Title: WHkid@aol.com Zoey sat back and clicked the 'Post' button. Her latest story, this time a 'Steve and James go to a night-club' fic would appear on the website in a few minutes. Surfing the net one evening, she had discovered that people actually wrote stories based on a TV programme, called simply ‘1600’, about the people who, in the programme, worked in the White House. She had joined a few of the sites, read most of the stories which appeared on them, then, after a few days, sent in her own story, and waited nervously for the reaction. The feedback had been positive, encouraging her to write another. And another. The site's owner, Sarah Bennett, had eventually sent her an email asking her if she actually worked at The White House as her stories seemed so full of detail. She had replied, denying any connection to the place, citing extensive research as the reason for her stories apparent authenticity. She knew some, mainly younger, members of the West Wing staff surfed the net extensively, and wondered if Sam or Josh ever watched the TV programme or knew about the Internet sites connected with it. The idea that they might, and might read her stories without ever realising it was her work, made her smile. ************* Ron Butterfield didn’t have to like the people he was protecting. But Bartlet was okay. The Chief of Staff on the other hand, was not on his list of people he would like to spend time with. But… ‘Mr McGarry, I need a few minutes of your time. There’s a problem with Zoey.’ Leo looked up. However much work there was to do, in Jed’s absence, Leo always felt protective towards his God-daughter, and sighed, putting aside the folder he had been working on. ************** Leo listened, his face reflecting his horror at what Ron was telling him. ‘Get Zoey here. Now!’ ‘Mr McGarry, Zoey’s in classes until four. Gina’s bringing her back here then.’ ‘Thanks Ron.’ ‘Sir, what Zoey’s doing, it’s not illegal.’ ‘Ron, she’s the President’s daughter. That’s it.’ ‘Yes Sir.’ *************** It was easier now. When Zoey knew about her father’s MS, and Leo didn’t, every time he went away and Leo asked to see her, she assumed the worst. Now when he called her into his office, she at least knew he understood her first question would always be about her father. ‘Is Dad okay?’ ‘Yeah, Zoey, he’s fine. Look, we need to talk about something.’ ‘What?’ ************* The conversation degenerated into an argument. Finally, losing his temper, Leo snapped: ‘Stop doing it! With, in Leo’s opinion, typical Bartlet stubbornness she was probably unaware of, Zoey shook her head. ‘No!’ Lowering his voice a little, Leo said wearily: ‘I’ll tell your Dad.’ Knowing it would be another week before Leo got an opportunity to speak to her father about her online activities, Zoey’s response was bold: ‘Go on then.’ Leo sighed as his office door slammed closed. ************** ‘Ron, can we see if we can get the site owner to remove it?’ ‘I already tried Sir. She won't do it.’ ‘What’s her name?’ Ron fished in his pocket for the small card. He handed it to Leo. ‘Thanks Ron. Oh, and is there any way we can stop Zoey posting to the site?’ ‘Realistically? No, Sir.’ ‘Okay, thanks Ron.’ Taking the card into his assistant’s office, Leo said: ‘Margaret, get hold of this woman. I need to meet with her. Today.’ ************** 'Hi. I'm Sarah Bennett. I have an appointment with Leo McGarry.' Margaret looked up. 'Hi. He'll be out in just a second. Please, have a seat.' Leo came out of his office then, still discussing the drugs policy with Toby. He stopped abruptly. He wasn’t about to discuss a major policy shift in front of a stranger. ‘Thanks Toby.’ Margaret turned in her seat. 'Leo, this is Sarah Bennett.' If possible, Leo McGarry looked even angrier than he had sounded when we spoke on the phone earlier. 'Come in.' I sit in the chair opposite his desk but he deliberately crosses the room, sitting in the armchair so I have to get up and walk to the couch. Trying not to let me feelings show on my face, I sit down, putting my briefcase at my feet. 'Take Zoey’s stuff off your site. Today.' I have to laugh. From the look on his face, this is a man who is used to getting what he wants. Well, he's not getting this. 'No.' ‘You own the site, right?’ ‘I’m the webmistress.’ ‘The what?!’ I’ve learned some jargon today, but that word is new. I have to work really hard not to laugh. ‘The site owner, Mr McGarry.’ 'I'll have the site closed down.' 'Try.' 'Is that a threat?' I shake my head, just so he's clear. 'No, Mr McGarry, any more than your last comment was. You and I both know I've done nothing wrong, and not even using the White House is going to get my site closed down. Try, and I'll have you in court. You are familiar with the concept of freedom of speech, are you not? I imagine, even when you studied for yours, that was part of the law degree syllabus. 'You wouldn't stand a chance.' He seems surprised at my knowledge of his background, which annoys me. But determined to get his way, which annoys me more. 'I think this meeting is over.' Getting up, I leave him sitting in his armchair as I walk out. **************** 'How the Hell did you get my home address?' Leo looked up, smiling in what he hoped was a disarming manner. The woman definitely needed disarming. She looked like she was about to kill him. He was half-tempted to call an agent and have her thrown out. But he didn't want a story on the website 'Being thrown out of The White House - my personal experience by Sarah Bennett’, so he simply kept smiling. 'Wanna sit down?' 'No I bloody don't!' Leo had to smile at the English-accented anger. It reminded him of Marbury in full flow, and, too late, he realised Ms Bennett had misinterpreted his smile. 'You may think it's clever to use whatever you used to get my address. I didn't give it to you for a reason.' 'Which was?' 'I didn't want you to have it. Who the Hell do you think you are?' 'I'm the White House Chief Of Staff. And Zoey’s godfather.' 'And?' I don't understand. 'And what?' 'Why do you think that gives you the right to trample over people's right to privacy?' 'I'd say you lost that right when you published Zoey’s stories.' 'Those 'stories' as you call them in no way violate anyone's privacy. They're just harmless fun.' His voice is tired, strained. 'Then take them off your site.' Mine is neither. Just sharp. 'No.' We both sigh. We've done this. And, as before, I get up. 'Leave me and my website alone, Mr McGarry. I don’t care who you are, who she is, or what you think of what she does in her own time. It isn’t illegal. It isn’t doing any harm. And you should think yourself lucky I don’t show you some of the websites about you. Not your fictional counterpart. You. Leo McGarry, White House of Chief of Staff to the Bartlet administration. Admittedly, most of the contributors are almost certainly women. They either want to mother you or make love you. Some of them want to do both. But some sites are run by men.' I have to smile at his horrified reaction. ‘Dial up your Internet connection.’ I wait while the PC on his desk connects to the ISP and then I connect to a search engine. He stands at my side as I type in a few search terms and click on the ‘Search’ button. Moments later, I stand back as we both stare at a screen full of results. And there are more. He can see the ‘Page 1 of 12’ caption. ‘And there are others which have some of the staff from the TV series in, shall we say, interesting relationship pairings.’ He frowns. ‘Does that mean what I think it means?’ I clear the search and type in another one. As the screen fills, he points at one of the entries. ‘What is ‘slashfic’?’ ‘Are you sure you want to know?’ ‘Those guys are the deputy chief of staff and the deputy communications director. Yeah, I wanna know.’ I decide not to ask why he’s obviously familiar with the characters from the TV show. ‘It’s, um, well, they are a couple.’ ‘Gay stuff?!’ ‘Well, some of it. Some is just friendship ‘stuff’.’ ‘Is there that kind of thing on your site?’ ‘No. Mine doesn’t host R or NC-17 rated fic.’ He can guess what that is, and doesn’t ask. ‘What the Hell am I gonna tell the President?’ ‘That his daughter could have a promising career as a writer if she chose to pursue it.’ ‘You’re a critic?’ ‘No Mr McGarry, I’m a writer. But I’ve read enough to know good ‘stuff’ when I see it.’ If he realises I’m teasing him, he doesn’t comment. ‘Why the Hell did this have to happen now?’ ‘I don’t understand.’ ‘The President’s on an official visit. Hoynes is…’ ‘John Hoynes?. The Vice-President?’ ‘Yeah.’ He looks at me. ‘Who do people put the other him with?’ ‘The fictional you. And the man in Mr Lyman’s job. Oh, and the Chief of Staff and the President have several sites.’ He drops onto the couch, his head in his hands. ‘Here.’ ‘Thanks.’ He takes the mug I’ve just filled from me without looking up. ‘Oh, thank you for the flowers. They were lovely.’ I don’t even think he’ll have noticed I’ve gone. ‘Margaret!’ His assistant appeared in the doorway between their offices. ‘Leo?’ ‘Know anything about the Internet?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘How do I get back to something I just looked at?’ ‘Click the ‘history’ tab.’ Leo found the button and clicked it. Almost instantly, a list of the sites Sarah Bennett had showed him came on the screen. ‘OK, thanks. I want to see all the Senior Staff together. Today. Soon. And Babish.’ Margaret frowned, wondering what the meeting would be about, but knowing better than to ask. ‘Okay.’ ************** Of all the senior staff, only CJ seemed amused by what Leo was showing them. Josh seemed angriest. Sam was just listening quietly. Toby didn’t seem to care. Until Leo showed him the slashfic which paired his character with the man who played Sam’s fictional counterpart. Or Josh’s. Or both. Then his anger surfaced. ‘Aren’t there laws against this kind of thing? I mean, it’s obvious it’s about us.’ None of them had heard Oliver Babish enter the room. His voice startled all of them. ‘No, it’s not. It’s about a TV show. And it’s kind of a grey area. It’s obvious that experts have written some of the disclaimers. And some very talented writers have penned some of the fic.’ Leo scowled. ‘Oliver, there must be something we can do.’ Babish had just come back from a rather nice lunch with a few friends. ‘You could always start your own site. Oh no, that’s right, you already have one.’ The people around him held their breath as Leo formulated his reply. ‘Oliver, fix this. Today!’ ‘Leo…’ ‘I don’t care how. Just do it!’ Babish decided he was wasting time arguing with Leo and left abruptly. Leo was furious, and barked: ‘Everyone get back to work. And for God’s sake don’t do anything tonight which we’re gonna be reading about on the Internet tomorrow!’ To be continued… On to Part Two Home Send me feedback on this fic Return to the X-Files Fic Index Return to the West Wing Fic Index