Erzulie
Part 1

Luna and Jessica
authors' homepage

---

"Sex is love. Period. This I believe."

Zoey Bartlet stared at her father across the breakfast table. "Dad, I'm twenty years old."

Jed nodded sagely. "And I know that's a very vulnerable age for a girl, and that's why I'm trying to tell you--"

"You know, Lizzie was already married when she was my age," Zoey teased.

"Times have changed."

"They sure have."

He looked at her over the top of his glasses. "Are you--"

"Whatever you're going to ask me, I'm pretty sure you'd really rather not."

"Yeah. You used to listen to me, you know."

"I still do, most of the time." She walked around the table cheerfully and kissed him on the cheek. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"You were this tiny little girl," he said glumly.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the office by now?" Zoey called as she left the room.

"Yeah."


* * *


"Please?" Josh asked.

C.J. walked faster. "No."

"Come on."

He made a feint toward the bag of candy in her hand; she jerked it out of his reach. "It's not for you."

"Why'd you bring candy for the press corps and not for us?" he demanded, as they rounded the corner and crossed the bullpen.

"Lots of reasons. You don't bring me flowers, you don't sing me love songs...."

"Neither does the press corps."

"Is that chocolate?" Sam asked, as he fell into step with them. He reached for the bag.

C.J. slapped his hand away. "Yes, it is, and no, you can't have any."

"You know, you can be so cruel."

"That's right. I'm a mean old lady."

"I've been saying that for years," Toby remarked, emerging from his office.

She shot a sidelong glance in his direction. "Get off my lawn before I call the cops."

They filed into Leo's office. "Good morning," he said, in a tone that suggested it was anything but.

"Good morning, Leo." C.J. approached his desk. "Would you like a Hershey Kiss?"

He looked up, surprised. "Thank you."

"So he gets one and we don't," Josh said, frowning.

She rolled her eyes. "Have you ever heard the expression 'sweets to the sweet'?"

"Are you saying you want me to suck up to you for a couple of cheap pieces of candy?"

"It couldn't hurt."

"Could we get on task, please?" Leo interrupted, sternly.

"How was Florida?" Toby asked.

"Florida was fine. The meetings were fine, the money's fine. The flight was the flight from hell. Listen, Lou Woliver's coming in today."

Toby grimaced. "Hide the knives."

Leo gave Toby a lightly reproachful look. "The President likes him for the EPA."

"So do I," Sam added.

"Great, because you two are going to spend the day vetting him. If we're going to ask him, we'd better be sure he'll say yes. C.J.--"

"Nothing to the press," she said automatically. "It was a routine meeting; no decision has been made about the EPA appointment."

"Good. Josh, see what you can find out about the Airline Passenger Rights bill that died in the House a while back."

"Didn't we kill that one?" Josh wondered.

"We let it go. Look into it for me." Leo leaned back in his chair. "I think that's the new business, so far. Make it a good day, guys."

As they started to leave, Toby turned back. "You know, Louis Woliver is certifiably--"

"If I can live with Marbury," Leo said. Toby nodded and walked out. Leo watched them go and picked up the piece of chocolate C.J. had left on his desk. He unwrapped the foil and popped it into his mouth, and a smile crossed his face before he reached for the phone.


* * *


Sam walked quickly through the halls, maneuvering easily as he skimmed a file on global warming and reviewed his notes. He turned the corner towards his office and greeted his assistant.

"Morning, Cathy."

"Good morning." She didn't look up from her computer screen. "Your eight-thirty is here."

Sam paused next to her desk, but continued reading. "What eight-thirty?"

"Your eight-thirty appointment. She's here."

"I don't have an eight-thirty appointment."

"Yes, you do. I left you a memo about it on Friday."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did."

Sam closed the folder. "What did it say?"

"That you have an eight-thirty appointment today."

"I didn't get a memo."

"Well, I left you a memo."

He glanced at his watch. "Is it a huge thing?"

Cathy shrugged. "It didn't sound like it. Lisa Jiang wanted to see you to discuss your stock portfolio."

"What? I don't have -- oh." His shoulders slumped.

"Sam?"

"Oh."

"Do you want me to tell her you can't do it today?" Cathy looked at him.

He removed his glasses slowly and shook his head. "No, I can -- no." He took a moment to steel his nerves, then inhaled deeply and opened the door to his office.

"Nice digs," she said, running her hand across his desk.

"I don't have a stock portfolio."

"Your secretary doesn't know that."

"She's my assistant," he said coldly.

"Whatever." Lisa crossed her arms and smiled. "Hi."

Sam's voice was quiet. "What do you want?"

"I was in the neighborhood."

"This isn't--"

"You look good." She smiled again. "I like your tie."

He stepped around her and sat at his desk. "I'm busy."

"You don't look busy."

"I work in the White House, Lisa. I'm always busy." He opened his folder and began writing random words on a piece of paper, hoping she would think he was taking notes.

"I have reservations at Barolo this afternoon. Meet me there at one." She headed for the door, then stopped. "See you, Seaborn."

Sam watched her leave, then placed his pen on his desk with a shaky hand.

"Hey." C.J. knocked and entered the office. "I wanted to ask you about--"

"Sam!" Josh ran into the room.

C.J. looked at him, then at Sam. "Anyway, I wanted to--"

Josh interrupted again. "Was that...?" Sam nodded miserably.

"Who?" C.J. asked.

"What was she--"

"I don't know." Sam stood.

"Who?" C.J. asked again.

Josh shook his head. "I can't believe--"

"I know!"

"Hello!" They looked at C.J. "Who?"

Josh cleared his throat. "That woman who just left? That was Lisa Jiang."

"And that name is supposed to mean what to me?"

"She's my fiancee," Sam spoke up.

C.J. furrowed her brow. "Your fiancee?"

"Well, she was my fiancee."

"So she's your ex-fiancee."

"She's a force of evil," Josh said helpfully.

Sam rolled his eyes. "She is not."

Josh raised his eyebrows and looked at C.J. "Evil," he mouthed.


* * *


"Margaret!"

She leaned into Leo's office. "Yes?"

"Get American Airlines on the phone for me. I'm going to register a complaint."

"They have a customer comments hotline," Margaret pointed out.

"I don't want to talk to some random flunky, I want to talk to someone important." Leo picked up some memos and read it while he spoke. "They put us in the shuttle, they drove us away from the gate, and we circled around the tarmac for two and a half hours."

"I was once stuck in Newark Airport for four," she said.

"What were you doing in Newark?"

"I was waiting for a flight. I was going to visit--"

"What does this note mean?"

"Which one?"

"SFTM. SFTM. What is that? Secretary for...?"

"Send flowers to Mallory," Margaret explained.

"For what?" He frowned, trying to remember. "It's not her birthday. Is it?"

"It's Valentine's Day."

"Oh. So that's why the Hershey Kisses."

"What Hershey Kisses?"

"Never mind. Get me the Secretary of Transportation, set up a meeting for later. And call American Airlines, would you?"

Margaret sighed. "Is this going to be like when you call up the New York Times to correct their spelling?"

He looked up at her severely. "The Airline Passenger Bill of Rights would prevent airlines from giving false information to passengers. It would guarantee timely compensation to the hundreds of Americans who deal with flight delays and cancellations, and it would put penalties in place for underselling flights and losing baggage. This is a real thing. Don't make light of it."

"Okay." She backed towards the door.

"And the New York Times shouldn't need me to correct their spelling!" He yelled after her.

"Okay!"


* * *


Toby flipped dourly through a file as Sam came into his office. "I've got about a hundred pages Woliver wrote about the glory of the Mississippi River. I could just be reading Mark Twain right now."

"Yeah." Sam said distractedly. "Listen. I've got this lunch thing."

"Lunch thing?"

"Yeah. I'm going to have to duck out of the Woliver meeting a little early."

"No way," Toby replied. "I'm not flying solo on this one. You're the tree hugger here."

"Tree hugger?" Sam repeated with disapproval. "When did you turn into a Republican? Was I absent that day?"

"Quite possibly."

"Don't make jokes about this. This is incredibly important."

Toby nodded. "You need to stay in the meeting, Sam."

Sam sighed and dropped onto Toby's couch. "I know. But I have to -- I wouldn't ask if it wasn't--"

"Incredibly important?" he quipped. "Fine. Do your lunch thing. I can deal with Colonel Sanders for an hour if I have to."

"I thought Colonel Sanders was from Kentucky."

"He's a cartoon."

Sam rested his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes. "Louis Woliver's a good man, Toby."

"He's also the poster child for--"

A large shadow fell across the open door. "Ladies!" a jovial voice thundered. Ginger and Bonnie could be heard giggling.

Toby pushed his chair back from his desk and stood. "Here we go."

Louis Woliver strode into Toby's office with a loud guffaw. "Mr. Seaborn. Mr. Ziegler."

Sam stood and shook his hand. "Congressman Woliver. Thanks for coming down."

He waved Sam away. "I can spare a little time away from representing the people. What can I do for you?"

"Well, we're interested in discussing your stance on several issues of environmental policy," Sam said.

"You're interested or the President's interested?" Woliver asked.

Toby spoke carefully. "The President will be interested in what we say to him about this meeting."

"I see." Woliver glanced back and forth between Toby and Sam. "You know, if I meet with the President, you won't be able to talk him out of hiring me."

Toby tilted his head back and looked at Woliver with distaste. "You'll find that this administration is considerably more resistant to your charms than you seem to think."

"I'm not charming," Woliver said gleefully. "I'm obnoxious and disliked. I'm also exactly what Josiah Bartlet wants for the EPA, and all three of us know that." He settled his bulk on Toby's couch and folded his hands. "So, gentlemen. Small talk's out of the way. Let's talk about the future of the planet."


* * *


"What are you doing?"

Josh entered his office and found Donna sitting at his desk, work spread around her.

"I'm hiding from that scary man."

Josh's eyes twinkled. "You're hiding from Toby?"

"I'm hiding from that scary man from the Bayou."

"Donna, you're talking about a United States Congressman."

"Yeah, a big, sweaty, scary Congressman." She looked at him. "Now stop bothering me. I have work to do."

"Get out of my office!"

She made a face. "Josh, if I go back out there, he's going to tell me about how his grandpappy used to skin alligators or something."

"Did you just say 'grandpappy'?" he chuckled. "Seriously, Donna, buck up. It's not Louis Woliver's fault that you come from the frozen tundra of the Midwest."

Donna glared at him and began gathering her things. "You know, with that attitude, it's no wonder you don't have a Valentine."

"Hi, Donna." Charlie stuck his head into the office. "Hey, Josh."

"Watch out for him," she warned as she swept out. "He's a small, little man today."

"Small and little, both?" Josh shouted after her. He turned to Charlie. "How's the President this morning?"

"He keeps looking at me like he thinks I'm going to steal George Washington's ceremonial silver."

"Is there actually any--"

"I don't know. Could I ask you something?"

"Sure." Josh sat down behind his desk, folding his arms behind his head.

"I don't know if you're the right guy to ask this, but the alternative was to ask Sam, and Sam definitely isn't the right guy to ask about women."

"Oh, it's about women!" Josh grinned. "Believe it or not, Charlie, I'm not as inept with the opposite sex as I look."

"Yeah, well. Either way." Charlie shuffled his feet. "I need to think of something to do for Zoey. A gift or something."

Josh took this in, then laughed softly. "That's sweet."

"Josh...."

"No, really. You could give her a card you made yourself."

"If you're just going to make fun of me, I'll go."

"With little stickers. Roses are red--" As Charlie started to leave, Josh took a breath. "Hang on. I'm sorry."

He came back in. "So what should I do?"

"The big thing is, you have to make her feel needed. Women like to know that they're important. You have to show her that she's valuable, that she's not just wasting her time--" Through the window beyond Charlie, Josh caught sight of Donna, reorganizing the items on her desk. He stopped short.

Charlie waited for him to go on. "So I should get Zoey... what?"

"God," Josh said in an undertone. "I am as inept as I look." He covered his face with his hands.

"Yeah." Charlie looked at him oddly. "Okay. I'm gonna go back to the real world now."

Josh spoke dismally through his fingers. "Okay."


* * *


"...And, as you know, a series of budget meetings are scheduled for the weeks ahead. I'm sure you're all looking forward to that as much as we are."

"C.J., what--"

"I thought we were done, Katie."

Danny spoke up. "Yes, we are."

"No, we're not."

C.J. chuckled. "Looks like someone is undermining your authority here, Danny."

"What is the White House's official position on the Family Values March?" Katie asked.

"There isn't one." C.J. rifled through her folder. "To be honest with you, I don't know that the President is even aware that's going on."

"Well, does the White House support the cause of family unity?"

C.J. looked steadily at the reporter. "You know, I'll have to check on that." To a general chorus of laughter, she added, "Thanks."

As the press dispersed, Danny followed C.J. out of the room. "Hey, thanks for the candy."

"You're welcome."

"Can I have a kiss?"

"No."

"I mean another Hershey Kiss."

"The answer's still no. One to a customer."

He went after her. "So what's Woliver doing here?"

C.J. wasn't fazed. "It's not unusual for members of Congress to meet with the White House staff on a variety of issues."

"Sure, but Lou Woliver's an unusual member of Congress."

"All right, you caught me." She perched on the edge of her desk. "I invited him down here to put a hex on you."

"Can he really do that?"

"Wouldn't put it past him." C.J. picked up a few pieces of candy from her desk, idly rotating them in her hand. Danny reached out swiftly and tried to grab one. She yanked them away. "Danny. No means no."

"I suppose." He turned diffidently for the door. "If I burst spontaneously into flames, I'm blaming you."

She smiled. "Credit where it's due."


* * *


"Global warming--"

"Don't screw with me, Seaborn."

"Global warming--" Sam tried again.

Woliver glowered at him. "Global warming is a serious public concern. The most recent studies suggest that the temperature may rise ten degrees in the next hundred years, there's little doubt that it's attributable to human activity, and I live in the world, Seaborn, so why are you telling me this like I don't know?"

Toby rubbed his forehead. "It needs to be a priority for the EPA."

"Really? You know, we were just going to sit around and play poker." He leaned back on the couch, tapping his fingers on his knee. "Of course global warming needs to be a priority. I'd love to have all the time in the world to devote to solving that one. But you know what? More than fifty cities get their drinking water from the Mississippi River."

"Thank you, Huckleberry Finn," Toby muttered.

"We're talking about millions of people. We're talking about power plant discharges, agricultural and urban runoff -- we're talking industrial and human waste in your drinking water. If we don't fix that, there won't be many people here to enjoy the warm winter weather a century from now."

Sam paced around the office thoughtfully. "What's your opinion of this administration's track record on environmental issues?"

Woliver considered this. "You've made some efforts, mostly cosmetic ones, at enforcing existing laws and corporate responsibility. You've taken a few half-assed stabs at fighting pollution, but you're scared to do anything that might bother the oil industry. All in all, you're marginally better than your predecessors."

"I'm not an environmentalist," Toby said. Sam coughed. A warning look from Toby silenced him. "I'm not an environmentalist. While there are American children suffering for lack of food, education, and medical care, I think it's inappropriate to pour large amounts of federal money into the pockets of special interests and fringe groups."

"And I am an environmentalist," Woliver countered. "I'm also not dumb enough to think you can feed starving children and poison their air and expect it'll all work out in the end."

"Toby's not saying--" Sam began.

"I know what he's saying." He grinned toothily. "I'm going to get into it during budget negotiations. I'm going to draw fire by being an outspoken advocate of my pet causes. I'm more trouble than I'm worth. Ziegler?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much what I'm saying, Sam."

"If you want to be here," Woliver continued, "if you want Democrats to vote for you twenty-one months from now, you're going to have to cut the crap. Don't try to screw me, Seaborn. I'll be more than happy to bend you over this desk and ride you all the way back up to the Hill."

Bemused, Sam and Toby stared at the large, smiling man. The silence was broken by a shrill beep. Sam jumped and realized it was the alarm on his watch. He looked at Toby. "I have--"

"The lunch thing." Toby nodded wearily. "Go."

Woliver offered Sam his hand. "Pleasure talking with you."

Sam shook it awkwardly, shot Toby a bewildered look, and bolted from the room.

Toby rested his chin in his hand and regarded Woliver grimly for a long moment. "Okay. Let's talk about petroleum storage."

---

part 2

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