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Poet in My Heart Jane Harper RATING: PG-13 SYNOPSIS: Moving day for Sarah, moving-over day for Leo. ARCHIVE: Sure. HTML available on request. DISCLAIMER: I'm just a stowaway on the USS Sorkin. Don't throw me overboard, OK? Pretty please? * * * * * The alarm went off at five-fifteen. Sarah managed to throw herself out of bed and into the shower, and was waiting with one eye open for the driver at six-thirty. They arrived at OEOB a few minutes before the breakfast meeting was to begin. She was putting her briefcase and coat away when the office phone rang. "Sarah Cooper." "Sarah, it's Abbey," the First Lady said. "Hi," Sarah responded. "Listen, Jed wanted me to call and see if there is anything either of us can do or have done for you today. I know what a pain moving is even when you can be there, much more when you can't." "Thanks Abbey, but I think it's all taken care of. Leo's guys are arriving at ten and Mallory is going to meet them at the apartment, make sure the stuff gets loaded and safely delivered, and then return the key. I'm a lot more worried about how I'm going to find anything to wear to work tomorrow!" Sarah's friend laughed. "You forgot what I told you about Box One." "You're right. I should have put one box with absolute necessaries in the van. And I'll be unpacking for two weeks at least, at the rate I'm able to take time to do it." A knock on Sarah's door interrupted her. "Gotta go, Abbey. My master's voice," she laughed. "Do we still have a dinner invitation for next weekend?" "You bet, even if Leo's not home and you and I have to batch it." Sarah knew that if Leo was up to his backside in alligators, chances were that Bartlet would be right there with him, and the two women would be eating alone. "It might even be more fun that way. See you then if not before." Sarah took her portfolio full of briefing memos and headed for the conference room. * * * * * The meeting droned on until midmorning, although the Vice President had been called away long before it adjourned. Sarah returned to her office exasperated, and found an email from Margaret . Himself delayed. Will see you at one at PA Ave entrance. Margaret *Peachy,* she thought. *Breakfast at seven, lunch at one-thirty, I'm gonna eat this desk before he gets here.* By the time Leo's car arrived at one, Sarah was tired and cranky. "Hey, Toots," he said as she got in. "Hey yourself," she answered with a weary smile. "You know, I was sitting there feeling all worn out and grumpy and now I'm all better." She settled in next to him and leaned over on his shoulder. "Don't fall asleep," he warned her with a grin. "I don't understand how you morning people do it. Why did they even _invent_ a clock with single digits??" "Poor love," he murmured, kissing her on the forehead. "Can you sleep in tomorrow?" "If not, I'll just call in dead." She snuggled up to him. "Where are we going?" "New place. You haven't been there before." "Kosher?" "Veggie." "Close enough. You know, Abbey would be proud of you. You're being a good Leo and eating lots of vegetables to bring your nasty lipids down." She giggled. "Nice Leo," he echoed. "Here, have a biscuit." After a beat, he went on. "I have a confession to make, Toots." "You're trading me in for two 25's?" "Please! My heart!" He grabbed his chest in mock distress. "I can barely keep up with _you_!" "Flatterer," she shot back. "Fair point. But that doesn't mean I'm lying!" They pulled up in front of the restaurant and got out, then went in and were seated right away in spite of several patrons waiting for tables. "See what ADA does for you?" Sarah quipped. "Stick with me, McGarry, I'll make sure you get a good table." Once they had ordered and were sipping tea and waiting for their meals, Leo reached over and took Sarah's hand. "I really do have a confession to make," he said. "OK, I'm braced," she responded. "The kitchen-" "Oh no." She shook her head. They had moved heaven and earth to make sure she could continue to keep a kosher kitchen after she moved. "I'm afraid so, Toots. And all this after I studied for months to learn which fork to use." "Is it too late to get my apartment back?" she asked with a sigh. "Afraid so. You're stuck with me." "Oh joy, oh rapture; oh rapture, oh bliss." She laughed and winked at him. "You're not angry?" He gave her a hangdog look. "How can I be angry at _that_face_??" "Seriously," he insisted. "My sweet leprechaun," she began, "if we have to eat off paper plates for awhile, that's fine with me. If we have to exist on kosher Chinese carryout, that's OK too." After a beat, she added, "Kentucky Fried Chicken, however, is out of the question." "Well there goes all the joy in _my_ life," he deadpanned. She grinned back. "Learn to live with frustration." Lunch arrived. * * * * *
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