He was a little sad, though, too, because he considered Josh, C.J., Leo, the President, and Toby, prickly as he is, as family, too. His perfect, ideal holiday get-together would include the Seaborn clan, the White House Senior Staff, and the First Family. And Mallory. 'Someday,' he thought to himself.

Glancing at his watch, he realized it was getting late. His flight would be announced any second. When he looked at the bank of announcement screens, he noticed that his flight had gone from being on time to delayed. Sighing, he shouldered his carry-on and went to investigate. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. The plane scheduled to go to Los Angeles is currently in Augusta."

"Maine?" She nodded. "Why?"

"Waiting on a storm to pass. Last word was that the wait would only be about two hours."

"Two hours?"

"I'm sorry, sir." Sam nodded before returning to where he had been sitting only to see it now occupied by the little girl who had been sitting in her mother's lap beside him. The woman started to scoop her child back into her lap but Sam smiled and shook his head before going off in search of another seat. Every seat was occupied so Sam wandered over to the wall and sat down a few feet from half a dozen wary college students. They had to laugh at the sight of him, all proper in his business suit, sitting on the dusty tile floor. Sam smiled at them, noticing one of the girls was wearing a Princeton sweatshirt, and pulled out a legal pad from his brief case.

"I hate to be rude, mister, but don't you know it's a holiday?" asked the girl in the Princeton sweats.

"Technically the holiday isn't until tomorrow," he said, wishing he had gotten out earlier in the day like the rest of the Senior Staff. Even President Bartlet and his family left after lunch with Charlie and Deana in tow for their New Hampshire residence.

"Man, I saw it on the news," said a boy in the group. "Even the President's gone home."

"I know," Sam said. He still had work that needed to be done unfortunately. Trying to write a position paper while carrying on a conversation was much easier said than done.

"So, what do you do? You in politics?" asked another. Sam nodded, realizing that the group wasn't going to let him be. "Senate? House?" He nodded.

"The white one," Sam said, glancing over to gauge their reactions. They all laughed.

"Yeah, right!" said one. "OEOB staffer maybe!"

"You kids political science majors?"

"Law," corrected Miss Princeton.

"Which law school?"

"Georgetown."

"I went to Duke," he said, returning to his work.

"Did not."

"You want to see my degrees?"

"Where are they?" teased one of them. "On the wall in the Oval Office?"

"Down the hall a ways, but not far from the Oval."

"Yeah, right!" Sam shrugged.

"Believe what you want," he said indifferently. The kids seemed to have lost interest. One walked over to the passenger television set and changed the channel from the Weather Channel to CNN. Capital Beat was just coming on.

"Tonight on Capital Beat: From the left, a political advisor from the White House Sam Seaborn." Sam glanced over at the kids, who were glued to the TV and suddenly dumbstruck that their stranded traveling companion had told them the truth. "And from the right, Chief of Staff from the Senate Majority Leader's office, Henry Green." The kids did several double takes, unable to believe that he was actually Sam Seaborn. Princeton stood quickly and walked up to him.

"Mr. Seaborn, it's an honor to meet you. I'm Ruby Davidson." Sam smiled as he shook her hand.

"Hello, Miss Davidson. Pleased to meet you."

"I hope you'll forgive my friends and me." Sam shrugged.

"'Tis the season."

"How can you be on TV and next to us at the same time?" asked one of the kids.

"It's a rerun, taped about nine weeks ago," explained Sam.

"I saw the one with Ainsley Hayes," Ruby said. Sam tried not to gag. "I felt so bad for you. She was just *so* mean."

"Yes, well. She was just on her game that night. You can't win them all. With you being law students, you should learn that. One of the hardest lessons you'll ever get, I assure you."

"A gracious winner in politics? You're an enigma, man."

"No," said Sam. "A speech writer."

Two hours and three cups of coffee later, the airplane had yet to arrive. Sam had gotten to know the six law students rather well during that time. They tried their best to stump each other, calling out the most obscure court cases they could think of. Sam learned that all six had grown up in the suburbs of L.A., just like him. Two had gone to Princeton, three if you included Sam himself, three had attended Stanford, and one went to Yale before Georgetown for law. Sam was about to talk to the airline representative again when the flight announcement screen changed their flight from delayed to canceled. All seven immediately got to their feet, the six kids complaining and Sam charging to the desk.

"What happened?"

"The plane is stuck in a snowstorm."

"Do you have another flight to L.A.?"

"Not until tomorrow night, eight o'clock."

"By the time that reaches L.A., it's a little late for turkey and dressing, don't you think?"

"I can transfer you to another airline, Mr. Seaborn," she said quietly, hoping to give him the VIP treatment and not cause a stampede for equal service.

"Can you do that for everyone?"

"Some three hundred and ninety passengers? No sir." Sam looked at the faces of the weary travelers. Most were already off in search of another way home. The six college kids stood by the wall where they had all been sitting.

"What about seven?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Seven isn't three hundred and ninety."

"I might not be able to get you all on one flight."

"But can you get us all home for Thanksgiving?" She smiled.

"I can try."

"Thank you," said Sam. He returned to the law school troupe and gathered his stuff. "I'm going to get each of you home," he said. "Don't worry."

After a half-hour of frantic calls to other airlines, five tickets were secured on three flights. Sam had no intention of taking one of those tickets even when the students insisted he take one. In the end, he won out but there was still the cruel task of picking one to remain in D.C. After a few minutes, Ruby said she would stay. They all said their good-byes before the five rushed off to find their gates. Ruby was on the verge of tears.

"It's not over yet, Ruby," he said reassuringly. "I've still got a couple cards up my sleeve." Sam went to every ticket desk personally, begging for a pair of tickets. He finally found one lone ticket on the Concorde, first-class. Ruby was crushed. She couldn't afford it and her coach ticket from Delta definitely wasn't going to count for very much in a trade. Sam traded his first-class ticket, paid the difference, and handed the new ticket to Ruby. "Go home." She looked up at him in shock. "It takes off in ten minutes. You'll have to hustle to get there."

"Mr. Seaborn, I can't take this."

"Miss Davidson, you will. Go home. See your mom. Enjoy the holiday."

"But-"

"Go on." She hugged him quickly. Sam was beginning to see a pattern: him, law students, innocent hugs.

"I'll never forget this," she said before gathering her luggage.

"Happy Thanksgiving."

"You, too, Mr. Seaborn!" she said before dashing off.

Sam tried for another hour to get a ticket on any flight on any airline. By that time, it was past midnight. There weren't going to be anymore flights for several hours and none of them would get him to L.A. until after the Seaborn family feast would be long since devoured.

Sadly, he dug out his cellular phone and called his parents. After all, it was only a little after nine on the West Coast. His mother was heartbroken but he promised he'd be there at Christmas. He hung up and walked out of the airport, into the cold chill of the late November night. He tried to call a cab company but they were all running on skeleton crews and no one was willing to go all the way out to Dulles. As he had told Ruby, he had several cards up his sleeve but now he was down to one. He dialed one last phone number.

"Mm... H'lo?" she asked sleepily. Sam sighed-it was better than crying.

"Mallory?" She rubbed her tired eyes.

"Sam?"

"I... I didn't mean to wake you."

"No. S'okay. What's up?"

"Not me."

"What do you mean?" she asked, sitting up in bed.

"My flight was canceled."

"Oh, Sam. I'm sorry."

"I tried to find another flight."

"Did you?"

"I found four."

"And you went on one of those?" she asked, suddenly very confused.

"No. There were these college kids. I sent them home." That was one of the sweetest things Mallory had ever heard. "But now I'm stuck at Dulles. I had taken a cab here, so I could leave my car in the parking structure at my apartment for safekeeping but now none of the taxi services are willing to come out here."

"I'll be right there."

"You don't... You don't have to."

"You aren't spending the night at the airport, Sam."

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"Sit tight."

Sam was sitting on the sidewalk, surrounded by his suitcases when Mallory's car pulled up. He wordlessly stood as Mallory popped the trunk. He loaded his bags before climbing in the front passenger seat with her. "Thanks," he said quietly, glancing at her. She smiled faintly.

"When was the last time you saw your family?" she asked as she started her car back up.

"You mean besides in pictures?"

"Yeah."

"A while." She could *feel* his depression, that's how deep it was.

"I'm sorry."

"Christmas is only a month away," he said, choking up on he length he would have to wait before he could possibly see his family again. Mallory reached out with one hand and took one of his.

"I know it isn't the same but... You're more than welcome to have Thanksgiving with me and Dad." Sam nodded. "That means you'll join us?" He shrugged so she decided not to push it. Sam watched the dark cityscape roll by out the window. Mallory glanced over at him occasionally as she drove. She wished that she could somehow take away his pain. As she pulled up outside his apartment, Sam climbed out. Mallory got out as well to unlock the trunk.

"Thanks," he muttered, pulling out his suitcases.

"Sam?" It was a moment before his eyes met hers. "Come to lunch with me tomorrow at Dad's."

"I don't want to intrude."

"Oh don't give me that, you."

"Mallory... I'm remembering birthday messages and op-prep papers..."

"Dad would love to see you." Sam glanced away from her. "Don't spend Thanksgiving alone, Sam." He still couldn't quite look at her. "Spend it with me."

"And your father."

"Please, Sam. I want you to spend tomorrow with me. And Dad." She physically turned his face to look at her. "Don't stay here tomorrow," she said, her eyes glistening. Sam put his luggage on the ground and pulled her into a hug. "I know you wanted to see your family," she said, holding him. "What you did for those college students, Sam... They'll remember you forever as the guy who saved Thanksgiving. That was so very sweet, very selfless. I bet you didn't even think twice about it at the time." She felt a teardrop fall on her neck. Her heart broke for him, her own tears threatening to fall. "Come spend tomorrow with me." He nodded. "Is that a yes?"

"Yeah."

"Good," she said. "Come get me tomorrow around nine o'clock?" He nodded. "Casual dress. If you're in anything other than an old pair of blue jeans and a tee shirt, Sam, it will not be pretty."

"Okay."

"*Are* you going to be okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Mal." He slowly started to release her. Mallory noticed again that Sam couldn't look at her.

"Your face is going to freeze," she said softly, drying his cheeks. He sniffled and picked up his luggage. She watched him go, wishing she could do more for him.