Author: Robyn Hazekamp

Rating: PG

Archive: Yep

Notes: Another Sam fic from me. I know it's not accurate, or really
feasible. Whatever, I don't care. It's Sam, and it's all in fun.

Disclaimer: Still not mine, even though I ask really nicely, every
day.

Spoilers: Nooo... Maybe one sentence. Damned if I can remember the ep
name.


"Sam!"
"Yes, Toby." Sam slowed his pace to allow Toby to catch up to him.
"Where have you been? I've been trying to find you for an hour!"
"I was just talking to Josh. What do you need?"
"We have a problem."
Sam didn't seem too concerned. "You understand I don't care, right?
I'm finally on my way home. What's the problem?"
"The President is giving an hour-long speech to the Bored Rich
People's Charity Organization at 10:30 am tomorrow."
Sam stopped dead. "The what?"
"They're a group of bored rich people that do good things."
"They actually called themselves the...?"
"They seem to have a sense of humour about it." Toby, on the other
hand, didn't seem to find it the least bit amusing.
"And since when has the President been giving them a speech?"
"Since an hour ago. They actually called a month ago, but he had an
appointment already."
"So what happened to the appointment?!"
"Canceled. The guy died."
"And the reason the President is not just taking some time off?" Sam
was getting annoyed at having to ask for each bit of information.
"The First Lady and Mrs Landingham are ordering him to go. I think
it's punishment for something."
"Oh, well, there we have the introduction already. 'I don't really
want to be here, but my wife and my secretary made me come!'"
"Sam."
"Does he know we haven't slept in two days?"
"Yes."
"Does he know that it's 6 o'clock and we were going to go home and
actually get some sleep for once?"
"Yes, and he apologizes."
"Did you know that if you're deprived of sleep for long enough, you
actually go crazy?"
"That's very interesting," said Toby, unenthusiastically.
"I'm not doing it. He can wing it."
"Sam, he's the President."
Sam sighed. "I guess we'd better get started."
Toby smiled evilly. "You mean *you'd* better get started."
"What?"
"I'm going home to get some sleep."
"Toby! You can't do this!"
"Sam, I'm your boss. I can do this if I want."
"Toby, I've never written a speech in under 24 hours in my life!" Sam
gesticulated frantically, resisting the urge to shake Toby like a rag
doll.
"It's just an hour long."
"Not even an hour long speech!"
"You did once..."
"Yes, but I wasn't sleep-deprived at the time!"
"You'll do fine. You'll have it finished by 2am. They know it's short
notice, they won't be expecting magic."
"Toby. It took me hours just to write a birthday card."
"Bye, Sam."
"I thought you said you were never letting me write a speech on my
own again!"
"I'm too tired to care, Sam. I'll look it over when I get in
tomorrow. Relax, it's only an hour."
"*Only* an hour?! Toby! You can't go!"
"Really? That's interesting, because, look at me, I'm going."
"Toby!"
"Bye." Toby walked off down the corridor, leaving Sam standing in the
middle of the corridor in shock.

Leo poked his head out of his office, certain he had heard the voice
of at least one person he needed to see. "Sam! Can you come in here?"
"I have to write a speech for the President, Leo."
"This will only take a second."
Sam thought longingly of his bed, then hatefully of Toby, then
fearfully of the speech, then resentfully of the fact that he would
be the only one in the building working late, and then sighed.
"Coming."

Four hours later, Sam finally managed to escape to his office,
carrying the information on the BRPCO that Cathy had put together for
him. He slumped into his chair, switched on his laptop and the lamp
on his desk, rubbed his face wearily, and opened the file.

"Sam? Sam!"
"Hungh!" Sam started and looked around blearily, before allowing his
gaze to settle on Cathy.
"Have you been here all night?" she asked, surprised.
"Mmmf," muttered Sam.
"You finished the speech, right?"
"Wha' speech?"
"The speech that the President is going to give in -" Cathy
glanced
at her watch. "- four hours?"
"S'okay, I got 'til t'morrow to do that."
"It *is* tomorrow."
Sam finally woke up fully. "Cathy! What are you doing here?" He
looked around again, more alert this time, and realized it was
morning. "Oh my God. I fell asleep. Oh my God. What time is it?"
"6:30 am. You didn't finish the speech?"
"Oh, God, Cathy! I... I... I'm dead! I should just kill myself right
now."
"Sam, calm down. Did you get anything done?"
Sam looked at his laptop. "Yeah. I wrote... I wrote one sentence! Oh
my God!"
"Okay, just relax. I'll get you some coffee. Just calm down."
Sam sat still, staring at his laptop with his hands in his hair and
an expression of horror on his face.

He was still sitting like that three minutes later when Cathy brought
coffee. "Sam?" she asked cautiously, setting the mug down on the
desk. "Are you okay?"
"I... I have four hours to write a speech. I... I... Oh, my God."
"Okay, just drink your coffee. It's only an hour long. You have
plenty of time. You work well under pressure."
"I don't work well under pressure! I suck under pressure!"
"Drink your coffee!"
Sam picked up his coffee with a shaking hand and took a sip,
suppressing a scream when it burned his mouth.
"It'll be fine, Sam. Just... get started... and I'll be right back."
Cathy stepped out of the office, and, true to her word, immediately
stepped back in, slamming the door behind her. "Toby's outside!" she
hissed.
Sam choked on his coffee. "Don't let him in!" he managed to wheeze
between coughs.
"Okay. I'll get him away." Cathy opened the door to slip out, and was
dismayed to find Toby standing in front of her.
"Hello, Cathy," he said. "May I come in?"
"Nuh, uh, no. Sam... Sam isn't here."
"I beg your pardon, but he is. I can see him over your shoulder. And
he looks rather worried."
"Uh... oh... dear..." Cathy gave Sam an apologetic look as Toby
pushed past her, then left.

"Hello, Sam."
"Hhhhhhgn... Hello, Toby."
"I came to read over the speech."
Sam said nothing - just stared at his boss with a stricken expression.
Toby groaned. "Sam, what happened?"
"I... I was reading through the file and I must have fallen asleep..."
"Sam!"
"I know!"
"Sam!"
"You left me here, you know! I was just as tired as you were!"
Toby gritted his teeth. "Okay, did you at least come up with a first
draft?"
"I came up... with... a... first sentence."
"Sam!"
"I know!"
"Okay, just... start writing. I'll try and buy us some time."
Sam nodded, bent over his keyboard and started to type, just as Cathy
burst in again. He ignored her.
"Josh is outside!" she said urgently. Sam made a strangled sound.
"Don't let him in!" Toby ordered.
"Oh, and how do you suggest I stop him?"
"Just - I'll do it." Toby stepped outside, but couldn't close the
door before Josh approached him.
"Hi, Toby."
"Hello."
"Sam in there?"
"No."
"I can see him over your shoulder."
"Yes, he's in there," Toby admitted.
"He looks pretty busy typing."
"He's just... putting the finishing touches on the speech."
"Toby! You're not finished yet?"
"We are! We are, we're finished. We're just adding... we're
polishing, is what we're doing."
Josh stared at him. "Polishing. Right."
"Right. So go away and let Sam polish in peace. In fact, I'll come
with you. Let's go."
"But..." Josh protested to no avail as Toby herded him away from
Sam's office, giving Cathy a quick "Don't let him stop writing!" as
he passed her. Cathy watched them go, chewing her lower lip worriedly.

Toby returned fifteen minutes later, to find Sam still frenziedly
typing away.
"They're going to move the President down the list of speakers a
little, so I bought us some time."
"How much time?" asked Sam, without looking up.
Toby closed his eyes and leaned against the door. "Half an hour.
Maybe 45 minutes."
"Half an hour?! Oh, great! That changes everything! A whole 30
minutes!"
"Shut up and keep typing. What've you got so far?"
Sam pointed to some pages by the printer. "Two pages."
"Two pages in fifteen minutes? Hmm." Toby picked up the pages and
skimmed them. "Okay... all right... what does this sentence mean?"
Sam paused in his typing long enough to look at the page. "Put a
comma there," he said, pointing.
"Ah. Oh, I see. Okay. Okay... Fine... This is fine. We will have to
do some editing, and you might want to use some punctuation in this
sentence, Sam."
"Shut up. You got us into this."
"Me? You fell asleep!"
"You should've been here to keep me awake! Or you could've given the
stupid speech to someone else!"
"Shut up and type!"

 

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