Ok, guys, I'm trying something new here. I've not written using multiple points of view before; let me know if the switch back and forth works, or if it's distracting. Thanks.
Synopsis: Sarah's past comes back to haunt her; Mallory pays her dad back; Leo gets a new "guy"; and the West Wing is haunted by leprechauns.
Archive: Be my guest but please let me know. HTML version available upon request.
Disclaimer: I'm just a stowaway on the USS Sorkin; please don't throw me overboard. Sarah can't swim.
TEASER: ==Monday Morning, 0500==
Sarah Cooper was emphatically not a morning person; that was the _down_side of sleeping with the President's Chief of Staff. Leo McGarry was up _before_ the chickens four days out of five. He usually let her sleep until he was dressed and ready to leave, since she wasn't normally required to be at her office in the Old Executive Office Building until eight am. So he answered her phone on this Monday morning after they'd spent Sunday night together.
"Yeah," he said.
A moment passed.
"Mr. Vice President, yes, it's me. You want me to wake her up?"
"I'm awake," she said into her pillow. She turned over and reached for the phone. "Yes, Mr. Vice President, what can I do for you?"
"Sarah, I need to see you. Now. Can Leo's car bring you or do you want me to send one?"
"I'll come in with him, sir. I'll be there in..." - she looked over at Leo, who flashed both hands at her twice - "... twenty minutes. Is that all right, sir?"
"Yes. Come straight to my office." The line went dead.
She launched herself into her wheelchair and grabbed a skirt, jacket, and blouse from the closet; seven minutes flat until the two of them were at the curb as Leo's driver pulled up. McGarry stepped into the back and helped Sarah transfer to the seat across from him.
"Mike," he began, not noticing the young woman standing by the door, "I need to have you drop Sarah-"
"Mike's on vacation, Mr. McGarry. I'll be driving you this week and next; my name is Catherine Giddings."
"I'm very happy to meet you, Catherine," Leo responded. "Can you stow Sarah's wheelchair in the trunk, please? She needs to be at the OEOB as soon as you can get us there."
"Yes, sir," she answered, and closed the door behind them.
The car fax beeped to announce that something had come through. Sarah pulled it free and handed it to him.
"Damn," he said, opening his briefcase and jamming the fax into it.
Sarah looked over at him. His normally hazel eyes had begun to look steely gray, and that meant he was angry. "Something you can tell me about?" she asked.
"It'll be on CNN by the time I get to the West Wing," he responded. "The Israelis are doing their level best to piss us off."
For the rest of the ride, Leo pored over briefing memos, and Sarah stared out the window. As they pulled up at OEOB, he reached over to kiss her goodbye. "Whatever it is, if it's bad news, we'll fix it," he reassured her.
"If it were good news," she asked, "would he have called me at 5?"
* * * * *
Leo sauntered through the hallways of the West Wing that were bustling even this early, and he noticed that people were looking at him and smiling, then looking away. Beginning to feel like the kid in the third grade with the "Kick Me" sign taped to his back, he strode through the bullpen to his outer office. Margaret wasn't in yet, so he pulled the overseas reports out of her in-box and walked into his sanctum. Dropping his briefcase next to the desk, he took off his topcoat, unbuttoned his jacket...
... and looked up to see a four-foot-tall fully-articulated stuffed leprechaun with sandy hair and reading glasses sitting in his chair.
* * * * *
Sarah went straight into the Vice President's outer office without even removing her coat. She knocked at the door.
"Come in," Hoynes said. "Is that you, Sarah?"
The Vice President was behind his desk. On the sofa were his Press Secretary, Mark Macmillan, and his Chief of Staff, Elaine Thompson. Sarah came to a stop directly in front of Hoynes. "Yes, sir. You wanted to see me?"
He walked out from behind his desk, to a point directly in front of where Sarah was sitting, and leaned against its forward edge. Folding his arms and crossing his ankles, he asked, "In May of 1970, did you deliver to the U.S. Attorney in Los Angeles a signed statement admitting complicity in several cases of felony evasion of the United States Selective Service?"