Josh set full swing to his plan of outing Rochester.  The first thing he planned to do was to leak his comments about the First Couple.  However, to his utter dismay, that plan was ousted just as quick.  He was the last one to know why.  He was a smart man and it didn't take Donna for him to realize that no matter how ill-said a comment is, you don't repeat it if it bears any truth.

He didn't have a chance to bring it up with Jed, because a cyclone swept through South Asia like a drive-by and left thousands injured, dead, and homeless.  Suddenly, Rochester didn't matter.  This was what the day was about now.

The White House was buzzing as everyone found that one person to make their jobs a dozen times harder than they had ever been.  They'd been here a year and they were all set and ready to quit the House.  Donna was trying to get to the director of the American Red Cross, but they weren't taking Josh's calls.  Something about being too busy feeding the church mice.  She gave it one more 'what the hell?' before hanging up in a huff.  She'd been as cordial as she could possibly be.  They weren't budging.

She came in to find her boss talking professionally, almost kindly, to someone on the phone.  He gave her thumbs up to let her know that he was getting somewhere with someone.  Thank God, a first.  He hung up and pumped his fist in the air in triumph to his silent audience.  She gave him a look that told him what to do with his triumph and killed his mood.

"You got the director of the Red Cross for me?"

"Do I look like I got her?"

"Not so much as a lot of built-up frustration.  She still not taking my calls?"

"Her secretary isn't even acknowledging your existence."

"Okay, I got UNICEF on board and they're heading over to help out."

"Good, but the Red Cross--"

"Forget 'em.  I'm gonna get Jay on their ass.  Do not pass go; do not screw with Josh Lyman.  Go straight to the top.  They may not answer to me, but no one ignores Jed Bartlet's call."

They trekked through the chaos of the West Wing to Jed's outer office.  Charlie looked harried as he haggled with someone on the phone.

"Look, it's your job.  Try doing it for a second.  I know it's a foreign concept, but seriously try it."  He paused as someone answered angrily from the other end.  "The White House Chief of Staff appreciates your cooperation.  Thank you and have a nice day."  He hung up the phone.  "Lazy-ass bastard."

"Don't tell me, Red Cross?"

"How'd you know?"

"They just got Donna in an ugly place that I'd rather not revisit.  You look like you're headed there.  What excuse did they give you?"

"They only deal with the President."

"Are you--We really need to get those people in here.  They need to understand that when there's an emergency, they are dutifully bound to respond.  They don't choose who they deal with.  They go when and where they're told.  What is it with beauracracy?  It drives me crazy."

"Which is why we have democracy," Jed declared as he appeared from behind his office door.

"Democracy breeds beauracracy."

"Yes, and that's where we run headfirst into brick walls."

"You said it."

"Charlie, have we got Red Cross on board?"

"Grudgingly, sir."

"That'll do.  Josh, Donna, what about UNICEF?"

"They're with it."

"Thank God.  Now, can we please, for the love of God, get the World Bank in line?  I mean, who the hell do they think they work for?"

"Republicans, they're all Republicans."

"Now, Donna, let's play fair."  He sat on the edge of Charlie's desk.  "Not all hateful sons of bitches are Republicans.  The majority of them yes, but not all."

"The director's a she."

"Okay, well, I'm sure you all know what I'm thinking then."  Jed checked his watch.  "Charlie, don't I have a security briefing with the President right about now?"

"Yes, sir and lunch with the First Lady at 12:30."

He snapped his fingers.  "Right."  He rolled his sleeves down and straightened his tie.  "Josh, take care of this.  If you run into any more trouble send them to me.  This isn't a game anymore.  It's time to handle this like the public servants we are.  People are dying on the other side of the world and I'm sick of self-important, power-dangling jackasses who think we're fucking around -- Excuse me, Donna. --Take off the kid gloves."  He disappeared back into his office.

"I am out of the box!  Yes."

"You were in the box?"

"Go do a job."

"I'm babysitting."  She hooked her fingers tightly around his belt loops to prove her point.

"You're being condescending."

"Yes."  Why lie?

Charlie called the First Lady's office to confirm the appointment.  He looked up and saw Josh and Donna waiting uselessly.  "Can I help you?"

"There's nothing to do."

"Nothing?"

"Not a thing."

"So you took Rochester to the shed?"

"No.  I got a little distracted with the thing...you know."

Charlie just looked at him.  "Yeah.  I have to make this call now."

"Right.  Let's go, Donna."  She was already leaving the office.  On the return trip, they ran into an agitated Toby and Sam.  "What's up, guys?"

"That Rochester thing is back and then, some."  Toby rubbed his bald head frustratedly.

"What?"

"He's saying some unfortunate things about the President in the company of friends."

"Like what?"

"I wish I could tell you, but their side is keeping it good and quiet.  They know they're in the hole once we know what was said."

"What else, you mean?"

"Yeah."  Sam ran his fingers through his hair.  "We need to talk to Jed and get him to talk to the President.  We need to know without a doubt that this guy is in the wrong before--” Josh cut him off.

"Of course, he's in the wrong.  There's no way they'd hide this from us.  They couldn't hide it.  It isn't true.  I've known the President since I was a kid.  There's no way I could not know this about him."

"Can you know someone when it comes to this?  If he'd admitted to this, he wouldn't have been elected.  It couldn't have been done.  We're not that good.  I'm not saying it's true.  Just open your mind, Josh."  They came to the Communications Bullpen.  "Don't think that this is about you, but I don't want you moping around if the Senator's right.  It'll bother me and you know how I hate to be bothered."

"You know, Toby, you never fail -- you never fail to find the worse in everyone.  That's all you ever see.  There is actual good in the world.  Some people are really good.  He's it.  He's the best of his generation, Toby.  And I thought you saw that."

Toby stopped at his door, stroking his beard thoughtfully.  "  I do.  I see...a lot.  He's the best of a lot of things, Josh.  That doesn't make him perfect."  He turned away from them and closed his door, muttering, "He's just the best of who showed up."

Toby was peering out the window overlooking the South Lawn when the door opened behind him.  "I spend everyday watching the 'Real Thing.'  He comes to work, he does his job and he goes home to his kids.  I told him when we met that I thought it should've been him, but he said he didn't want it.  He said that he had two kids that he loved and that he wouldn't put them out there like that.  He didn't want it for them.  He didn't want it for them."

"An honorable decision, don't you think?"

He continued to rub at his beard worriedly, his pen trapped between his fingers.  "Yes.  Sometimes I wonder whether it would behoove the President to borrow a little of that honor."

"You don't think that's harsh?"

"Not today."  He turned around to look at his long-time friend.  "I've had my doubts from the beginning.  He should've told us, so we could be ready for this."  He slammed his leather portfolio down angrily.  "This is the deal now.  Not the message, not our agenda.  This is the deal until he admits it or refutes it and, CJ, I don't think he can deny it in good faith."

"Then, we'll fix it."

"What if we can't?"

"We always have before."

"Exceptions always come after the rule.  The law of causality and crappy luck."

"Sounds like a good name for it."  He finally sat down and opened his notebook to a fresh page.  "I know you're pissed."  He didn't answer.  "This should've been the campaign of our careers."

"It had the right people in the wrong places."

"You still think the wrong man won?"

"I still think the wrong man ran."  They shared a cool look tempered by a mutual respect for they'd been through together.  "But, you know, that's just my opinion."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"So you heard that April's home?"

"No."

"She is."

"And the kid?"  She nodded.  "That's unexpected.  When did she show up?"

"Yesterday afternoon while Jay was still here.  She was waiting for him at home."

"Did she steal anything?"

"Toby!  She said she wants to change."

"People say that everyday, Claudia Jean.  That doesn't make them sincere."

"He wants to help her."

"Then we'll help her."

"Why do you do that?"

He perused her darkly again.  "Do what?"

"So adamantly oppose something and then do a quick 180 to support it?"

"Meaning what exactly?"

"I don't think you trust April as far as you can throw her, but you've offered her and Kelsey a place to stay what must be a dozen times.  Why do that when you don't think she's being up front?"

"Because as long as she knows we're for her and not against her, she'll keep coming back until she's ready.  Then, she'll show us since she'll know that we won't ridicule her for all the times that she wasn't prepared to change.  However, until that day comes, I just want her to know that there's more than one door open for her.  It can't be wrong to give a scared and misguided little girl the hope she intrinsically lacks."

"I don't think it's wrong.  I think you're a good man, Toby Ziegler.  You are an honorable man."

"As was Brutus."

"Yes.  As was Brutus."  She stood up and laid her hand beside his on the desktop.  "I personally see you as a little more Caligula than Brutus."

"Little boots?  CJ, what the hell--"

She grinned.  Victory was hers.  "I meant more along the line of torturing people, but that's a different conversation entirely.  So, you coming to the thing tonight?"

"At the house?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be there.  Should I bring something?"

"Just yourself and possibly Sam.  You know how he loses track of time."

"The boy needs a watch."

"He has one.  It doesn't do him any good.  If he comes too late, he'll miss the cooking part.  Once you miss that, the fun's mostly over."

"Fine, I'll bring the guy who falls asleep and wakes up twenty years later."  She raised an eyebrow inquiringly.  "You know the guy with the tree and the beard.  Look, whatever.  I'm bringing Sam.  Now, go away.  I have work to do."

"Yes, your job is to amuse me."

"You're still here."

"Just to annoy you."

"Mission accomplished.  Leave."  She rose, shrugged, and left him shaking his head with wry disbelief.  How the hell had they stayed friends so long?  It wasn't a real question.  There was no clue to what made their complex friendship work, but it did.  And Toby was nothing if not grateful for sheer dumb luck.  He was quite wary of it though.

CJ passed over to the office next door and knocked, alerting Sam that he had a visitor.  He looked up from his laptop, where ants were doing some kind of tribal dance on his keyboard.  That was fine, but there was no room for him to type with them and their little bonfire-thing going on.

"Whatcha looking at, Spanky?"

"Watching ants pray to their sugar god, I think."

She sat on the edge of his desk and looked on with interest.  "They've got a good little rhythm going there.  Your ants should do Vegas."

"They're doing quite enough damage where they are, I'd be happy if Vegas wanted them.  I don't."

"You're grumpy today."

"Not."

"So."

"Not."

"So."

"Not"

"S--"  They would have kept going on like that were it not for the pink rubber ball that was hurled at the glass window separating Sam and Toby's office with much brute force.  Once they'd achieved perfect silence, he seemed satisfied and returned to his notebook.

"Armed and dangerous," seemed a rather fitting description.

"Yeah.  And you're riding with him tonight to the house."

"Wait, why do I have to ride with Toby?"

"Because you're like the guy with the tree and the beard.  Tom Winkle or something.  He went to sleep and woke up twenty years later."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, use your watch, Spanky.  And don't miss the cooking part."

"What are we cooking tonight?"

" A veritable smorgasbord probably."

"April's gonna be there?"

"Yeah.  Kelsey, too.  Bring stuff."

"Like?"

"Surprise us.  And be on time."

"I'm always on time."  She chuckled a little.  But her chuckles turned into guffaws, and snorts.  "I am on time."

"Okay, Sam.  Just show up.  We'll take care of everything else.  I'm gonna go check on Josh."  She stood up but fell back into her seat.  She tapered down to a titter and stumbled out of the office.

"I am always on time," he told himself.

"Not," she shouted from a distance.  He rolled his eyes and squished a bug that dared skitter across his fingers.

"Damn bug."