And The World Stood Still

by:SheilaVR

Character(s): Jed & Co.
Category(s): General
Rating: TEEN
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is actually intended, but no threat of same will stop me from fantasizing about "The West Wing" anyway...
Summary: The President demonstrates that alcohol and motorcades do not mix.
Author's Note:I wrote this shortly before we heard any details about the first season finale episode. So, for all intents and purposes, humor me and pretend that "What Kind of Day Has It Been" never took place.

Reception outside the Oval Office was quiet, and vacant save for one person toiling quietly along as usual. When the door on her left opened, Mrs. Landingham stopped working and looked up, which she always did. And reminded herself just how to address the man emerging, which after her years of experience she almost *never* had to do.

For a long moment, no one appeared. Strange; the Vice-President might not like opening his own doors, but when he was alone in a room he had no alternative, in which case he usually made somewhat of a production out of it. So why this pause -

Who did finally exit was *not* the Vice-President... at least, not alone as she had thought him to be, and not even first as one would have expected the man to insist.

And to be honest, for another long moment she didn't even notice him.

After one silent heartbeat she rose to her feet, as Hoynes pushed the wheelchair across the threshold and over to her desk.

"Good afternoon, Mr. President."

As always, her voice was level and her expression reserved. But did the glint from her spectacles hide a different glint in her eyes?

"Good to see you, Mrs. Landingham," Bartlet replied in the same undemonstrative tone - for his first sentence only. This President took an almost manic delight in throwing people curveballs, and those who knew him best learned to field them regularly. "What's this I hear about you serving coffee? I couldn't believe my ears!"

Strange first words for two people who had worked so closely together for more than a year, in particular when one had spent much of the last four days fearing for the other's welfare. It spoke eloquently of their well-knit cooperation and personal professional association.

And, incidentally, it also told the Vice-President that he had abused his privilege by treating her as his private coffee-maker. But enough of that for now.

Mrs. Landingham's deadpan stability was as much of a byword throughout the White House as the President's mercurial good humor. He hadn't succeeded in catching her out yet. "That's hardly against House rules, sir."

He looked amazed and offended at the same time. "You never serve *me* coffee."

"I was just trying to make the Vice-President feel welcome." She did not neglect to give Hoynes a respectful nod before gazing silently back down at her *real* boss.

Thinking... what?

Evaluating the extent of his condition? Enjoying her superior height for a change? Hiding her discomfort at seeing him in pajamas? Masking her concern for his pale infirmity?

Whatever weakness he felt, he refused to admit. "Okay, but don't overdo it - or else when I come back to throw him out he'll want to take you with him!"

She couldn't prevent a nervous glance at the Vice-President this time; that crack might all too easily be taken for a cutting reminder of Hoynes' temporary status. But surprisingly enough, their stand-in's smile did not have the strained edge, the subtle resentment that all presidential staffers well knew. Perhaps he had decided to put aside his anti-Bartlet sentiments for awhile. Perhaps miracles did happen after all.

The Vice-President's words seemed quite sincere as well. "Don't tempt me."

The President glanced up and back as far as he could. "Don't even *think* about it. No way I can run this place without her."

Mrs. Landingham's eyebrows rose. Their formal, mutually dependent relationship rarely ever produced compliments.

Bartlet's eyes twinkled in triumph; he hadn't missed her reaction, subtle though it was. But he knew better than to allude directly to it. "So, what all is happening around here?"

Her eyes twinkled in retaliation. "Oh, I'm afraid you're not cleared for that information at this time, Mr. President."

Hoynes couldn't prevent a snicker, especially at the stunned posture of the man seated before him - apparent even from behind. Not many people dared to volley a Jed Bartlet curveball straight back where it came from; even fewer had the gumption to throw their own.

The President's mouth hung open. "I'm *not?*" He tried to make sense of that totally unexpected line. "I don't believe this, either! Whose brilliant idea was that?"

His secretary could not have looked less impressed by such a demand. "You are not yet well enough to expend your energies on national policy, sir."

Before her boss could come up with some other protest, Hoynes intervened. "All right; how about updating *me*, at least?" Which, with Bartlet sitting right there, would of course accomplish the very same thing. He could be reminded of this debt some other time.

Mrs. Landingham turned that identical expression on *him*. Imperturbable. "Oh, I'm afraid you're not cleared to it either, Mr. Vice-President."

If he'd been surprised by the President's friendly candor earlier, he was astounded by the President's secretary's calm resistance now. "You're kidding." He was the *acting* President, in full accordance with the Constitution. How could that *not* clear him?

Mrs. Landingham tipped her head a few degrees sideways, as though giving his comment careful consideration. "Not usually, sir."

This *had* to be a joke, no matter how dead serious she persisted in behaving. "Then what does it take to *get* clearance with you?"

She answered without hesitation. She always had the answer, regardless of the subject. "An oath of inauguration and a clean bill of health, I believe. Both of which neither of you currently possess."

The two men exchanged twin looks of pure disbelief.

Months of experience had still not convinced the President that he couldn't win an argument with this particular employee of his. Hope springs eternal. "Well, between the two of us we just about make up *both* of your qualifications, Mrs. Landingham, don't you think?" Not that they were really *hers* anyway.

And that was interesting: a direct reference of voluntary cooperation between the President and the *Vice*-President, virtually unheard-of ever since this administration began.

Whether the scales of decision tipped under Bartlet's thinly-disguised order, Hoynes' full endorsement, or the wonder of this executive solidarity, Mrs. Landingham appeared to yield ground - unprecedented in Oval Office memory. "You do have a point, sir. I'll see if we can't make an exception just this once." She sat down again, for the first time since her Commander-in-Chief's appearance, and reached for the appointment book.

The President sighed. She could carry the bluff further than he, primarily since he could never be quite sure she *was* bluffing. "Great - more bureaucracy." He hooked a thumb over one shoulder. "John, you'd better get back in there where it's safe."

Hoynes chuckled. "I'm going." He was glad to have an escape route from this woman's proven formidability. "Remind me never to get into a debate with you, Mrs. Landingham."

"I will, Mr. Vice-President," she promised him with a nod, perfectly businesslike. And then turned from the temporary boss to the permanent one. "Shall I call someone to attend you, Mr. President?"

"Nah, Charlie will be along eventually. No doubt he's searching high and low for his escaped prisoner right now. At least the Secret Service know how to obey without question." Bartlet grinned, settled a bit deeper into his chair, and folded his arms as best he could, splint and all. "Although it could be some time before he thinks of looking here, since this is the *last* place I'm supposed to be."

Mrs. Landingham studied him indulgently over her eyeglasses, much as a long-suffering mother might with a recalcitrant child.

"In the meantime," the President announced contentedly, "after more than a year of having the entire world watch every move *I* make, I'm going to savor this opportunity to sit back and watch *others* work for a change."

His secretary's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I won't have that, sir. There's far too much to do around here. I'll see you back to the Residence myself if I must."

He fixed those bright blue eyes on her, now icy rather than amused. "You most certainly will not."

She rose demurely. "I accept your challenge, Mr. President." And went straight to the back of his chair, and started pushing it towards the hall.

His voice rose, as it did only when he *really* meant what he said. "I'll thank you to DESIST, Mrs. Landingham!"

She didn't, unmoved by his authority or his vehemence. Effectively trapped in place and quite powerless even to stand up and dig in his heels, Bartlet twisted around as best he could, which wasn't much, and looked for his only source of aid present. "John - "

Hoynes was really smiling now. This almost beat out that earlier, positively treasonous moment in the Oval Office for the sense of sheer power he now held over his Chief Executive. And a lot less threatening for *both* of them. "Sorry, sir. I only just promised I wouldn't start a fight in this office, remember?"

That convenient excuse was not well received; those blue eyes chilled even more. "I'll have you BOTH know this is MUTINY!"

"If you say so, sir," Mrs. Landingham replied, not slowing down. "I myself would call it cooperating towards your full recovery."

"Oh, sure. Everyone in the House gang up on me when I can't defend myself." Much as he'd had to submit that morning to the dictates of his wife, the President slumped in his seat and grumbled, "It's getting so I can't go *anywhere!*" The lament of any famous face.

Watching them leave, the Vice-President shook his head and laughed quietly at the delightful interaction he'd just witnessed between two equally extraordinary people. And turned and walked back into the Oval Office - for all intents and purposes, the leader of the free world.

*****

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

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