Title: Sexual Politics – Part One ‘Sir, something’s come up and, frankly, it’s got me as hot as a pistol.’ ‘Sam.’ I hear Josh’s soft voice behind me. So it’s midnight. So the President’s in bed. So Leo is looking at me crossly. Steve Onorato was mean to me. And I want the President to know. But I guess it can wait. I can bear a grudge until the morning. And beyond, if necessary. **************** ‘Sam!’ Wait up.’ Josh’s voice behind me makes me stop and turn. ‘Sam?’ Can he see me clearly in the dim light? I hope not. ‘Sammy…’ Apparently, he can. And he only ever calls me ‘Sammy’ when he’s concerned about me. ‘He made fun of one of my speeches.’ ‘Which one?’ ‘Girl Scouts. Volunteerism. It was a great speech, and Onorato made fun of it.’ ‘That was a good speech Sam.’ ‘I know.’ ‘He’ll go away. When he realises you won’t get into drugs and FEC, he’ll go away.’ ‘I hate him!’ Even I’m surprised by the evil in my voice, and, apparently so is Josh, judging by his reaction.’ ‘Attaboy. Now all you need is a little Onorato doll to stick pins in, and you’re half-way there.’ ‘Only half-way?’ ‘Yeah. To do it properly, you also have to get drunk and cause him physical pain.’ I can feel myself smiling. When he tries, Josh can be a good friend. To anyone who needs him. ‘I can get drunk.’ ‘Okay.’ ‘Not sure I wanna hit him though?’ ‘Why not?’ ‘You’re right, I can do that too.’ **************** It’s a good thing tomorrow is Saturday and we can go in a little later, not bothering too much about what we look like. We are drunk. I mean, really, really drunk. Well, Sam is. I’m only on my first beer. One of us has to stay clear-headed enough to get home. And Sam’s had a tough day. ‘Why does he hate me?’ I’m not really concentrating on Sam’s slurred ramblings, and I have to ask: ‘Who?’ ‘Onorato.’ ‘He doesn’t hate you Sam. He just tried to use you to get what he wants. Well, what his boss wants.’ ‘Does Toby hate me?’ ‘No Sammy, Toby doesn’t hate you.’ ‘He used the phrase ‘indo…’ Sam’s voice tails off. In his state of inebriation, two such complicated words are beyond him. ‘Indolent simplicity?’ ‘Yeah. That was not nice.’ I almost wish I hadn’t supplied the missing words. Sam looks devastated. Hair all mussed, beer drips on his white shirt, his tie coming undone. And hurt in his eyes. Blue eyes. I never noticed Sam’s eyes before. Josh’s place is nearest and we already agreed I could crash there. I can’t drive like this, and my place is too far to walk without Josh holding me up. I can’t help it. As I watch Josh trying to get the key in the lock, and fail miserably, several times, I laugh. Actually, I giggle. I know from experience that Josh screams in a very girly way. And for the first time, I’ve noticed that I giggle in a completely feminine manner. This is worrying. ‘Josh. Do I sound like a girl?’ Josh stops trying to fit his key in the lock and turns round. ‘Er, what..?’ ‘Just then, did you think I sounded like a woman?’ He stares at me for a few seconds, blinking slowly. ‘When?’ ‘Never mind.’ Turning back, he at last manages to make the door open. I have the better deal. The couch is nearer the door we stagger through than the bed. I drop onto it and watch him walk, unsteadily, towards the bedroom. ‘Er, night Sam. And, hey, don’t worry about Onorato and Laurie. Toby and I’ll take care of you.’ I think he means ‘it’ or ‘them’, but I don’t contradict him. Getting into an argument over word use with Josh, particularly Josh after two beers is, I know from experience, a waste of time. And the idea of two of the White House senior staff looking out for me is nice. ‘You want one pillow or two?’ ‘Er, two.’ ‘Okay.’ There are a few muffled curses as Josh tries to carry a quilt, two pillows, and something else into the living room. I’m not sure I can help much, but I pick up the pillows he’s dropped and carry them to the couch. ‘I brought this too.’ I smile at the washed-out grey t-shirt. It has several holes. I poke my finger through one of them. ‘How old is this?’ Josh tries to think back. ‘Why?’ I wiggle my finger which is poking through the hole in the fabric. ‘Oh, freshman year, I think.’ ‘Okay.’ ******************** The sound of the shower, and Josh making noise in the bathroom, wakes me. My head feels heavy, and there’s a dull ache in every part of my body. On the coffee table are a glass of water, two aspirins and a mug of coffee. The coffee’s still hot, so I decide to start with that, hoping it will help. I get up carefully, in stages. Legs off the couch. Okay. Head up. Okay if I do it slowly. Sit up. Okay if the room really is spinning. Stand up. Okay if I hold onto the couch. ‘Morning.’ Josh’s voice is loud. Very loud. He’s walking out of the bathroom, blue towelling gown darkening where he is wet from the shower. ‘Morning.’ ‘If you wanna hop in the shower, there’s plenty of hot water.’ ‘Er, I don’t have anything to change into.’ ‘I could lend you some stuff.’ ‘Okay. Thanks.’ He goes into the bedroom and emerges after a few minutes carrying a couple of towels and a faded sweatshirt and black jeans. ‘Thanks.’ ‘No problem. You want breakfast?’ ‘Do we have time?’ He looks at his watch. ‘Yeah. Toast and juice?’ ‘Great.’ **************** ‘Sam, I’m outta bread. I’m just gonna go across the street, okay?’ ‘Okay.’ I walk back into the apartment, and, I’m a little surprised by the clouds of condensation coming from the bathroom. ‘Er, Sam, you have to close the door or everything gets damp.’ I walk across and hear his voice, quiet over the sound of the running water. ‘Sorry. Habit. You want me to…’ ‘S’okay. I got it.’ I reach to pull it closed, and then realise that I can see Sam’s outline, blurred by the not-quite translucent shower curtain. Shocked at myself, I pull the door firmly closed. Thankfully, Sam was facing the tiles, not the door. *************** Sam emerges from the bedroom, wearing my sweatshirt and jeans. ‘How you feeling?’ ‘How do I look?’ I smile. ‘Sammy, for a guy who must’ve put away a whole crate of beer last night, you look great.’ Boy, was that the wrong thing to say. I meant not hungover, normal, okay, but I said ‘great’. He doesn’t seem to notice. ‘Just make sure you don’t upset anyone today. I need quiet.’ I laugh. ‘Okay.’ *************** ‘Sam, got a minute?’ Leo is standing in his office doorway and jerks his head at me as I walk into the West Wing. ‘Er, sure.’ Leo points at the couch. ‘Siddown.’ ‘Sam, Toby told me what happened with Onorato.’ ‘Oh.’ ‘You had a one-night stand with a call-girl.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And somehow Onorato found out.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Ever seen her again?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Don’t.’ ‘Okay.’ Leo gets up from the edge of his desk and comes towards me. ‘Sam. You can’t date a prostitute.’ I feel myself flinch as Leo uses that word. ‘No.’ ‘Call her, write to her, do whatever you have to do to end it. But do it. Without going near her.’ ‘Okay.’ ‘If you don’t, and this comes out, you’ll have to resign. And if the President finds out, he’ll fire you.’ ‘He doesn’t know?’ I’m amazed. Leo stares at me. ‘I know. Now get back to work. And I don’t wanna know why you’re wearing Josh’s sweatshirt.’ I can’t think of anything remotely sensible to say, so I just leave. At least he didn’t shout. *************** ‘Toby told Leo. About Laurie.’ Josh nods as we eat lunch at his desk. ‘I know.’ ‘How?’ ‘Cos I asked him to. What did Leo say?’ ‘Why would you do that?’ I’m on the verge of being angry. ‘Because he’d have found out anyway, and this way you at least didn’t get fired.’ ‘Am I gonna?’ I can’t help the note of uncertainty in my voice. Josh smiles. ‘Nah. Onorato’s blowing smoke. It’ll be old news in a week.’ ‘A week is a long time in politics Josh.’ This time we both smile. Note to self: Josh is a colleague, nothing more. Seeing me naked in the shower is not going to make him jump me in the men’s room. I mean, he’s dated plenty of women. He just happens to have a nice smile. ‘You want dessert?’ ‘What is there?’ ‘Apple pie.’ ‘Okay. I’m buying. Least I can do after you got me drunk last night.’ ‘And let you crash on my couch.’ Yeah, except in my dream, it wasn’t the couch you woke up on. Please don’t let’s go there. ‘Leo asked me why I was wearing your clothes.’ Okay, the bad voices in my head won, and we’re headed there. ‘What did you say?’ ‘Well, he didn’t ask, exactly. But he noticed.’ And I was pleased. No idea why. ‘So? It’s no big deal, Sam.’ Maybe not for you…‘I know. I’m just…’ ‘Being over-sensitive.’ I see his teasing smile. ‘Yeah.’ Note to self: Write out one hundred times. Josh is just a friend. Josh is… Not good, only managing one line. How about: Josh only cares about my well-being. That’s better. I can manage that. ‘Sammy? You okay?’ Snapping out of my thoughts, I force a smile. ‘Yeah. So apple pie?’ *************** Click here to go to Part Two Home Send me feedback on this fic Return to the X-Files Fic Index Return to the West Wing Fic Index