"Sam, it's going to be fine!" she yelled with a sigh.

The spry munchkin dove from the stairs for the `tent' made from the piano bench and his father's suit jacket. Granted, that trick worked better when he was several inches shorter and several pounds lighter. He cringed when he saw his mother's navy flats inches from his nose.

"I would tell you we'll go for a milkshake after, but that really defeats the purpose."

She wasn't moving and Sam wasn't breathing.

"What would entice you out of there?"

Sam pondered that then grinned broadly, about to speak.

"And don't ask to get out of the appointment, that's not going to work."

His smile vanished.

"Sam, I'm counting to three."

"Oh, hon, you're just going to scare him." Penny loafers appeared behind the navy flats.

Sam suddenly feared his `tent' would vanish--he'd put on the coat and lift the piano bench away. Instead, a face appeared at the `entrance.'

"Son?"

Sam looked to see if he could make a break for it.

"Why don't you come on out, hm? I'll take you to a Laker game if you go."

"Really?" Sam asked cautiously.

"Of course."

"Not worth it," Sam decided, cowering under the jacket, closing his mouth tightly.

"Get your picture taken with the Laker Girls."

Sam made a face.

"Still don't like girls, do you?"

He shook his head.

"How `bout this: take you to the Laker game and take you with me on my next business trip to D.C.? Show you the Capitol, the White House, tour the FBI headquarters, see the monuments?"

Sam seriously considered that.

His father smiled, knowing Sam probably wouldn't refuse, but he sweetened the deal anyway. "Just two guys out on the town, Mom on the whole other side of the country... No bedtime. We'll paint the town red, two swingin' hep-cats taking our nation's capital by storm. Maybe even sail on the Potomac if we've got the time or inclination."

"Well..."

"Well?"

"Okay."

"Atta boy, son." He flashed a dazzling smile. "You want a pearly smile for the ladies later, don't you?"

Sam frowned. "But, the cavity is on my back molar..."

~~~

Sam Seaborn grew up loving basketball, sailing, the intrigue of power from D.C., and sugarless gum. He had learned that fateful Friday to take care of his teeth, because they'd take care of him.

He became nuts for dental hygiene thanks to the fear from an early cavity.

His... obsession? became quite annoying for his campaign trail roommate during the 1998 Bartlet for America trip. Sam had two shaving kits. One carried his shaving things, the other was loaded with tooth cleaning paraphernalia with a variety of things Josh didn't know how to use let alone the names of them.

"And Lisa's cool with your hygiene high jinx?"

"Josh, it's not high jinx. It's called taking care of my teeth."

"Brush `em if you're near a sink at the beginning and/or end of a day, floss once a millennia. See? I'm good. No cavities or otherwise horrible tooth problems since 1995."

Sam looked at him. "Have you been to the dentist since 1995?"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

Sam smiled and started swishing his mouthwash.

"I don't see the point in all the mint; you still get morning breath."

Sam swished.

"Lisa finds this attractive?"

Sam stopped swishing for a split second before continuing.

"If I were a woman, I'd tell you: brush `em if you're near a sink at the beginning and/or end of the day, floss once a millennia."

Sam spit it out. "And Mandy finds *that* attractive?"

Josh grinned. "I'm deadly charming, too."

"Sure you are."

"I am. And you didn't answer my question before, granted, it might've been gross with mouthwash dribbling down your chin." He made a face as he said that.

"About your not having a cavity and not going to the dentist? Quite obviously it has to do with the fact that--"

"No, about Lisa."

"Let's not go there, hm?"

~~~

Telling a complete stranger about his sexual escapades and pleading for mercy wasn't exactly a place he wanted to go either. "Now would you please, in the name of compassion, tell me which one of those kids is my boss's daughter?"

The redhead looked at him with wide eyes. "That would be me."

"You."

"Yes."

"Leo's daughter's fourth grade class..."

"Yes."

Par for the course. Face it, Seaborn, can't get much worse, can it? "Well, this is bad on so many levels." The philosophy of his father seemed to kick in naturally and he smiled. Ms. O'Brien seemed unimpressed.

Well, he told himself as she returned to her kids, it had worked last night. Or maybe, it hadn't. Laurie was a call girl. He was just a guy with nice teeth, probably a grand step up from her `customers.'

~~~

That day from hell ended, and new ones quickly jumped in line to take its place. Such was the life of the Senior Staff, especially as they sat in a boring meeting in Leo's office. "Last item--" began Leo, but the cheering from Josh interrupted him. The Chief of Staff cleared his throat and his deputy was successfully and swiftly silenced. "Capitol Beat has requested a rep from the White House to take on a Republican on the education package, which means... education and budget."

"This isn't something better suited by a member of the Education or Appropriations Committees in Congress?" asked Toby.

"They want one of us `cause it's the President's plan and they wanna know what bills he'll veto or pass to get it when the budget rolls around," explained Leo.

"Who do we send?" asked Josh.

"Quite obviously not you," said C.J.

"C'mon, the GOP rep isn't from the fanatical religious right, is he or she or it or devil spawn?"

Leo shot him a disdainful look. "Not as far as I know."

"See, I'd be okay."

"Still too soon for you, Josh," said Leo.

"Will I ever be forgiven for that?"

"Don't hold your breath. Toby, what'cha doin' that night?"

Toby looked at the Chief of Staff matter-of-
factly. "Watching whomever we send take on the Right on TV from my office."

"C.J.?"

"Budgeting matters aren't my thing. I'm not a numbers cruncher."

"Then, that leaves Sam." The Chief of Staff turned to the youngest Senior Staffer.

"He advises the President on domestic policy, like... education and budget," said Toby.

"He won't embarrass us on national TV by mouthing off," added C.J.

"He has nice teeth. Ladies like the smile, Sam," said Josh.

"He has a feeling that this has been planned," Sam said flatly.

"You mind doing it, Sam?" asked Leo.

"Nope."

"Great."

~~~

Sam had no idea that going on TV was going to be quite so traumatic. Toby and Josh were laying in wait in the communications bullpen after Sam's appearance on Capitol Beat and trashing by young Republican whippersnapper Ainsley Hayes.

"Oh, Sam," started Josh. "That was... Y'know, we should start a contest--who tanks worst on Capitol Beat."

"My job is at stake now, is it?" asked Sam, slight bitterness in his voice.

Josh cleared his throat. "So, I may hold the grand prize, but tonight has got to be a *serious* contender for first runner up."

"And who sent me on TV? Oh, yeah... As my acceptance speech for the `first runner up'..." He picked up a bottle of water from Ginger's desk, holding it like an Emmy. "I'd like to thank Josh for being a particular jerk, and Toby for watching my failure and laughing over *popcorn*!"

"How'd you know?"

"C.J. ratted you out," he said, slamming the bottle down.

"Sam--" started Josh.

The youngest Senior Staffer held up his hand, walked past them into his office, and slammed the door.

"But, he had a glowing smile..."

~~~

Sam eventually understood Toby's formerly inexplicable habit of tossing a rubber ball incessantly at the window between their offices; it was better than banging one's head on something and causing severe pain. Did he even have a voice anymore? Pennies and seatbelts and possible but monumentally unlikely chances of the President being sued due to an inane question he answered once upon a time... That's what his job as Deputy Communications Director was boiling down to.

He'd been briefed about Mad Cow ten minutes before the public at large was informed.

Was he just a `pretty face' of the administration? Because his voice sure as hell wasn't carrying very far at all anymore. He didn't even have anyone to say, "What Sam really means--" like Connie for Doug.

How'd he get sucked into this? How'd he wind up sitting yards from the President in the Oval Office on a daily basis without having any influence whatsoever? All he had wanted to do was work for the President. That had been it. To work, to do good. Instead, all he had was a nice office and a realization that something he'd said to C.J. a long time ago might actually be true.

"Your teeth are the best friends you've got C.J."

Josh didn't talk to him about the important issues. He and Toby were still at slight odds after the drop-in in the GDC speech. And now, he was about to go before the firing squad and face Congressman Bruno and his Congressional committee.

He sat alone in his office in the dark solitude. He'd sent Josh and Toby and C.J. away. He had a feeling he'd be summoned to Leo's office for a last-minute pep talk before taking the Hill.

Sure enough, Ginger stuck her head in his door. "Leo's office called."

Sam looked blankly at her. "Why don't you just say that Margaret called?"

"You need to head over there."

"Margaret called, Leo wants to see you. That's seven words compared to your... nine. Okay, so you don't save much, but I do know Leo and I do know Margaret and it's a more direct way of... Oh, who gives a God damn?" He pushed himself up with a heavy sigh and started for the Chief of Staff's office.

The staffers in the corridors gave him a wide berth--they all knew what was happening that day. They'd all be watching on C-Span as he testified.

Margaret was surprisingly missing, so Sam walked right on into Leo's office. "You wanted to see me?" he asked the back of Leo's leather executive chair.

It spun slowly, a young redhead in her father's place. "Yeah. I did."

"Mallory."

"Hello."

"Hi."

"You want to sit?"

"I'll be sitting most of the day; I'm fine, thanks."

"Suit yourself."

"What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to go to dinner after."

"With you?"

"Yes."

"You're asking me on a date?"

"Well, it's not Chinese Opera."

"Probably no sex, too."

"Sam--"

"What about that hockey player? Is this some kind of pity thing?"

Sam was hurt, she could tell, though she knew it wasn't entirely her fault. She probably did have a little blame, but it hardly warranted the amount of hostility he was sending her. She didn't take it personally. "It's not a pity thing, and I couldn't care less about a hockey player."

"I have straighter teeth."

Mallory puzzled over that. "Yes, you do, but what does that have to do with, well, anything?"

He held up a hand. "Nothing. Never mind."

"No, wait," she said, standing up.

"What?" he asked with a sigh.

"I understand that this is difficult."

"I'm testifying before Congress, Mal."

"I know."

"Difficult is an understatement."

"I understand, too, that no one is going with you."

"Oh, sure people are. My lawyer, various Congressmen and witnesses..."

"I mean family. People who care about you."

"No one in my family thinks a Congressional investigation where I have to testify merits a red-eye flight in from California. Hell, Princeton graduation didn't either. Law school and passing the bar... Well, that means I'm provided with a round-trip ticket home so I can go home and celebrate with them before coming back and looking for a job. Mom's happy I'm breathing but she's upset I got caught up in this `mess.' She thought I was smarter than that. And Dad... Well, Dad doesn't take me to Laker games anymore. Dad's got a whole other son who gets to sit courtside nowadays."

"You've had a bit of a year, haven't you?"

"I think I've had a bit of a decade at the very least."

"So, let me go with you to testify and take you to dinner afterwards."

"So it *is* pity."

"No."

"How does this distinguish itself from pity?"

"Well, it's also somewhat selfish."

"Selfish?"

"Yes."

"In what way?"

"In the way that I miss your company.'

"I won't be good company today."

"All the more reason you shouldn't be alone."

"Mallory--"

"You won't be able to convince me to leave you alone today."

"Why not?"

"'Cause believe it or not, somebody cares about you, Sam Seaborn. Warts and all."

"Yeah, the picture wart, too?"

"I'm human, too. I have feelings, just like you. You blame me for having an honest reaction?"

Sam was silent; he hung his head. "No," he said quietly.

"So... Congress, Chinese food, coffee... And a shoulder rub."

He laughed--an exhausted kind of laugh. "You had such nice alliteration going there."

"Well, if I start dating a writer, maybe he could help me fix that."

"Maybe."

"C'mon, can't have you late for your first day on the Hill."

"Mal?" he asked as they started to leave Leo's office.

"Yeah?"

"Sure you're not just interested in my teeth?"

Mal laughed once. "No. If I was a tooth woman, I'd date a guy from a toothpaste commercial. I am not, however, with a guy who has a smile that sparkles with a little movie magic special effects." After a beat, she added, "I'm with a guy who has a dazzling smile without the cinematic hocus pocus. And one who looks nice all puffed-up. You'll be great today, Sam. I know it."