Shaggin' on the Boulevard
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Part 1
C.J. Cregg allowed her posture to slump, stretching her neck
and arms as she stood in the corridor.
"Ready?" asked her assistant, Carol.
"Yeah," she said with a sigh as Carol opened the door to the
White House Press Room. She walked up behind the podium and smiled
at the White House Press Corps. "Good morning. There has been a
slight change in the itinerary."
"How slight?" asked Danny Concannon from the middle of the
room.
"Totally," she said.
"What do you mean totally?" asked another reporter.
"Well, we are no longer going to Florida at all."
"The entire trip was to Florida, C.J.," said a third reporter.
"Well, that's true, Steve, so I suppose I should have said
there is a complete change in itinerary."
"Where are we going?" asked Danny.
"We're still flying south, just not to the Sunshine State."
"Are you intentionally trying to not tell us where we're
going tonight?"
"Of course not, Bruce. We are flying into Myrtle Beach,
South Carolina."
"Why Myrtle Beach? Why are we going there and not Florida?"
"Time constraints. Plus, there is a civil rights rally at
the Marriot on Friday. The Save the Sea Oats Council meeting on
Saturday morning, followed by the dedication of the President Bartlet
wax figure at the Wax Museum..."
"Wait, C.J. Time constraints? We're still staying four
days, are we not?" asked Danny.
"We are. Just the fact that the flight is about half as long
if we fly into Myrtle Beach as opposed to Miami, Florida."
"C.J.—"
"And the President has a very important meeting to attend to
this coming Monday, our last day in South Carolina, and we can leave
at a relatively decent hour so he can be back here and in attendance."
"When will we be leaving Monday?"
"Five AM."
All the reporters started groaning.
"Hey, hey. It could be worse. We could have left at two AM
on Monday morning to get back here in time for the meeting. Go pack
your bags, remember your sunscreen, and we'll see all of you back
here in two hours."
~~~
"Do you know all the fun we're going to have down there?"
asked President Jed Bartlet as he slipped file folders into his
briefcase.
"Well, I would imagine some hours in the sun," said Josh
Lyman.
"There is the Ripley's Aquarium with a moving sidewalk
*through* a large tank. Sharks actually swim over your head,"
Bartlet said.
"Really?" asked Sam Seaborn.
"Yes," said Bartlet with a grin. "And there's the wax museum
dedication which is going to be an absolute hoot."
"In the political leaders section between Hitler, Lenin,
Stalin, and Castro..." Leo McGarry said.
"There's a group you would want to be associated with," added
Toby Ziegler.
"You guys aren't going to spoil the fun," Bartlet said,
wagging a finger at his Chief of Staff and Communications Director.
"We would never dream of it, Mr. President," Leo said.
"Josh, you're a fan of golf?" asked Bartlet as Charlie and
C.J. entered "Ah, Charlie, C.J." The two new arrivals offered their
greetings.
"Well, sir, I'm not necessarily a fan of golf as much as I
enjoy playing it," said Josh.
"There's an excellent par three right on the Boulevard."
"What boulevard?" asked Toby.
"I'll pretend you didn't ask that," Bartlet said.
"Mr. President, seriously... What boulevard?" reiterated
Toby.
"Ocean Boulevard. The road that runs along the coast all the
way up and down… As I understand, there's even a song about the
Boulevard." He turned to C.J. "Anyway. How'd the press take the
news?"
"They weren't thrilled with the departure time on Monday, but
they'll get over it. They're waiting in the busses, ready to be
transferred over to Air Force One."
"Good," Bartlet said with a nod. "And every one of you are
packed, right?" he asked, glancing around at his senior staff and his
bodyman.
"Packed and ready," answered Sam with a nod.
"And your daughter?" Bartlet asked, turning to Leo.
"She's ready."
"M-Mallory's going?" asked Sam nervously.
"Didn't you know?" asked Bartlet.
"No," Sam said slowly.
"Zoey's going too," Bartlet said. "She's ready?"
"And waiting in the Roosevelt Room with Mallory," Charlie
confirmed.
"M-Mallory's here?" asked Sam.
"You've developed quite a stutter, there, Sam," commented
Toby.
"Mr. President," Charlie said, tapping his watch.
"Let's fly," Bartlet said with a bright smile.
~~~
Josh watched Sam pace in the conference room aboard Air Force
One at cruising altitude. "Tell me again why we're in here."
"We're hiding from Mallory," Sam whispered.
"Why?"
"Because."
"Because...?" Josh asked, motioning for Sam to continue.
"Because she's still seeing that hockey player."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Fairly certain."
The door to the room opened silently and a redhead appeared.
Josh started to say something but Mallory O'Brien shushed him. Josh
licked his lips nervously and returned his attention to his best
friend.
"I mean, I think so... She told me not to worry about the
whole picture thing that night... But..." He sighed. "I haven't
stopped worrying about it. I haven't stopped thinking about her."
Josh slowly started sinking in his chair, watching Sam rant,
completely oblivious to Leo's daughter standing at the door.
"The way she looks at me, Josh... The way she smiles and her
whole face lights up. The way she gets so... mischievous when she
argues with me about politics. You should see this little glint she
gets in her eyes that just... It never ceases to mesmerize me, that's
for certain. I mean, I'm sure she'd tell you about talking to me
about school vouchers for an hour one day. I just couldn't stop
arguing with her, though. I mean, I was, I don't know, addicted is
the best way to describe it I suppose, to the look in her eyes. But,
let me tell you, she pulls no punches—politically or otherwise. We
get to talking or arguing and we have this tendency to not stop. We
just go on and on and on and on... She doesn't want to stop either.
I think she really does enjoy arguing, taking me down a peg or two.
But, you know how, when you're a kid, and there's a little girl who
never ceases to bug you unmercifully for your milk money and your
parents tell you, `Oh, it's just because she likes you'?" Josh
nodded, glancing at Mallory, who was leaning against the wall, taking
in Sam's speech. "That's kind of like how Mallory is. At least, I
think that's kind of like how she is. I could be really quite wrong."
"You're telling me you think Mallory has the maturity level
of a child?"
"Are you kidding? Some days I think she's light-years beyond
me. Sometimes not, but most of the time... She's so smart, Josh. So
witty, intelligent, caring, remarkable... She's got an amazingly
playful personality that can, occasionally, get rather pointed. For
the most part, she's perfect. She's everything in a woman I could
ever want, ever love, ever need." Josh's eyebrows shot up his
forehead. "What?"
"You know how you like to talk about women and their
highheels and their stealth capabilities?" asked Josh.
"I don't know that I `like' talking about it as much as it's
a fact of life."
"Yeah, well. I don't know if you're going to want to turn
around or not."
"What are you talking about?" asked Sam, tilting his head to
one side in confusion.
"He's talking about me," Mallory said.
Sam jumped and placed a hand over his heart, turning to see
her. "M-Mallory."
"You know, Toby mentioned something about a stuttering
problem you're developing. I didn't know it was true."
"H-how long have you been there?"
"Long enough," she said softly.
"Y'know, I think I'm going to go see if C.J. and Donna are
exchanging sunscreens yet," Josh said as he slipped from the room.
Sam and Mallory were oblivious to his exit.
"M-Mallory, I'm speechless."
"Didn't sound like it," she said, crossing to him. "Did you
mean what you said?"
"I always mean what I say," he said quietly.
"You're a politician."
"Doesn't mean I can't tell the truth."
"I broke up with Richard."
"I'm sorry?"
Mallory grabbed Sam's tie and pulled him down to her,
whispering in his ear. "I broke up with Richard." She released him,
straightening his necktie before heading for the door. As she
reached it, she glanced back and winked at him. "I have a feeling
you're going to learn just how stealthy my flip-flops are." She left
the room with Sam bracing his hands on the conference table and his
mouth left slightly agape.
~~~
The Communications Director grabbed Josh's arm and got to his
feet as he passed him in the cabin. "So, tell me. Where are we
going?" Toby asked, glancing back at Donna and C.J. The two ladies
were going over the differences in ingredients in their sunblocks.
"Myrtle Beach," Josh said.
"No, I mean..." He glanced at the two women seated not far
from them. "Tell me where we're going to get away from the cancer
prevention queens."
"Well, we could go—"
"Ah, my staff, mostly congregated in one room," said Bartlet
as he entered from the other direction. C.J. and Donna scrambled to
their feet. "Sit, sit. Can anyone tell me the nickname of the area
where we're going?"
Josh lowered himself into a chair with a sigh as Toby covered
his eyes with a hand. C.J. and Donna exchanged glances as they sat
down.
"Oh, come on, now. I saw it on Jeopardy last night," said
Bartlet.
"You watched Jeopardy last night, Mr. President?" asked Josh.
"Did you?" countered the President.
"No, I was meeting with Gadsden about the military
expenditure thing."
"Did any of you?"
"Mr. President, I think it's safe to say that we all missed
it, being busy helping to, you know, run the country," said Toby.
"Split infinitive," said Sam as he entered the room. "Hello,
Mr. President." Bartlet smiled.
"You survive, buddy?" asked Josh quietly, grinning at him.
"Honestly, I'm not sure," said Sam.
"What happened?" asked Donna.
"Mallory—" started Josh.
"Nothing," said Sam quickly.
"Mallory is nothing?" asked C.J.
"Mallory is everything," Sam said. "I just would rather not
discuss what I survived at the moment. What were you guys talking
about?"
"Jeopardy," said Donna.
"Not necessarily. Here, let me ask you, Sam. Do you know
what the nickname is for the area we're going to visit?"
"The Grand Strand," said Sam.
"One hundred dollars to Mr. Seaborn."
"Actually, sir, it was a two hundred dollar question."
"It was really on Jeopardy last night?" asked C.J.
"Yeah," said Sam.
"You doubted me, C.J.?"
"When do you guys find the time to watch Jeopardy?" asked
Donna.
"I took my dinner break then," said Sam.
"Smart boy," said Bartlet. "Me, too. Can anyone tell me the
dance of South Carolina?"
"The dance, sir?" asked Donna.
"The shag," said Sam, picking up a magazine and flipping
through it.
"No, it's not—well, a horizontal dance, perhaps," Josh
corrected quietly. "Just don't say *that* around Mallory."
Everyone in the room watched Sam's face turn bright red,
practically a purple color. He cleared his throat and was about to
speak up when the President stepped in on the poor man's behalf.
"It's an actual dance, Joshua. And I'm quite surprised you
brought up that colloquial definition of the word in mixed company.
It originated some decades ago. There used to be competitions down
there, the best shaggers on the Grand Strand."
Josh tried to keep a straight face. He tried *really* hard.
He tried thinking of war. He tried thinking of death. He tried
thinking of sad pieces of music, of Bambi when his mother gets shot.
He tried thinking of losing re-election and moving out of the White
House and having a Republican move into his office. Nothing worked.
He grinned and chuckled lightly.
"You think something's funny, Josh?" asked Bartlet.
"Oh, no sir."
"Can you tell me about sea oats?"
Josh's grin faded instantly while one simultaneously grew on
Sam's face.
part 2
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