Sam Seaborn looked at his best friend and partner in crime. "Well?" he asked expectantly.

Josh surveyed the object in front of them. "Yeah, we're good," he replied.

"Good," Sam grinned.

"But I still say we should make a horse," Josh started out, but was interrupted by Sam's groan.

"Josh. No horse. It is three AM. We have staff in five hours. We have to get there to put this in the room before anyone sees us. I am *not* taking the time to sculpt a horse out of *cheese*." Sam fixed his friend with a hard stare.

"Fine," Josh relented. "But no one's gonna know who it is."

"Who do we talk about every month on Big Block of Cheese Day?"

"Andrew Jackson."

"Who had a two ton block of cheese in the foyer of the White House?"

"Andrew Jackson."

"Whose administration does Leo McGarry want model Big Block of Cheese Day after?"

"Andrew Jackson's."

"When you see a hunk of cheese, what's the first thing that comes to mind?"

"I'm lactose intolerant."

"You're a pain the a—"

"Fine, fine! No horse!" Josh threw up his hands in defeat. "So, you're gonna bring this in tomorrow morning?"

"Me? Me? How did this go from us to me?"

"That was my amazingly strategic political mind working overtime to get me what I wanted...namely, another hour's sleep. Thanks, man, you're the best. Can't wait to see the look on Leo's face...they're all gonna roll laughing." With that, Josh grabbed his jacket and was out the door. Sam let out a sigh and looked back to the cheese sculpture of Andrew Jackson. Josh was right; if everyone in the room hadn't known all about Big Block of Cheese Day and Leo's obsession with Andrew Jackson, there was no way this statue would be recognizable. Of course, neither of then were hired to be sculptors. Picking up the...well, it was a stretch to call it anything more than a stick figure with a sword, he grabbed his own coat and left the office to get a few hours shut eye.

~*~*~*~

The next morning C.J. walked into the Roosevelt Room, looked up from the conversation she was having with Toby, and started laughing. Toby, who was behind her when she suddenly stopped, grumbled at her, "C.J. you need to lay off the coffee."

Unable to speak, C.J. merely stepped aside and pointed at the cheese...thing on the middle on the conference table. At the base, there was a little placard that read, "Andrew Jackson, in cheese, Josh Lyman." Even Toby afforded himself a chuckle when he saw it.

"I just can't believe he was stupid enough to sign it, though," he muttered to C.J.

"This is *Josh* we're talking about," she reminded him. Toby merely nodded his consent. Evidently the Deputy Chief of Staff *was* that stupid. Shaking his head, he took his place across the table from C.J.

Soon after other members of the Senior Staff and a few assistants piled in. When Sam walked in, he glanced around, looking for both Josh and to see if anyone else suspected anything other than Josh being Josh. To his relief, the answers to both questions seemed to be negative.

Leo stopped in Josh's office. "Hey," he said.

Josh looked up and grinned at his boss. "Good morning Leo!"

"Aren't we chipper this morning," Leo replied, not caring all that much. "You coming to staff?"

"Of course I am!" He picked up a few folders and followed Leo out of the office and over to the Roosevelt Room. He had wanted to be one of the first in to see the reaction, but he was going to have live with watching them all through staff, while each of them tried to figure out who the mystery sculptor could have been. This was definitely one of his better ideas, he thought. Not watching where he was walking, he walked straight into Leo, who had come to a short stop at the entrance of the room.

Leo slowly took one step forward and turned to glare at Josh. "What the hell is this?"

"I'm sorry, Leo. I wasn't watching where I was going..." he replied, confused as to why Leo was so upset over it.

"I work very hard on that speech, fine-tuning it each month to best inspire you people to do what we were sent here to do! You people don't realize what a difference that one day a month makes in the polls...we get the support of the crazy amateurs and the lunatic mapmakers all in one day, just by *acting* interested! I don't give a damn about shark cartilage either, but that person who made it to the West Wing of the White House for a meeting will definitely vote for us in November because we took the time to care for him. You are reassuring yourself of a job for four more years...that is, if you even make it to re-election!"

During this scolding, Josh dared to look at the table. To his horror, he saw his own handwriting and signature proclaiming the cheese statue to be his. With a fierce glare, he turned to glower at his now former best friend. Sam, on the other hand, was doing a fine job of examining his pen and trying to ignore the eyeballs boring a hole in the back of his neck.

"It.—it was just a joke Leo...we did it to be funny. We didn't mean any disrespect," Josh said, trying to emphasize the `we'.

"We? Who the hell else?"

"Sam!" Josh exclaimed, finally able to get a little revenge. He noted with satisfaction Sam's head snap up, but was surprised to see a look of innocence and shock on the face of the co- conspirator.

Leo snorted. "I don't know why he's friends with you, Josh. If I were him I would have sent you shipping to the South Pacific long ago. I must admit though, I am a little surprised at your audacity in signing your own name." Leo glared around the room, and noticed the other staffers trying not to laugh. "You're all on my list now." Leo smiled in satisfaction at the sudden groaning heard throughout the room. "Just remember to thank Josh for this."

~*~*~*~*~

About a week later, Margaret walked in and dropped a memo on Sam's desk.

"What's this?" he asked the tall redhead.

"Leo's calling it, `Another Slice of Cheese'. He's having a meeting in a half an hour to explain the assignments."

Sam tried not to groan. "He's making us do Big Block of Cheese Day twice a month from now on?"

Margaret shook her head. "Oh no. This is much different." She grinned, and Sam could almost swear it was an evil grin. He just put his head down on the desk and decided to hope the meeting never came.

~*~*~*~*~

Back at her desk, Margaret was sorting through the assignments. Next to the file folders, she had a hat, and the names of each senior staffer would was going to be assigned a `Slice of Cheese' assignment. Picking a name out of a hat, she wrote that staffer's name on the top of the folder. "Hm," she said with a grin. So Toby would be going out and helping at a local fair for underprivileged kids. "I want pictures if he's assigned to be the clown," she muttered to herself. Just then Leo's door opened. She quickly put the hat under the table.

"Did you assign Josh to anything yet?" he asked. Margaret just shook her head. "Good," he continued. "Then this is for him." He handed her a folder and went back inside.

Looking inside at the assignment, Margaret had to put her hand over her mouth to keep her from laughing out loud. Josh was assigned to help pick up all the garbage and clean graffiti in the U Street Corridor. "Maybe I can get him to get me a bowl of Ben's Chili," she wondered aloud as she wrote Josh's name on the folder.

The phone rang, and Margaret answered it absently, suddenly hungry for Ben's world famous Chili. "Leo McGarry's office."

"Hey Margaret," a familiar voice responded.

"Hi Mal, how are you?" she asked warmly.

"I'm good thanks. How are you?"

"Doing well. You want to talk to your father?"

"Actually...I wanted to talk to you. Dad told me about the newest addition to the Cheese Day thing. Are you the one doling out the assignments?"

"Yeah," she grinned. "Your father definitely could be brought up for cruel and unusual punishment."

"Especially for one particular speechwriter..." Mal drifted off.

"Why? Does he have a special assignment for Sam?" Margaret started looking, fairly sure she had only gotten a special folder for Josh.

"No. I do."

Margaret chuckled. "Well, tempting as that sounds, I don't really want to get in the middle of you and Sam..."

"Oh, you would just be matching the appropriate staffer with the appropriate assignment," Mallory said, quoting her father. "There should be a file there with the assignment to go to Clearlake. Can you make sure that Sam gets that?"

"Did you ask for that assignment to be put in?"

"Actually, I had nothing to do with it. I wasn't even going to be here on Saturday. But Jeannie, another teacher was, and she was the one who had put the request in and told me about it. Now it turns out she's going away for the weekend, and she asked me to cover this for her. I told her I would...and I want to make sure I get the most cooperative member of Senior Staff."

"And that wouldn't be C.J.?"

"I don't have the power over C.J. that I have over Sam."

"Oohh," Margaret said with a grin. "Well, I never was one to get in the way of a blossoming romance..."

"So you'll do it?" Mallory asked, excited.

"Sure."

"Thank you so much Margaret! And oh, uhm, one more thing... would it be possible not to mention this to my father?"

Margaret laughed. "You got it Mal. You'll see Sam at Clearlake on Saturday."

~*~*~*~*~

Underneath Leo's speech about the reason this administration was put in office, which was namely to serve those who most needed the government's help, there was a steady chorus of groans. On one side of the table Josh alternated between groaning the loudest and shooting death looks at Sam. Sam, on the other hand was so completely shocked by his assignment that he was unable to do anything other than stare at what was written in the file in front of him:

Assignment: Assist teachers in cleaning out the classrooms for the end of the year and helping to move the equipment needed for next year.
Location: Clearlake Elementary School
Report to: Mallory O'Brien, Rm. 204

He wanted to just cry. How did Leo know that he had been in on it? How was he being punished so cruelly? He didn't get a lecture...he just had to spend a day with the woman who most detested him in this world. Well, ok, he knew that wasn't true. But he also knew how pissed Mallory was...pissed enough to date a hockey player. If they were moving around equipment, chances are she would bring him along to help with the heavy stuff. "Well, this is bad on so many levels," he murmured softly to himself.

"I'm sorry Sam, what did you say?" Leo asked sharply.

Sam just looked up at his boss silently, asking him `why' with his eyes. He couldn't even speak. He felt like he had just been thrown to the wolves.

Leo just stared back, wondering what was so horrible with Sam's assignment that he had turned so pale, or looked so upset. He made a mental note to ask Margaret what Sam was going to be doing this weekend on his assignment.

~*~*~*~*~

Sam went through the rest of the week completely unlike his normal self. He was quiet and withdrawn. Toby started to ask him about it once, but realized he really didn't want to hear a big sob story about Sam's teddy bear, or whatever it was that had gotten him so upset. C.J. asked once, and after she had been given a sullen, "Nothing," decided there was nothing more she could do. Josh was still completely pissed at Sam for framing him.

Leo noticed all this. He kept meaning to ask Sam what was wrong, but at the end of every meeting, something else would come up that required his complete attention.

And so the week passed, Sam completely dreading his assignment for Saturday. He thought more than once about quitting. After all, it was obvious that his boss hated him. And so did Josh, but that was just Josh's tough luck. That will serve Josh right for blaming him for the fire. Glancing up at the clock, Sam saw that it was 9pm on Friday. It was time to go home. He slowly got up and dragged himself out of the office, suddenly wondering if in Josh's string theory, if you could pull out one piece of string and stop that event from occurring.

~*~*~*~*~

Mallory was lying in bed, completely restless. Although she hated to admit it to herself, she was very excited about the following morning. The last time she had seen Sam, at the Kennedy Center, all the feelings she thought had managed to suppress came pouring over her again. She had it bad for Sam Seaborn. And as much as she liked to think he would be an awful guy to date, she had to admit that those gentle loving eyes told her differently each time.

She loved the way he would argue with her. She loved his absolute passion for what he did, his sense of perfectionism with something as insignificant as a birthday card—message, she corrected herself in her head. "No matter what I do, I just can't stop thinking about him," she told her stuffed animal, Leonard the Liberal Lion.

With a sigh, and realizing that sleep was not coming anytime soon, she rolled over and snapped on the radio. Rotating through all of her favorite stations, she found that they were all playing sappy love songs. She sighed again and snapped the radio off. "I would count sheep, but I'm half afraid they'd turn into Sam's jumping a fence." The thought made her chuckle, and she relaxed a bit, enough to fall into a light, yet dream-filled sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

"Steve! Could you *please* just move the scales where I asked?" Mallory shouted Saturday morning to the teacher who was moving the scales everywhere *but* where she asked. "I'm never letting Jeannie con me into this again," she muttered.

"Con you into what?" Mal spun around at the familiar voice, and worked very hard not to grin.

"Nice of you to show up," she commented.

"I'm sorry. I was.. uh...polishing a speech," Sam stammered. Actually, what he was doing was driving to the White House, ready to tell them he quit. He couldn't stand the idea of working with people who hated him so much that they found this situation amusing. But he just couldn't go through with it. He figured he would just suffer through this one day and be done with it. After that, he never had to see her again.

"Y'know, you're a crappy liar, Sam." She gazed at him intently. He not only lied like crap, but he looked it, as well. But there was something else, something more to it than that. He looked...well, he looked like this was the last place on earth he wanted to be. He looked pretty miserable. She pulled him off to the side. "Y'know, we're doing pretty well here right now. You really don't need to stay. Why don't you go home, take a Saturday off for a change? When my father asks I'll tell him you were here the whole day." When she saw the look on his face, she lightly placed her hand on his arm. "Really. It's ok. Go home."

For an entire week Sam had been stressing out about this day, and how much his coworkers must hate him in order to give him this assignment. Now, Mallory, who, if you asked *anyone* would tell you how much she hated Sam, was trying to let him off the hook? He didn't buy it. Not for a second. And what's more, he had had it with people screwing with his head.

"Y'know what? Don't do me any *favors*," he told her harshly. "I'm so sick of being the butt of everyone's jokes. So sue me. I screwed up. Doesn't everyone? I should have called, Mal, I see that now. But I didn't. And I'm sorry. And one day you are going to have to forgive me for that, because, quite honestly, it's *sick* they way you people use that just screw with me. And yeah. I'll leave. But it's only to drive straight to the White House and type up my resignation." With that, he turned on his heel, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

Mallory stood there, dumbfounded. She had no idea what just happened. She was trying to be nice. She thought that he must have given up on her. And, she had realized sadly, she deserved it. But... she never meant for this to happen...Sam was halfway across the room before she realized he was really leaving, and she had better do something. "Sam, wait!" She yelled, rushing after him.

"Sorry, Mallory. Too little, too late." He wanted to slow down, but he didn't. He just couldn't subject himself to the pain of rejection, again.

Mal caught up with him just as he reached the door. She grabbed onto his arm, and with all the strength she had, she spun him around to face her. "No. I listened to you, now you listen to me. I was trying to be nice. I had no intention of screwing you over. You looked like this was the last place you wanted to be. I asked Margaret to give you this assignment because I wanted to have an excuse to see you. If you are over me, then that's fine, I'll have to learn to deal. But I can't stand the thought of you walking out that door thinking I was trying to screw you. That was honestly the last thing on my mind." She sighed sadly. "Really. Go if you want... but don't quit. Please. They need you. I will cover for you."

Sam merely stared at her, completely uncertain as to what to say. He tried to process everything she had just told him.

"You—you asked Margaret to give me this assignment?" He asked, trying not to sound hopeful at the prospect.

She nodded. "Yeah. And..." She shrugged. "Never mind."

"No, wait. What?"

"And even though it didn't say it on the assignment sheet, I was kinda hoping we could go to dinner afterwards."

"All the teachers?"

"No." She rolled her eyes. He could be really dense when he wanted to be.

"You mean...you and me?"

"Yeah. You and *I*, oh speechwriter."

He grinned in spite of himself. "Yeah. You and I."

"Was that a yeah to the grammar, or a yeah to the dinner?"

His smile broadened. "Both."

Mallory let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "Well, good then."

"But..."

"But?" She raised her eyebrows. There were conditions to her taking him out to dinner?

"But I need to know that I'm not going to be sitting in my office heartbroken again."

"Well, if you just lay off the call girls, we shouldn't have a problem."

"I'm serious, Mallory. I'm not saying this relationship has to work out, or that it has to be a forever, all-or-nothing kind of deal. I'm saying...I'm saying...just don't shut me out again. When I make a mistake, let me know. I don't want to ruin this before it gets started, but I'm not about to be played."

Mallory looked up to see soft blue eyes that were trying to forget the pain she had caused. "I promise," she told him quietly. "And I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything. For every time I've hurt you. I just...I guess I was trying to protect my own heart, I guess." She tried not to roll her eyes at the sappy sentimentality of it all. It wasn't that she was being sarcastic; she meant what she was saying. But at the same time she didn't feel all that comfortable expressing her emotions.

Sam smiled at her. "And I'm sorry too."

"What are you sorry for?"

"Well...namely...the picture and the not calling thing...but still y'know...I was really the one that was in trouble..." Sam stopped when Mallory playfully swatted at his arm.

"Let's not open that can of worms again, ok?"

"You got it." With the grin that could make Mallory's heart melt, he turned at started walking out.

"Where do you think you're going, Skipper?"

"Home. You said I should take a Saturday off."

"Get back in here," she ordered, but with a smile.

He turned to give her an angelic look. "I don't get my vacation now?"

"Do you still want dinner?"

He nodded emphatically. "I'll be back to pick you up at six."

"No work, no food."

"But Mal..." he started whining.

"I think there's a lab full of test tubes for you to clean."

"Oh yeah?" Mal nodded. "Well, what are *you* gonna be doing?"

Mallory looked around the room. "Supervising."

"Oh no. I'm not slaving over some test tubes while you are sipping coffee making sure everyone does their work."

Mallory walked towards him. Stopping just short of him, she looped her fingers in the loops for his buckle on his jeans. "You go start like a good boy," she said, her face slowly nearing his. Sam watched her expectantly. "And I'll be in just as soon as I get all the rest of the teachers settled." With a kiss on the cheek she pulled back from him. "Go. Room 204."

"You're a tease, you know that?" He called to her already retreating figure. She just looked at him and blew him a kiss over her shoulder, never breaking her stride.

Sam grinned and turned to go upstairs. He found Room 204 and started scrubbing quickly. After all, if he had the test tubes finished before she got there, they would just have to think of other things to do. Maybe today wasn't going to be all that bad, after all.