Anyway, two West Wing staffers were striding down the corridor, ready to give the President a briefing on everything they'd done since the previous night, which was nothing much. It had been a slow week.

"I hate slow weeks," complained Josh, trying to balance a full cup of coffee on top of three files in one hand without spilling any, so that his other hand would be free to help him eat his morning doughnut.

"I hate it when Cathy eats my doughnut," Sam sighed. Indeed, there was a conspicuous absence of doughnut in either of his hands.

"Yeah, but that was kind of foreseeable. I mean, you left it alone for ten minutes. But, seriously," Josh continued, "we've done nothing since last Wednesday! Well, there was the thing with the iguana in the briefing room..."

Sam grinned. "That was funny." He was able to say that, since he hadn't been in the briefing room at the time.

"...but that lasted all of two minutes! Although, I bet it increased our approval rating. People love to see us suffer." Josh scowled at the thought of people all over America laughing at him.

"I doubt it. Oh, Leo told me to tell you to bring the CG18 file along."

"We wrapped that up a week ago!"

"Yeah, but the President wants to read it."

"I have to stop by my office, then."

"No problem."

Josh was so busy doing his balancing act with the coffee that he failed to notice that Sam was smiling with what seemed to be anticipation.

"Donna! Get me the CG18 file!"

"I'm busy, Josh, get it yourself!" snapped Donna, not looking away from her computer.

"Ugh – what do I pay you for, anyway?" Josh asked irritably, putting files, coffee and half-eaten doughnut on Donna's desk.

"Letting you put your sticky food on my desk? Anyway, *you* don't pay me."

Josh mumbled something unintelligible, shoved open his office door, and stomped inside. There was a clang, a "sploosh!", a curse, a pause, and then: "Donna!"

Josh stomped out again, dripping wet, to see Donna and Sam doubled over with laughter.

"What the hell just happened?! Why did a bucket just fall on my head?! And why do I get the sense it was planned?"

"A- April fool," Sam gasped, then fell about laughing again.

"It's not April! And this isn't funny!"

"Really? I thought it was," Donna snickered.

"Oh, I get it. This is payback for Halloween, right? Right?"

"Revenge is sweet." This from Leo, who was leaning in the doorway, obviously enjoying himself. CJ and Toby stood next to him, wearing amused expressions.

"Leo! You were in on this?"

"Who else was supposed to keep you out of your office while they rigged the bucket?"

"Oh, man, I don't believe this! I love this suit!"

"It's just water," Sam said, finally quelling his laughter enough to stand up straight. "It'll dry."

"But for now," Leo put in, "we are expected in the Oval Office."

"I can't go like this!"

"But you will."

"Oh... Damn," said Josh, looking forlorn. Then he picked up his files and coffee, leaving the doughnut to fend for itself, and squelched off to the Oval Office, bravely ignoring the stares and giggles which followed him down the halls.

Half an hour, one dressing-down for dripping on the Oval Office carpet, and several smart-alec remarks later, a still-damp Josh headed back to his office, studiously ignoring Sam, who was trying to apologize. He couldn't quite pull it off, though, because he couldn't seem to get past: "Josh, I'm... Ha! I'm really... ha ha ha!"

"Give it up, Sam, you're not really sorry," Josh grumbled.

"No," Sam admitted, grinning, "I'm really not."

"I can't believe you did that to me."

"I told you I'd get you."

"I... I feel like... Squishy the Squelch Man!"

"Squishy the...? Look, never mind, Josh. Everyone will have totally forgotten about this by next week."

"They will not. I'll never live this down. Especially after CJ with her stupid Polaroid camera."

Sam glanced down at the notes held, then looked back up at Josh.

"Okay, they – ow!"

"What?"

"Paper cut," Sam announced, sucking his finger.

"Hah! Serves you right," Josh informed him, adding for good measure, "Nyah."

"Nyah? How old are you, five?"

"How old are you, five?" Josh repeated mockingly.

"Now, that's just bad tempered."

"Oh, shut up."

"Donna! Go into my office."

"Why?"

"To prove to me that there is no bucket waiting to fall on me."

Donna smiled. "Aw, poor Josh. You're gonna worry about that for weeks, aren't you?"

"Just open the damn door!"

Donna rolled her eyes and opened the door with exaggerated movements. "Happy?"

"Don't you have to photocopy something or staple something or... something?"

"Actually, I am due at Nancy's desk for the noon gossip session."

"Go. Away."

"Thanks, Josh!" Donna pranced off down the corridor.

Josh watched her go for a moment, then turned to Sam, who was smirking at him.

"What are you looking at?"

"Oh, it's none of my business."

"Why are you still here, anyway?" Josh marched into his office and flopped down in his chair. Sam followed. "Go away?" Josh suggested.

"Okay, I'm going." Sam turned to leave, still smirking.

Josh sighed. "Wait, stop. What's none of your business?"

"Nothing," Sam said hurriedly.

"Not nothing. Come on, out with it."

"It's nothing. None of my business."

"Look, for some reason I'm feeling grumpy – oh, right, because someone dropped a bucket of water on my head! So I'm not in the mood for this. Let's just pretend we've already argued about this, and I won, okay?"

Sam hesitated briefly, then shrugged. "Well, I just noticed that you're in love with Donna."

"I'm *what*?!"

"You're in love with Donna," Sam repeated lightly.

"I am not!"

"Oh, yes you are."

"I am not!"

"You are sooo in love."

"I am not!!"

"Face it, Josh, you're in luuuuuuuuuuuuurv."

"I am NOT in love with Donna!"

Sam shook his head and gave his friend a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, but you are."

"I'm not! I am so not!" Josh leapt out of his chair for emphasis.

"Methinks thou doth protest too much."

"Oh, no, don't start that, don't go quoting that fancy stuff at me!"

"It's not fancy. It's Shakespeare. I think."

"Aren't they the same thing? Hey, don't change the subject! Why do you think I'm in love with Donna?"

"Oh, come on, Josh, it's obvious."

"How? How is it obvious?"

"Hey, look, I'm late for a meeting. Whoops, gotta go."

"Sam! No! Come back here!"

"Bye, Josh."

"Sam!" Josh ran after his friend, stopping just outside his office.

"Why is it obvious?" he shouted to Sam's back.

Sam raised a hand in farewell without turning around.

"I'm not in love with Donna!" Josh yelled at the top of his voice, attracting stares from all around, along with shaking heads and murmurs of, "He's in denial, poor guy," and "Does he really think we can't tell?"

"Hey, what's up?" CJ fell into step alongside Sam.

"Josh is in love with Donna," Sam informed her.

"What else is new?"

"You knew? I only figured this out ten minutes ago." Sam was rather irritated that he hadn't been the first to know about his friend's infatuation. Josh could at least have had the decency to make it apparent to him before anyone else.

"Oh, come on, Sam. It's obvious."

"Well, yes. Now. But... maybe I was thrown by that whole Joey Lucas thing."

"Not as much as Josh was."

"He's in denial, you know."

"Everybody knows."

Sam's conversation with CJ distracted him enough for a devious pot plant to sneak up on him and trip him up, sending him crashing to the ground. CJ took three steps before she noticed that Sam was no longer next to her, but sprawled in the corridor just behind.

"Sam! Are you okay?" CJ would have been concerned enough to kneel next to him, but she *was* wearing a brand new outfit, and he was moving – well, kind of – so...

"...ow..." Sam managed to roll himself over and clutched at his shin.

"Ouch, ouch. That's gonna leave a mark."

"Anything broken?" Now that it was obvious that Sam would live, CJ was hard put to keep herself from laughing.

"No. Wipe that smile off your face, you sadist." Sam scrambled to his feet. "Who put that plant there, anyway?"

"What, you think someone put it there on purpose so you'd trip over it?" CJ chuckled.

Sam stared at her. "You think?"

"Yes, Sam, it's a big conspiracy. Of course not, you dolt!"

"I'm not a dolt," Sam sulked, taking a cautious step. "Ow. What did you want, anyway?"

"Oh, uh, Toby wanted to see you."

"Fine." Sam limped away, leaving CJ gazing after him and giggling to herself.

*****

An hour later, Josh looked around furtively before ducking into Sam's office.

"I hear you had a run-in with a rabid plant," he said, shutting the door and sitting on the desk.

Sam looked up from his notepad, wondering whether this would take long enough to warrant putting down his pen. "At least people have something to laugh at other than Squishy the Squelch man."

Josh nodded, gave a sickly smile. "Look... about this whole 'I'm in love with Donna' thing –"

Sam put down the pen. "You admit it?"

"No!"

"Oh."

Josh hesitated. "You really think I'm in love with Donna?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Aren't you?"

Josh hesitated. "I dunno. You think?"

"Look, Josh," Sam said, making a sweeping gesture with his hand that knocked his coffee cup off the desk. "Damn! That's my favourite mug!"

He reached down to pick up the pieces. "Ow!" Having cut his hand on the still-intact but sharp base of the mug, he tried to sit up and slammed his head on the desk. "Ow!"

"Are you okay?"

Sam reflected morosely that people seemed to be asking him that a lot today. "Yes."

"You sure? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Sam squinted at Josh. "Depends. Is it possible you're holding up three hands?"

Josh took a quick look at his hand and shrugged. "No."

"Then... uh... twelve."

"Close enough. And do you remember where you live?"

Brief pause. "I don't need to remember that until tonight."

Good enough, Josh decided. Besides, his love life took precedence over Sam's minor injuries. "So, um, you think I should ask her out or something?"

"Who?" asked Sam, rubbing his head gingerly with the hand that wasn't bleeding.

"Donna!"

"That is the usual procedure, I believe. First you date her, then you marry her, then –"

"Whoa, stop right there. You're scaring me." Josh licked his lips nervously. "So... you think I should ask her out, then."

"Go for it."

"Okay. I'm going." Josh shook his fist in a gesture of determination as he headed for the door. "Oh, by the way, you're bleeding on your notes."

"Damn!"

Donna sat quietly in her chair, watching Josh pace back and forth in front of her desk, muttering to himself. "Something I can help you with, Joshua?"

"Hmm? Yes. No. Yes. I was wondering if..."

"Yes?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

"It's just that you've been wearing a hole in the carpet for fifteen minutes."

"Really."

"And before that you did it for half an hour before you got called away."

"Did I?" Josh said weakly.

"And then you came back."

"Yes."

"Don't you have work to do?"

"No, not really."

Donna shrugged. "Okay. I do, so I'm going to do some of it right now."

"Okay." Josh lowered his head and continued pacing.

"I'm telling you, Leo, it's a conspiracy," Sam said earnestly, waving a bandaged hand as proof. "Someone wants to... I dunno... drive me crazy, or make me break my neck or something."

"Someone is conspiring to make you break your neck?"

"Yes! First it was a paper cut, then the plant, you'll notice I'm still limping, then the mug – my favourite mug! – then I accidentally shredded a report that took me two hours to write, then when I looked on my computer it wasn't there anymore and I had to do it again, one handed, and then I burned my arm putting out a fire that Cathy inadvertently started in her waste-paper basket!"

"Sounds like you're not having a good day."

"No kidding!"

"Sam, I'm on my way to a meeting with the President-"

"Leo, you have to- ow! Damn!" Sam found himself trying to hold on to one foot and hop fast enough to keep up with Leo, and look back balefully at a brick lying innocently in the middle of the corridor.

He managed two hops before gravity caught up with him and he fell over.

"Broken toe, broken toe," he groaned, still holding his foot.

"Sam? Are you-"

"I'm fine! Broken toe! Broken – oh, damn." Sam managed to stand up and looked at Leo disconsolately.

Leo stared at him. "If it makes you feel any better, I had a broken toe once and it only hurts for about ten days. Depending on where you break it."

"Gee, ten days. Thanks. Now I feel better." Sam had gone from limp to hobble in the space of thirty seconds. "Broken toe," he whispered sadly, trying to take a step.

"Sam, I think you've been working too hard."

"I have not. It's been a slow week, Leo."

"Nevertheless, I'm sending you home."

Sam looked at his watch. "But-"

"No buts. It's a slow day, Toby can handle the slack. Go tell him I sent you home, and then... take the rest of the day off. Buy Mallory some flowers or something. Maybe go to a hospital, get your toe x- rayed. Not that there's much they can do."

Sam sighed. "Okay."

"Good." Leo walked off to his meeting with the President, and Sam hobbled over to Toby's office, muttering to himself, "Paper cut. Bruised shin. Cut hand. Concussion. Shredded report. Burned arm. Broken toe. Sent home. At least it can't get any worse."

"Josh, would you *please* stop pacing! You're giving me a headache."

"Sorry. Um, um, um, I was wondering if, well, whether, well. Would you..."

"Yes?"

"Like to..."

"What?"

"Well, you know how I occasionally consult you about my, uh... romantic prospects."

"Yes?"

"Yes, and I was wondering if you could give me some advice."

"About what?"

"I was wondering how I would go about asking you out in such a way that you would be bound to say yes."

Donna blinked. "What, like on a date?"

"Well, no, I wouldn't called it a *date*, exactly, more of a – yes, like a date."

"Okay... you could start by saying, 'Donna, will you go out with me?'"

"Donna, will you go out with me?"

"When?"

"Tonight?"

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Of course, really."

"Great!" Josh clapped his hands. "Terrific! Okay! I'm gonna go now!"

"Bye."

"Yeah! I'm going out with Donna!" Josh capered out into the wide world of the White House in search of someone to tell, thinking that this was turning out to be a pretty good day after all. Donna watched him go, smiling.

"Goof," she murmured to herself.

"And then I broke my toe, and now I have to go home." Sam's shoulders slumped dejectedly as he explained his situation to Toby, who was thinking that if someone was trying to drive Sam crazy, they were doing a pretty good job.

"I think that's a good idea."

"I'm telling you, Toby, someone's out to get me. What was a brick doing in the middle of the West Wing?"

"Get out of my office." Toby was about to leave himself, and there was no way he was letting Sam run around in his office unsupervised.

He might touch something. Relenting slightly, he patted Sam on the shoulder as he walked past. "Look, if someone is doing this on purpose, which no one is, it's probably just an April fool thing."

Toby shook his head as he walked away. Sam stared after him.

"But it's not even April," he whispered miserably, before turning and limping away.

A Secret Service agent waited until he was out of sight before speaking to his wrist, the way they do. "Princeton's on his way home," he said softly, then snickered. "Make sure that slippery patch of ice by his car is ready." Then, talking to himself like a crazy person, and wearing an evil smile, he added: "April fool. Ha. Ha. Ha."