If it were possible, his grin only got wider as his assistant turned around in her seat at her desk to gaze up at him expectantly. "Is it a go?" she asked, her brows furrowing anxiously.
"I got it!" he crowed, delighted with himself. The smile she graced him with lifted his spirits further and for the first time that day, and for days before that, he felt ready to face his ill-humored boss.
His shoulders squared determinedly and his chin lifted in triumph, Sam Seaborn marched into the grizzly cave. He waited until Toby looked up at him before he stated simply and with his voice brimming with excitement, "We got it."
He hadn't expected much from the older man, since Toby Ziegler was a hard man to impress, but the solemn frown and the slow, overly cautious way he set down his pen and folded his hands on his desktop were discouraging. "Sam-" he began in the tone of voice the young speechwriter had come to know as his "rain on Sam's parade" voice.
"No Toby. Not this time," Sam protested firmly. "I've worked my ass off on this. I've been floating this for the past week; hell, I even sent Ainsley to the Majority Leader's office to get a vibe off of them and finally I've had a break-through. Finally with some grace from God, I've managed to convince enough people that this bill is the right thing."
Toby shook his head slowly and dropped his gaze to his hands for a moment before standing. He didn't say a word as he walked past his deputy to close the door and he remained silent until he was back at his desk where he leaned against its edge.
"Sam-" he started again.
"Toby!" Sam returned in exasperation, beginning to lose a little of his excitement as frustration began to take hold. "I'm telling you that we have this in the bag. As soon as the President says the word, I send this bill to the Hill, and I guarantee you that we will face little to no opposition."
Slowly, Toby crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back farther, not liking this part of his job. He didn't want to shut down Sam's excitement and joy, especially when in this job, the young man rarely got to feel either of those emotions. And it was so rare to see Sam so openly fired up, so different that it was from his mild nature. "Sam, the President isn't going to give the word," he said swiftly so that the other man couldn't interrupt him.
"What do you mean he won't give the word?" Sam queried suspiciously, his voice lowering and his levity fading. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach as his finely tuned radar kicked into gear and sensed disappointment on the horizon.
"Leo and the President talked about it, and then Leo talked to me. Last month the President's cousin was hospitalized when a drunk driver crashed into her car. She nearly died. The President is afraid that fighting for this bill right now will look too much like an act of vengeance, and that's not the publicity this administration, or the bill needs right now."
Sam stared at him in astonishment. "He wants us to sit on it?" he demanded, outraged. "He wants us to sit on it after all we've gone through, because he's worried about appearances?" He ran an angry hand through his hair, tousling the already ruffled dark mane. "I thought we weren't going to do this anymore!"
"I know, Sam," Toby muttered, shrugging helplessly. "I tried talking to Leo but he says there's no changing the President's mind. He's dead-set on not going after this right now."
Toby watched as Sam sprang into motion, pacing agitatedly back and forth in front of him. Now that the excitement and adrenaline were gone, he noticed for the first time how haggard and worn his deputy looked. He began to feel like an ogre even more as Sam began to speak.
"Does he understand that we don't have to fight for this?" the young man demanded weakly. "Does he understand that all the fighting's been done, that I'm handing this bill to him already passed in every way but technically?" His steps slowed as he turned tired eyes toward his boss, the twinkle from only moments ago already absent. "This has been my life the past week, Toby. I've worked my ass off on this thing, to push it through. I don't even know when the last time I slept was. It was probably at the beginning of the week! And he's just going to throw that all away now that we've won?"
"I know, Sam," was all Toby could manage. He knew that his deputy had devoted himself to this cause like he had never done before. He knew what Sam had put on the line for it. He felt the younger man's heartbreak almost as if it were his own and he wished that his words had had more of an effect on the President's unlistening ears.
"I can't believe this." Sam shook his head and pursed his lips. For a moment he looked ready to say more, but then his shoulders drooped under the weight of his disappointment and he turned away. His defeat was almost palpable as he exited, shooting Toby one last pitiful look before he passed through the door.
This time when Cathy looked up to him, it wasn't to share in his triumph over a battle won. Sam felt the knot in his stomach give a warning tug since there was no way Cathy could know so soon that the bill would be shelved. Something else had to be the matter.
"What is it?" he asked tiredly.
His assistant shot him a curious, but sympathetic look and motioned to his closed office door with a toss of her head. "Mallory's in there and she's not happy."
Sam blinked at her and slowly let a frown creep across his face. His relationship had been going so smoothly with the school teacher the past couple of months, that he couldn't possibly imagine what could have happened to make her upset enough to schedule to meet him at work. "She's not happy?" he repeated forlornly.
Cathy nodded an affirmative and he groaned. "Hold all my calls," he instructed her and entered his office feeling like a man headed towards the headman's block.
The redhead seated in front of his desk turned blazing eyes on him immediately upon his entering. "I can't believe you!" she hissed as soon as he'd shut the door.
"Hi Mallory," he responded mildly with no enthusiasm. Today was not the day for this, not after the horrible letdown he'd just been dealt. Dropping bonelessly into his chair he looked over at her and winced at the storm cloud that had taken residence on her face. "What can I do for you?"
She was clenching and unclenching her jaw as she fought against the hot temper she'd inherited from her father. "I thought you said it was over?" she demanded. "I thought you said you wouldn't be seeing her anymore? But you couldn't leave well enough alone, could you Sam?"
Sam stared at her stupidly, confused as hell. "What?" he asked, shaking his head slowly as he fought against the exhaustion that was slowly taking hold of his mind.
"That little tramp you were caught with earlier this year, Sam, or are there other women you've been seeing that I wouldn't be happy about?" she seethed at him.
"Laurie?" he returned as it finally clicked into place in his head. "You're angry because I talked to Laurie yesterday? Mal-"
He hadn't thought it possible, but her glare hardened and her eyes began sparking like live wires. "Did you happen to forget what happened last time you met with her, Sam?" she snarled. "You almost your job and the fiasco nearly drove us apart! You were willing to risk that again? How could you?"
Sam shook his head, fighting desperately now to stay on top of the situation. But he knew he was losing his control and he miserably conceded that this was not going to end well. "Mallory-" he began and trailed off as her eyes bore holes into his. "She just stopped by," he started again. "She's moving to New York because she got hired at my old firm, and she wanted to tell me about it and say goodbye before she left. That's all Mallory. There's really nothing for you to be - "
"Don't even say it!" Mallory shouted. Sam winced and glanced out his window to be met with surprised and worried stares from the aides and assistants outside. "I'm tired of this, Sam. I'm tired of you doing things like this and not even realizing why you've done something wrong. I swear, for someone so smart, you really are dense." She pulled in a deep breath and shook her head.
"And I can't deal with it. You're worse at thinking your actions through than my students and I really don't have the time for it. Sam watched wide-eyed as she stood and grabbed her coat off the back of the chair. "Mallory… what are you saying?"
She opened the office door and looked back at him. Whatever she was about to say in reply was cut off as Ainsley approached them. "Excuse me Sam, do you have a minute?" she asked politely.
Mallory glared daggers at the blond and then turned back to Sam. "This month's scandal?" she accused nastily. Without waiting for an answer, she brushed past Ainsley and stormed out of the bullpen.
Ainsley turned wide eyes on Sam and bit her lip nervously. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?"
Wearily, Sam sank further back into his chair and shook his head. "No, you didn't, but apparently I did." He blew out a sigh and winced again as he relived the fight in his head. "Now if only I could figure out what it was," he muttered to himself.
With a small smile, Ainsley took a few steps into the office. "This may be a bad time, but I just heard that the President just shelved the bill you sent me to the Hill on?"
Sam nodded and rolled his eyes. "Circumstances came up that apparently would shed the wrong light on his fight for passing the bill and he decided now is not the right time for it." Saying the words just drove it home for him.
"I'm sorry Sam, I know how hard you worked on it." She paused and cocked her head to the side, studying him. "You look horrible," she observed. "Let me take you out for a drink?"
Smiling at the offer, Sam had to shake his head. "That sounds nice Ainsley, but I think what I need right now is to go home and curl up on the couch and sleep for about a week."
Ainsley chuckled and left, giving Sam some much-needed silence.
"And to think that I thought this was a *good* day only minutes ago," he grumbled before picking up the phone to start making the necessary calls on the bill's shelved status.
It was after the second hour of tossing and turning in his bed that Sam came to the realization that he wouldn't be getting any sleep that night, no matter how much he craved it. Dragging himself from the bed he stumbled into the living room and sank into his beloved couch to watch some TV.
It took him only slightly less time to become thoroughly dissatisfied with the programming of late-night television. Frowning to himself, he tossed the remote on the coffee table and sat up. He ran several ideas through his head on what he could do to pass the night away, and he decided that a nice run might be the safest risk-free choice he had come up with.
After pulling on his track pants, a tee shirt and a hooded sweatshirt, he toed into his running shoes and headed out the door.
The night air in his hair and on his face relaxed him as he jogged down the sidewalk of his street, enjoying the stress-less bliss that was the night. There were no ornery bosses kicking in his door to criticize his work, there were no assistants stealing his food, no congressional aides treating him like an idiot, and no girlfriends blowing up at him about imaginary crimes. There was just him, the street, and the night, and they formed a perfect connection that worked together uninterrupted by the rest of the world.
Sighing to himself, feeling the cold breeze enter his lungs and chill his core, he increased his pace gradually until he was running at a nice sprint that drove all the stress and ugliness of the day away. And so perfect was the connection that everything faded away, leaving only the sound of his breathing and the pounding of his feet in his ears, leaving only the feel of the cold air on his skin.
He held the pace as long as he could, until his muscles were burning and he no longer recognized his surroundings, he had run so far, so mindlessly. And even as he slowed back to a steady jog, he remained detached from his environment.
No longer did he notice the barking of the dog in the house he had just breezed by. No longer did he notice the occasional drop of rain that had begun to fall. Everything remained a numb blur and he found himself wishing he could keep hold of that feeling even after he went home. It would be so much easier not to have to feel anymore.
He began heading back home as the random drops of rain increased until they became a heavy downpour. The cold water crashing down upon his unprotected head, running down his back and his face, and stinging his eyes, numbed his body as the run had numbed his soul.
And then suddenly the peace of his night was broken as something large and moving terrifyingly fast materialized out of the falling raindrops and barreled towards him. He had no time to react before bright light was suddenly blinding him and the screeching of tires was deafening him to all other sounds.
The pain that came next exploded through his body with such intensity that the blackness of oblivion took hold of his mind before his head even came crashing down to the wet pavement.