"Edmonds isn't a scientist," Josh replied. "He's a political appointee who wants to hold on to his job."

Santos nodded. "Point taken. However, none of this information seems conclusive enough to merit evacuating the Mount St. Helens area. Why are you giving so much credence to what Kaplan told you?"

"Several reasons." Josh cleared his throat. "The most important one is Dr. Kaplan's expertise. Almost everyone I've talked to—even the people who disagree with him—concede that Hubert Kaplan knows more about Mount St. Helens than anyone else in his field."

"And the other reasons?" Something else was going on here, Santos thought. His chief of staff wasn't an alarmist. In fact, the President would have bet that Josh normally would have advised him to keep an eye on the situation but not rush into any action which might cause the public to panic.

"We're talking about a situation where thousands of people could die. I don't think we should take a chance that the problem will just go away."

The President nodded. "But on the other hand, we don't want to waste millions of dollars because one man misread some data."

"No, sir." Josh's clipped tone of voice indicated to Santos that Josh disagreed with the President's reading of the situation. "But from what I understand, there have been earthquakes in the area in the past three days than there were in 1980. And I've got two more experts telling me that there's magma pushing against the surface."

"What do the other experts say?"

"That's it's gas," Josh conceded, "and nothing to be concerned about. Yet. They do advise keeping a close watch on the area, however."

Santos shook his head. "Josh, I can't reach this decision based merely on the summaries of what you've been told. I need more information. Bring in Edmonds and these experts of yours. I need to talk to them directly before I take any action."

Josh stood silently for several seconds, as though he was debating whether to say something else. Finally, he said, "Sir, it's my duty as Chief of Staff to advise you. And the best advice I can give you right now is to listen to Hubert Kaplan. I have good reason for placing my confidence in him."

As Josh left the room, Santos wondered what there was about this situation, and Dr. Hubert Kaplan, that Josh wasn't telling him.

CUT TO:
INT. LOU'S OFFICE.

She hadn't been here in months.

With her new job as press secretary to Helen Santos, Annabeth rarely had reason to visit the West Wing. She preferred it that way. The Communications Offices especially held more memories than she wanted to deal with. Too many people she had come to care about when she worked here were gone; she thought about them—about one, in particular—too often as it was.

Annabeth hardly had time to take in the changes to the area, however, before Lou waved her into the Communications Director's office.

Annabeth took a seat on the couch she still thought of as Toby's and waited as Lou closed the door.

"Where's Donna? I needed to talk to you both." Hearing the annoyance in Lou's voice, Annabeth
couldn't help smiling. Maybe there was something about the atmosphere in this office; Lou sounded almost as cranky as Toby.

"Donna was in a meeting with the First Lady," Annabeth explained. "I told her assistant not to call her out of it."

Lou frowned but didn't argue the point. Sitting back down at her desk, she told Annabeth, "We have a problem. You stole our issue."

"I'm sorry." Annabeth looked confused. "What do you mean *your* issue?"

"We had plans," Lou said. "Lester and I spent the morning working on how best to spin the FDA announcement to the administration's advantage. You didn't ask us for permission to take this on, and now we're all screwed."

"I wasn't aware we had to run this sort of thing by you, Lou."

"The West Wing controls the message of this administration, and it starts in my office," Lou replied. "You can't just decide that you want the First Lady to take on some issue without clearing it with us first."

Annabeth's brow creased as she sought a way to defend her position without offending Lou. "Donna and I weren't the ones who made that decision. Mrs. Santos picked that issue, and we work for her."

"Since when does Helen Santos take on policy issues?" Lou scoffed.
 
"It took a while for her to adjust," Annabeth admitted, "but she's decided to use her influence on more important issues than planning Easter egg hunts on the White House law. And she has a talented staff who can help her execute those ideas. What's wrong with that?"

"Theoretically, there's nothing wrong with it," Lou conceded. "Hell, I like that she's taking a more active role. We just need to know about these things first. We were just lucky this time. If I hadn't told Lester to cover the FDA announcement in the afternoon, we would have looked like idiots."

The wheels started turning in Annabeth's head. "You wanted to use the announcement to control the news cycle, didn't you?"

Lou nodded. "Of course I did. I'm Communications Director for the Titanic, and we're taking on water fast."

Annabeth's forehead crinkled as she tried to work out the metaphor. "Does that make us the iceberg?"
 
Lou frowned. "More like you're the captain on the other ship who ignores our distress signal. Or something. And someone in the West Wing should have been told you were planning this."

"Josh knew about it weeks ago. So did President Santos."

"The boyfriend and the husband." Lou shook her head. "Apparently, neither of them took it seriously enough to pass the word on to the staff."

Annabeth smiled as she headed for the door. "That's something you have to take up with them."

"Where are you going?" Lou asked.

"Back to the..." Annabeth paused. "I have no idea what the name of the ship was that rescued the Titanic passengers."

"Oh, for God's sake, Annabeth, forget about the damn Titanic. Just tell Donna that I need to know before she lets the First Lady get in front of the cameras with hot topic issues like this."

"You're welcome to tell her yourself, Lou. Call her assistant, and I'm sure she'd be happy to arrange a
meeting between you and the First Lady's Chief of Staff." Her sense of humor resurfacing, Annabeth added, "In the meantime, I'm sure your heart will go on."


CUT TO:
INT. JOSH'S OFFICE

"Lou has a crush on Leonardo diCaprio. Pass the fries."

From his seat on the sofa, Josh stared at Donna in surprise. "Are you kidding?"

"No," Donna replied. She leaned back in her chair and grinned. "I really want those fries."

He pushed the package of fries across the coffee table. "Lou and Leonardo diCaprio? That sounds so
wrong on so many levels."

Donna shrugged. "I'm being mean-spirited and petty. Ignore me."

"Is this one of those things I'm supposed to respond to as your boyfriend, or are we talking as two Chiefs of Staff here?"

"Forget it," Donna said. "I am not going to run to my boyfriend every time I disagree with someone on this side of the building. And it's nothing major. Just a minor communication problem."

"That's ironic."

"What's ironic?"

"You having communication problems with Lou," Josh answered. "Since she's Communications Director." He leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, Donna was clearing the leftovers off the table. "You fell asleep," she told him.

"How long?"

"Ten minutes." She joined him on the sofa, kicking off her shoes. "And you didn't eat much either. What's bothering you?"

"Many things."

Donna scooted closer to him, her arm going around his shoulder. "Are these things you can talk about, or is it something classified?"

"It's..." His voice trailed off as he tried to figure out a way to discuss what had been bothering him since this morning's phone call. Finally, he asked, "Do you ever miss Toby?"

"Every day," Donna replied solemnly.

"He's such a self-righteous jerk sometimes. I swear it's like he enjoys being miserable." Josh laughed bitterly. "Maybe that's why he did it—just so he could play the martyr. I can't think of any other reason that makes sense."

"You'll drive yourself crazy if you try to figure it all out," Donna said. "I've gone over it a hundred times, and I can't make sense of it."

"Maybe he got the information from his brother. David was an astronaut; he might have known."

"Maybe," Donna said. "I doubt we'll ever know for sure." She stared at Josh for a moment. "Why are you thinking about this now?

He stood up, distancing himself from Donna and stared out the window. "I'm Chief of Staff." He knew it sounded as though he was changing the subject, but he also knew that Donna understood that sometimes he needed to get to an issue in a roundabout manner.

"Yes, you are."

"And Toby, even though he was pardoned, is guilty of leaking state secrets."

He heard Donna get up from the sofa. In a minute, she was standing behind him. She snaked her arm around his waist and leaned her head against his.

"Toby would be the first to understand," she said. "If you can't be friends with him, he won't hold it against you."

"But I'll hold it against myself." He turned to face Donna. "Toby's like a brother to me. How do I just turn my back on him?"

"I doubt that anyone who knows you, *really* knows you, thinks you can." She smiled. "So tell me, when was the last time you talked to Bob?"

He groaned. "Not you too."

"Yes, I'm afraid I've cracked your secret code."

"How?"

"I'm the one who told him about Leo."

He put his arms around her. "I should have done that."

"You had enough to deal with," she said as she hugged him. "And I couldn't bear to think of Toby learning about it on the news."

Letting go of Donna, he leaned against the window. "So what should I do? Should I tell the President that I'm still in contact with Toby or not?"

Just as Donna was about to reply, the door between Josh's office and the Oval Office opened.

"Tell me you're not basing your recommendations to me on information you got through Toby Ziegler," Matt Santos said.

CUT TO:
INT. DENVER INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

Sam was surprised how much he was enjoying the trip. Not only had they gotten a fair amount of work done during the flight, he'd actually enjoyed sharing Ainsley's junk-food stash. And, of course, he enjoyed spending time with Ainsley—just two old friends reconnecting.

That was all it was, really, he thought as he watched Ainsley wander through the food court.

But then she noticed him watching her. He could have sworn that the smile she gave him and the way she waved at him was, well, flirtatious.

It was a ridiculous idea, of course. He was engaged. Ainsley knew he was engaged; and Ainsley, he knew, was far too principled to even think about getting involved with an almost-married man.

"I'm imagining things," he muttered to himself.

Still, for some reason, he felt guilty. He took out his cell phone and called Lauren. Once again, he got
her voicemail.

"Hi there," he said. "Guess you're still in court. I'll call you back when we get into Walla Walla. Did I mention that Ainsley Hayes is here? I've mentioned Ainsley before, right? The Republican lawyer who worked for Oliver Babish? Anyway, she's back in the West Wing." He paused, wondering whether his confession—and why did he think of it as a confession, anyway?—was helping or hurting. "So we're in Denver, and I miss you. Talk to you soon."

He spent several minutes staring at Ainsley before he realized that he'd neglected to add "I love you" in his message to Lauren.

CUT TO:
INT. JOSH'S OFFICE

"I apologize, Donna," Matt Santos said. "I didn't realize you were here."

"Should I stay, sir?" she asked. "Because, if the subject is Toby, I—"

Josh realized he needed to cut her off before she ended up jeopardizing her own career. "I think you'd better leave," he told her.

He could tell by the way she pursed her lips that she disagreed, but she didn't argue. Instead, she
squeezed his hand once for moral support and said goodbye.

The President waited until Donna left the room before he started the interrogation.

"Did you think I wouldn't ask a few questions about Hubert Kaplan's background?" Santos asked. "And that I wouldn't find out he's a friend of Toby Ziegler's?"

"I didn't think it was relevant," Josh said. "The issue is what you think of Dr. Kaplan's findings, not who he roomed with in college."

Matt Santos leaned against Josh's desk and folded his arms. "Can you honestly tell me you would take Kaplan's warnings so seriously if your old friend hadn't recommended him?"

Josh pondered the question for a moment, then replied. "No, sir, I can't tell you that. I don't know. But I do know that you'd be wrong to dismiss Dr. Kaplan simply because he knows Toby Ziegler."

"We have a serious problem here, Josh," Santos replied. He crossed the room, closing the distance between himself and his senior counselor. "In fact, we have two serious problems. There's the immediate question of whether to evacuate the area surrounding Mount St. Helens. Then there's the long-term question of whether I can trust a Chief of Staff who lies to me."

Josh had lost his temper with another President years ago. It was not an experience he wanted to repeat. He took a deep breath and reminded himself to stay calm. "Due respect, sir," he said, "I have never lied to you."

"You certainly neglected to give me the full story," Santos replied. "A lie of omission, at the very least. I need a Chief of Staff I can trust."

So there it was, Josh thought. Everything he'd worked for—his chance to follow in Leo's footsteps, going just like that. "Are you asking for my resignation, sir?"

The two men stared at each other for several moments. Finally, the President said, "No, I don't want to do that. Not just because you got me here, but because you're the best person for this job. But Toby Ziegler—" He shook his head in disbelief. "You're too politically savvy, Josh. The man is radioactive, pardon or no pardon. What the hell were you thinking?"

"That he's my friend," Josh said. "That there were times when it would have been politically expedient
for Toby to distance himself from me, but he never did."

"I admire your loyalty, but I doubt that you ever leaked state secrets to the New York Times."

"If I had," Josh answered with a smile, "Toby would have kicked my ass. But he would never have deserted me."

Santos sat down, clasping his hands together in a gesture that suddenly reminded Josh of President
Bartlet.

"Under no circumstances are you to ever discuss anything that happens in this building with Toby
Ziegler," Santos finally said. "If I even suspect that's happening, you're out of here. You can pass
that message on to Sam Seaborn, to Donna, to anyone here who knows Ziegler."

"Yes, sir."

"Other than that, the government has no right to tell you how to pick your friends. Although I would prefer it if your friendship didn't become public knowledge, at least until Baker is confirmed." With that, the President stood up and headed for the Oval Office. "By the way," he added, "if I find out you've been keeping any other information from me, you'll be out of this building in record time."

"I understand," Josh said. "But that still leaves us with the question of what to do about the situation at Mount St. Helens."

After a moment's pause, Santos said, "Based on everything I've heard today, I believe our best policy
is to monitor the situation for another week. We'll look at the data and monitor the situation closely over the next week."

"I believe that's a mistake."

"Well, in that case," Santos replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "you won't have been the only person to have made a major mistake today, will you?"

FADE TO BLACK