Josh smirked as he turned off his television and strolled out of his office. Working for the President certainly had its perks - the air conditioning kept the temperature at a comfortable constant all year round. Although, now that he thought about it, it did seem a little warmer than usual. Hmm.

"Donna!"

Donna gave a long-suffering sigh. "Yes, Josh?"

"Is it just me, or is it warmer than it should be?"

"It's just you, Josh."

"Check it out, will you?" Josh didn't even wait to see her nod before proceeding to his original destination, which was Leo's office.

"... So he wants nothing to do with it, and also, is it getting hot in here or is it just me?" Sam looked around thoughtfully.

"You know, I just asked Donna the same thing!" Josh said.

Leo shook his head. "This is the White House," he informed them, speaking slowly as if they were children. "The air conditioning keeps the temperature at a comfortable constant all year round. Okay?"

Sam and Josh exchanged looks, and shrugged. "Okay."

Half an hour later, Sam and Josh strode down the corridor, on their way to watch CJ give the press their morning briefing.

"It is a little warm, right?" Sam asked, answering his own question by loosening his tie and taking off his jacket.

"Well, here's a passing Donna to tell us. Donna!" Josh grabbed Donna's arm as she passed by, swinging her around to face him.

"Yes, Josh?" she asked, patiently.

"Did you check out the heat thing?"

"Yeah, it seems the air conditioning is broken."

Josh gaped at her. "It's what?"

"Broken. Damaged. Not in working order."

"I know what it means!" Josh snapped.

"How can it be broken?" Sam interjected, cutting short the burgeoning argument. "Don't they have regular checkups or something?"

"Probably." Donna shifted her attention to Sam. "But it's broken now. Only in the West Wing, though."

"Do we not have people that fix these things?"

"We do."

Josh heaved a sigh of frustration. "Well, when will it be fixed?"

Donna looked back to Josh. Like watching a tennis match, she thought. "I called the guy, and he says they can only fit us in day after tomorrow."

"They *what*?!"

"You did tell them that this is the White House, right?"

Donna rolled her eyes. "Let's see. The guy said, quote, 'White House, shmite house, we can't show preferential treatment just because it's the President. We got other clients, lady, it's the hottest day of the year.' Unquote."

"He said they can't show preferential treatment to the *President*?" Sam repeated incredulously. "We need a new guy!"

Donna smiled sweetly. "I'll work on that," she assured them, then, gently removing Josh's grip on her arm, she proceeded on her merry way.

Josh stared at Sam. Sam stared at Josh.

"You know what this means," Josh said nervously.

"It's gonna get hot in here," Sam replied fearfully.

"I can't handle heat, man."

Sam laughed apprehensively. "Oh, well... Donna will find someone to fix it. It's the White House, for Pete's sake."

Josh nodded, stepped toward his office, and hesitated. "Hey... when's that thing?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"What thing?"

"The thing!"

"Today's thing or Thursday's thing?"

"Thursday's thing."

"Oh, well, that's on Thursday."

"Okay." With a heavy sigh, Josh plodded to his office. Sam did the same, already wondering how he could get a Sam-sized ice cube into his office without it melting and leaving a puddle on the floor.

"Sam?" Toby burst through Sam's office door and stood still, looking around angrily. The bastard wasn't here! He was supposed to be working on a speech! He was probably off sulking because Toby had told him the first draft was "fine-ish". Anything less than perfect and... Muttering to himself, Toby turned to leave, only to be stopped by a weak voice saying, "Yeah?"

Toby paused, eyed the empty office thoughtfully, then strode over to the desk and looked behind it. Sam was lying spread-eagled on the floor, eyes closed. An expression of concern flickered over Toby's face.

"Sam? You okay?"

Sam opened his eyes. "Oh, sure. It's cooler down here, you know."

Toby growled softly. "Why aren't you working on the speech?"

"I was... but... it's too hot to think... so... and it's cooler on the floor." Sam paused, then added, "Not much cooler, mind you."

"Sam, get up and write the damn speech."

"But it's too hot..." Sam whined, before defiantly closing his eyes again.

Toby scowled down at his deputy for a few seconds, then turned on his heel and stalked out.

"Sam?"

"Mmf?"

Cathy took a few steps into the office, holding something bulky behind her back. "Josh wants to see you, but I said you'd get back to him because Toby wanted me to give you a message."

Sam forced his eyes open and gazed at the ceiling for a moment, then rolled over and crawled to his chair, pulling himself into it.

"Melodramatic twit," said Cathy.

Sam stared at her. "Rapscallion. What's that behind your back?"

"It's... It's a bucket of ice water. Toby gave it to me."

"And what are you planning on doing with that?"

Cathy hesitated, walked up to Sam, and upended the bucket over his head. "That," she said nervously.

An ice cube slipped off Sam's head and bounced off his nose on the way down. After a moment, he ran a hand down his face, wiping off the excess moisture, and grinned. "Cathy, remind me to get you a raise."

Ignoring her astonished look, he stood up, shook himself like a dog, spraying little droplets of water everywhere, murmured, "Josh, you say?" and left. Cathy stared after him for a moment before going back to work, muttering about heat affecting people's brains.

"Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes. Yes. No, sir. Senator-" Josh rolled his eyes as Sam came in, pointing to the phone he held and then slapping his forehead. "Sir, it's very hot, so – Sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Oh, kiss my ass." Josh slammed down the phone with more than a hint of satisfaction.

"That's getting to be a habit with you," Sam observed.

"Yeah," said Josh, looking up. "This new campaign strategy rocks. The hell?"

"What? Oh." Sam glanced self-consciously at his drenched suit and shrugged. "It sure keeps the heat at bay."

Realization dawned. "The message from Toby?"

"He didn't like me lying on the floor of my office. It was unproductive, I guess."

Josh tore his eyes away from the ice cube that had lodged between Sam's tie and his collar and shook his head. "Yeah. Uh, you wanna keep being unproductive?"

"Sure."

"Well, I figure we can't wait around for this repair guy."

"So?"

They were interrupted by a polite knock on the door, which was followed by Cathy poking her head in and saying, "Scoundrel."

"Wench," Sam replied absently.

"Curmudgeon."

"Demimondaine," Sam responded unhesitatingly. Cathy mouthed silently for a second, then, frustrated, slunk away to check her thesaurus, slamming the door behind her.

Josh blinked. "What...?"

Sam shrugged. "She insulted me yesterday and I responded, and now she keeps trying to one-up me."

Josh nodded slowly. "Uh-huh. You should fire her."

Sam was shocked. "I can't fire her!"

"Sure you can! I fire Donna all the time! Mind you," Josh added thoughtfully, "I never seem to get around to actually arranging a severance package and giving her the boot, but it does tend to cut short conversations like this."

Donna looked in. "I called another two repairmen but the Secret Service guys say that they have to run a background check and that would take at least two days anyway and I don't want to make another phone call, my ear hurts!" she whined.

"You're fired," Josh said.

"Josh!" Donna pouted. "Okay, I'll try again."

Josh nodded as she closed the door, and looked at Sam. "See?"

Sam shrugged. "You were saying, so?"

"So, we fix the air conditioning ourselves."

Sam took a startled step backwards. "What are you, nuts? No way!"

"Oh, come on! Once we get this place cool again, we'll be hailed as heroes."

"No. No way. I know you and your scams – never again. Not after last time."

Josh waved a hand dismissively. "I can't help it if that cop had no sense of humor."

"That wasn't it, Josh. It was more that you acted like a pompous ass."

"I swear, if we get in trouble, I'll take the blame. And I won't act like a pompous ass."

Sam hesitated, teetering on the edge of being convinced.

"Tell you what. I'll fix it, and you can just come and watch me, keep me company. I won't do anything you don't want me to," Josh said hopefully, watching Sam's no-way expression change to one of mere doubt.

"I don't know..."

"Oh, come on. Please? I'll owe you one." Josh put on his best puppy-dog face and added, "Buddy?"

Sam sighed. "Okay. But-"

"Thanks, pal! Let's go!" Josh gave Sam an enthusiastic, and rather painful, slap on the back as he exited his office, then wheeled around again. "Er... any idea where this air conditioning thing is?"

Sam mutely put his hand over his face, wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into this time.

"A little *too* dark," Josh said, hitting the light switch.

"And quiet."

"A little *too* quiet."

Sam stepped inside and sneezed. "And dusty!"

"A little *too*-"

"Shut up!" Sam snapped.

Josh rolled his eyes and produced a toolbox.

Sam looked up nervously, eyeing Josh's feet, which were dangling in front of his face.

"What're you doing now, Josh?"

"I'm – oof – hold the torch a bit higher, would you?"

"I can't!" Sam was already on tip-toes. "You wouldn't need it if you weren't up in a hole in the roof!"

"With... the... hang on, one more... OW!"

"What? What?"

"I just gave myself a bit of a shock. Pliers."

"*Pliers?* Why do you want pliers?"

"Just gimme the-"

"Demimondaine?!" Cathy stormed into the room. "You... you... varlet!"

"Um... scoundrel..." Sam muttered, teetering.

"Knave."

"...harridan... And you're fired."

"Oh, stuff it," Cathy snapped, and stormed out again. Demimondaine indeed! The nerve! Sam sighed.

"Gimme the pliers." Josh irritably completed his order.

Sam gave him the pliers.

"Right," said Josh. "Now, if I just-"

There was a *snap* sound, followed by a crackle, and then all the lights went out.

Josh said, "... oops..."

The President faced his wayward senior staffers solemnly. "I didn't even know it was possible to cause the entire White House to black out," he said. "Not even for five minutes."

"Live and learn," Josh said jokingly. The President silenced him with a glance.

Sam was worried. The President had insisted on speaking to them alone – not even Leo was present, although he was sure the Chief of Staff was dying to get his hands on them. Not to mention Toby. He shuddered.

"The Secret Service still isn't entirely convinced it wasn't a terrorist attack."

"Even after we explained?"

"Even then." The President allowed them to shake their heads at the over-zealousness of the Secret Service, but glared when Josh opened his mouth to comment.

"Next time you can get the pliers your damn self," Sam whispered to Josh.

POTUS sank into a chair and sighed. "What am I going to do with you two?"

"If I may say so, sir, the air conditioning is fixed now," Sam put in helpfully.

"Because Toby threatened the repairman with a treason charge if he didn't come!" the President snapped. "You're lucky I'm not going to fire the both of you!" He eyed the two downcast staffers in silence for a moment before adding, "And next time you want to cool everyone down, buy them ice creams. Setting off the sprinkler system just ruined many a good outfit, as Donna so enthusiastically informed me."

Josh groaned. "Donna's gonna kill me."

The President grinned. "Now, Sam, knowing you, this wasn't your idea."

"No, sir," Sam said nervously.

"You were just led astray, right?"

"Well, no, uh, I did go willingly, sir." Sam had long ago decided that with the President, honesty was the best way to go. "Although," he added thoughtfully, "if I'd known what Josh was going to do, I think it goes without saying that I would've stopped him."

"Good answer," the President said. "Because if you'd agreed with me, I probably would have fired you."

"...Oh..." Sam said weakly, then sneezed. Oh, great, he thought sourly. Now the ice water that Cathy had thrown at him was giving him a cold.

"Luckily for you, I happen to find this situation rather amusing." In response to their astonished looks, the President chuckled. "The expression on the face of every Secret Service agent in sight when the power went out will forever be a happy memory for me. Not to mention what Toby said when the sprinkler system shorted out his computer."

Sam swallowed. Toby was going to take this out on him, he knew it.

"Thereby wiping out his hard drive," the President added.

Sam groaned softly. He was a dead man.

"Now, I can't just let this go, so what I'll do is, Josh, I'm turning you over to Toby, and Sam, I'm giving you to Leo."

Josh relaxed visibly. Toby was bound to go easier on him than Leo would have. Sam, on the other hand, was seriously contemplating throwing himself out of the window. The only thing stopping him was the thought that doing so would accomplish nothing more than making him look even more like an idiot.

"Now," the President continued, "you may wonder why I'm not just letting your respective bosses deal with their subordinate. Reason is as follows: a lot of what Toby said applied to you, Josh, and judging by what he said, he'd like to deal with you directly."

Josh's face fell, and he shuddered. He hated being on the receiving end of Toby's temper.

"And, Sam, Leo's reaction to the situation was similar to mine – amusement, that is to say – but I feel certain he'll come up with a punishment suitable to your role in this fiasco."

Sure, Sam thought gloomily. Something nasty enough to make him beg for mercy, no doubt.

The President beamed at the crestfallen men. "Gentlemen, you are dismissed," he said.

The next day, a heinously overworked Josh found time to stop by at Sam's office, and was rather surprised to find him on his knees in front of Cathy's desk, a bunch of flowers in one hand and a box of doughnuts in the other.

"I'm sorry, so, so sorry," he was saying. "Please forgive me and go back to arranging my schedule?"

Cathy glared at him. "You called me a, a, a demimondaine! That was horrible!"

"I'm sorry, I, I, I'd forgotten what it meant, I just knew it was an insult, I'm sorry!"

"You used a big word to call me a - a harlot! And then you fired me!"

"I didn't mean it! You know that - you're still here!"

"Only because Donna caught me cleaning out my desk and explained."

Sam put on his most dejected expression and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Cathy struggled to maintain her anger in the face of this unexpected onslaught – she hadn't even known he had a puppy-dog look - but it was no use. She sighed. "Apology accepted." She grabbed the flowers and doughnuts irritably and said, "Are these chocolate doughnuts?"

"Absolutely," Sam grinned, getting to his feet.

Now even the irritation faded. She smiled and said, "You have an appointment with Mallory in ten minutes, until 4. Leo set it up."

Sam's grin faded. "Thanks," he muttered, and escaped to his office, where he found Josh sitting in his chair, with his head cocked quizzically to one side.

"What was that about?"

Sam glared at him, stifling a cough. "You and your bright ideas. 'You're fired.' Oh yeah, works great. I had to beg for three hours straight to get her to tell me my next appointment. Which, as it turns out, is going to be a three hour row with Mallory over whether Valentine's day is overworked hype or a not-to-be-missed opportunity to show your 'significant other' how much you care. And that is your fault too, thank you so very much, Mr. Handyman. And I'm sick, too, which isn't your fault, but I'm blaming you anyway. And also, get out of my chair."

Josh slid out of the chair, and Sam slid into it. Josh raised an eyebrow. "That's your punishment? Leo's got you at odds with Mallory? That's it?"

Sam grimaced. "It's enough," he stated with considerable conviction, flashing back to a long dispute the night before, during what was supposed to be a peaceful dinner. He looked up, finally taking in Josh's harried state. "Why? What's Toby making you do?"

"I have to deal with the 816 meetings."

"All of them?" Sam gave a low whistle, which turned into a hoarse cough. "That'll keep you busy for a couple of weeks."

"With some of the most boring people in the government, and I'm not allowed to tell any of them to kiss my ass. Speaking of busy, I should really go." Josh shook his head as he headed for the door.

"You got off easy, pal. Look to the future – you know, the part where you make up after the fight."

Sam grinned. Trust Josh to throw a whole new light on things. The phone rang shrilly, interrupting his thoughts.

"Hello? Hi, Mallory."

Josh brought himself up short. He wanted to hear this.

"Cancel?" Sam sagged with relief. "No, that's all right. I understand. Sure. Yeah. Oh, sweetie, do we have to do this on the phone? I'm sorry. No, I'll never call you sweetie again. Of course I want to, but you just said I shouldn't! Okay, I will then." Sam threw a "help-me" look at Josh, who smirked.

"No, I haven't changed my position on Valentine's day. No, see, I don't think I should need a special day to show you how much I care. Why can't I do that every day?"

Sam slumped in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. Finally, he'd found an argument that worked, he thought in relief as he listened to Mallory simper about how sweet he was. "Okay, I'll see you tonight. I may not be very good company, though. Sure, chicken soup sounds great. Bye, honey." Sam hung up before Mallory could berate him for calling her "honey", and turned back to Josh.

"Smooth," Josh observed.

Sam saluted mockingly. "That's me," he said. "It's ten after one. Get out of my office."

Josh looked horrified. "Late!" he yelped, and took off at a run.

Sam laughed to himself as he reached for a file so he could get back to being productive, and changed course mid-reach to pick up the phone, which had started ringing again.

"Talk to me," he said, cheerfully. "Oh, hello, Senator. Josh is handling that now. Yes. Right, finally someone competent." Sam held the phone away from his ear and stuck his tongue out at it. "Yeah, so call him, 'cause I don't care anymore. Yes, sir. No, sir." Then, because Josh wasn't allowed to and the West Wing had a new improved reputation to uphold, and also because he wanted to, he said, "Kiss my ass, Senator," and hung up. But, because he was Sam, he did it politely.

He picked up the file he'd been aiming for before the phone rang, and flipped through it idly, the realization slowly dawning on him that he didn't have much work to do. He beamed at the thought of Josh running around bowing and scraping to a bunch of Senators and the like, then felt guilty. With a heavy sigh, he decided that maybe he would help Josh out, just for today. He hated being the cheerful, helpful one, but there you are, he thought. Can't change your nature.

He got to his feet and headed to Josh's office, hoping that Donna would be able to tell him where he was. As he got into the corridor, a blast of cool air hit him. Thank God, he thought delightedly. The temperature in the West Wing was back to being maintained at a comfortable constant. All year round. Nevertheless, he made a mental note to make sure Donna got them a new guy... for the next time (creepy-type music).