The Texas Connection:
Part 11


Kasey


There were nearly twice the usual number of staff members and yet seven times the amount of work.

Having no speculation from Texas as to when the President might be back in the city, let alone able to lead the nation, Hoynes's staff had schlepped over to the West Wing. Meanwhile, CJ, Josh, and Toby were working and "breaking in" the former "OEOBrigade" as Josh had dubbed them.

Actually, the way Josh figured, it was better that they had a ton of work to do. It kept their minds off their friends and bosses in Austin.

The Vice President (as Bartlet's people still referred to Hoynes when not addressing him directly) had commissioned the FBI and Secret Service to "Conduct a full investigation and compile the findings". Josh kept jokingly calling them the Warren Commission, but most everyone took them very seriously - especially CJ's press gaggle, all of whom still wanted interviews with Bartlet and Sam, none of whom would get that interview.

The remaining Bartlet staff was beginning to realize how much better Rosslyn had been than Austin. Not that either one was GOOD, obviously, but still. At least Josh had been nearby enough that they could pop into GW during lunch or something. But with Sam a thousand miles away, the closest they got to him was a speaker phone conversation once a day.

The other advantage Rosslyn had over Austin was that Hoynes hadn't really taken power before. Well, for a little bit he had, but he was so freaked and uncertain that Leo had run the show anyway.

But Leo was in Texas and Hoynes was in power.

And actually acting like it, too. It was strange - Hoynes was a lot more comfortable with suddenly taking over. Almost like his old Senate days of arrogance, Josh thought, trying not to be a smart ass to the new people.

A task at which he was being only marginally better than Toby.

~*~*~*~

He was feeling plenty fine. Bored and stir-crazy, but fine. Almost good, even. And much looking forward to going home.

Friday had finally arrived.

The President was being loaded into the car downstairs to be taken to Air Force One, Abby at his side, Leo following closely behind. Meanwhile, Mallory was helping Sam.

His IV had been removed not quite an hour before, so he was starting to feel some pain, especially in his right leg, but he wasn't about to say anything, especially not to Mal. He had been given a walker, which made him feel twice his age and like an invalid, but it WAS easier than trying to limp along on his own.

But other than that, he felt fine. Or, at least, he did at the outset of his journey to the cars.

He sat up and almost fell off the bed, he was so dizzy from having laid flat on his back almost a week, and he felt fairly nauseous. His leg was throbbing badly, very badly, as he stood up and began his attempt at walking.

It was a lot longer than he had thought it might be, and considering the fact that he had once gone for a jog at least a couple times a week, he was winded before he even got to the end of the hall. Mallory kept urging him to rest as she hovered nearby, but he would shake his head and insist he was fine, then keep going, like the stubborn ass he was.

At Sam's insistence, they stopped not once, but rather continued straight to the cars, and it wasn't until they got there that Mallory realized just how bad he looked. He was pale and a thin sheen of sweat had broken out across his forehead and collected on his upper lip. He was trying unsuccessfully to hide a painful grimace and the fact that he was breathing heavy. "Ow!" he said as Mallory smacked him on the head - which she knew wouldn't damage him more than he already was. "What was that for?"

"You need to learn a lesson."

"Any lesson or…?"

"You're pushing yourself too hard, you won't acknowledge that you need to slow down, and now look at you." He was silent. "Sam…slow down…please…"

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Sam, you're not fine at ALL, and you don't seem to realize that! You don't seem to comprehend that less than a week ago you were SHOT, that there was MASSIVE surgery, and therefore you -…You can't just-…" Her still angry words were becoming more motivated by…she couldn't tell what, exactly. Not quite fear and not quite anger and not quite frustration.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'll remember for next time."

"No you won't."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you never do…you're too damn stubborn…"

"Yes." Weak humour as though it was, both found themselves laughing lightly.

~*~*~*~

"Don't worry about it."

"Sir, my only concern is that if they find me -"

"I said don't worry about it." The dark-haired Texan smiled, though his underling couldn't see that over the telephone. "I've got everything under control on this end. Just don't do anything to expose yourself and you'll be absolutely fine."

Part 12

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