"First Lieutenant Will," CJ greeted him with a smile as he reached the stoop.  She reached for the bag of food he was carrying in the crook of his arm.  "You're the man."

Will arrived at Josh's apartment bearing Chinese food from Fast Fong's and a 12-pack of Sam Adams Light.  At the office earlier, Toby had explained that since this would be Will's first stoopside strategy session, he was responsible for food and alcohol.  Then CJ had stopped by Will's office with a Fast Fong's menu and a twenty; Josh had sent Donna over with ten bucks and a request for Sam Adams, which Toby'd amended to Sam Adams Light in deference to his quasi-diet.

Despite the fact that all four had left the White House around the same time, Will's trip to the grocery store and to Fast Fong's ensured he'd be the last to arrive at Josh's condo.  Of course, he'd never been there before, so it worked out to his advantage to have the very noticeable CJ Cregg sitting on the stoop and marking the house for him.

However picturesque the setting -- and Will had never really imagined himself sitting on a stoop outside of the White House Deputy Chief of Staff's condo with the other senior staffers, brainstorming over who to pick as the new Vice President of the United States -- the mood was somber.  Still, the night was mild enough for Will to believe that spring was finally here, and despite the situation, he was oddly touched that he'd been included.

"I thought I was the man."  Josh appeared in the doorway carrying four beers.  "Ah," he said, spotting the 12-pack Will had deposited on the steps.  "You've done good, young -- wait.  Sam Adams Light?"

"Yes," Toby answered, blowing out a stream of cigar smoke.  "Light beer is better for you."

Josh wheeled around and gave his coworker an alarmed look.  "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Apparently his diet has finally tweaked his mind," CJ answered smoothly.  "Besides, Donna will be less angry if you drink light beer, right?"

Josh grinned.  "I don't think she cares what particular beer I drink, she'll be mad regardless."

Will stood awkwardly at the foot of the short staircase.  "You'll have to explain to me someday why Donna monitors your alcohol intake."

Josh glanced away and tapped his chest lightly.  "She worries about my, you know, my thing."

It took Will a moment to figure out what Josh was referring to, because as much as he understood that the man sitting there on the stoop and "White House Staffer Josh Lyman, 39, Shot" were the same person, he hadn't known them then.  He'd followed news of Rosslyn and its aftermath with the same shocked, horrified attention as his fellow Americans, but for him it wasn't personal.  It wasn't a friend.  Will could tell from the purposefully neutral expression on CJ's face and the way Toby had his face carefully averted that it was a defining moment for these three.

CJ tugged at Josh's pant leg until he obliged her and sat on the top stoop.  "That," CJ said, turning a mischievous look to Will, "and the fact that Josh is a complete lightweight."

"I am not," Josh protested.  He waved a hand in the air and gave Will a frustrated look.  "Would you sit down?  You're making me nervous."

"Oh," Will answered.  "Thank you.  Did you want me to put the beer in the refrigerator?"

Josh gave the 12-pack a baleful look, and CJ elbowed him good-naturedly.  "Will's a guest, Josh.  Go put the beer in the fridge."

With an exaggerated sigh, Josh pushed himself up, grumbling all the while, and complied.  As he disappeared into the building, Will settled himself gingerly across the stoop from Toby, who was watching him with a measured look.  Will wondered if Toby was thinking about the many times Sam had been a participant in the stoopside strategy sessions.  The odd expression Josh wore as he emerged from the condo and gave Will an evaluating look confirmed Will's suspicions.

He shifted uncomfortably, but accepted the cool beer bottle Josh handed him.  "Thanks."  Will took a long swallow, then placed the beer on the step beside him and wiped his palms on his pants.

Quiet settled over the four for a long moment, the only sound the clink of glass bottles on cement steps, and the rustle of paper as CJ unpacked the food and distributed it.

Will pointed at Toby's cigar.  "I thought Andy wanted you to--"

"Oh, would you please?" Toby interrupted with an exasperated look.  "Do you see my ex-wife here?"

Will glanced at Josh, who was grinning outright, and tried to suppress his own amusement.  "No."

Another lull.  Will munched contentedly on his Hon Soo Gai, taking in the upscale neighborhood, the sidewalks sheltered by trees.  He really needed to get around to moving out of the Holiday Inn.  He figured Georgetown would be a prime location, but he never seemed to have a solid block of time to actually go look at real estate.

"So," CJ said, then she paused for a swig of beer.  "I've always been a fan of Congresswoman Douglas-Radford."

Toby actually snorted.  "CJ."

"What?" CJ shot back.  "She's incredibly smart.  Accomplished.  Served six years--"

"We have an opposition Congress," Josh interrupted.  "You think we're going to get a liberal Democratic woman confirmed?"

CJ tilted her head to the side, considering.  "Well, if we nominate her and the Senate refuses to confirm, wouldn't it expose the misogyny of some of our Senators?"

"Yes."

"And they would then be voted out of office--"

All three men started talking over CJ before she could finish her thought.  CJ glared at Toby, who was, predictably, the one talking the loudest.  "This isn't a feminist power play, CJ," he all but shouted.

"If the opposition Congress means we're going to be stuck with a dishwater Democrat," CJ countered, "why not nominate someone we believe in first?"

"Because a failed nominee for Vice President will weaken the President," Will answered, despite the fact that the question had been posed to Toby.

CJ grumbled something into her beer, and Toby raised his eyebrows.  "Will's right, CJ."

Waving her bottle around, CJ swallowed quickly.  "Whoever we choose is going to be the presumptive nominee for 2006."

"Yes," Josh answered, his voice subdued.

"And so you want some dishwater Democrat to challenge a Republican party that's gained control over both houses and built up their base by moving to the right?"

"Not particularly," Toby said.  CJ opened her mouth to protest further, and Toby continued, "But the Republicans have both houses."

There it is, Will thought.  The ugly truth.

They mulled that over for a while, eating and taking sips of beer in the quiet.  The food was delicious, and the beer was pretty good, for light beer.

CJ started to chuckle, drawing the attention of her compatriots.  She struggled to suppress her mirth, but their curious looks merely set her off again.

"The hell, CJ?" Toby asked.

"Nothing," she said, waving a dismissive hand at him.  Then she started to laugh harder, burying her face in her hands.  "We could always--"  She stopped, shaking her head helplessly.  "We could--"

Her laughter was so infectious that Will found himself grinning at her, though he had no idea of the source of her amusement.  "CJ?"

"I believe," Toby answered dryly, "that CJ was about to propose that we nominate a liberal Republican."

Will turned a horrified look to his boss.  "What?"

He shrugged.  "It's not my idea."

CJ got herself back under control.  "Yeah," she said.  "It would certainly befuddle the Republicans, though."

Josh wore a pensive expression.  "You know--"

"No," Toby interrupted forcefully.

"Toby, think about it.  If we nominated a liberal Republican--"

"I thought the existence of liberal Republicans was a myth," Will interrupted.  "You know, like unicorns or hobbits."

CJ gave him an odd look.  "Hobbits?"

Will shrugged and turned his attention back to his food.  "On the other hand, we'd be able to claim that we're a bipartisan administration," he said.  "Historically, the loser of the presidential race was meant to become the Vice President."

Toby glowered.  "We are not nominating Robert Ritchie.  We are nominating someone who possesses at least a passing acquaintance with the English language."

Will held up a placating hand.  "I wasn't suggesting Ritchie.  I was simply pointing out that a bipartisan administration was the original intent.  You know how those Republicans love the Founding Fathers' alleged intent."

"Founders," CJ corrected.  "The Founders' intent."

Josh rolled his eyes.  "CJ, it's not a sexist term.  They were all men."

"Yeah, because their paternalistic little society--"

"Could we please?" Toby interrupted with a pained look.

Josh leaned forward to draw their attention.  "Matt Skinner's a pretty liberal Republican."

Toby nearly choked on his beer.  "Are you kidding me?" he bellowed.  "You shoot down the idea of a liberal Democratic woman making it through Senate confirmation hearings, but an openly gay, liberal Republican is your idea of a solid candidate?"

Josh lifted one shoulder in a shrug.  "The Republicans would have a harder time coming up with a pretext for dismissing a liberal Republican than they would a liberal Democrat."

"Half of his own party thinks he's going to hell," Will pointed out.

"More than half of his party," Josh shot back, "is made up of arrogant, self-righteous--"

"Josh," CJ interrupted, touching his knee.  "Still, the Republican thing is an intriguing idea," she insisted.

"It might be intriguing," Will answered with a smile, "but I wouldn't want to be the one to try to sell it to Leo, never mind the President."

"What would be helpful," Toby said, "is if someone other than Stackhouse had run third-party."

"No one did," Josh answered dismissively.

"Okay."  Will shrugged.  "Why not Stackhouse?"

"He's too old," Toby answered bluntly.  "The DNC would go crazy.  An 80-year-old presumptive nominee?"

"But wouldn't that solve the problem CJ raised?" Will asked.  "Stackhouse is so old that he'd be unlikely to win the nomination, which means the field for '06 would stay open.  We wouldn't be stuck with a dishwater Democrat."

Josh shook his head, his expression pensive.  "We're not just setting up the next election.  In fact, we can't care that much about '06 right now.  We're choosing someone of great importance to this administration.  We need someone strong and hearty and hale."

Toby blinked.  "Hale?"

"You know what I mean."  Josh took a swig of beer, but when he noticed Will's baffled look, he plunked the bottle down onto the cement steps and explained, "MS.  Whatever other qualifications, the candidate we come up with has to be strong and full of life.  You know," he shrugged, seemingly uncomfortable.  "In case."

"Oh."  Will averted his gaze, staring momentarily at his rice.  Now that he knew the key players in Bartlet's original campaign, he didn't believe they'd orchestrated a massive deception to put their guy in office.  But back when the story broke, it had confirmed his nagging doubts about Bartlet, who'd always seemed a little too good to be true.  His father'd had enough contentious dealings with the United States government that Will had learned from a young age that men weren't perfect.  They were selfish and they put politics ahead of people and they were willing to compromise even when they shouldn't.

After Will learned about Bartlet's illness, he'd figured Bartlet was just another one of those guys.  He knew better now, though he still wondered what had possessed the President to conceal something so important.  Will's lingering questions made discussing the ramifications of the President's mistake with Toby, CJ, and Josh was more than a little uncomfortable.

"You know," CJ remarked after the silence spun out a little too long, "the health issue notwithstanding, my liberal Republican idea solves the other problem."

Will watched the others, not wanting to wade hip-deep into anything involving the MS scandal.  From CJ's careful tone, Will guessed she was trying to lead them back to safer conversational ground.

"What other problem?" Josh asked, his expression puzzled.

"The presumptive nominee problem."  CJ gave Josh an expectant look, but it was Toby who responded.

"What happened to you hating Republicans and everything they stand for?" he demanded with a disbelieving shake of his head.

She shrugged.  "Well, not liberal Republicans.  I only hate about half of what liberal Republicans stand for."

Josh rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored CJ's point.  "We need a moderate."

CJ glanced up at him.  "Josh--"

"Democrat," he added.  "We do.  We need a moderate.  We need a healthy, moderate, Southern Democrat to get past the Senate."

Toby gave Josh an irritated look.  "Someone like John Hoynes?"

"Yes," Josh shot back.  "And for what it's worth, we can talk about winning over poor white Southerners all we want, but they still vote Republican by large margins, and there's no way a liberal Democrat -- especially Left Coast Hollywood Democrat, or a Northeastern Elitist Democrat -- can win them over.  We need a solid, moderate, Southern Democrat to get past the Senate, and we need the same to win in '06."

"What a battle cry," Will remarked sardonically.  His picturesque evening was quickly turning into a disappointing crash course in political realities.  "Rally around the solid moderate."  The look Josh sent him was poisonous, and Will held up a hand.  "I'm just saying."

CJ pursed her lips thoughtfully, gazing into the middle distance.  "No," she decided after a few moments.  "I thought we weren't trying to set up '06."

Josh shrugged.  "That's not our primary goal, but we have a responsibility to the Party to choose someone with half a shot."

"I like Will's idea," CJ argued stubbornly.  "Or my idea.  We hold open the slot and let some decent Democrats with ideas fight for the nomination."

"That's nice," Toby answered in that politely sarcastic tone.  "But your idea is ridiculous.  A bloody Democratic primary will effectively hand the White House to the Republicans."

"Right." Josh nodded.  "And Will's idea won't work."

"Actually," Will started.  "I think--"

"But you think a Southern moderate's gonna save us?" Toby interrupted, gesturing sharply with his hands.  Will was momentarily mesmerized by the swirls of smoke trailing after Toby's cigar.  "Have you forgotten that you left Hoynes' campaign to join Bartlet for America?"

The expression on Josh's face was arresting; he looked ten years older, his eyes dark with what looked a lot like disappointment.  "I haven't forgotten that," he bit out.

Will tried to think of something to say, something to ease the tension he didn't quite understand.  "What about Senator DeJoie?"

Toby broke off the glaring contest he was having with Josh and looked at the younger man.  "DeJoie?"

"Yeah."

Toby exchanged glances with CJ.  "Same as CJ's female candidate idea."

"You're kidding me," Will answered.

CJ shrugged.  "Do you think Mosely would--"

"No, you can't be serious!"  Will raised his voice, "We're dismissing possible candidates because of their race now?"

"No," Toby argued, his tone irritable.  "We're pointing out that the Senate Majority Leader isn't the most liberal Republican ever to walk the earth, and has even spoken at the CCC, which in case you weren't aware, has some ties to the KKK, so more than likely, nominating a black, liberal Senator from Illinois for Vice President wouldn't end well for the President or the nominee."

Josh tapped his beer bottle.  "What about Fitz?"

Will frowned.  "Admiral Fitzwallace?"

"Yeah."

"He's the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs," Will pointed out.

Josh shrugged.  "So?"

"So taking the current leader of the military and putting him as the next-in-line for the civilian leader of the government is..."  Will shrugged.  "Haven't you ever read Seven Days in May?"

Josh perked up.  "There's a character in there named Lyman."

CJ whacked Josh's leg.  "What are you suggesting, Will?"

"I'm not suggesting anything," he protested.  "I'm just pointing out that our government is structured to be accountable to the people, and one of the ways it accomplishes that is by making sure the leaders who are elected by the people are the ones who have control over the military, and not the other way around."

"It wouldn't be the first time a Chairman ended up President," Toby pointed out.  "Eisenhower."

Will nodded.  "Yeah, but we're not talking about Fitzwallace winning the confidence of the American electorate, we're talking about appointing him second-in-line for the Presidency."

Toby exhaled a long stream of smoke.  "You don't think Percival Fitzwallace is a good choice?"

Will threw up his hands, nearly spilling his beer bottle.  "I don't know the Admiral very well.  He seems like a stand up guy, but we've got to be concerned, as you've all pointed out, with appearances just as much as reality, right?"

CJ met Josh's gaze with a concerned look.  "Will's right.  Plus, there are other concerns that we should take into consideration."

Toby turned rather abruptly to face her.  "CJ," he cautioned.

Josh nodded, his expressive face schooled into an attempt at impassivity.  "Yeah.  I don't think Fitz is our guy."

Will suspected the others possessed a fairly significant piece of information about Admiral Fitzwallace.  Obviously, whatever Fitzwallace had been involved in, it was something that could be a political liability.  Will knew the kinds of things military leaders did, knew the kinds of morally sticky situations they faced, but decided not to ponder the possibilities too closely.  Instead, he ran through the members of Congress he could think of for possible nominees. "What about McKenna?"

Toby tilted his head slightly, CJ pursed her lips in thought, and Josh shook his head decisively.

Will raised his eyebrows and asked Josh, "You don't like McKenna?"

"Oh, I do," Josh said.  "But he's not Southern and he's not a moderate.  On top of which," Josh continued, raising his voice over Toby's irritated protests, "he's had three heart attacks and one bypass surgery.  This is the guy we want one heartbeat away from the Presidency?"

CJ frowned.  "Which would actually be the headline I'd have to spin.  Damn.  What about Ryan Lyndell?"

Toby nodded.  "Lyndell's a good Senator, but we probably want to stay out of New England and New York."

"This is a pain in the ass," Will decided, slumping back against the railing.  "We can't pick anyone from the northeast, we can't pick a woman, we can't pick a liberal -- who can we pick?"

Josh slammed his empty beer bottle onto the step with more force than was necessary.  "I'm getting another round.  Anyone else?"

Toby held up his empty bottle, CJ nodded, and Will said, "Yeah, thanks."

With a curt nod, Josh disappeared into his condo.  Will met CJ's gaze, but she shook her head almost imperceptibly.  He knew the basics, even if he didn't remember the story from the 1998 election, but he'd never really considered what it must have cost Josh to jump from a sure thing to a long shot.  Gutsy move, but because it had turned out very well for Josh, one often ignored by the people who wrote those annoying features in Newsweek.

Josh emerged with two beer bottles dangling from each hand.  He passed them around and dropped back to his place.  "What about Congressmen?"

CJ looked annoyed, but didn't comment aloud.  Will failed to suppress an amused grin, which CJ acknowledged by swatting his arm.

"Not enough name recognition," Toby said.  "Only a few Congressmen get significant coverage on TV, and usually that coverage has more to do with illicit affairs and contribution scandals than political accomplishments."

Will nodded.  "Fair point.  But couldn't relative obscurity help us?"

CJ looked intrigued, tapping one fingernail against her beer bottle.  "We'd get to knock the announcement out of the park if we picked someone with a low profile.  The first few hours on CNN would be whatever I say at the podium."

"Until their research staff -- not to mention the Republican Hate Machine -- got into gear," Josh interjected.  "And any possible scandal that could come back to haunt a relatively obscure Congressman is probably something we wouldn't know about."

Will raised an eyebrow at that, wondering what unused dirt they had on the more prominent members of Congress.  President Bartlet didn't seem like the kind of person who would allow retaliatory press leaks, but Will supposed knowing what could come out helped Josh and Toby keep the President from standing too close to a potential political liability.

"Anyone know any good governors?" Toby asked.  "Anyone not mired in budget problems or police brutality scandals?"

They grew quiet, running through their mental rolodexes.  Finally, Josh shook his head.  "Nope.  Only governor who fits that description signed that civil unions bill into law.  Mosely would eat him alive."

Toby grimaced by way of acknowledgment.

"So," Will said, "we want a moderate Southern Democrat in the Senate who isn't likely to have any skeletons, and," he continued, ticking the points off on his fingers, "who isn't female, black, Hispanic, or gay.  Is that about the size of it?"

Josh glared at him for a moment.  "Pretty much," he admitted, his tone resigned.  "Though I wouldn't hold fast to the restrictions.  The moderate Southern part might very well outweigh the other stuff."

CJ tilted her head to one side.  "Technically," she began, "wasn't Pennsylvania right next to the Confederacy--?"

"No," Toby interrupted irritably.  "It was not.  Have you ever read a history book, CJ?"

"Do we need to talk about how textbooks are chosen in this country?" CJ shot back.

Toby rubbed a hand over his face.  "No, we really don't.  Pennsylvania was a Union state.  Maryland was a border state.  Virginia was a Confederate state."

"And West Virginia seceded from Virginia to stay Union," Will added.

Toby gave him a mild glare.  "Thank you."  He turned his attention back to CJ.  "We're not nominating Susan Douglas-Radford, CJ.  She proposed an amendment that would have allowed publishers of violent pornography to be sued by rape victims!"

"Only if their rapists used the magazines to plan their crimes, or while assaulting them," CJ shot back.

Will felt his forehead wrinkling in consternation.  "You have heard of the First Amendment, right?"

CJ gave him a baleful look.

"I'm just pointing out that if you start holding publishers liable for what the people who read their books and magazines do, you're going to kill the free press pretty quickly."

"Maybe," CJ admitted grudgingly, "but there's a difference between lively debate and explaining in detail how best to kill or rape someone.  And if there were a legal remedy, the victims of racially motivated crimes could sue that guy who wrote The Turner Diaries."

Josh kept his gaze focused on the stoop, his fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of his beer bottle.

Toby glanced at Josh, then ground his cigar into the cement step.  "Regardless of how much we like Douglas-Radford and DeJoie and Lyndell, we need someone who can get past the Senate."

Josh took a swig of beer and attempted a grin.  "So," he said, glancing at each of them in turn, "who's our guy?"

CJ grabbed a napkin from the Fast Fong's bag.  "I have no idea.  I think we may have to make someone up."  Toby sent her a perplexed look and she shrugged.

Will tossed his chopsticks into the bag.  "Probably we don't want to do that.  What about private sector?"

"No," Josh answered quickly.  "We need someone with a political résumé."

"Well," Toby said, finishing off his second beer.  "I don't think we're going to pinpoint our guy tonight."

Josh looked a little frustrated, but shrugged it off.  "Okay," he said, tossing his small white carton into the bag.  "I want one name from each of you tomorrow morning.  I need to bring Leo --"  He broke off.  "What?"

"You're giving us homework?" CJ asked, incredulous.

"Well, technically I'm your boss," Josh answered.

CJ rose to her feet, towering over Josh.  "Care to repeat that?"

The edges of Toby's mouth quirked up in an almost-smile.  Will grinned outright.

Josh looked slightly fearful.  "On second thought," he said after a moment, "why don't we talk about this again in the morning."

CJ ruffled his hair as she stepped past him, carrying the bag of trash in her free hand.  "Good boy."

As she disappeared into the house, Josh sighed and leaned his elbows on the step behind him.  "She never talks to Leo like that."

"Leo," Toby said, "exudes class and leadership."

Will hid his smile by taking one last swallow of beer.

"Hey!" Josh protested.  "I exude--"

"Waders, Joshua," CJ said, appearing suddenly in the doorway.  "Bright yellow waders.  Think before you keep going with that sentence."

Josh caught Will's eye and shook his head.  "You see what I deal with?"

"All that," Will answered, pushing himself upright, "and an assistant who monitors your alcohol intake.  Quite an interesting life you've got going for yourself, Josh."

"All right," Josh commanded, his tone good-natured, "I'm reinstating the homework."  His smile faded, and that tired look was back.  He shoved one hand through his hair.  "I need to be able to bring Leo something."

Toby nodded and rose to his feet with a grimace.

CJ and Toby exchanged an unreadable look, then she nudged Josh's shoulder with her knee.  "There's more beer in the fridge," she said, her tone warm.

With a glance at Will, Toby started wordlessly up the stairs, past Josh, and into the building.  Josh tilted his head awkwardly to track Toby's progress, then turned his gaze up to CJ.  "How much more beer?"

"Enough."

Will stood on the sidewalk, uncertain.  The tired, discouraged Josh sitting on the stoop bore little resemblance to the loud, opinionated, brilliant, and egotistical man striding the halls of the White House at breakneck speed.  Will knew they'd all let him a little ways into their world tonight, and he didn't want to overstep his bounds.  He gestured vaguely down the street, towards his car.  "So I should probably--"

"Hey, First Lieutenant Will," CJ said, nudging Josh again with her knee.

"Yeah?" Will asked.

"There's more beer," she said.

"Really," Will answered.

Josh reached a hand up, and CJ obliged, hauling him to his feet. Josh glanced down at Will.  "Yup.  But there won't be if we stand out here all night and leave Toby alone with the beer."

"Plus," CJ said with a brief touch to Josh's arm.  "Ten bucks says this guy's got a Senate roster inside.  This discussion will be much easier with a map."

Josh smirked at her.  "I thought you didn't trust maps anymore."

Will frowned.  "You don't trust maps?"

"Did you know Germany's not where we think it is?" CJ asked by way of answering Will's question.  Will merely shrugged, flummoxed.

"CJ," Josh groaned.  "Can we please not rehash--?"

"They changed the map," CJ told Will.  Josh threw his hands up in surrender and turned to go inside.  CJ didn't seem to notice.  "They said it was skewed or inaccurate or --"  She broke off and gave Will an exasperated look.  "Would you come on?"

He grinned and started up the stairs.  "Only if you promise not to tell me why Germany's not where we think it is."

CJ rolled her eyes and pulled him inside.

THE END

06.14.03