Josh tossed a folder onto his desk, cursing as the classified contents cascaded across his blotter.

"Need help?"

Donna, of course.  She stood just inside his doorway, arms crossed, her expression carefully neutral.  Obviously she was still pissed at him.

Josh flashed her an annoyed look.  "You'll do what you're not asked to do, then?"

Her expression froze over, and when she spoke, her words were clipped.  "If you want to know what Toby's working on, ask him."

With a derisive snort, Josh turned his attention to the documents on his desk, shoving them back into some semblance of order.  Donna could've done it better, but he was in no mood to apologize to her for doing his job.  "I already tried asking him."

"And?"

"He's not answering the question."  Josh paused, the reassembled file clutched in one hand.  He hated this feeling, this sick, nauseated certainty that their battered house of cards was about to collapse.

MS.  H.Con. 176.  Shareef.  Zoey.

The Bartlet administration was way over its allotment of goodwill, and whatever Toby was playing at could be enough for the Republicans to launch impeachment proceedings.

It had been Sam, of all people, who'd called Josh to report rumblings on the Hill.  No one from the left side of the aisle had seen it, but rumor had it that the Republicans had a plan of action just waiting for the right moment to bring Bartlet down.

"Maybe it's need-to-know," Donna suggested.

It took Josh a minute to figure out what the hell she was talking about.  "Toby's a speechwriter, Donna.  What would he need to know that I wouldn't?"

That was the question.  Leo'd sworn it wasn't about Josh's job, but Josh wasn't totally convinced.  Bartlet knew better than anyone how protective Leo was; if the President really wanted Josh out, he'd have to present it to Leo as a fait accompli.  Leo wouldn't be on the inside, not yet.  But Toby would.

"Josh," Donna said, her voice soothing. " This isn't about you."

He winced.  What the hell had happened to his game face?  "I know," he answered shortly, leaning down to unlock the bottom desk drawer.

"Josh--"

"I know it's not about me," Josh interrupted, pitching his voice lower.  No need for the bullpen to start whispering about this.  It'd be on the front page of the Wall Street Journal in the morning, true or not.  He shoved the file into the drawer between a list of possible soft targets for terrorists and the details of a particularly unsavory deal related to NAFTA.  Josh really disliked that particular desk drawer.

"Leo's not going to fire you," Donna said, her voice hushed.

Josh blew out a frustrated breath.  "I know."

"Then stop obsessing about it. Toby--"

"Do you remember the last time Toby knew something the rest of us didn't?" Josh snapped.

Donna glanced out at the bullpen, then quickly shut the door to his office.  "Josh," she said, in her my boss is off his rocker today, so I'd best be careful voice.

"I'm serious, Donna.  Leo's too close to the President to see clearly sometimes, and Toby's too damn idealistic.  Both of them think the president can and should single-handedly enact the entire liberal platform."

Donna moved closer, her head tilted slightly as she studied him.  "You think that, too.  We all do."

Josh flung one hand out in a dismissive motion and moved around the edge of his desk, pacing restlessly in the cramped space.  "You know what I mean."

"I really don't," Donna shot back.  She looked honestly puzzled.  "I remember those conversations on the bus, Josh.  Toby's no more idealistic than you are."

Josh paused midstep and blinked at her.  "Bus?" he echoed blankly.

Donna very nearly smiled.  "Bartlet for America, '98," she answered, and her soft tone brought back late nights on that damn bus, sprawled lazily in uncomfortable seats, discussing high-minded theory with this cute blonde from Wisconsin.  He missed that campaign so much just then that it was a physical ache.

He turned and kept circling the small open space.  "Of course I believe we put the best guy for the job in office.  Of course I believe that Jed Bartlet would love to implement the liberal agenda Tucker Carlson's always yapping about.  But there's a very big difference between election cycle idealism and Beltway politics.  And whatever Toby's doing, he's doing it in secret, which means it's politically explosive, and he's doing it without a counterbalance."

Donna frowned.  "Counterbalance?  You mean a Republican?"  She sounded properly appalled by the thought.

"No."  Josh's pacing petered out and he aligned his spine against the side door to his office, letting out a small groan.  "Don't you remember Sam's flights of fancy?"

This time, Donna's smile was genuine.  "Curing cancer."

"That was more the President's," Josh said, "but Sam ran with it.  The point is, we all have programs or causes that we feel so strongly about that we can't be objective."

Donna nodded.  "You and the suit against Big Tobacco."

"Exactly."  Josh rested his head against the door and let his eyes slide closed.  "And when one of us is so focused on saving our program that we're about to something incredibly stupid--"

"Like take funding for a study on the power of prayer to the President?" Donna suggested innocently.

Josh's eyes snapped open and he tried to glare at her.  "To name one example," he admitted.  "When any one of us gets to that point, the others are there to talk us down from the ledge."

"Ah," Donna said.

"Yes."

"Counterbalance."

"Right."  Josh pushed away from the door.  "But I can't reel Toby in if I don't know where he is."

Donna chewed on that for a moment, then gave a resolute nod.  She walked briskly to the door and opened it, giving him an expectant look.  "So go."

"Go where?"

"You need to know where Toby is."

"I know that," Josh answered, exasperated.  "Why do you think I sent you to--"

"Don't," she interrupted.  "I'm still pissed at you for that."

"Donna--"

"Bring me a white chocolate mocha in the morning and we'll call it even," she continued, talking right over his protests.  "Now go."

"Where am I going, exactly?" Josh asked, bemused even as he brushed past her and out into the bullpen.

"To find out where Toby is," Donna answered, falling into step beside him.  "Try giving him the counterbalance speech," she suggested brightly.  "But I think you could tighten it up in the middle, because you know how impatient Toby -- Ouch!" she yelped as she collided with Josh, who'd stopped in the doorway to the Northwest Lobby.  "Josh!  What are you--?"

Josh stood silent and stunned as Toby emerged from the Communications bullpen carrying a cardboard box, a carefully expressionless Secret Service agent on either side of him.  Toby'd almost managed the blank look himself, but anyone who knew him could read the anguish in his eyes.

Never hesitating, Toby met Josh's gaze for a long moment, then dipped his chin and broke eye contact.

Josh knew he should do something, say something, because this couldn't really be happening. Toby couldn't really be leaving the White House as -- as a former employee.

Toby paused at the security desk and half-turned, handing his credentials to one of the Secret Service agents flanking him.

"Josh," Donna whispered harshly, giving him a small push.

Josh stumbled and recovered, crossing the short distance to the door.  "Toby."

Toby jerked to a halt, his frame tense.  Slowly, he turned back to face Josh.  "Convince Leo to pull Will back here for a few days," Toby said quietly.  "CJ will need help with this, and you're not good with the press."

Josh opened his mouth, but couldn't think of a thing to say.

Toby nodded once more, then turned and walked proudly out into the evening.

***

"Josh!"

Josh hadn't moved since Toby disappeared; he was pretty sure he hadn't even blinked, but the tone of CJ's voice penetrated the shock and sent him spinning to face her.

CJ was a lavender valkyrie, barreling down the length of the Northwest Lobby waving a piece of paper in the air.

"Yeah?" Josh managed.

Donna touched his shoulder once, then retreated to the bullpen just as CJ stopped short only inches from Josh.

"What the hell is this?" she demanded, her free hand jabbing the defenseless paper.

He didn't need to look at it to know what it was.  "He just left," Josh told her, his tone sounding oddly flat, considering the circumstances.

"Toby?"  CJ's gaze slid from Josh to the Secret Service agents conferring at the security desk.  Her mouth tightened and she blinked a couple of times.

"Yeah," Josh confirmed.  He knew he should be doing something, but he could not for the life of him figure out what.  "He said--"  Josh cleared his throat, tried again.  "He said to get Will back here for a couple days to--"

"No!" CJ snapped, those eagle eyes focused sharply on Josh once more.  "We need to get Toby back."

"CJ--"

But she turned away, her long strides carrying her rapidly away from him.  "Are you coming?"

Jerking into action, Josh jogged until he caught up with her.  She hadn't known either, or she'd have dragged Toby back into the building by his ear and locked him in her office.  Josh still wasn't sure what, exactly, Toby had done, but for Leo to accept his resignation... it must've been bad.

CJ didn't bother to knock, storming into Leo's office unannounced.  "Leo."

Leo stood at the other end of the room, staring out his window.  He didn't turn.  "Took you long enough," he said on a sigh.  "I expected you two minutes ago."

CJ inhaled a sharp, preparatory breath, but Josh touched her elbow, asking without words for her to let him take a shot before she eviscerated Leo with several well-placed words.  She gave him an annoyed look and the tiniest of nods.

Josh focused on Leo.  "Who was on the inside?"

Slowly, Leo turned, one hand reaching up to pull off his glasses, the other clutching a familiar piece of paper.  "It was just Toby and the President," he said, and hidden somewhere in there with all the sorrow was a current of anger.  He glanced at CJ, then met Josh's gaze with a little shrug and said, "Social Security."

Oh, Josh thought.  That explained a lot.

"Oh, God," CJ breathed.  "What happened?"

"Gaines talked to the Journal," Leo explained

"How far did Toby go?" Josh asked, considering and rejecting damage control measures.

"He put the retirement age on the table," Leo answered.  "And the Journal knows it."

CJ groaned.  "Polk's deadline is in three hours.  I'm going to need something."

Hands on his hips, Josh paced the width of Leo's office, the probable repercussions piling up in his imagination until he exploded.  "Damn it!"

CJ and Leo turned identical puzzled looks his way.  "What?" Leo demanded.

"We need Social Security," Josh answered.  "We have health care and we have Social Security, and the country's moving to the right on any number of traditionally Democratic issues.  We won in a landslide, but we left Congress behind."

Leo nodded.  "Yeah."

"We need Social Security," Josh repeated, "or we can't get Russell into office, and we sure as hell can't get Congress back.  AARP, the unions -- this hits the front page of the Journal and we lose a good chunk of our base.  The Democratic Party will be irrelevant for a generation!"  Josh threw his hands into the air in frustration.  "What the hell was Toby thinking?"

"He was trying to save Social Security," President Bartlet said, "which would have been a staggering achievement, not to mention an accomplishment that would solidify our base."

Josh whirled to face the President, who stood, frowning, in the door connecting his office to Leo's.

"Mr. President," CJ greeted quietly.  Josh glanced at her, but she still looked angry.

Josh dropped his hands from his hips, affecting a less aggressive stance.  "With all due respect, Mr. President, however noble Toby's goals, he did this wrong and he lost."

"Which doesn't mean he should be the scapegoat," CJ interjected.  "We've all screwed up."

Josh winced, remembering the horrible feeling of being handed an innocuous-looking envelope by Carrick.  "Yes, we have," he admitted.  "But this is..."  He shrugged.

Bartlet flashed a grim smile.  "If only Toby were here to supply several appropriately dire adjectives."

CJ made a wordless sound of irritation.  "Sir, if I may--"

"Why did I accept his resignation?"

"Yes."

"Ask Josh."

Josh shifted uncomfortably.  "Politically--"

"It's Toby," CJ shot back.  "We wouldn't be here without him."

Josh nodded.  "And we wouldn't be facing our own political funerals without him, either."

Bartlet stepped in before CJ could beat Josh with her folio.  "CJ, I would like nothing more than to shred Toby's resignation, but you know him well enough to imagine how immoveable he was once he'd decided on this course."  CJ nodded, but she didn't appear to be fully focused on the President.  He narrowed his eyes and asked, "CJ?"

"Mr. President," she answered, an undercurrent of excitement in her words, "the Journal is going to need a comment, but their deadline isn't for--"  She checked her watch-- "three hours."

Leo looked intrigued.  "What are you suggesting?"

"I withhold news of Toby's--" She nearly choked on the word-- "resignation until the last possible second."

Josh bounced a little on his toes, feeling oddly re-energized now that he knew where CJ was going with this.

"What does that accomplish?" President Bartlet asked.

CJ met Josh's gaze.  "It gives Josh time to fix this."

"Fix this?" Bartlet echoed skeptically.  "Toby isn't exactly a political dunce."

"No," Josh agreed, "he isn't.  But he shouldn't have tried this alone.  Let me talk to him, see what I can do.  At the very least, I might be able to get Gaines to back off in the Journal."

Leo nodded.  "And Toby can concentrate on message calendars for a few weeks instead of his résumé."

After a moment's consideration, Bartlet shifted his gaze to CJ and Josh.  "Well, then, what are you waiting for?"

***

"Try Iota," CJ ordered, marching Josh across the lobby into the operations bullpen.  "Oh, and that horrible little place on M street -- what's it called?"

Josh frowned.  "I think it's -- Donna!"

Donna leaned out of her cubicle, watching their approach with wide eyes.  "Yes?"

"That bar on M street--"

"Janet's Place," Donna interrupted, falling into step with them for the last few feet to Josh's office.  She held out a sticky note.  "He's there.  The bartender said he walked in, ordered a double Scotch, and lit up a cigar, city ordinance be damned."

CJ turned an amazed look Donna's way.  "You found him?" Donna nodded and CJ pulled her into a brief, fierce hug.  "Bless you.  Josh, go."  She took a deep breath and turned toward the other end of the bullpen.  "I've got to deal with Polk."

"Good luck," Josh said absently, shrugging into his overcoat.  "Donna--"

"You need me to coordinate from here," she said with a small, knowing smile.  "I'll call Gaines' office and find out where he is.  Which Democrats--?"

"Brainard," Josh answered, shouldering his backpack and heading for the door.  "Possibly Turner or Douglas-Radford."

Donna nodded, scrawling illegible notes to herself.  "I've got it under control," she told him, stopping at the security desk.  "Good luck."

Josh mustered up his best cocky grin.  "Don't need luck."

Donna rolled her eyes and disappeared into the bullpen.  Josh emerged into the cool evening and pulled his coat tighter, shivering as he walked briskly down the walkway and out the gate.

It took only a minute or two to hail a cab, but Josh was antsy, eager to pin Toby down on what exactly had been said on both sides.  He didn't dare hope they'd be able to solve the problem, but he was a master at what he did, and he was confident he could save Toby's job.

"Sir?" the cabbie prompted.

Josh glanced out the window, surprised to see they'd already reached Janet's.  He paid the fare and hurried inside, pausing to let his eyes adjust.  Josh was convinced Toby favored Janet's not for the selection of alcohol or lax enforcement of the anti-smoking ordinances, but because Janet lit the place almost entirely with small, white candles on each table.  The result was a dark and moody bar, full of dark and moody patrons.

Still, spotting Toby's bald pate wasn't particularly challenging, and Josh didn't bother with niceties.  "Tell me exactly what happened," he ordered, tossing his backpack into the booth before sliding in after it.  "From the beginning."

Toby stared at him, nonplussed.  "Shouldn't you be worrying about the President?"

"That's exactly what I'm doing.  And we don't have much time, so start talking."

"There's nothing you can do, Josh," Toby answered quietly.  "Leave it."

"There is," Josh insisted.

"There's not."

"CJ and I--"

"Anything that starts with 'CJ and I' in the context of my resignation can only end badly.  Leave it."

"Trust me, Toby," Josh implored, his tone uncharacteristically earnest.

Toby watched him with a guarded look for a long moment.  "I'm trying to protect the President."

"So am I," Josh shot back.  "You know if I thought your resignation was the smart move I'd have Donna send you a case of bourbon.  I wouldn't be here if I didn't think I could help.  Tell me."

A waitress appeared at their table with a notepad and an expectant look, and Josh swallowed a rude remark.  She didn't know what she was interrupting.  "Scotch," Josh said.  "Rocks."

Rubbing a hand across his forehead, Toby waited for the waitress to retreat before he began to speak.  The five a.m. phone call, the secrecy -- as the tale unfolded, Josh started to understand how Toby could've thought it was possible.

But, he told himself, the moment was gone.  Both sides had remained intractable.  He sighed, not letting himself imagine what would've happened if Toby'd pulled this off.  "It was a good try, Toby," he admitted.  "But the Republicans were never going to move on privatization."

Toby simply raised his eyebrows.  "He moved."

Josh blinked stupidly, unable to understand what Toby'd just said.  "He moved on privatization?"

"Yes."

Possibilities unfolded in Josh's imagination, strategies and spin and getting something done for once, and he couldn't speak.  He took a sip of his drink, grimaced at the burn, and said, "Toby, do you know what this means?"

"It fell apart, Josh," Toby answered tiredly.  "It's too late."

"No," Josh denied, pulling out his cellphone.  "We've got two and a half hours."

Toby gave Josh the look he'd always flashed at Sam's less stellar moments.  "You think we can solve Social Security in two and a half hours?"

Josh smirked.  "You thought you could do it in a day, and I'm way more arrogant than you are."

Toby snorted and it was almost a laugh.

Josh pressed speed dial and lifted the phone to his ear.  "You in?" he asked Toby.

Toby tossed back the contents of his glass, then pushed it away.  "I don't have any other pressing engagements."

Josh grinned, then said, "Donna, listen -- it's gonna be a crazy couple of hours.  I need Gaines."

***

"Damn it," Josh fumed, swatting a perfectly innocent balustrade with the business end of an impressively thick blue folder.  He hadn't taken the time to toss it in his backpack when Gaines and Turner had reached their stupid impasse.  He'd been afraid if he stayed in the room much longer, he'd explode.

Toby, typically more subdued, merely rolled his eyes at Josh's antics.  "It was a long shot."  He glanced back at the Capitol with an air of mournful resignation, then pulled out a cigar.

"It's not over yet," Josh argued, stepping recklessly into the path of a cab.

"Josh!"

Josh sent Toby a strange look.  "What?"

The way Toby exhaled a stream of smoke perfectly conveyed his irritation.  "Take care not to get yourself killed on my watch, would you?"

Josh considered mocking Toby's (admittedly sensible) fear of CJ, but figured tonight wasn't the best time.  Instead, he yanked the cab door open.  "Let's go."

"Go where, exactly?"

"Work," Josh answered shortly.

"We no longer work together," Toby observed, his attention carefully focused on the cigar in his hand.

"Get in the cab," Josh ordered, impatient.

"Josh--"

"CJ will beat me with, I dunno, her Matrix award if I show up without you.  That thing's small, but it's solid, and it's got all those sharp edges--"

"All right," Toby interrupted, shaking his head even as he slid into the cab.

Josh ignored Toby's grumbling and stared blankly at the familiar scenery slipping past.  There had to be a way to get Gaines and Turner past the sticking point.  They were so close to a resolution, Josh could taste it.

A victory on Social Security would be -- Josh really had no words.  They'd done some things he was damn proud of the last five years, but saving the centerpiece of the New Deal?  That would be one hell of a legacy for the Bartlet Administration.

"Josh."

"Huh?"  He glanced around, saw the familiar gates to the White House.  "Oh."  He paid the driver and slid out of the cab, flashing his badge at the guardhouse.  He pushed at the gate, jerking to a stop when it didn't open.  "What the hell?"

"Josh."

Josh glanced back at Toby, nearly wincing when the carefully neutral expression on Toby's face registered.  Oh.  Right.  Toby's access was gone.  Josh held up one finger.  "Hang on," he ordered, fishing out his cellphone.  "Donna.  Get a pass for Toby so we don't have to stand around out her like a couple of -- Thank you.  Oh, and get CJ in a room with Leo, because we've got about thirty minutes to save Social Security."  Josh tucked his phone away and flashed Toby an unrepentant grin.

"You owe that woman many expensive presents.  You know that, right?"

Josh successfully repressed the inappropriate thoughts Toby's words prompted and went for the joke.  "I think the pleasure of my company is gift enough for any woman."

Toby snorted.  "Do me a favor and run that by CJ when we get in there, because I could use the comic relief."

"Mr. Ziegler?"  The guard approached the gate and opened it.  "You'll need to sign in."

Josh bit back an angry comment and watched, anguished, as Toby nodded and signed the log.  As they walked towards the building, another complication occurred to Josh.  "The logs are public record."

Toby shrugged.  "My resignation will be in the papers tomorrow."

"You misplaced your pass," Josh decided, ignoring Toby's assertion entirely.  There would be no resignation if Josh could help it.

"I didn't misplace it," Toby answered stubbornly.  "I won't lie."

Josh considered, holding the door open for Toby.  "You left it in the building.  Absolutely true."

Toby stopped just inside the door and turned back.  "Josh--"

"Toby, if we fix this, we can't tell anyone you tried to resign."

"I did resign."

"Not if we fix this, you didn't," Josh declared, pushing past Toby and stopping by the guard's desk.  "Pass for Toby Ziegler."

"Josh," Toby started.

"Ask CJ," Josh interrupted before Toby could get going again.  He shoved the pass into Toby's hands.  "She'll back me up on this."

"What will I back you on?" CJ called, doing an about face at the doors to the Communication bullpen.

Josh tilted his head toward Toby.  "Visitor's log.  The knucklehead left his pass in the building."

CJ grinned at Josh.  "Sometimes, my little friend, you're quite brilliant."

"Please," Toby groaned, "don't feed his ego."

Josh ignored Toby.  "Little friend?" he echoed, indignant.

CJ stepped past Josh and linked her arm with Toby's.  "What have I told you about being your first phone call?" she asked far too pleasantly.  Josh recognized her pre-explosion tone and dropped back a couple of paces.

"CJ," Toby tried, "I--"

"No, I'm just wondering what made you wake up and think, hey, maybe I'll single-handedly whack around a political hornet's nest and then resign without telling CJ.  Did it seem like a good idea at the time?"

Toby shot Josh a put-upon look.  "Can we discuss this tomorrow?"  He edged away from CJ and rounded the corner toward Leo's office.

"What's going on?" Leo asked, meeting them at the door.  "C'mon in."

"Social Security," Toby answered blandly.

Josh fought the urge to snicker.  Inappropriate humor was usually his way to deal with an uncomfortable situation, not Toby's.  "Leo, Gaines and Turner are almost on board."

Leo blinked, processing the implications.  "Almost isn't good enough."

CJ gave Toby a wide-eyed look.  "Are you kidding, Leo?  Almost is incredible."

Toby shrugged.  "This is more of a binary thing.  Win or lose.  Doesn't matter how close we came if we end up losing."

"We can win it," Josh insisted, focusing on Leo.  "But..."

Leo read Josh's hesitation and groaned.  "Oh, come on, Josh.  What are we going to have to swallow--?"

"It's not like that," Josh interrupted.

"No," Toby agreed.  "It's really not.  The only thing they both want at this point is to be able to say 'the President came to me first..'"

CJ'd stopped taking notes, staring in awe.  "Really?"

"Yes."

"They dropped privatization?"

"Yes."

She blinked.  "Wow."

"Yes."

Leo shook his head the slightest bit.  "What's the price tag?  Gaines must want something we can give him instead of bragging rights."

CJ scowled a little.  "I can't believe they're going to trash a compromise on Social Security over credit!"

"Political capital," Josh corrected.  "And I think we can get Gaines if we offer--"

"No," Toby interrupted quietly.  Josh thought he recognized that tone that meant Toby was about to do something brilliant yet somehow costly.

"Toby?" Leo prompted.

Toby glanced at Josh before answering.  "CJ's right.  We can't trash this over credit.  If Gaines and Turner need credit, let's give it to them."

Josh tried to protest, but managed only an indignant squawk.  Toby couldn't be serious.

Leo looked about as dumbfounded as Josh felt.

"You can't be serious," CJ said.  "You're suggesting the President not take any credit on this?"

"Toby!" Josh yelped.  "No credit?  If Gaines and Turner go to Wolf Blitzer and say, 'we've solved the biggest political problem of our generation without a bit of help from the White House,' we may as well hang a big sign out front that says 'Irrelevant.'"

"We'd hardly be irrelevant, Josh," Leo argued.  "And the people involved will know the truth.  Gaines is a good guy, and there's no way someone from our own party will slight the President."

Toby glanced at his watch.  "Leo, we need to move.  Is the President in?"

"You know what he'll say," Leo answered, "But I'll go talk to him anyway.  Josh, get Gaines and Turner on the phone, but wait for my confirmation."  He rounded his desk and headed for the door, where he paused and turned back.  "And, guys, this doesn't leave this room.  No leaks, no veiled comments to the press.  If we make this deal, we make it.  Understood?"

Josh discarded about fourteen flip answers before nodding glumly.  "Yes, Leo."

Leo gave them a brief nod.  "Well done."

CJ, Toby, and Josh exchanged bewildered looks.

"Did we really just solve the Social Security problem?" CJ asked.

"We?" Toby echoed with what almost looked like a grin.

She shrugged, unrepentant.  "Whatever.  Does this mean I can rip up your resignation?"

"You'll probably want to wait until we hear back from Leo," Josh observed wryly.  He moved toward the door, already planning his calls to Gaines and Turner.

"Well," Toby said quietly, "How much would you be willing to wager that this is the one secret it turns out this administration will be able to keep?"

CJ gave him a wry grin.  "It's worth it."

Josh nodded, still a little awed by the events of the past couple hours.  "Definitely."

THE END

10.20.04