***West Wing is the property of Aaron Sorkin, et al. Not me, please don't 
***Comments welcome, please no flames, Thank You.***
***In this story, I am bringing the time women were allowed to enter into 
combat situations about five years back. <<Denotes flashback>>*** 

Samantha sat in the dark, staring at a bottle of scotch. Terrible memories 
were flooding her. A knock sounded on her door. She made her way to answer 
it; who was there astounded her.
"What do you want, Leo?"
"To come in?" 
She stepped back, allowing him to enter. He quickly took in the bottle of 
scotch, the depressing music on the stereo, and the darkness of the room. She 
flopped back down on the couch, "I'm offering my letter of resignation to 
you, if you want it, or the President requests it." Leo was worried. There 
was no life in her tone, almost as though she just couldn't force herself to 
care. He switched on a lamp and looked around the apartment. CJ was pictured 
often, as was an attractive young man in a flight suit. There were several 
recent pictures of her and Jed, her and Josh, and her and........him? He 
stepped forward to look closely at the picture and realized that it had been 
taken at the state dinner, about a week ago. The were both in formal dress 
and she had said something funny, because he was laughing as the camera took 
the picture. There were two flight helmets sitting on a bookshelf, one with 
'Charger' emblazoned across it, the other with 'Joker' . He turned and saw a 
framed burial flag, and a case of medals. 
"I'm not that mad," he said quietly.
"Take this away from me please?"
"The scotch?"
"Just pour it out!" The pleading in her tone went straight to his heart. He 
picked up the bottle and the glass and poured them both out.
"CJ saved my life, you know," she said softly.
<< "Sammy! You can't do this to yourself! Chris wouldn't want you to do this 
to yourself! Put the glass down! Stop drinking!>>
"What do you mean?"





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