| TITLE: One Last Chocolate Chip Cookie AUTHOR: Kasey RATING: PG SUMMARY: Post-ep to “18th and Potomac”. NOTES: This could be from the point of view of Toby, Sam, Josh, or CJ. I wrote it with Sam in mind, but it really works for any of them. DISCLAIMERS: They don’t belong to me. If they did, what happened last night wouldn’t have happened…Sorkin on Shrooms. THANKS: To my betas. My God. How could this have happened? We went to get food before the lock-down, and when we all got back at 9…Leo gathered us all in his office, but instead of leading us to the residence, he opened the door to the Oval Office and signaled the President, who came in and sat on Leo’s couch, looking as though he’d fall over if he didn’t sit…And then broke the news. Gone was the harsh shell of Leo we were all used to. When he told us, his voice was gentle and soothing, like the voice you would use to tell your daughter that her hamster died. And then we all got up and left to go to the residence for the lock-down. But not I – I leave last and do something I never do. I cut through the Oval Office. Only the president or Leo ever do that, but I do it anyway. I think it’s because I want to make sure Leo isn’t playing an April Fool’s Day joke on us a month late, that she’s not just sitting at her desk while we panic for no reason. Or maybe to make sure no one’s taken over her desk already. The office on the other side of the Oval is dead silent – everything is. Margaret, Nancy, Bonnie, and Ginger are all sitting on the edge of Charlie’s desk, their backs toward me. As they hear the Oval Office door open, they turn in unison to make sure they don’t need to stand up. No one says anything – we all know. We all know we all know. Charlie sits in his desk chair, just staring at his phone as though it’s Hellsent. And maybe it is. Who could tell what’s us and what’s not anymore? What’s our fault and what isn’t? What we could have prevented and what’s…? No one wants to think about that one. “Where is everyone?” I finally ask the four assistants as I walk across the room to face them better. They look like the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse or something. Nancy looks ready to cry, and Margaret has an arm around Nancy’s shoulder. The two of them aren’t close, but hugs seem to feel appropriate right now. In the time of turmoil, we must cling to what remains. “Donna and Cathy are at Donna’s desk,” Margaret says when she finally speaks. “Carol, Larry, and Ed are somewhere nearby. I know I should know where Senior Staff is, but, well…you guys take care of each other well enough.” And suddenly it strikes me as funny that even now – especially now – there’s a pecking order among us. The president, first lady, and Leo; Then us, the Senior Staff; Then the “staff aides”; Then the miscellaneous aides. And I’d be willing to bet that somewhere, in a bullpen, at a desk, huddled around with cups of coffee and tea in hand, are a bunch of people whose names I can’t remember. And some of the women are crying, and some of the men trying to act tough; but it’s a universal reaction – not just for miscellaneous aides or Senior Staff, but for all of us. For each and every one of us who knew Mrs. Delores Landingham and will miss her. My eyes drift to Mrs. Landingham’s desk. It looks completely normal – why wouldn’t it? I find myself wondering whose desk it’ll be now. Probably Nancy’s or Margaret’s, except Margaret’s too loyal to Leo to leave him. Or maybe someone new. “The cookie jar’s not as full as usual,” I murmur. “It’s only half-full.” Margaret smiled sheepishly. “We each nibbled on one.” She seems to be the spokesman tonight. I consider this, and Margaret urges, “Go ahead and eat one. They taste just as good as always.” It seems almost sacreligious to touch things – we always had to ask permission. But slowly and carefully I remove the lid and extract one cookie. Taking a small bite, I realize Margaret was right. They ARE just as good as always, which is ironic in some way I can’t identify. And in my mind, I register that chocolate chip cookies will always remind me of her. Better stock up. |