when he looks at the ocean, when he feels the sun on his back, at the end of this nightmarish night, he feels better than he has in two years.
Does it mean something?
Does it mean that maybe, maybe, it's time for him to move on? To do something, anything, but go back to DC and watch the administration shoot itself in the foot three times a day?
He looks at the waves, and makes a decision.
He goes back to the hotel, where Toby is packing up. "I'm not leaving."
A New Man (111 words) by Geraldine
This is their last night as the senior staff.
Tomorrow, he'll be sworn in.
Tomorrow, he'll be the enemy. One of these congressmen he and Josh, and Toby, used to complain about.
CJ and Toby are laughing over their beers, Josh is nowhere to be seen - he had a date, Donna explained when she arrived without him, looking sadly at Sam, and he had to refrain from telling her that he couldn't care less where Josh is. It's not as if he didn't know that the bridges are burned between them. Have been for two years now.
Tomorrow, his life will change.
He doesn't miss the man Josh has become, but he misses his friend.
Friends should be there for each other.
Superstar (100 words) by Geraldine
She's the third girl who has asked Sam for an autograph, and Toby seems highly amused. Whether it's because when Sam flashes his bright smile at them, they blush (all of them) or because Josh almost grabbed the small piece of paper the first one handed to Sam, believing it was for him, is hard to tell.
"So, you're... well-known," Josh says.
Sam shrugs. "The book sold well."
"We saw."
"There was my picture on the cover."
"Yeah."
"I have a fan club now," Sam adds off-handedly.
Josh chokes on his soda. "You do?"
Sam smiles. "Jealous?"
"No!" Josh answers indignantly.
But he is, Sam can tell.
And for some reason, is pleased.
Tabula Rasa (112 words) by Geraldine
Josh has always been scared of this side of him, Sam knows. The impulsive side of him. The one that makes him walk out of a conference room, throwing away his future wedding and lucrative career in one fell swoop.
That makes him offer his name to a widow because he thinks that it's only fair.
That convinces him that he can make a difference.
This side of him that makes him pack his life in boxes, send them across the country and begin anew, somewhere else. Surrounded by strangers.
That led him to stay here, three thousand miles away from Josh.
Who was once his friend.
Who once knew him.
Who doesn't care enough anymore to be scared of what he can do.
Dead Things (98 words) by Geraldine
He makes an inventory of all the things he lost during this administration.
His family, clearly.
Josh, without a doubt.
Lisa. He survived.
His naivet?. Not that he misses it.
His principles. No, not his principles. Rather, his belief that everyone has the same standards that he does.
It's too depressing for his taste.
And it could lead him to forget all the things he gained.
A better understanding of what works and what doesn't - in politics, in writing, in relationships.
Toby - unwilling mentor, teacher, friend. Not in that order.
CJ.
Donna.
Leo's respect - and he treasures it.
Hope. He didn't lose his hope.
Nor his desire to make things better.
Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered (100 words) by Geraldine
"What did you do?"
"Nothing."
"Sam!"
"Josh, I didn't do anything. And tonight wasn't any different from the other nights. Wait, that didn't come out the way I wanted it to."
"Did you use a new aftershave?"
"No. And it tells me a lot, that you have to ask."
"Was it a new tuxedo?"
"CJ told me that I look good in a tuxedo. Once."
"Every fucking woman was staring at you."
"Yeah."
"And, and quite a few men too."
"Yeah. Wait, I didn't have anything in my teeth, right?"
"No."
"And my zipper"
"Was done. I checked. They were all... * admiring * you."
"I don't mind."
"But - "
"How did you find me?"
A smile, then. "Incredible."
Revelations (100 words) by Abigale
Sex wasn't supposed to be this sad, was it? He didn't remember it being like this. Feeling so empty and drained only made Sam want to fill himself up more. But more felt like less, less and less every time.
So at 4 a.m. on a frosty fall morning, Sam came to the conclusion that Josh's need was draining his soul. It wasn't shocking or sudden or sad. It was a natural conclusion to an unnatural balancing act, and when the clock struck 4:30, Sam rolled out of bed, free of all doubt and ready to go for a run.
Becoming (100 words) by Abigale
I sit here in the rain mixed with sea spray, and I can feel my skin draw tight with the salt. The rock is slick, and I may yet slip into the waves; god knows I came close as I scrambled out here. The wind sends the rain past my face at an angle, and it's cool and it's hard and it feels like the ocean itself is trying to slap some sense into me. It feels good to be chastised by someone other than myself. I'm nowhere but here, and it's a good place to be in the rain.
Crush (100 words) by Abigale
She took him to bed because for an hour, over two martinis and twelve olives, he never asked what Laurie did. He asked what she thought and what she read, and when he leaned into her and grazed his lips over her ear, he asked her what she liked. She liked him, and the way his mouth looked hungry but his eyes were timid, and how his hands kept drumming and slashing, but he was so still. When she'd given him her best, most brazen smile, he'd shocked her with one of equal sizzle, so she took him to bed.
Who Are You? (100 words) by Abigale
As Toby watched Sam briskly walk away, he realized that he now knew in nautical miles how far Camp David was from the White House; the number of lines on a legal pad; the evolution of the National Flood Insurance Program Reauthorization Act; how Sam had disposed of the battery from a Colman camping lamp he'd gotten when he was sixteen; and that Sam did not know how to compensate for the scale of the weight variables used by Statistics Canada.
Toby knew all this now, but he still didn't know the answer to his question: "Are you okay, Sam?"
The Killer in Me (100 words) by Abigale
He'd spent over a year on the answers, back when it wasn't his question. And now that it is, Sam lifts glasses in California with notebook-holding reporters, accepting squinty-eyed judgments for Bartlet's sins: past, present and imagined. They want to talk about a disease Sam's never had and decisions he's never made and always the question is when, when, when.
He says "last" when he meant to say "appropriate", and "lied" instead of "private", and when he falls on the bed that night fully clothed and full of Scotch, he smiles to himself and sighs a sound of pure relief.
Listening to Fear (100 words) by Abigale
The bullets sing to Sam as he drifts toward, then away from sleep. His tie's a limp and lifeless thing around his neck, and his hands smell like something he doesn't want to put a name to.
Toby sits on his left, eyes calculating the motives of every person who walks past the waiting room. "I know what you're feeling," he says to Sam eventually, and Sam waits to hear what he's feeling, because it seems impossible that there's a word for it. "I know you're scared. I know you feel guilty..."
But Sam knows what he feels now. Lucky.
Normal Again (100 words) by Kacey Linden
It's strange, he thinks, the absolute sameness of it, after the handshakes, the backslaps, the welcome-homes, the talk-to-you-soons, everything as it always was, except the new office, the new job nobody has quite explained yet, everything's exactly the same, except someone else in his office, the distance from Josh and CJ and Toby, the absence of thumping against his window, but everything else, except the new girl who isn't Ginger, who never smiles at him, but he walks in the same door, signs the same book, there's no drama, there's nothing to see, nothing has changed, except everything he remembers.
Doublemeat Palace (100 words) by Kacey Linden
"I can't believe you agreed to this," Josh mumbles.
"I didn't." At Josh's glare: "Not exactly."
"Well, we're here, aren't we?"
"You didn't have to say yes."
"What, and have CJ spend the next two weeks making those chicken noises at me?"
"Wouldn't have been worse than your secret plan to fight inflation." Smiling at Josh's indignant look.
"You know, for a modern man, you're not very... anti-these things."
He shrugs. "It's for a good cause."
Josh glancing at him. "You look good."
"So do you."
"You're going to make more than me, aren't you?"
"Oh yeah."
"Our next bachelor..."
Selfless (100 words) by Kacey Linden
He was someone, once. He was a part of something.
He remembers. Vaguely.
Offices and hallways and stairs. Constant motion. Voices. He remembers voices.
He had a voice too, he thinks.
He remembers, sometimes, having long legs, large hands, dark hair. And glasses, he thinks, the slight weight on his nose. He wasn't perfect. But he had... he was... wasn't he?
He remembers a family. Flawed and broken, but still his.
Do they miss him? he wonders. Can he be missed?
He doesn't know. There's no one to tell him.
He waits, alone, silent, incorporeal, he waits to be remembered.
Gingerbread (100 words) by Kacey Linden
Christmas again. Different this year, of course, but still, the elaborate decorations, trees garish with ornaments, that overly detailed gingerbread White House...
He studies it momentarily. The witch's house in the fairy tale couldn't have been better designed. It must've seemed like a miracle to those children, he thinks. Hungry, lost, searching, they must've look up at it with awe, not seeing the cracks. Not noticing the mould. No sense of what it was, underneath.
He wants to touch it, to test its solidness, its fragility. But he doesn't. Must see Josh, deliver bad news.
It probably isn't real anyway.
The I in Team (100 words) by Kacey Linden
Sam squints, rotating the slip of paper, moving it forwards, backwards. It must make sense from some angle.
Maybe if he reads it aloud. "Tim?" It could be Tim. Who's Tim? "Tim... Russert?"
Does the governor have a meeting with Russert? He doesn't remember that being on the schedule.
"Who took this message?" he asks the room.
One person looks up, shakes his head, resumes envelop-stuffing.
He puts it aside. He'll ask CJ later.
*
"Where the hell is he?" Toby paces, scowling. "You told him we were meeting here, right?"
Josh shrugs. "Donna said she left him a note."
Gingerbread (123 words) by Jen
The bug had hit Sam hard. Three days of fever and vomiting had left him fragile, shockingly pale against the navy pillows, eyes huge and shadowed. Josh sat on the edge of the bed, torn. Sam lifted a listless hand.
"Go. I'll be fine."
-Flat lemonade. Everyone's suggestions rumbled around Josh's tired brain as he stood numbly in the supermarket aisle.
Josh dumped the shopping bag on the bed as he changed into comfortable clothes. Sam inspected the purchases. He lifted out a grinning, cellophane-wrapped gingerbread man, and gazed curiously at Josh, who shuffled awkwardly.
"CJ said to get some ginger thing."
Sam smiled for the first time in three days.
"It's perfect, Josh."
Blood Ties (114 words) by Jen
"Yow!" Josh exclaimed, snatching one hand away from the huge box. Sam staggered drunkenly under the sudden redistribution of weight.
"What?" he gasped.
"A staple bit me!" Josh licked at a tiny red trickle.
"Can we just get this inside?"
Backing unexpectedly into the coffee table, Sam desperately scrabbled for balance, his hands sliding along the box.
"Yikes!"
"We gotta put this down." They lowered the box to the floor, panting. Sam inspected a small gash on his finger. Josh grinned conspiratorially.
"Wanna be blood brothers?"
Sam frowned, "That's really not PC anymore."
"Aw, c'mon, brothers forever."
Sam squinted at Josh and looked down at his finger thoughtfully.
"I could do with a brother..."
Tabula Rasa (150 words) by Taeda
2002. Delete. Are you sure you want to delete this folder and all the files in it? YES.
The little piece of paper icons fly across the screen, crumpling into the little recycle bin icon, just as they had minutes earlier, when he had deleted the folders 1998, 1999, 2000, and 2001.
He takes a deep, cleansing breath and feels lighter. ...House147, House248, House545, House620, House751, Inaug2a through 2r... they fly faster and faster until he cannot read them, flickering filenames. Done.
Control, Alt, Delete. Change Password. Old Password: ************. Bartlet4Amer. New Password: *********. Seaborn47.
When he is done, he closes his laptop and centers it perfectly on the wide glossy expanse of his new desk. Tomorrow it will be covered with his office supplies, a place for his Newton's Cradle and new coffee mug. Monday it will be covered with briefings, reports, legislation. Today it is a clean slate.
Bad Eggs (145 words) Geraldine
"Toby?"
"What?"
"I don't feel well."
It was a huge understatement, actually. Sam had never, ever, felt this bad.
"What the hell do you want me to do about it?" Toby asked.
Sam looked at him, as pitifully as he could manage. "Help?"
They didn't speak for a minute, Sam still standing in the doorway, Toby still glaring at him.
"I think it was the eggs," Sam finally said.
"The eggs?"
"The eggs that I ate for lunch."
"The eggs?"
"I'm going to be sick," Sam said, calmly.
And he ran to the nearest bathroom.
Toby called Ginger. When the assistant appeared, he said, his voice rising with each word, "Cancel Sam's day. And find out who gave him bad eggs for lunch, * two days * before the State of the Union. And if that someone's sick idea of a joke, there'll be hell to pay. "
The Dark Age (100 words) by Emerald Green
He thought it started with the GDC speech. Not so much "the drop in," but that Toby hadn't trusted him.
Then he learned about his father's affair.
Then there was the revelation about the president's MS.
He'd assumed that things couldn't get worse, because these things came in threes, didn't they?
Obviously not.
It was followed by being shut out, doing projects that nobody considered, that even he had to work to care about.
It ended with Kevin Kahn and the tape. Something he'd brought on himself, alone, and at least there was some kind of control in that fact.
The Weight of the World (100 words) by Emerald Green
He couldn't stop watching the news or having Bonnie and Ginger get updates from the site, like he thought the oil would just magically disappear without damaging anything. Instead, the statistics kept pouring in and he blamed himself, even if he knew it was a bit irrational. All he could think was that it was the first time he ever really regretted being good at his job. If only Josh had rescued him sooner.
He wondered if he would ever regret being good at this job. Of course, Bartlet was the Real Thing, so he didn't have to worry. Right?
Spiral (100 words) by Kacey Linden
Tough Love (100 words) by Kacey Linden
He reminds himself to think of Lisa, sometimes, in his office. He looks at her photo, when he's reaching for the phone, for a pen, and he feels himself smile.
Because he does love her, when he thinks about it, when he thinks about her... her smile, the sound of her laugh, the fit of her hand in his, the feel of her body against his... He does love her.
He knows this, somewhere, maybe in the ring on her finger.
And just because he has to remind himself to think about her, it doesn't make them any less true.
The Body (100 words) by Kacey Linden
It's easier not to think, just breathe, steady, calm, stand still, feet planted, let Josh come to him, he won't move, if Josh will come to him, his legs almost trembling, almost, breathe, he reminds himself, this isn't new, Josh staring at him, same old thing, he licks dry lips, sees Josh smile, it wasn't a sign, but Josh steps closer, smiling, he feels his fingers twitch with his heartbeat, Josh will come to him, stand still, his palms cold and moist, Josh's lips, warm, hard against his, then soft, he doesn't need to think, doesn't remember how to breathe.
The Gift (100 words) by Kacey Linden
"So." Toby clears his throat. "I guess this is it."
"Yeah." Nothing to pack this time. Just standing in an office that will never be his.
Toby holds out a stapler. "I... uh, got this from, you know."
His stapler. The weight in his palm. "You stole it from Will?" He smiles. "Thanks."
A shrug. "Sure."
He hands it back. "You shouldn't steal government property, though."
Toby looks at it, at him. "Sam..."
It's just a thing, he wants to say. It's not what he wanted from this place.
"Take it."
But it looks like this is what he's getting.
The Dark Age (150 words) by Anne
Stepping out of the cab, Josh thinks that the last few days have to be a nightmare. Zoey is not missing. The President has not stepped down...
It becomes a mantra. Enough that he takes notices of little else.
Including the man waiting on his stoop. "Josh," he hears, the sound breaking into his chant. Making him turn.
Changing his mantra. I thought I'd never see you again...
"Sam," he says stupidly. "What are-"
Sam shakes his head. "Did you really think," he asks, "that I could hear about this, and not come back to see what I could do to help?"
Josh stops and thinks, After the way we left things with you...well...yeah...
But he says, "I didn't know. I just...didn't know."
Sam nods, and starts to head up. "Well now you do," he says.
Yes. Josh thinks. I do.
And suddenly things seem a little less dark.
Entropy (100 words) by Abigale
She'd come to raise money and ended up converted; a disciple. Fully versed in Sam Seaborn and wearing her own little button proclaiming Sam! For Congress!
They didn't see the fatigue. She did. They didn't see the anxiety, either. They didn't see him at all, Amy realized, as they sat there together, talking around him. They all listened to the determination, but only she heard the doubt, so clear in the clipped words, the hesitation between thoughts.
Stiff embraces and lack of eye-contact, and he was losing more than an election, but only Amy recognized it for what it was.
Bad Girls (100 words) by Abigale
"Which one is Sam again?" The woman arched an elegant eyebrow and held her head at a regal angle. "The one we want to take a bite out of?" Her tone was a purr, and Abbey's eyes went wide with alarm.
"You're wicked," she said admiringly.
Her companion shot a sideway glance at Abbey, and searched the crowd. "That ass," she sighed, pushing away from the bar.
"And if you get caught flirting?" Abbey asked, her voice intrigued.
"There's an art to these things. I'll tell Leo the boy was hitting on me, and they'll both believe it!" Jenny laughed.
Beer Bad (100 words) by Abigale
Sam and his father used to like the margaritas here; not a smooth edge to them. But Sam isn't drinking margaritas today. His hand is curled around a Corona. He's flexing his thumb back and forth, tinging the glass with his nail while his father nurses his beer, which is on life-support.
Sam thinks that if they make it to the next round he'll offer to buy, and it will sound spontaneous and natural, and his dad will smile and think it's a Step In The Right Direction.
But Sam's not ready for that, so he lets his father pay.
First Date (100 words) by Abigale
The moment was broken when the song came to its inevitable end, another beginning with a harder beat. Fast music made Sam nervous, and there was a lot of fast music in New York.
Holding Lisa's delicate hand while weaving his way through the cramped restaurant still felt like dancing to Sam. His hip grazed a table. Glasses tinkled, and Lisa giggled and muttered; something suspiciously close to 'klutz.'
He chirped an apology to the couple seated at the table, and led Lisa on, throwing her a smile over his shoulder, anticipating showing her just how coordinated he could be.
Smashed (100 words) by Abigale
No matter how much he drank he could never soothe the jagged, raw tear in his throat. But he tried. He started with water; tried scotch, which he hated, vodka which he liked, whisky, which he loved.
But the tear didn't heal over and Sam found himself swallowing down his words, like Josh; gulping around his objections and his silent recriminations. At night when the office lights dimmed like an exhausted flame, Sam would pull out a bottle and slowly sip at the smooth, warm elixir, letting the drops dry on his lips where he could lick them off later.
The Harvest (100 words) by Abigale
"Okay," Sam said, laying the file in front of Ainsley. "These are your copies. Notarized, pasteurized-- "
"I'm so not the person for this."
"You'll know what to do."
"And when to do it?"
"That *is* the most important thing." He'd wanted to leave on a breezier note, but she still looked hesitant. "Just remember: the first guys on the list? They need to know right away."
"Then they'll come get your... brain," Ainsley clarified.
Sam blinked. "I really don't know how it works. But they will, so... "
"So all I do is pull the plug?"
Sam smiled softly.
The Wish (100 words) by Artemis
There's a proverb, Chinese he thinks, that warns you to be careful what you wish for because you might get it. He understands it now. As a child he'd thought that if your wish was granted, then it was forever. So that night, unable to sleep, looking up oil spills and tankers on the internet, he'd wished for Josh. And Josh had been plucked up like Dorothy and deposited, dripping wet, in his office and he'd thought that was the happy ending. But now with the ashes of disappointment in his mouth he wishes that he'd never wished at all.
Empty Places (100 words) by Artemis
He's sure it was the right thing to do, not going back.
He'd lost his way, his focus, his raison d'etre.
He was finding it impossible to function.
Now he has an ocean, beaches, sunshine.
He can sleep eight hours straight.
But there are things he misses.
The thud of a rubber ball that means Toby needs him.
CJ flirting when she's a little drunk.
The barely veiled desire in Josh's eyes.
Only he hasn't seen that in a while anyway.
He did the right thing not going back.
His heart and his bed are both just empty places now.
"Well, ya know money's the root of all evil."
Sam's head snapped around at that. CJ and Donna threw each other a panicked look; at two drinks past where the bartender really should've cut him off, Sam wasn't gonna let this one go.
He slipped past them and tapped the speaker on the shoulder.
"'The LOVE of money,'" he said politely. "That's the root of all evil. If you're going to quote, you should quote correctly."
"Look buddy, I could care less what.."
"COULDN'T!" Sam snapped, his voice going up an octave. "You COULDN'T care less, because if you COULD care LESS then you DO care MORE. Doesn't anybody get that?"
CJ and Donna each grabbed an arm and firmly steered Sam towards the door.
"Yeah, well.." the speaker said behind them. "Irregardless of what HE thinks.."
CJ discovered she was holding empty air. "Crap..DONNA, GRAB HIM!"
Lessons (106 words) by Angela
They would learn. Learn he had other things to consume his waking thoughts. Was he doing all that he could? Was he making the right choices?
They would learn. Learn that other things troubled his sleep. Were his dreams unattainable? Was he the only one dreaming?
They would learn. Learn that he had other things to fret about. How much longer could he put off getting a haircut? Was it too soon for another dentist appointment?
They would learn. Learn that his existence did not revolve around Josh. That he was his own man. That he was never as weak as they liked to paint him.
Intervention (100 words) by Jen
"You go in."
"No, you."
Their eyes locked defiantly as raised voices thundered through the closed door. Bonnie sighed and stood up.
"All right. Who shall I use?"
"NSA?"
"Okay." Bonnie stepped over to Sam's door and knocked, then opened the door in a swift movement."
"Excuse me, Mr Shepherd." The furious economist turned towards her. Bonnie continued smoothly,
"Sam, Nancy McNally needs to see you in five."
Sam nodded and stood up, effectively dismissing the other man, who pushed past Bonnie and strode out of the Bullpen.
Sam collapsed into his chair, his features ragged and pale.
"Thanks, Bonnie."
Restless (116 words) by Jen
"Stop kicking me."
"I'm not."
"That's twice now."
"I'm not..."
"Let me hold you...you're twitching! Relax!"
"I can't."
Josh switched on the lamp, rubbing sandpaper eyes.
"What's wrong?"
Sam sat up, eyes alert and panicky, intensely blue.
"I've been...the Crimes speech."
"It's 1.30. Come here." Switched off the light, drew Sam close.
Twenty minutes later, Sam gave up blinking into the dark and slipped out of Josh's arms, settled into a corner of the couch to write.
Josh sensed the cold. Stumbled into the living room.
"It's after four," he croaked.
Sam peeled off his glasses. Stood and stretched. They moved together. Sam rested his forehead against Josh's shoulder.
"Okay?" A gentle embrace. "C'mon."
Beer Bad (100 words) by Abigale
Day over. Night hot.
Spirits high. Vote close. Fists pumped. Smiles wide. Future bright. Bar picked. Round ordered. Toast made. Beer good. Glances exchanged. Glances avoided. Music loud. Dancing rebuffed. Debate fought. Debate won. Laughter giddy. Teasing gentle. Eyes blue. Smile coy. Fingers brush. Cheeks blush. Song stupid. Lyrics mangled. Money combined. Change shiny. Goodnights said. Key cold. Car unlocked. Ride short. Step timid. Stare held. Sigh expelled. Regrets acknowledged. Caution ignored. Hands held. Knees weak. Line crossed. Lips meet. Air gone. Clothes off. Something hard. Cry soft. Arms strong. Words tender. Throat dry. Beer bad.
Day over. Night hot.
Seeing Red (100) by Abigale
"The Bloody Marys here are inspiring," Sam said, opening his menu.
"You're sure about--"
"Leo said 'don't come to work today', Mallory, not 'go find a cave'. I'm having breakfast with a friend." Sam glanced up at her. "'Cause, we are friends, right?"
"Friends don't let friends drive exhausted, so yeah, I'd say we're friends."
Sam looked back at the menu. "Then, as a friend, can I tell you I miss the red?"
"Excuse me?"
"The hair. I liked the red. Fiery. And if we're friends, and keep seeing each other, as friends, I thought I should tell you."
Intervention (100 words) by Abigale
"I'm on a mission from god," Mandy drawled, reaching for and tasting Sam's drink. "...Josh, actually. During the kinkier moments he likes me to call him that."
Sam swung his gaze to her and said, "If I wanted to marry her, I should have cared about seating arrangements??"
"If you wanted to marry her, you should have cared about *her*. Now, we need to go. Blondie's staring at you with a predatory look."
"Really?" Sam said with interest. "'Cause, I can never tell."
"You? Always assume they're looking, Sam. That'll keep you out of trouble."
"I'll try to remember that."
Potential (100 words) by Abigale
"Would you like to take this one or shall I?"
"Why don't you get this one. I'll get... the next one."
In that moment Leo saw something in Sam, before his mind even arranged it into words. It was a flare of something future. A teasing and easy recognition of what was possible. A candidate.
As the president left the podium, Leo knew that he'd just witnessed something cyclical.
"You have this look on your face, Leo. Like you're falling in love with me aaall over again," Jed teased, and Leo blinked back to the present.
"No sir. Not you."
Into the Woods (100 words) by Abigale
Bouncing like a go-go girl, Josh searched Sam's face. "Man! It's the stuff of legends!" He wiped rainwater from his eyes and bounced again. "That was so fucking Man of LaMancha, Sam!"
Sam shivered and pulled up his jacket collar. "That was the most insane, seriously stupid thing I've ever done."
"It was dramatic! Noble, even!" Josh twitched all over.
"And when I have to go back and get my stuff? My laptop...." Sam patted his drenched jacket. "My keys. My Palm Pilot!"
"Uh, yeah." Josh stilled. "That part was dumb." He bounced again. "C'mon. We have places to go!"
School Hard (100 words) by Kacey Linden
"This isn't going to work."
Fourth time he's heard that this morning; maybe the man's right.
"Do you even know what an action verb is?"
It's like having a devil on his shoulder. Except there's no temptation going on here.
"As a matter of fact, I --"
"Do you want me to show you how to use one in a sentence?"
He sighs. "Look --"
"That's better."
He doesn't need this. "Toby --"
A headshake. "Colder."
He's not a fucking student. "Get the hell away from me."
Toby blinks, then smiles, sits. "Excellent. Now, let's go over this speech again."
Killed by Death (100 words) by Kacey Linden
At first, Josh thinks Sam's playing solitaire.
But Sam's just sitting there, staring at the screen, not touching the keyboard --
The clock. Sam's watching the clock.
He glances down.
"CJ's probably giving the President the note now." Quiet, blue eyes still on the computer.
"Yeah."
Sam's lips quirk, a grimace. "Yeah."
"Sam..."
"Don't." Warning, pleading. "Just... don't."
He touches Sam's shoulder; Sam shrugs away. "It's not like Simon Cruz was -- "
"A man?" Flat.
He's almost glad Sam isn't watching him. "Are you going to be okay?"
Sam looks, then. Long, silent, bordering on hateful. "Sure."
The Pack (100 words) by Kacey Linden
He knows something's going on. The air changes. He knows this, now, knows to look for it, how to recognize it.
But he isn't going to ask, won't plead to be let in, not now.
They're moving in a group today--Josh, CJ, Toby--moving fast, talking low.
He isn't listening anymore. Burying himself in useless seatbelt facts, sure, trying to listen, not so much, anymore.
He can knock himself out, after all; he doesn't need them for that.
He hears them approaching, multiple footsteps, murmuring.
So he says, "thank you, sir," words meaningless, empty, and he leaves them behind.
Enemies (100 words) by Kacey Linden
Sam slumps back. "Fine," pushes the laptop towards Toby, "your turn."
A smile, almost predatory.
He won't point out it's only a birthday message to a Deputy Transport Secretary, not when he's spent over four hours on it.
He closes his eyes; the rapid click-click of someone else's typing strange in his office.
Four hours. And nothing that could be described as passable.
"We're good writers, aren't we?" he asks.
A pause. "Well, one of..." Another pause, longer. "Yes."
"Writer's block happens to everyone, right?"
"Yeah."
He nods. "But we're going to conquer it?"
"Hell yes." A sigh. "Your turn."
Touched (100 words) by Kacey Linden
Sam is leaving. It sounds like the end of a story.
He knows it isn't, not really; Sam will come back, after, probably.
But standing in the doorway, watching Sam pack, it feels like an ending.
"More advice?" Sam's looking at him, expectant, smiling.
If only they had more time -- "No, I just..."
Sam's smile widens to a grin. "You do want a hug."
He takes a step back, finger raised in warning. "I swear, Sam, if you -- "
Sam, unfazed, unhesitating, moving in. "Come on, Toby, I'm not contagious."
Submitting to the embrace, he isn't entirely sure that's true.
-Boiled water and crackers.
-Ginger tea settles the stomach.
Walking past Toby, shaking his head, he has nothing to say, there's nothing he wants to hear,
(he's heard enough)
later, just...
(some warning would've been nice)
shutting the door in Toby's face,
much later,
brushing the memory of Leo's hand off his shoulder, closing his eyes against the President's words,
(the President's lies)
listening for other things, the ticking of his watch, the hum of his laptop,
something like dizziness,
sitting down,
down,
it's not like falling, not really,
(can it be called falling when everything's just disintegrated?)
not falling, he tells himself, trying to evaporate into his chair.