No, Toby; I'm just going to sit here and bask in your glorious praise.... "I'm on it."

"And Leo's notes on Detroit...."

"I'm skipping around, but I've already re-worked the middle section."

The pen Toby had been idly twirling came to an abrupt stop in his hand. "And the Cotton Candy speech, you were going to help Larry out on that...."

He'd hoped Toby would stay away from that one. Sam had an ever so slight hangover, and his game plan for the day was to avoid any and all yelling.

"I deleted it. To hell and back."

"You wha- ?!"

"It was worse than awful."

"It needed polish!"

"It had to go."

"GO?!"

"I'm fixing it."

"We need it TOMORROW!"

"And you'll have it. And it will be a brilliant luminous thing you can hold in your hand, and you'll be sorry you ever doubted me."

"I'm sorry I ever hired you."

Back in his own office now, the first handful of Advil securely in his stomach, Sam leaned back in his chair and raised his feet onto his desk. He was having a good day. And it felt mildly dangerous to be reflecting on it so early, but then Sam had been feeling a little reckless lately. Or, a lot reckless. And he knew he was headed for trouble. But right now, he was having a good day, and he was going to enjoy it for all the 10 minutes it was likely to last.

"Senior Staff in five, Sam." He didn't mind the way his name sounded when Bonnie said it.

Scooping up his notebook and double checking that his pen was in his pocket, Sam started towards Leo's office, gratefully accepting the envelope that was thrust at him by a staffer. "This just came for you," she told him.

First to arrive, Margaret waved Sam into Leo's office, telling him the Chief of Staff was still with the President and would be delayed. Sam arranged himself on the sofa, and began flipping through the papers he had been handed moments before.

Slowly drifting into the room, CJ, Toby, and Josh took up various positions around Leo's desk, Josh colliding into Sam on the sofa. "Hey. Nice tie."

"Hmm?" This couldn't be right. Sam was still leafing through the sheaf of papers, nearly oblivious to Josh's proximity.

"...makes this godawful clanking noise. It sounds as if I'm dragging cans behind my car." What was CJ saying, something about cans? Her voice drifted in and out as Sam tried to bring what he was reading into sharper focus.

"Did you check to see if there actually were cans being dragged behind?" Josh, sounding very far away. Hadn't he sat down right next to Sam?

"Exposure." Sam's voice was hoarse, his tongue felt desperately dry. And the word was almost lost as Leo breezed into the room.

"I have a meeting right on top of this, so let's get swinging, shall we?" Leo began, but Josh didn't hear him. Turned in his seat, he was staring at Sam's pale face, and was the only one that seemed to notice the confusion there.

Josh placed a steadying hand on Sam's arm, pulling the papers in his hand around so he could read them. "You look like your best friend just ate your dog. Or, you know.... "

All eyes in the room on them now, and Josh still had no clue what was going on. Sam looked near tears. Wordlessly, he shoved the document into Josh's hand and rose unsteadily to his feet.

"What the hell's going on?" Leo's impatience finally cutting through Sam's fogginess.

"Charlotte Stiles. She's... a lesbian." Sam's voice sounded tight and low.

"What?!" Gasped four different ways by four different people, all of whom were flocking around the pages in Josh's hands.

Sam whipped his glasses off his face and stumbled to the farthest side of the room, as far from the document, Leo, his friends, as he could get. Like a schoolboy, being made to stand in the corner when he'd screwed up, only no one was making him, he was going there all by himself.

Toby's voice reaching across the room now, speaking directly to Sam. How had Toby found him? He thought he was invisible, here behind Leo's door.

"Where did this come from? How do we know it's true? Sam, GET OVER HERE!"

Turned towards them now, his back to the wall for support, Sam, clutching his glasses, placed his hands over his face and shook his head. He needed to chew on his words, chew them until they were small enough that he wouldn't choke when they came out. "It's true, I knew. I've always known."

"That the President's nominee for assistant attorney general for civil rights is gay?" CJ's tone was incredulous, and Sam briefly wondered if he was more afraid of her right now, more than anyone. "And you never once mentioned it, not in one meeting, one discussion? There is something disturbing about you, Sam," she spit at him, drenching him in her disgust.

Hands down, ready to accept the glaring stares, Sam moved back towards Leo's desk.

"I know." He knew. Now. But then, it seemed like the right thing to do. Stiles was closeted, and it wasn't Sam's place. And even if he'd felt it had been, he never would have been the one. He'd wrestled with this, 6 months ago when they were throwing the names of nominees around. Stiles came up again and again, and everyone was so enthusiastic....

And it wasn't as if the woman had concealed a degenerative disorder from the American public, then asked them to elect her to an important political and moral position. Fuck!

Maybe it was the copious amounts of alcohol he'd had last night. Or the massive quantity of Advil he'd downed just 30 minutes ago on an empty stomach. Whatever it was, it wanted to come out and play with the big boys. Sam lunged for the wastebasket and doubled over.

"Get him the hell out of here," growled Leo.

**

There was just no good way to do this, mused Josh, seated as close as he could get to Sam on the stiff sofa in the Oval Office. No good way to tell Sam he'd really blown this sky high. "That was pretty spectacular, Sam." Josh's best attempt to soothe Sam while he'd hyperventilated in the men's room hadn't seemed to help much. He was ready to put his arm around his shoulder right there, when the President and Leo entered from the portico.

Josh was impressed when Sam rose to his feet on his own, and stood there holding the President's steady gaze until they were just a foot apart. "Mr. President?" There was no disguising the fear in Sam's whispered question.

"Josh, would you step out, please?"

No, Mr. President, I really don't think I will. Because either Sam's gonna pass out or hurl on your shoes; either way I'd like to be here to -- "Yes, sir."

"Have a seat, Sam." President Bartlet moved to stand behind a chair, hands gripping the fabric. "Tell me how this happened." Was he gnashing his teeth?

Two more breaths, Sam promised himself. Two more deep breaths to fill his lungs with air, and he would be able to speak, be able to sound coherent. One. Two.

"Mr. President. Leo. I made a terrible mistake. Obviously. At the time... it was information I'd learned outside our vetting process. Years ago, when I'd done some pro bono work for Stiles in New York. She never specifically asked me not to tell anyone, but I felt that if it wasn't something easily uncovered during our investigation, it would probably be safe. And since I wasn't involved in any way in the - "

"So where did this document you got come from?" Leo wanted to know. Sam wanted to know too.

Did Sam's voice always sound this way, strangled? "I don't know. It was sent to me. No return address, no cover letter. I just don't know." Defeat was gnawing at his him now, threatening to devour him.

"I'm beginning to wonder about some of your 'friends,' Sam. You appear to have become a kind of conduit for information outside forces want to share with this administration." Bartlet's voice had softened.

"I went on tv. When we announced Stiles, it was me on all the shows." It was the only reason Sam could think of that people felt they could come to him with their secrets. Because if they knew Sam, personally knew him or had any idea who he really was, they wouldn't trust him with their laundry. "I should... someone has to call Charlotte." Like it had only just occurred to him, even though it was all Sam had been thinking since he'd read the steadily blurring words.

**

In the end, it wasn't CJ Sam should have been afraid of. Or even President Bartlet. It was Toby, trapping him here in his office, stalking back and forth in front of the door.

"...when she gets here, you leave. Do you hear me Sam? I want you nowhere near this building." And Sam wasn't quite sure if Toby meant for the meeting, or forever. "We want to hear it from her mouth, that she never asked you to lie." Hadn't they just been through all this, with the President? About the President? Really, he ought to be better at this after all that practice.

Every so often, Sam would see Josh drifting past his window into the bullpen. The first two times it looked as if Josh was actually passing through, and had pitched Sam a distracted glance. The last four times it was pretty obvious he had run out of legitimate reasons to be there, and it appeared now that he'd given up all pretenses. He was standing there with his hands on his hips, nose practically pressed up against the glass.

Casting Josh a look over his shoulder, Toby bellowed "Oh for crying out loud, get in here!"

Josh scampered through the door, closing it behind him.

"You know, I'm just thinking," Josh began, as though he'd been in the room the entire time. "This could end up being a huge benefit. Having a gay assistant attorney general for civil rights is actually very cool. There's no reason this can't work to our advantage."

Even Sam had to groan. "And you thought *I* was naive. Josh, it would have been great. If she was out. But she's been living a double life. And I - unlike CJ with President Bartlet - had this information and chose not to disclose it. She's toast. Not to mention the scrutiny our vetting process is going to come under." Sam reached for the drawer and contemplated giving a few Tylenol a whirl.

Until Toby spoke quietly. "Or not." Had he really said that? And why would he? It couldn't be to make Sam feel better, because god knew, just half an hour ago Toby was plotting ways to make Sam feel very very bad. "Let the spin begin."