Stressed, part two. And all.
Three hours and fifteen minutes later, Toby and Sam sat in a limo
with POTUS, on his insistence. Sam was still typing away on his
POTUS watched him in silence for a second. "What's he doing?" he
asked Toby eventually.
"He's just polishing your speech, sir."
"Polishing," confirmed Toby, surreptitiously leaning back to see what
Sam was writing.
"Shouldn't it be finished by now?"
"It *was* short notice, sir."
"Yes, but shouldn't it be printed out, or on a teleprompter or
"It's a small room, sir, you will be reading from notes. Mandy
decided that it would be more intimate. And we will have plenty of
time to print it out when we get there."
"I would have liked a chance to actually read over it before I have
to deliver it, you know."
"So that I wouldn't actually have to read the whole thing."
"Well, anyway, you shouldn't type in a car. It's bad for your eyes."
"I'll tell him that when he stops concentrating so hard, sir."
Shortly after that, Sam wearily handed the President a printout of
the finished speech. POTUS glanced at it.
"What's this sentence mean?" he asked, puzzled.
Sam winced. "Put a comma there." He pointed.
"Oh. Oh, I see. Ah."
"... honoured to introduce the President of the United States!"
"That's your cue, sir."
The President nodded, and walked up to the podium.
Toby and Sam sagged with relief as the President delivered the
closing line of his speech and returned to his seat, accompanied by
"I can't believe we pulled that off," Sam gasped. "Look at me,
"Great speech, Sam!" Josh slapped Sam on the shoulder.
"Yeah, you must have been up all night on that one," put in CJ.
"Ahaha," said Sam. "I'm going to go home now."
"You certainly deserve the rest of the day off," said Leo, who was in
a rare good mood. "I'll arrange it."
"You're the Chief of Staff. Why do you need to *arrange* anything?"
"Okay, poof! It's arranged," Leo announced, glaring at Josh.
"You couldn't just give it to him? What's to arrange?"
"Shut up, Josh."
"Okay." Josh shrugged and wandered off to find Donna, so he could
yell at her for no good reason. He might as well enjoy the ten
minutes he had free before they had to return to the White House.
"Don't I get a day off?" Toby asked sulkily.
"Were you up all night writing this speech?"
"Then why are you even asking?" Suddenly remembering he had better
things to do than talk to Toby, Leo sauntered off without even a wave
"Humph," muttered Toby.
"Toby, I just gotta say..." Sam said, noting that they were alone.
"You ever do that to me again and I'll kick your ass."
"I outrank you. You can't kick my ass."
"I'll find a way to get the President to demote you, and then I'll
kick your ass from here to Canada."
Toby shrugged. "If you think you could take me..."
"Oh, I could take you."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night."
"You just keep thinking that in your, you know, deluded little mind."
"Hey, guys. Good speech."
Charlie stared at the two of them, a faint, knowing smile on his face.
"What?" Sam asked eventually.
"You weren't up all night on that speech at all, were you? You fell
Sam coughed. "What... gave you that idea?"
"I have my ways of finding these things out. That speech was a rush
"You pulled it off, though, so I guess that's okay."
"You won't tell anyone?"
"No. Well, maybe just Zoey." Charlie grinned wickedly.
Sam stared at him for a few seconds before saying, "I'm going home
"Go home and get some sleep," Charlie agreed.
"Sleep," repeated Sam. Sleep sounded good. Lots of sleep - and
tomorrow, he would be wide awake without any emergency speech-writing
sessions to face. Sleep. Oh, yes.
He took two steps away from Charlie and Toby, then turned back. "You
know I could take you with one hand behind my back, right?"
"Keep dreaming," Toby replied.
"I could. Probably even both hands."
"And one foot..."
"Okay. And, Toby..."
"Don't do it again."
"Shoo. You're bothering me."
Toby watched Sam go, shaking his head slightly. One thing was for
sure, he wouldn't do it again. It just wasn't worth the stress.