Sisterly Concerns
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sam/Carol
Spoilers: Up to 100,000 Airplanes to be safe.
Feedback: Makes my day
Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.
Archive: At my site The Band Gazebo (helsinkibaby.ahkay.net) Anywhere else please ask first.
Summary: It's a sister's job to worry…blood relative or not….
Author's Note: This takes place about a week after the State of the Union address.
"Knock, knock."
Sam looked up from his computer to see Carol standing there, leaning against the doorjamb, her arms crossed over her chest. The sight was a familiar one to him by now, but he hadn't grown tired of it, and he was beginning to think that he never would. "Hey," he smiled, leaning back in his chair, motioning to her to come in. "Been there long?" Because in the days leading up to the State of the Union, she could have been standing there for five minutes and more before he'd noticed her. And sometimes, he remembered guiltily, she had.
"Just got here," she replied, walking into the office, leaving the door slightly ajar. He didn't take his eyes off her as she came towards him, dropping gracefully into the chair across from him. "Busy?"
"Working on the United Nations thing," Sam told her, casting his eye quickly to the text on the screen, moving the mouse over the "save" icon and clicking, just in case. "You?"
Carol shook her head. "CJ called a lid two hours ago, and it doesn't look like there's going to be anything going on any time soon." Sam raised an eyebrow at the rampant optimism in that statement, and Carol, grinning over at him, leaned over and knocked on the wood of his desk. "I know, I know…"
"I'm just saying, if there's an international incident in the next couple of hours, I'm blaming it on that statement."
"Yes, because that's going to fly with the President and Leo." She rolled her eyes at him before changing the subject. "You nearly ready to head home?"
Sam considered that for a moment, part of his consideration being when along the line they'd begun going home together every night, not caring whose home they actually ended up in. Not that he minded that per se, he certainly didn't mind going home with Carol every night, and they'd even exchanged keys to one another's apartments to make it easier when they didn't leave the West Wing together.
He didn't mind it. In fact, he liked it. More than liked it.
It was just that in his experience, these things had always been more work, more hassle. More complicated. But not with Carol. Things were simpler with her; they just seemed to fall into place at the right time.
Although not right now.
"I'm in the middle of this…" he said reluctantly, because he really would rather be heading out with Carol than staying here to work on this. But if he didn't work on this, Toby would have his ass on a plate tomorrow morning, and that was something that he didn't want to happen.
Mentally, he wondered how Lisa would have reacted to that statement. Thrown a fit probably - she'd never been too happy when he worked long hours at Gage-Whitney. And he remembered all too well how Mallory had reacted when his work had interrupted their plans for the evening.
Carol, on the other hand, just rolled her eyes and shook her head, but there was a smile on her lips when she did it. "And you want to finish it, right?"
"I'm on a roll," he confirmed.
"Well," Carol sighed theatrically, pulling herself up. "If it's a choice between going home alone and having you all to myself later, or going home with you now and waking up cold and alone at three in the morning…" She let her voice trail off as she came around beside him, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
"I thought you might say that." He didn't let her get away with a kiss on the cheek, catching the back of her head as she tried to straighten up, moving his head so that his lips caught hers.
It wasn't a long kiss, nor even a particularly passionate one. Both were conscious of the bullpen outside, still reasonably active even at this hour of the night. Both were also conscious of the open blinds and the door ajar, and the fact that Toby was in his office next door. But still, both were smiling when they separated, and Carol's cheeks were pink. "I'll see you later?" she asked, but they both knew that it wasn't really a question.
"Count on it." She was halfway across the room when he called out, "Want me to bring dinner?"
Carol pondered it a moment. "Sure," she said. "Just don't be late."
"I promise." She closed the door behind her and he stared at it for a moment before going back to work.
>*<*>*<
The smile stayed on Carol's face as she made her way through the bullpen and back towards her desk. She was almost there when she met Margaret, coming from the direction in which she was going. The tall redhead stopped dead when she saw Carol approaching, and waited for her to come within earshot. "There you are," was the first thing she said.
"You're looking for me?"
"Yeah, just a quick word…" Carol stood waiting, one eyebrow raised, for Margaret to go on. Instead, her friend looked around furtively, as if she was afraid that someone would overhear them. "It's kind of sensitive…"
Carol frowned, knowing that this could either be very simple or very complicated - you never quite knew with Margaret. "C'mon," she said simply, resigned to not getting out of the West Wing in the foreseeable future. "We can talk at my desk."
Margaret followed her, not saying another word until she'd sat down on the chair beside Carol's, pulling it as close to Carol as she possibly could. "I've been meaning to talk to you for a couple of days now, but I didn't want to do it when there was someone else around," she began, keeping her voice down, as if she was afraid that the walls did indeed have ears.
Carol frowned again. "What's wrong Margaret?"
"I'm fine," Margaret told her quickly, holding up a hand. "And things are ok with you and Sam, right?"
Carol grinned; she couldn't help it. "Yes."
Normally, Margaret would have given her hell for her reaction, but today she just steamrollered right on. "So you see, we're both good. And I didn't want to talk to Bonnie about this, because, frankly, I think she's too close to see anything if you know what I mean, and I can't ask Donna because the whole thing is too awkward still, but I wanted to know if you'd noticed it too."
It took Carol a second to decipher that sentence, and even when she did, she was still no closer to uncovering what in the world Margaret meant. So the next best thing to ask seemed to be, "Noticed what?"
Margaret looked around once more, as if someone had snuck up behind them unannounced, then leaned in close again. "Ginger."
"What about her?" Carol was still none the wiser.
"It's just…she's been quiet lately. Withdrawn, I think, is more of a better word. As if there's been something weighing on her mind. And I was wondering if you'd noticed it too."
"I haven't really been talking to Ginger recently." Carol shifted in her seat uncomfortably, vague feelings of guilt creeping up in her. "With the State of the Union, and the censure, we've all been so busy…"
"I know." Margaret was nodding vigorously. "And I think that's why we might have missed it for so long? But I think she's been out of sorts for a while."
It didn't take long for Carol to catch up. "Like since New Year's for example?"
Margaret nodded again. "Exactly."
"How's Donna been?" Carol asked, biting her fingernail thoughtfully.
"Donna's been Donna. Doing her work, complaining about Josh, pretending the New Year never happened as far as I can see. But Ginger…"
"Yeah." Carol sighed. "She still here?"
Margaret shook her head. "I looked for her earlier. Bonnie said she went home an hour ago."
"And Toby let her?" Toby was legendary for keeping his assistants late.
"Bonnie said he just waved her out of his office and let her go."
Carol couldn't keep the shocked expression off her face. "I'll keep an eye on her. Try to get her on her own some time," she promised.
"Will you?" Margaret looked relieved. "Because I know you two have been close since the campaign, and I didn't want it to look like I was prying…"
"It's fine Margaret. Really."
"OK. See you tomorrow." With that, Margaret was on her way, and Carol was left packing up her desk, the smile that had been on her face long since forgotten.
>*<*>*<
The smile still wasn't back on her face when she got home, her earlier good mood having all but totally disappeared. Sighing, she made her way into her room, pulling off her work clothes and pulling on her favourite pair of old sweats. Casting around for a jumper to wear, she found an old Duke sweatshirt that Sam had left there the previous week, and, after a moment's consideration, pulled it over her head. It still smelled like him, and she closed her eyes, hugging herself briefly, imagining that he was here with her. It was silly, she knew that, but it made her feel better. Shaking herself, she ran a brush through her long dark hair before pulling it up in a messy ponytail before going back out to the living room, only then noticing the red light blinking on the answering machine.
Pressing the button, she heard that she had one new message, and she grinned as her sister's voice filled the room. "Hello? Hello? I'm not sure if I've got the right number…" Tessa's voice was filled with mirth. "But the thing is, my sister Carol used to live there, and she even used to call me once in a while, when she felt like it. Maybe if you know where she's gone to, you can give me a call back?"
"Well, that's a hint," she muttered, shaking her head, picking up the phone and punching in the number she knew by heart. "Hey you," she said when Tessa picked up, only to hear silence on the other end.
Then, "Carol? Is that really you? You're alive?"
She rolled her eyes at the sarcasm, flopping down on the couch, covering her eyes with one hand. "Very funny Tess."
"Not very funny Carol… how long has it been since you called me?"
She was still teasing, but Carol knew that Tessa had a point. "I'm sorry Tess," she said contritely. "We've had a lot going on here…you might have heard that little speech that the President had to give last week? Little thing called the State of the Union?"
"Yeah, yeah, there's always something…" But Tessa laughed when she said it. "I saw it you know. I thought he did great."
"You and sixty nine per cent of the American people." Try as she might, and she didn't try very hard she had to admit, Carol couldn't keep the pride out of her voice. Not only had she thought the State of the Union was a fantastic speech, delivered as well as the President was capable of delivering it, but it had, after all, been partly written by her boyfriend. Plus, she and all her friends and colleagues had worked long hours helping with that speech, and as far as she was concerned, it was great that their hard work had been rewarded as it had.
"Yeah, that was some bump. You guys must've partied all night."
Images of people dancing in the bullpen flooded Carol's mind. Josh trying to tango with Joey Lucas as Donna watched on from the sidelines. Toby and CJ dancing crazily together as Ginger and Bonnie talked, Ginger's back to the dancing couple. Margaret's words came back to her, and she wondered for a second if Ginger's back had been accidentally turned. "We certainly did," she said, as those images were pushed out of her mind by the vision of Sam at his desk, looking so despondent, so out of sorts compared to everyone else. Then she remembered the feel of his lips on hers, his shirt under her hands as she kissed him in his office…
"Carol? You still there?" Tessa's voice brought her back to reality, and her cheeks flushed red, and not just with embarrassment.
"Sorry…spaced out for a minute there…"
"So, let me get this straight…" Carol could picture Tessa on the other end of the phone, ticking items off an imaginary checklist. "You've been avoiding calling me, or you've been too busy. You space out in the middle of a phone conversation, and when you come back down to earth, you sound all embarrassed and girly…"
"I do not!"
Too late Carol heard the smirk in her sister's voice, and realised what she was trying to do. "And you get all defensive and shrieking when you're asked about it." There was a pause as she tried to give Carol a little more rope. "What's his name?"
"What makes you think that there's someone?" Carol hadn't told any of her family about Sam yet, although if she had been going to tell someone, it would have been Tessa. She and Carol were only a little under two years apart in age, and they'd always been close. But she and Sam were still new, still figuring out where they were going, or so she'd thought, and she didn't want to say too much, didn't want to jinx it.
Plus, she knew what she was going to have to deal with when she did tell her family that she was seeing someone.
"A sister knows these things," was Tessa's airy response. "C'mon Big Sis…spill it. Who is he, and what's he like?"
Carol sighed, knowing that there was no way out of this. "OK… I'll tell you," she sighed, curling her legs up underneath herself, pulling a cushion onto her lap.
"Ooh, let me get comfortable…ok, off you go."
She had to take another deep breath before she could begin. "Right…first of all, we work together."
"He works in the White House?"
"Yep. We've worked together since the campaign, we just never… we'd never really talked I guess. And then we were at this New Year's party…"
"Woah, woah, woah there. Back up a second. I need a name, details."
"His name's Sam."
"Nice name. And? What does he look like?"
Carol could see him, arms waving in the air, jaw set as he argued about something or other with someone in the White House. Saw him throwing something to be sent out on Bonnie or Ginger's desk, only to grab it from their hands seconds later to check one little thing. She saw his face tired, or worried, or grief stricken. Saw him laughing over being caught with her in the mess by the President, as they stared at one another like love-struck teenagers. Saw him standing in her doorway, smiling, proud that he'd managed to get her a bouquet of roses on New Year's Day.
And she knew that words couldn't do him justice. "He's six feet tall. Dark hair, short now. Blue eyes you could drown in. A smile that could melt ice…"
She stopped when Tessa began laughing. "I get it, I get it. Certified dreamboat, right?"
"Yeah." Carol's voice was quiet, and she twisted the phone cord in between her fingers. "But what he really is, is nice."
"Oh see, that's not fair. He can't be good-looking and nice. That's against the rules." Tessa was joking, but when Carol didn’t reply, she sobered up. "Carol, does he know?"
Carol nodded, resisting the impulse to pull the sleeves of Sam's sweatshirt down over her hands with some difficulty. It was a habit that she had, one that she'd been trying for years to break, hiding the evidence of her past insecurities. She only ever did it when she was nervous, or when there was something on her mind. Or sometimes, when she was remembering that night.
"Yeah, he knows," she admitted. "We were talking at the party, just small talk, you know? I was feeling left out, being the only sober person there, and he was drinking, but he wasn't drunk…and he saw them."
Them. Her deep secret, the one subject that was completely taboo in her otherwise very open family. They could talk about anything with each other, but not about that night. They talked around it, using code, using euphemisms. Never talking about what had really happened, trying to forget. As if she ever could. As if she wanted to.
"What did he do?" Tessa's voice was as low as her sister's.
"He looked so shocked Tess…I couldn't even look at him. So I ran. And he followed me. Didn't even ask me what had happened, he just left it up to me. And I don't know why I felt so comfortable with him…but I told him everything."
"Everything?"
"Yep. And when I was finished, he was holding my hand." She chuckled. "I don't even remember when he started holding it. That's when we heard the party counting down to midnight…and that's when he kissed me for the first time."
"That's sweet."
"He really is."
Carol was blushing slightly, but it was nothing compared to the colour on her cheeks when Tessa asked her next question. "So what happened next? Did you go home with him?"
"No." Carol squirmed for a second before admitting, "He came home with me."
"Carol!" Her sister's squeal forced her to hold the phone away from her ear for a moment.
"C'mon Tess, it's not like I'm a kid. And we've known each other for years, it's not like he was some stranger from the street." She paused. "The next day, he sent me flowers to the office. A dozen red roses."
"He got you red roses on New Year's Day?" Tessa's voice was incredulous. "I have got to meet this guy."
"Hands off, he's mine."
"OK, no need to fight with me. So things are still going well with Prince Charming?"
Carol nodded. "I think…he's…he's not like other guys Tess. He makes me feel…I don't know…safe. Contented. Happy."
"He's the real thing, huh?"
"He just might be."
The sisters shared a moment of silence. "What does he do? In the White House, I mean? Is he a lawyer or something?"
"Not exactly." It was Carol's turn to twist uncomfortably again. "He's the Deputy Communications Director. Sam Seaborn. They put him out on a lot of the…"
"He was on the morning news shows after the shooting." Tessa broke across her words, and Carol winced, knowing that Tessa, hell, her entire family had stayed up all night, even after they knew that she was safe, just in case there were any other threats to the President or the White House. "I do remember him. Carol, he's gorgeous!"
"I know." Carol couldn't keep the smirk out of her voice.
"Hang on a second…" Tessa's voice changed, suspicion entering in. "Sam Seaborn…isn't he the one…"
Carol closed her eyes, knowing what was coming.
"He was in the paper. With the hooker."
"Call girl."
The correction was automatic for Carol, but she could hear Tessa's jaw drop on the other end of the line. "Your boyfriend, this Prince Charming, sleeps with hookers and you're acting like it's no big deal?"
"He met her once in a bar," Carol argued. "He didn't know what she did for a living, and no money exchanged hands. Once he did find out, he wanted to stay friends with her, and that's what he did. It was strictly platonic, he didn't do anything wrong. It shouldn't have even been a story."
"OK, I'm willing to buy that." There was still an unhealthy amount of scepticism in her voice as far as Carol was concerned, but her attention was diverted when Tessa continued. "But what's Jimmy going to say?"
Carol groaned, burying her head in her hands. "I'm hoping he won't find out about that part," she admitted.
"Carol, are you kidding me? He's going to type this guy's name into a search engine to see what he comes up with once he hears what he does, and if that's all he does, you'll be lucky. You know what he gets like."
"It'll be ok." Carol wasn't sure who she was trying to convince. "He'll meet Sam, he'll like him, and that won't even matter."
"If you say so…"
At that moment, Carol heard a key turning in the lock, heard a voice calling out, "It's me."
"That's Sam," she said into the phone.
"He has his own key?"
"Yeah. Look, I'm going to have to…"
"Go have hot sex with your boyfriend? Don't let me keep you."
Carol laughed and shook her head. "I'll call tomorrow."
"OK, talk to you then."
She hung up the phone, laying it down on the coffee table, dropping her head into her hands for a second, but only a second. She could hear Sam moving around in her kitchen, opening and closing presses, and the smell of food was beginning to waft through the apartment. An audible growl from her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since lunchtime, so she made her way into the kitchen.
"Hey." She went over to the table, inspecting his purchases, looking down at the cartons of food there.
"I was in the mood for Thai…I hope that's ok…"
"It's fine." She could hear the distracted tone in her voice, and didn't miss the pause before he spoke again.
"Who was that on the phone?" There was a bottle of wine in one of his hands and two glasses in the other, and he bumped the fridge door closed his hip as he came back over to her. "I didn't want to interrupt you…"
"Just Tessa," she told him, and she could see the quick light of recognition in his eyes. "I told her about you."
"Ah." Sam laid down the glasses, looking at her without saying anything further for a long moment. She frowned at his gaze, looked down at the table, didn't even see him coming over to her. "And what did she say?" he asked, and as he did, he reached out to her arms, gently pushing the sleeves of the sweatshirt back up from over her hands, holding them there for a second. She blinked in surprise, not having realised that she'd pulled them down, not having realised that he'd noticed it was a habit of hers. And when she looked up at him, she realised that he looked almost nervous.
"Well, she wants to meet you," she said honestly. "And I had to warn her to keep her hands off." She slipped her arms around his waist as she talked, smiling up at him, and it seemed to have the effect that she was after, because his arms looped around her too, and he smiled down at her.
"Sounds interesting…"
"I thought you'd like it…" She kissed his lips quickly once, before turning to the food. "So, what's for dinner?"
His hands were still on her hips as she faced away from him, and he didn't say anything for a second. "Carol?" His voice was quiet, doubtful.
"Yeah?"
"If there was something wrong…if there was something worrying you… you'd tell me, right? I mean, you wouldn't keep it a secret…"
She closed her eyes, leaning back against him, and his arms closed around her waist. "I'm fine Sam," she told him, craning her neck around so that she could partially see him.
"It's just…" His fingers were playing with the cuffs of her sweatshirt and she knew what he was thinking.
And she knew that she had to tell him. "Tess remembered your name. From the different news shows. And from the photograph."
"Ah."
"And she was a bit surprised."
"Ah."
She turned in his arms, her arms going around his neck. "I set her straight Sam, and she believed me."
He let out a relieved sigh. "Well, that's something."
"She did however wonder what our older brother was going to say about it."
"He's not going to be happy?"
"He doesn't get a vote Sam. I'm happy. You make me happy. And if he can't accept that, then that's his problem." She pulled him close to her, resting her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as his hands ran up and down her back.
"That's good," he whispered, and his breath hit against her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "Because you make me happy too."
She grinned at his words and pulled back, kissing his lips quickly. Then, without a word to him, just a nod to the table, she picked up some of the containers and led the way into the living room where they curled up in each other's arms for the rest of the night.