ACT 2
INT. WHITE HOUSE RESIDENCE, EARLY MORNING

"You should have seen them, Matt," Helen called from the bathroom.

"I'm sure it was heartbreaking, darling," Santos called as he knotted his tie in the mirror. "But the press focus is going to continue be on the assassination attempt. We're going to have a hard enough time turning them back toward the skin-of-our-teeth accomplishment in Amiir, much less what you saw at the clinics."

"Well, I don't know if you noticed, but there are more than a couple reporters around here," Helen walked out of the bathroom and began rummaging in her jewelry box for a pair of earrings. "Some of them can have your side of the story, and maybe some will be interested in mine."

"Hey, how many pet causes are you gonna have?" Santos crossed the room and stood close behind her. "You were hell-bent on computers in classrooms before--"

"It's still a very worthy initiative, but…Matt," she turned to face him. "If you'd seen them, seen what I saw, you'd understand. Jeff, and the doctors he's working with, they're doing amazing work with what they've got, but what they've got is shameful. The resources we could offer could make a life-changing difference NOW, TODAY. A little publicity would be all he'd need to get the ball rolling." She slid her arms around his waist. "Will you meet with him before he leaves?"

"Helen," he whined. "I've got debriefings on the mission today, in addition to the 2,100 things I normally have to try to get accomplished--"

"Fifteen minutes?" she gave him a peck on the lips. "That should be long enough for a man of your *considerable* talents to get a grasp on the situation."

He grinned. "Boy, am I screwed if you ever decide to take an interest in more aggressive measures, like dissolving our trade agreements." He kissed her to seal the deal. "Call Ronna, have her put it on my calendar."

"Thank you." She turned back to the mirror, and Santos went to retrieve his cooling cup of coffee from the table. Helen shuddered a little as she fastened the clasp of her necklace. "I just can't get over those children. There was this one little boy; he must have been about Peter's age--"

"Peter!" Santos nearly choked on his coffee. "Oh, my God, I completely forgot."

"They're not due to be up for another 20 minutes," Helen said. :"But I was thinking of waking them now--"

"No, I…Josh told me, while you were gone, right before everything went haywire, Peter's teacher said something at his parent-teacher conference."

Helen turned from her reflection. "Is there a problem?"

"I don't know…she had some concerns, said he keeps kicking his desk."

Helen furrowed her brow. "He's never really been the disruptive type."

"I didn't get the impression that's what it was, it wasn't frustration, it was more concern that--"

"Did you say *Josh* told you?"

Santos' eyes went wide. "Did I?"

"What does *Josh* have to do with--"

"Okay…alright, I'm just gonna…Helen, if I'm ever in a position where I can't take a meeting, Josh is the guy who--"

"You sent your *chief of staff* to a parent-teacher conference?"

"Helen, I had--"

"Oh, that's just brilliant!" she erupted.

"Now hang on a minute, you make it sound like--"

"The one thing I asked you to do while I was away!"

"Well, I'm sorry about that, honey, but the American people had a few things they asked me to do too, and--"

"Why don't I just get Donna to go to Miranda's dance recitals from here on out?" Helen shrugged into her jacket. "Or have Annabeth review and sign their report cards?"

"Helen, the thing with the embassy happened, and then I was more focused on getting you home…it slipped my mind for a few hours, was all."

"Don't worry about it," Helen drawled sarcastically. "You've got a country to run. I'll follow up with Peter's teacher and take care of the pesky business of raising the kids."

She left Matt standing in the middle of the room. "Yeah," he sighed to himself. "It's gonna be a great day."

CUT TO: JOSH & DONNA'S APARTMENT, SAME TIME

Josh knocked on the bathroom door hesitantly, his peace offering cooling in his hand.

"Yeah?" she called from the other side.

"You alright in there?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're just taking kind of a long…" He looked down and toed the carpet. "No reason." He turned to leave just as the door opened to reveal a meek Donna in her bra.

"I can't fasten the clasp," she said sheepishly, holding up the wrist encased in her new brace. "I don't know how in the world anyone's expected to…" She breathed out slowly. "I need a little help."

"You wanna tell me to sit down before you say that kind of thing."

"You don't get to make jokes yet."

He held out a cup of coffee. "This is for you. Turn around."

She complied, watching his reflection in the mirror as he fastened the clasp behind her back. "That may be the first time in my life I've ever put one of those on."

"I wasn't sure if you knew they worked both ways," Donna said into her coffee mug.

An awkward silence stretched between them.

"So, I just wanted to let you know…" Josh said, carefully watching her face in the mirror as he proceeded. "I've done a little research on the matter, and it turns out, sometimes I overreact to things." Her face softened. "In fact, I'm pretty sure last night I got full of myself and called you a liar.
Classic overreaction."

She set her coffee on the counter and turned, wrapping her arms around his torso. "It was a sin of omission. I was going to tell you later, but I just…I don't know what I was doing. It was wrong of me. But I don't lie to you. Not ever."

"I know. I got a little…emotions were running a little high, and…You're so strong, I know it doesn't even faze you, but…Donna, this kind of thing brings back memories for me I'd rather not--"

She leaned up and kissed him, taking her time with it. "Apology accepted." He captured her lips again. "You, too," he mumbled. His hands quickly worked their way back to the clasp of her bra.

"Josh--"

"I promise I'll help you put it back on later," he mumbled against her neck.

"What time is it?"

He looked at his watch. "Damn."

"That's what I thought."

"Do you have any idea the kind of frenzy I worked myself into going days without…and then you came home, and we didn't even--"

"Don't talk to me about the wait. It can get awfully lonely in the wilds of Africa." She smiled coyly. "With nothing to think about but you." She kissed him soundly. "I need to get dressed."

"This is gonna be a long day," he whined to his reflection.

CUT TO: INT. DONNA'S OFFICE, LATER THAT MORNING

"I used to think maybe you loved me, now, baby I'm sure," Annabeth sang to herself.

"You must stop that now," Donna muttered, slumped in her chair.

"And I just can't wait 'til the day you come knock on my door," Annabeth dropped into the guest chair with a sarcastic smile.

"If I promise I'm never going to come knock, will you stop singing?"

Annabeth cocked her head at Donna for a moment. "Now every time I go for the mailbox--"

"I could fire you, you know," Donna grinned.

"I'm perky; I can't help it. I was born this way."

"How can you be perky after all that? I could have slept for a week."

"Oh, I'm exhausted, I'm just still perky."

"Annoyingly so."

"Speaking of which, did the first lady sleep in?"

"She won't be in this morning, something about a meeting with one of Peter's teachers," Donna sighed. "We'll have to move the news conference to this afternoon. Do you think there's any way you could casually bring up the concept of news cycle and the limited attention of reporters in front of her?"

"So she'll be annoyed at me instead of you?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"It's a lesson I'm re-learning myself this morning. I've got crickets chirping in my office."

Donna looked up from fiddling with the Velcro on her brace. "Not many calls?"

"Not any."

"None?" Donna sat forward in her chair.

Annabeth shook her head. "The angle's all about the assassination attempt. The wire stories don't even get around to mentioning the First Lady was in the country until below the fifth graf."

"Okay," Donna blew her bangs out of her eyes. "They're gonna spend this news cycle on that angle. Let's work to pick up the next one with the eventful conclusion of her first trip abroad and what she plans to do about what she saw at the clinic. You work the press, I'll start rewriting her statement for when she finally comes in."

"Got it." Annabeth stood, then noticed Donna's new brace. "Hey, that's new. Was it worse than we thought?"

Donna chewed her lip for a moment. "It's fine. I've just got to wear it for a couple of weeks. It feels better than the ACE bandage."

CUT TO: INT. OVAL OFFICE

"They're talking about Heile; they're still just talking about the assassination attempt on Heile," Santos said. "I want them talking about the base."

"The assassination attempt owns the news cycle," Lou said. "But only for a few more hours. We can be in tomorrow's papers and on tonight's newscasts with the base."

"How can we turn it that quickly?" Josh asked.

"Vinick was there," Sam supplied. "The press bounces off these things like light off a mirror. When the president -- President Bartlet -- was shot, 12 hours later they had computer-generated models of the scene, complete with who was standing where, and how one step to the right or left could have…" he trailed off, breaking his eyes from Josh's. "Anyway, there's a sort of morbid fascination with who else was in the line of fire. Vinick was there. That gives us an easy segue."

"I'm gonna drop in a few off-hand references to Vinick when I get questions about it," Lester said.

"And he'll hold his own briefing at the State Department. He'll give an eyewitness account, and then slide into the second, third, and fourth order benefits of the base," Lou said as Ronna slipped in and handed the president a note. "The positive economic impact, increased security in the Gulf."

"And we'll control the next news cycle?" Santos asked as he read the slip of paper.

"Yeah," Lou said. "And we'll book the Sunday shows."

"Great," the president snapped his folio closed and stood. "I've gotta go. Thanks, everybody."

CUT TO: INT. CHIEF OF STAFF'S OFFICE, CONTINUOUS

"Take a look at Vinick's statement before he gives it, would you?" Josh said as Sam followed through the adjoining door. "Otto's probably going to work with his guy at State, but still, take a quick look."

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "How's Donna doing? I haven't had a chance to go over and see her yet."

"She has a hairline fracture in her wrist; we spent a few hours in the emergency room. And then we spent a few hours fighting about why she didn't tell me about it."

Sam's eyebrows shot into his hairline.

"It got a little out of hand, we both said some things, and called a truce this morning. We never actually answered the question. You know Donna. Everything's always fine. No matter what. The world can be falling apart around her, but everything's fine. Even in Germany, when she was so doped up she could barely hold her eyes open, she was trying to make a good show of telling me I should come back here and work."

Sam chortled. "That sounds like her." He lowered himself into a chair. "I'm sorry about the…the random Rosslyn reference, I was…"

"Oh," Josh waved the apology away with his hand. "Ancient history. With all that's happened, it's ancient history."

Sam held his gaze for a few beats.

"You know, he's working on the library."

Sam nodded. "I haven't heard from him in a few months."

"He feels it's important to do an exhibit marking the event. For better or worse, it was one of the defining events of his presidency. Actually, Zoey advocated for it. He wants to include some of the news coverage. He asked how I felt about it."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him I'm sure I'd be fine with whatever he decided to do."

"And will you?"

Josh shrugged. "I don't really know what's out there. Computer simulations," he scoffed. "'This is where we believe Mr. Lyman was standing when…' That kind of thing?"

"Kind of," Sam said.

Josh looked at the desk for a moment. "Is there footage? Detailed, I mean?"

Sam shook his head. "The most graphic thing I ever saw was a shot from some distance where you can see paramedics working on someone. I didn't even realize it was you until I saw myself in the shot. But even if it were out there somewhere, Josh, he wouldn't use it. I'm sure he means some of CJ's briefings, general coverage, not gore."

"You were there?" Josh said. "Afterward? You were there?"

"Yeah," Sam said, taken aback. "You talked to me quite a bit, actually."

"I don't remember," he said. "I don't remember anything until the doctor bugging the living hell out of me in the recovery room. Then Donna was there, acting, once again, like everything was just fi…"

"What?"

"I'll be damned," he said.

"What?"

"The Queen of Misdirection strikes again."

CUT TO: INT. WHITE HOUSE RESIDENCE, LIVING ROOM, SAME TIME

"I got your message," Santos said upon finding a pacing Helen. "What's going on?"

"I talked to Peter's teacher," Helen said, wringing her hands together. "She mentioned he kicks his desk and brought up the cough, too. That bug he's had for the last little while?"

"The sneezing thing?"

"The…yeah, kind of. I thought it was allergies."

"What does one have to do with the other?"

"She thinks they could be related. She thinks they could be a sign of something worse. Something developmental or neurological."

"Neurological?" Santos asked, concern lining his face.

"Jeff's in with him now," she said, sounding even more frazzled than she looked.

"He's home already?"

"I brought him home with me after the thing; I wanted to get him looked at."

"I don't understand what she's getting at, 'something neurological,'" Santos said, but the door to Peter's room opened before Helen could answer.

Helen crossed wrapped her arms around herself and turned to face him. "Well?"

"Well," Dr. Perez said, motioning for them to sit, a request they ignored. "I want to take him to a proper medical facility somewhere, run some tests."

"For what?" Santos asked.

"To rule out some things."

"Such as?"

"Such as head injury, allergic reaction, dozens of conditions--"

Helen shook her head. "You think it's something."

"I don't think anything yet."

Santos put his hands on his wife's shoulders while he watched the man he'd known for more than a decade. "Yes, you do."

"I like to test my hypotheses before I--"

"Jeff!" they pleaded in unison.

"I just did some preliminary screenings," Perez said. "It could be any one of a number of things at this point, that's why I need to do more tests. But it's not out of the realm of possibility…Peter does exhibit some symptoms of Tourette's Syndrome."