TITLE: Something Funny Happened On The Way To The White House
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them. Just borrowing. Aaron Sorkin is God.
NOTES: See Part 1
SUMMARY: Just a really strange day in the West Wing.

"I'm just saying, you guys are wimps on education." Dylan exclaimed. Toby
rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to smack the kid.
"We're not wimps. We just haven't gotten to it yet." He growled.
"Oh, come on. You've been in office nearly 18 months and you 'haven't
gotten to it yet'? That's a pitiful thing to say to a student." She retorted.
"I mean, the only thing you've really accomplished is getting Mendoza on to
the bench."
"See now, he's a strong education guy." Toby pointed out.
"Oh, please. He's a judge. He's not going to pass any laws that raise
teacher's salaries or funding for schools. Now you guys passed that really
cool thing ages ago, so I'll cut you some slack." She replied.
"You got way too much lip for a kid." He grunted.
"Just because I'm 17 years old, doesn't mean I don't know anything."
Dylan replied with a smirk. "At least, I'm smart enough not to close a car
window on my fingers." She added in a mutter.
"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that." Toby exclaimed.
"Admit it, I'm making some sense, aren't I?" She added. Toby shrugged.
"I choose to plead the fifth at this instance." He replied dryly as his
eyes darted across the room. He spotted Josh talked to the teacher of the
classroom quite artfully. The woman laughed while Josh looked nervously at
his feet. Always the charmer, that Josh, even in leather pants. Perhaps,
*especially* in leather pants. Oh, there was a thought Toby did not want to
deal with.

"No, seriously. I'm not kidding." Josh insisted with a grin. Miss Betty
Miralson laughed again and patted him on the shoulder, trying not to focus on
the tight red pants her conversation partner was wearing.
"Well, it sounds like you're all the better for it, though I would think
as a politician you would have learned a little bit more self control by now,
no?" She asked playfully, scooting about an inch closer to her. Josh grinned
and shrugged as he leaned against the wall.
"Well, I've always had something of a problem with self control." He
admitted coyly. Betty blushed slightly and bit her lip in that way that Josh
had noticed women tended to do when they liked what he was saying. He smiled
a little bit wider and opened his mouth to say something when someone
interrupted; someone who sounded considerably more annoyed than Betty had.
"Josh, the President needs you." Donna said sharply. Josh looked at her
and raised an eyebrow. She seemed to be eyeing Betty suspiciously, almost . .
. No, he wasn't even going to go there.
"No, he doesn't. He's talking to that kid." Josh said, pointing. Donna
didn't look.
"Josh, he said I had to come get you. Are you going to defy the wishes of
the President of the United States?" She asked pointedly.
"It's all right, Mr. Lyman." Betty said softly. "We can talk some more
some other time." She added.
"Of course. I'll talk to you soon." Josh promised with a dazzling grin
before following Donna, careful to strut a little in case Betty wanted a nice
view of the pants. "I gotta say, Donna, these pants are a blessing. I can get
used to them."
"Oh, please." Donna muttered.
"So what does the president need me for?" Josh asked. Donna paused.
"He doesn't need you. I made it up." She replied.
"I figured. Why?" Josh replied. She looked at him, a little surprised.
"You figured?" She repeated.
"Yeah." He said with a coy grin. "But I didn't figure out why. Why did
you make that up, Donna? I was having a good time."
"She's not a good person to have fun with. I can just tell." Donna
replied.
"What, did you check out her FBI file? Come on, Donna, she's a teacher.
We were having a nice conversation." Josh said with a small pout.
"I didn't hae to check out her FBI file. I have a sense about these
things, Josh. I just know you shouldn't waste your time with her. Besides,
it's inappropriate to flirt with women at an official white house event with
the press watching." Donna retorted matter-of-factly.
"I wasn't flirting." Josh protested.
"You were flirting, Josh." Donna retorted darkly.
"You're just jealous."
"What?"
"You are!"
"I am not!"
"Why are you jealous, Donna?"
"I'm not jealous, Josh."
"Yes, you are, Donna."
"Grow up."
"Where's the fun in that?"

"Senator Cartwell, thank you for seeing me on such notice." Sam said as
he got to his feet and offered his hand. The tall, slender, middle-aged
senator smiled sweetly and shook his hand gracefully.
"Of course, Sam. I always have time for you. I mean, Mr. Lyman is just a
waste of political energy, but you, you're always a reasonable person to talk
to." She said sweetly. Sam blushed a little and offered her a seat. She sat
down and watched him carefully as he took his seat.
"Well, I'm flattered. Senator Cartwell, I was just wondering if we could
talk about--" Sam started.
"Oh, don't worry about it, Sam. I'm sure the EPA protection bill will
pass on its own merits." Cartwell interrupted.
"We just wanted to be sure that if you had any questions, they could be
reasonably answered, senator." Sam said a little uncertainly.
"No, I'm quite satisfied with my position." She replied, and please, call
me Angie." She said with a smile and a wink. Sam blushed a little bit and
looked at his hands for a moment before looking at her again.
"Um, and what might that position be?" He asked weakly. Cartwell paused.
"Sam, I'd love to sit and talk to you about this, but I really am running
out of time. What say we have dinner tonight at a time when I can discuss
this more thoroughly?"
"Uh, I appreciate that, senator, but--"
"Great. Meet me at the Lobster at seven. We'll talk about this then."
Cartwell said as she got to her feet. "Remember, call me Angie. Bye now." She
called as she hurried off and out the door. Sam paused and looked at the
bartender.
"I'm in trouble. Yep. Big, big trouble." He said. The bartender stared at
him blankly. "Right. Aren't bartenders supposed to be the helpful ear?" Sam
asked. The bartender stared at him blankly. "Fine. Can I have my check?" He
asked. The bartender moved faster than lightening.

"Did you know that in some parts of South Africa--" Jed started
"Probably." Dylan's voice interrupted.
"You should learn not to interrupt people." He warned.
"You should learn not to bore the snot out of people." She retorted.
"Don't you know any manners?"
"Probably at one point in my life, I did."
"What happened?"
"I became a teenager."
"Isn't that right?"
"And my parents died." She added before sipping her punch and looking out
at her friends. Jed paused. She shrugged and glanced at him. "Since then, I
really haven't cared what people think of me, and that includes even you, Mr.
President." She added. "I haven't needed to care."
"I'm sorry." He said suddenly.
"Hell, you didn't kill them. A plane did. Or a storm that hit the plane
or something, I don't know."
"I'm still sorry."
"Well, don't be. It's not going to do you, me or them any good."
"You're very antisocial, you know that?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because Miralson forced me."
"Why?"
"You know for someone who's thirty years older, you sure sound like a lot
of my classmates. Why why why why why? I don't know; because she did, okay?"
"Hey, now, I'm gonna have to draw the l--" Jed started, getting a little
ticked but not knowing just how far off he was from her worst side.
"Listen to me, you may think you're better than me cause you're so much
older and because you're the President of the United States. Well, you know
what? Respect is earned, not given away. I didn't vote for you; I probably
would have if I could have, but I didn't. You're not officially *my*
representative so don't expect me to treat you like the king or something,
okay? I ain't impressed by approval ratings or trivia games. I don't wanna be
here any more than you want me here. Just leave me alone, okay?" Dylan
interrupted and stormed off for the doors. Jed stood there dumbly and then
looked at Toby Ziegler who had moved to his side.
"What the heck just happened?" He asked. Toby shrugged.
"You just met the wrath of Dylan. I don't know what's up with that kid,
and I've long since passed the point of caring. Punch?" He asked as he began
to scoop himself another glass. Jed stared at him blankly.
"This country..." He started.
"Yes, sir?" Toby asked.
"Is going to the hell in a handcart." Jed muttered.
"Yes, sir." Toby agreed.

"Margaret."
"Yes, Leo?"
"What's this?"
"It's a report."
"On what?"
"I can't see."
"Here."
"It's a report on the difference between raisin bran and muffin bran."
"I could tell that."
"Then why did you ask me?"
"What's it doing on my desk?"
"You need to read it."
"I do?"
"Yes. Leo, the overwhelming statistics show that the raisin bran muffins
are 10% more harmful to your cholesterol system than the regular bran
muffins. This report--"
"Margaret."
"Yes, Leo?"
"Do I care?"
"No, Leo."
"Dispose of that please."
"Yes, Leo."

"Sam."
"Mallory, hey!"
"Sam, did you see Angelina Cartwell today?"
"Now, Mallory, hang on a sec--"
"Did you see her??"
"Yes, but only bec--"
"I specifically told you never to talk to *that* woman!"
"Mal, I know. I heard you. Normally Josh talks to her, but he refused
bec--"
"What did she say? Huh? What did she say??"
"Uh, well, Mal-"
"What did she say, Sam??"
"She said she had to leave but that we could talk over dinner."...
"Mal?"
"She hit on you????"
"I didn't say that!"
"I read between the lines, Sam. Did she hit on you?"
"I really don't know."
"Of course you know."
"I don't, Mal."
"I'm gonna kill that woman!"
"Mal, come back!"

"Donna?"
"What, Josh?"
"You still jealous?"
"I was never jealous, Josh. I was saving you."
"Saving me?"
"Yes, saving you."
"From what, having fun?"
"You wouldn't have had fun with her. She's not your type."
"And you know my type, Donna?"
"Yes, Josh, I know your type."
"What's my type?"
"Not her."
"You sure?"
"Positive?"
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I'm sure."
"But how--"
"Josh."
"What?"
"Leave me alone."
"No. You took me away from my conversationalist, so now I get to bother
you."
"Oh, God."
"Maybe I can get the President to tell us some more nice trivia."
"I like the trivia."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"There's something kinda freakish about you, you know that?"
"I'm eclectic, Josh."
"You're eccentric, Donna."
"Same difference."

TBC...

 

Something Funny Happened On The Way To The White House - 4

 

 

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