ACT I
INT. JOSH AND DONNA'S APARTMENT

"Damn it!" Donna walked out of the bathroom already dressed in light gray slacks and a crisp white blouse that she hadn't fully buttoned.

"What's wrong?" Josh stopped shaving and glanced at her.

"I forgot to buy the turkey."

"Don't worry about it." He continued with a couple more strokes then began wiping his face with a steaming hot washcloth. "I'll send Margaret to the store later today."

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," she laughed.

"Then I'll go after work."

"By the time you leave, I'm sure they'll be sold out." She turned on the blow dryer.

Josh slipped into his navy blue slacks while watching Donna in the mirror. Every time she pulled a thick section of hair with her curling brush, her shirt gaped open wide enough for him to get a glimpse of her lace-covered breast.

As Josh buttoned his dress shirt, she noticed him staring. "What are you looking at?"

He met her eyes in the mirror. "You."

Donna smiled back at him but kept drying her hair. "You're acting awfully strange today. Was there a full moon last night?"

"I don't know. Let me pull out my Farmer's Almanac," he joked. He held two ties against his shirt.

Donna pointed to the maroon and gold one. "Speaking of the Farmer's Almanac, I read that this is the first month since January when the winter stars and Orion will be on full display."

Josh's head shot up. "Orion?"

She shut off the blow dryer. "Yeah, you know, the constellation."

"Right." He had just been thinking about Orion an hour ago. He figured Donna would think he was crazy if he admitted to spotting the constellation on her chest.

When Josh made no effort to tie his tie, Donna quickly did it for him. "We should get out of the city this weekend. See the stars."

He smiled. "That would be nice."

She patted the tie in place, then whipped around to apply a quick coat of makeup. "Have you talked to Sam about Thanksgiving?"

"I asked him twice in the last 24 hours," he replied, putting a dollop of toothpaste on his brush. "He wants to be alone."

"I know he said that, but maybe he really doesn't want to be by himself. Who wants to be alone on Thanksgiving?" She pulled out her jewelry box and began digging in the two drawers.

"Sam, apparently," Josh responded around a mouthful of toothpaste.

"Please give it one more shot."

"Okay."

She kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

CUT TO::
INT. DEPUTY CHIEF OF STAFF'S OFFICE

"Hey! I didn't expect anyone to be here this early." Bram stepped into his boss' office. "I came in to work on the..."

Sam was focused on his computer screen.

"Sam?"

He still didn't look up.

Bram took a few steps closer. "Is something wrong?"

"They made her partner," he announced, finally looking at his assistant deputy.

It took Bram a few seconds to put the pieces together. "Lauren?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. "They made her partner at the firm."

"Is that something..." Bram fidgeted with the tip of his tie. "Did you know this was coming?"

Bram didn't know much about the demise of Sam and Lauren's relationship. And what he did know, he heard through the grapevine (translation: Otto.) He tended to change the subject or hand the ball to someone else when personal matters came up. So this conversation had the potential to make him incredibly uncomfortable.

"It's something she's wanted for a long time," Sam said, looking straight past Bram. "She'll be the first female partner in the firm's history."

"Sounds like a pretty decent gig," Bram said.

Sam looked at him and a nostalgic smile crossed his face. "Yeah. It is."

CUT TO:
INT. JOSH AND DONNA'S APARTMENT

"Have you seen my hoop earrings?" Donna dug frantically through her jewelry box.

"Your what?"

"I thought I put them in here Saturday night." She walked briskly into the bedroom, then the living room in search of the earrings.

"Did we even get out of bed Saturday night?" Josh smirked.

"As I recall, we were on the rug next to the fireplace most of the evening," Donna commented from the other room.

"Right." His face broke into a full-dimpled smile. "That was fun."

She returned to the bathroom with a huff. "Maybe they fell off in the car."

Josh wrapped his arms around her from behind and began kissing her neck. "We *were* doing a lot of this on the way back from the State Dinner."

She stretched her neck to one side, giving him access to a mile of alabaster skin. "Yes." She grinned. "We were."

Josh picked up a gold ring out of the jewelry box with one hand while keeping one firmly planted on her stomach. "Hey, why don't you ever wear this?"

Donna rolled her eyes. "That's my high school ring, Josh."

He looked surprised. "It is?"

"Yes."

He got a gleam in his eye.

"I know what you're thinking."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do." She spun around to face him. "You're wondering if I was hot in high school."

Josh smirked. "Not *if* you were hot, Donna."

"You're incorrigible!" She pushed him away and resumed her search. Lifting the hand towel, she discovered the silver hoop earrings. "I found them!"

"Damn, I was hoping they'd fallen off in the car."

"Why? So you could insinuate that your seduction techniques made me lose my earrings without even noticing?"

"I wouldn't be insinuating. And I've never heard you complain about *any* of my techniques."

Donna kissed him on the lips, then walked away. "Come on, Casanova. We're going to be late."

Josh was still holding her class ring in his hand. He took one last look at it, then dropped it into his pocket. He bounced out of the room with a huge grin plastered to his face.

CUT TO:
INT. PRESS SECRETARY'S OFFICE

"Good morning, Val," Lester greeted his assistant as he shoveled past her desk. "Hold all my calls this morning. I have to finish the media plan for the troops' homecoming. Lou's going to have my head if I don't wrap it up today."

Val quickly stood, extending the phone cord to the point of nearly making the phone fall onto the floor. She motioned with one hand for him not to go into his office and pointed with the other to the receiver, which was cradled between her ear and shoulder. "Yes, sir," she said into the mouth piece. "I'll have him call you this afternoon."

Lester, ignoring her antics, opened the door and was greeted by something unexpected. "WHAT IN THE HELL?"

"I really have to go, Mr. Pike." Val closed her eyes and sighed. "My boss is here."

"Val!" Lester yelled, taking a step back. "Why are there turkeys in my office?"

"I can explain." She hung up the phone and stood next to the press secretary.

Lester blanched at the odor penetrating his office. "It smells like a farm in here!"

"Have you been to a farm?"

He gave his assistant a pointed look.

"Right," she said. "You know about the presidential turkey pardon, right?"

He nodded.

"It's customary to have the press secretary determine which bird gets pardoned," Val began. "So you get to choose the more photogenic one."

"I have to choose the hottest turkey?" Lester looked at her like she was nuts. "What happens to the other one?"

Val lowered her head. "He's somebody's Thanksgiving meal."

"This is ridiculous."

"It's tradition."

Sam whizzed by Lester's office.

"Sam! Have you heard of this?"

Sam looked up from the memo he was reading. "Heard of what?"

"The press secretary choosing which turkey is more photogenic?" Lester folded his arms.

"Yes," Sam replied. "CJ didn't care for this part of her job. As I recall, she asked the President to pardon both turkeys every year."

"I can do that?"

"I don't see why not." He shrugged. "We're in the Roosevelt Room in five."

Lester turned back to the birds, then looked at Val. "This is shaping up to be one helluva day."

CUT TO:
INT. OVAL OFFICE

President Santos took a slow sip of his second cup of coffee as Josh entered the Oval Office. He set the mug down, then tossed a copy of The Post on his desk.

"Kurt Rutland claims he won't retire until his toes curl up," Santos said with a huff.

"Considering he's lined up for double bypass surgery next month, his toes might be curling before Christmas," Josh replied.

"That doesn't seem to be slowing the man down."

"Tell me about it."

"He's been a thorn in my side since my first term in Congress. How does an educated black man like Rutland*not* support affirmative action?" Santos leaned back in his chair. "And I still don't understand how he helped pass Prop 2 in Michigan."

"Rutland's a smooth talker with deep pockets." Josh put his hands on his hips. "He makes sure every conservative voter knows who he is. It also helps that his firm's slogan is 'Striving for Equality.'"

"Yeah, because minorities have the same opportunities and privileges that whites have." The President half-laughed. "We should just forget about leveling the playing field, Josh. Let black students go to historically black colleges rather than the top research universities in the country. Forget about giving a leg up to first generation college kids." Santos raised his hands. "Give the same consideration to rich white kids whose parents can afford to send them to private schools as you do to poor Hispanic kids whose parents work three jobs just to make ends meet. That'll make every American equal."

"Right," Josh replied, equally frustrated by Kurt Rutland's crusade.

"Now he's got the Ku Klux Klan behind him."

Josh nodded. "An organization you really want helping you promote equality."

"Have someone on your staff do some digging. I want to know who's filling his pockets."

"I'll have Sam look into it."

"I have a feeling Kurt Rutland's just getting started."

"Even if he *is* 71 years old."

CUT TO:
INT. ROOSEVELT ROOM

"You've already had two," Otto complained as he and Bram fought over the last almond croissant.

Sam and Lester walked into the room and rolled their eyes.

"I had one banana nut muffin," Bram said. "It was stale."

Lou was the last to arrive at the morning meeting. "If I have to be the referee every time we have meetings with food, one of you is going to lose a limb."

While Bram slinked down into his seat, Otto snatched the croissant. It was rare that he beat Bram at anything, so he smiled at the small victory.

"Ok, folks." Lou put her hands on her hips. "We have a problem."

"Yeah, I've got turkeys in my office," Lester replied.

"I said 'we' have a problem. The thing with the turkeys is all you."

"What's wrong?" Sam asked from the far end of the table.

"Our first intern sex scandal."

Bram gulped. "I swear we just ran into each other at the bar."

"Make that two problems," Lou sighed. "Let's deal with the one concerning an elected official first, shall we?"

Bram silently thanked God that Lou had something more pressing to discuss.

She opened The Star-Tribune and read, "Democratic Congresswoman Marianne Dawes is accused of making sexual advances to a former intern during her second term in Congress. Jared Westbrook, now a paralegal in Mendota Heights, claims that Dawes made 'blatant sexual advances' throughout his four-month internship."

Sam furrowed his brow. "When is he saying this happened?"

Lou scanned the article. "Two years ago."

"And he's just coming out with it now?" Lester asked.

"Apparently." She threw the paper on the table, then took a seat. "Otto, stay on top of this today. Let me know who picks it up."

He frowned. "But I'm working on the Thanksgiving Proclamation."

"I thought you were done with that speech?" Sam asked. "You *should* be done, considering the President's delivering it at 3 o'clock this afternoon."

"I'm just polishing up the language." He looked at Lou. "You'll have a copy within the hour."

"Good," Sam said, eyeing both of them. "What's next?"

Lester leaned forward. "Can we discuss the turkeys in my office?"

"Let them..." Sam waved a hand in the air. "...play...in the Rose Garden."

Lester raised his eyebrows at Sam's suggestion, but as long as the turkeys were out of sight, he didn't really care where they ended up.

"Moving on to the ceremony..." Lou began. "Bram, you're in charge of the Girl Scouts. Meet them at the Northwest entrance, take them on an abbreviated tour, then escort them to the Rose Garden for the pardoning."

Bram nodded.

"Otto, you'll usher the two representatives from Blakely Farms and the National Turkey Chairman to the Oval Office at 2:50 p.m. for a quick photo op, then—"

"Wait," Otto interrupted with a hand in the air. "Bram gets to entertain Girl Scouts while I have to bring the National Turkey Chairman to the Oval?"

"Don't forget the representatives from Blakely Farms," Sam added. "They're the ones who raised the turkeys."

"There's actually a National Turkey Chairman?" Bram asked.

Lester put his head in his hands. "This is like a bad dream."

"And YOU," Lou said, looking at the press secretary, "will review the tradition of turkey pardoning with the press at your 10 o'clock briefing."

"Anyone wanna trade?" Lester asked.

Bram smiled. "I'm sticking with the Girl Scouts."

"Anything else?"

"There are any number of things we should discuss," Sam began, standing and closing a folder. "But I'll deal with you all on an individual basis."

They all gathered their things and stood. As Bram and Otto opened the door, Lou stopped them. "Oh, I'm roasting a duck tomorrow. Consider yourselves invited."

"Really?" Otto beamed.

"Just bring a tasty yet non-traditional side dish."

Lester rolled his eyes. "This ought to be fun."

CUT TO:
INT. CHIEF OF STAFF'S OFFICE

Sam strolled into Josh's office with a folder under his arm. "Did you hear about Congresswoman Dawes?"

Josh nodded. "We've got a call in to her office."

Sam sat in a visitor's chair. "What do you think?"

"I think it's a flimsy story and sloppy journalism." Josh sighed. "Still, Mary Marsh is gonna be all over it."

"That's a given," Sam replied. "But come on, two e-mails and a man's word? I'm surprised The Star-Tribune even printed it."

"We're not sweating it yet." Josh sat down with a thud. "I want to hear the Congresswoman's side of the story."

"Otto's going to stay on top of it the rest of the day."

"Good," Josh replied. He shuffled a few papers on his desk. "Looks like Kurt Rutland's making headlines again."

"The black conservative who preaches equality, yet practices segregation?"

"The one and only."

"He's not dead yet?"

Josh grinned. "Fate isn't that kind."

"What's the latest?"

"Rutland picked up the Ku Klux Klan's endorsement."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "A black man is accepting support from the KKK?"

"So it seems." Josh handed his deputy the article from The Post. "He's got several other financial backers who choose to remain anonymous for fear of being labeled racist."

"Ya think?" He let out a half-laugh.

"The President wants you to do some digging." Josh leaned back. "Find out who's funding Rutland's organization."

"I'll look into it." Sam nodded. "I've also got the summary report from the Renewable Energy Conference, an extremely rough draft of the Thanksgiving Proclamation, and notes on the Pandemic Flu." Sam flipped through his folder. "The CEO of Ford Motors called to confirm the meeting next week, and I have a call in to Lawrence Bright at GM."

Josh took the proffered pages. "You did all of this between the time I left last night and 9 o'clock this morning?"

"Turns out I do some of my best work at 2 a.m." He shrugged.

"When's the last time you slept more than four hours?"

"Sleep is overrated."

Josh leaned forward. "Sam, not eating or sleeping is probably not the best way to..."

"To what?"

Josh lowered his head, then looked up at his friend. "If you want to talk about it..."

Sam took a deep breath. "She made partner."

Josh raised his eyebrows. "Lauren?"

He nodded. "The first female partner in the firm's 80-year history."

"Wow. That's...that's—"

"It's ok, Josh," he said. "She's wanted this for a long time."

"Then I guess it's good?"

"For her, yes." Sam smiled. "It's very good for her."

"Good, then." Josh shifted in his seat. "Hey, Donna wanted me to make one last-ditch effort at getting you to come over for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow."

"Thank you, and thank HER, but I'll pass."

"She's gonna be pissed at me for not convincing you to come." Josh sighed. "You know how she gets around the holidays. She's already ordered a live Christmas tree from a place she found online, not to
mention the Christmas music she makes me listen to on the way to work."

"They're already playing Christmas music?"

"I think it's a CD." Josh half-laughed.

He smiled. "I'll call her and say you made a valiant effort."

Josh grinned. "That would be helpful."

CUT TO:
INT. OVAL OFFICE

It was a rare treat for Peter and Miranda to visit their father in his office. They were too old to crawl under his desk and play hide and seek, but they were too young to fully comprehend the importance of the words Don't Touch That. So when Miranda dropped a $4,000 Swarovski Crystal sculpture, their father'd had enough.

"Ok, kids." He jumped out of his desk and began sweeping the glass off the floor with a folder. "Ronna!"

"Sorry, Dad. I was just playing." Miranda pouted.

"You broke the spaceship!" Peter exclaimed.

"It wasn't a spaceship!"

"Yes, it was."

Ronna entered the Oval Office and saw the mess on the floor. "Actually, it was an Iluliac iceberg."

The kids looked puzzled.

"Which is kind of like a spaceship," Ronna said after realizing they'd never understand the value of such a piece.

Peter shoved Miranda. "Told you."

She pushed him back. "She said *kind of* like a spaceship."

"It's time for you two to exit the building." Santos stood and Ronna took over the clean-up. "Why don't you go play in the Rose Garden?"

"Can we bring Beebo?"

The President still hadn't grown fond of the family pet, but his children loved the bearded dragon.

"Please?"

"Fine, but stay in the Rose Garden. Don't walk around the White House with that thing."

The kids clapped and went to the East Wing to retrieve their beloved pet.

CUT TO:
INT. DEPUTY CHIEF OF STAFF'S OFFICE

"You rang?"

Sam looked up from the document he was reading and smiled. "Ainsley."

"Hey, Sam."

The two had only spoken once since Lauren left DC. It was a short conversation about a memo Ainsley was working on for the Renewable Energy Conference. Lauren's name never came up.

"Have a seat."

This was usually the time when they'd banter for a few minutes, but Sam's mind was myopically focused. Besides, he didn't think he'd had enough sleep to effectively win even an argument with Ainsley Hayes.

He removed his glasses. "There was an article in The Post this morning about Kurt Rutland."

"Yes, I read it." She crossed her legs.

"Don't you know him personally?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Good," Sam replied. "The President asked me to look into who's funding his organization, so I thought I'd check with you first to see if you had any information you'd be willing to share."

"Sam, just because the man is a Republican doesn't mean I know how to unlock his secrets."

"You mean there's no super secret Republican password?"

She grinned. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret now would it?"

He chuckled. Despite the twinge of nervousness he felt around Ainsley nowadays, she still tickled him.

"I'll see what I can find out." Ainsley stood.

Bram knocked on the door, then peeked inside. "Sam, hey." He looked at both of them. "Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting?"

"No," Ainsley replied. "I was just leaving."

"Do you need something?" Sam asked.

"I was just wondering if you're going to Lou's for Thanksgiving tomorrow."

Ainsley sighed. "If the snow storm holds off, I am going home to North Carolina for two days of stilted conversation and undercooked turkey."

"Undercooked turkey?"

"My grandfather believes all meat should be eaten rare, and his son, my father, doesn't disagree."

"Can't you get a disease from that?" Bram asked.

"Salmonella," Ainsley and Sam replied in unison. She smiled. He ducked his head.

"Right."

"I've thanked Lou for the invitation, but I'm not in a Thanksgiving sort of mood this year," Sam said.

"You don't know what you're missing." Bram's eyes lit up. "Lester's bringing his karaoke machine!"

"Wow. If ever I were on the fence about going, this certainly sealed the deal," Sam replied.

Ainsley tilted her head. "Oh, come on, Sam. I've heard you do a mean rendition of 'Mack the Knife.'"

He fidgeted in his seat. "I sang under protest as you might recall."

Ainsley smiled, remembering that night seven years ago. She and Sam had gone out for a beer after the Correspondent's Dinner, and it was karaoke night at the bar. They'd made some silly bet, which Sam lost, and his punishment was having to sing. He'd loosened his bowtie, letting it hang around his neck and did his best Bobby Darin impersonation. Ainsley remembered him being quite good.

"Yes, Sam. Yes, I do."