November the sixth, 2010 was a dark and dismal day. The rain started as a drizzle as dawn broke and by late evening the streets were awash with water.

For the Democratic Party, however, it was a good night. It seemed Josh’s predictions were true. Republicans were less likely to vote in the rain.

President John Hoynes was re-elected for a second term in a landslide. As he took the podium in the Briefing Room and made his victory speech, Sam Seaborn was in New Hampshire celebrating with his family.

Sam had a victory of his own. He was elected for the first time to the United States Senate, as representative for New Hampshire. His smile, and the kiss he shared with his wife, said it all.

A little after midnight, it was further announced that the Democrats had taken a majority in both the Senate and the House.

At the Farm in New Hampshire, Leo, Jed and CJ raised their glasses and toasted their friend.

In Washington, Margaret answered the phone and handed it to her husband. Two minutes later he was practically grinning as he announced he was Chief of Staff to the Senator Elect.

In Cambridge, Massachusetts, Josh bounded out of his seat and danced around the room, lifting his wife into the air and spinning her around.

Sam showed his ID to the guard at the desk and waited. It had been a long time since he’d last set foot in the White House. Even longer since it had anything to do with work.

Janine had promised him a few moments with the President. She had been a little reluctant at first, asking all sorts of questions. Eventually his charm had won her over.

“Senator Seaborn?” Janine called across the lobby.

Sam gave her his heart-breaking grin and took the proffered pass from the guard.

“If you’d like to follow me, the President will be free in a few moments,” she explained, motioning towards the Oval Office.

Very little had changed, Sam noted, as he followed her down the corridor. The paintings of course, and the staff but the décor was still the same, as was the air of awe that they had all succumbed to every day they had worked there.

The door to the Oval Office was open, the President leaning over Janine’s desk.

“Were you looking for something, Sir?”

John Hoynes turned quickly, a sheepish grin on his face. “My copy of the speech.”

“It’s being rewritten, Sir,” she offered, circling her desk. “I can chase it up.”

He nodded and turned to the man in the doorway. “Senator.”

“Mr. President.”

“Please, come in. How are Eleanor and Emma?”

Sam allowed himself the small indulgence of a grin. “Very good, Sir. Emma is six this year, and unfortunately she takes after her grandfather.”

John shook his head and smiled. He could only imagine which genes the child had inherited and Sam was definitely in for trouble.

Once they were inside and the office door closed, John settled himself in an arm chair and motioned for Sam to take the couch. “So Sam, what can I do for you?”

“I need your help, Mr. President,” Sam began, wondering if perhaps he was taking liberties coming to the President and asking for a favor. It wasn’t as if the Bartlet staff had been overly congenial with the former Vice President. The favor though was important, and not just to him. Sam needed to do it, he owed it to the people he cared about most and it wasn’t as if he had an infinite amount of time.

Sam remained standing, rocking backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet. He stopped abruptly when he realized what he was doing.

“Which committee?”

“Sir?” Sam asked, somewhat confused.

“Which committee do you need a recommendation for?” John repeated. Sam had been extremely helpful on the Internet Bill and the least he could do was give him a little help in return. Besides, John would find it beneficial to have someone he knew on the inside.

“No, Sir. This isn’t about me.” He took a deep breath. “I’m here about H-Con 172.”

There was a uncomfortable silence as realization hit the President. The new Senator could only be there about one thing and one thing alone. “You want me to expunge the censure?”

“I would, in fact, like your support, Mr. President. I’m a junior senator from New Hampshire.”

“You’re married to his daughter, Sam,” John retorted, incredulously.

“Which is why I’m coming to you, Sir.” He couldn’t instigate the resolution himself but he could, and would, do the leg work. “I’m not doing this because he’s my father-in-law or even because I was part of that Administration.”

“Then why?” John needed to hear the reasons, more so to be sure that they were the right ones, than to make a decision.

Sam took a deep breath. “President Bartlet stood before Congress, he allowed members of his own party to vote freely, and he took the censure standing up.”

“And we all had to live with it.”

“May I speak freely, Sir?”

John waved his hand.

“President Bartlet made a mistake in withholding his illness. He apologized, he took the reprimand and he came back a better man. He won his second term on merit. He proved he was the best man for the Presidency. I, more than anyone, was pretty mad at him when I found out, but when he won that night, no one could have been prouder.” Sam paused. “He kept us out of a war, he made education the cornerstone of this country. That should be his legacy, not a document in the Presidential records.”

“I’m not sure there’s a protocol for this,” John offered, grimly.

“In 1834, a Whig Senate “censured” Democratic President Andrew Jackson, he of the cheese fame, in retaliation for his withholding documents. Three years later, a Democratic Senate “expunged” the censure from the record.”

John ran his hands through his hair and scratched his scalp. “You realize the Republicans are going to tear me limb from limb for this.”

“You’re the President, Sir, for another three years, they can get in line.”

A small wry smile twitched at the corner of the President’s lips. Sam was right.

“Or we could have Leo go before Congress and give them the Big Block of Cheese speech,” Sam offered, grinning.

The President raised an eyebrow. “What do you need me to do?” He motioned for the eager young Senator to take a seat. Call him crazy, but he was looking forward to clearing his debts with the old Administration.

They had kept his secret and paved the way for him to win election in 2006.There had been plenty of opportunity to leak the fact he was a recovering alcoholic, or even to endorse another candidate. The Senior staff, and more importantly, the President, had offered him their full support, even going so far as to actively campaign for him. He owed them the same support.

There was also Leo. Despite their all too frequent discussions, Leo was a good friend. He offered his support when times were bad and during the second term, he had brought John into the fold. The censure had been as much a blot on Leo’s record as the President’s.

Sam settled back against the candy striped cushions. “I’m not sure. A joint resolution signed by yourself?”

“Okay, leave it with me. I’ll speak to the Counsel’s office and get back to you.”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” Sam said, standing and holding out his hand for the President to shake.

It had taken a week for the President to speak to the relevant people and call Sam back.

A week in which Sam thought he was going to get forgotten.

When his phone had rung and Ginger had patched the call through, Sam had been more than a little surprised. The lengthy conversation that followed had left him with more than a little work to do. Not that he minded, he was finally going to do something worthwhile.

His first step had been to bring Toby on board, who had then brought Andi on board. Richardson and the Black Caucus had taken a little longer, but that gave Sam the leverage he needed to get the Leadership’s backing.

Sam and Toby decided that it was too early to tell the family. If they couldn’t pull it off their disappointment would be bad enough without dashing Jed’s hopes all over again. Instead they worked in secret, making late night calls and spending every free moment behind the scenes bartering.

The head count was increasing by the day. Old friends rallied around to support Sam and the President. More and more democrats who had sat back and watched the Bartlet Healthgate unfold, backed his pledge to wipe the slate clean. The censure hadn’t been good for the Democratic party and the memory of it was still raw. This way, not only would they have control of legislation, but their tainted history would be erased.

By the time Congress returned from it’s Christmas break, the vote had been scheduled.

*~*~*~*

Sam picked up the phone on his desk and dialled the familiar number for the farm.

“Bartlet Residence,” CJ said, as she grabbed the receiver from where it had been discarded on the hall table.

“CJ, it’s Sam. I need you to turn on the television,” he declared. “There’s going to be a vote and they’re carrying it live.”

“What vote?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve got to go,” he babbled as Toby stood in the doorway taping his watch. “I’m sure we’ll talk later.”

CJ listened as the phone went dead. Shrugging, she made her way into the family room and turned on the television.

“Who was that?” Jed asked from his armchair in front of the fireplace.

“Sam. I think he’s finally lost the plot,” she grinned, sitting on the floor between his feet and leaning back against his legs. “We have to watch the vote.”

“I can think of other things we could be doing.” He placed his hands on CJ’s shoulders and began to lightly rub away the knots.

They watched as Sam entered the chamber and took his seat. He was still un-mistakable with his dark hair, lightly speckled with grey, and his good looks.

The role call was already under way.

“Hastings.”

“Yea.”

“Horner.”

“Yea.”

“CJ,” Jed whined. “This was dull enough in office, must you inflict it on me now?”

CJ patted his leg and tilted her head to look up at him. “Well, if you’re really good, and don’t whine too much, I’ll make you an egg cream later.”

“A CJ egg cream?” he asked hopefully, his fingers tangling themselves in her hair. Just because he approaching seventy didn’t mean he was dead from the waist down.

She shook her head as the Whip called out Seaborn and she heard his familiar yea.

The picture on the screen changed to the House of Representatives and the role call taking place there.

“What the hell?” CJ yelled, sitting up straighter.

“We don’t see the American government at work better than this, “Mark Gottfried announced, his picture appearing at the bottom of the screen. “The vote you see tonight, in both houses is a joint resolution. The count as it stands is 58 to 34 in the Senate and 240 to 80 in favor in the House.”

“What’s the damn vote about?” CJ growled at the screen.

“The resolution is to expunge resolution H-Con 172,” Mark continued.

CJ gasped and turned from her place on the floor to look at Jed.

His eyes were wide and glistening as he stared at the screen. They both knew what the resolution was. It had lived with them through some of the worst days of the Administration and now, he didn’t want to believe it.

“Jed?” she asked softly, leaning up and turning his face to look at her. “Are you okay?”

“I can’t. . . believe. . .CJ. . .Sam,” he mumbled, as the first tear fell onto his cheek. The censure had been the hardest and the easiest thing he had ever had to do. He had taken an official reprimand for keeping his health private and as Abbey had often said, it led to him almost having a nervous breakdown. She in turn had forfeited her medical licence. It had saved Leo having to testify about his relapse, a relapse that had remained secret until this day. Leo had, for once, allowed him to take one for the team, for him.

“Do you want to be alone?” CJ asked, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his cheek. “I can fix you a drink, or take a walk.” He had to be thinking about Abbey. She was so tied up with that period of time that Sam’s gesture would remind him of her sacrifice. And that was something no one could erase.

His fingers closed around her hand and he pulled it to her lips. “Stay.”

CJ dropped back onto her knees and took his free hand in hers. “Spanky did good, really good.”

“That’s your step son-in-law you’re addressing there, Senator Seaborn, future President Seaborn,” Jed mock-grumbled.

“I’ll attest to the last two but the first. . .” She waved their hands.

“He would be if you married me.” He stopped and paused for a few moments, debating whether to say what he needed to say.

CJ looked at him expectantly, his proposal stunning her into silence.

“I brought the censure on all of us. . . I created the madness, the chaos. . .but you all stood by me. However angry you were. Not one of you walked away, not even Sam, really. But it never went away, it was always there. Sam has done something amazing, and when I phone him later, I’ll tell him how much it means.” He sighed. “I still made a mistake and lied. I don‘t deserve to have it expunged. And just because it’s no longer on record doesn’t mean I will ever be able to forget. . .”

“Jed?”

“Look, you’ve been home a year and we’ve . . .Claudia Jean, if I die, I want to rest easy knowing that you’re taken care of. So just marry me, okay?”

She gazed up at him, her eyes dancing. “Okay.”

“See, that wasn’t so bad now was it?”

“I just accepted your proposal and you’re reverting to sarcasm,” she snorted.

He pulled her by her hands until she was practically in his lap. “I love you.” He glanced back at the screen and grinned. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, well you and Sam.”

She rolled her eyes as he bent forward and kissed her hungrily on the lips.

As they broke apart, his eyes fluttered shut as he thought about Abbey and how she would approve. She had long ago told him that smart people who loved him would have his back, what he hadn’t realized then was how right she was. One of them was going to be his wife, another had given him back his reputation.

He opened his eyes and grinned at CJ. “So can I have my egg cream now?”

Carol pulled the covers up over her daughter’s shoulders and leaned in to kiss her head.

Lilly was her miracle baby, the child she had been told she‘d never have. Her children were both miracles really. Ben had turned five less than a week ago, and in a month they would celebrate the anniversary of his adoption. There was a woman out there somewhere who had given him up to them, and it was a gift they could never repay. When he was old enough, they would tell Ben the truth.

Lilly had been born exactly seven months to the day that Ben was brought home. She had completed their family.

Leo doted on his children, and his wife, endlessly, showering them with gifts and spending every moment he could watching them grow up.

Moving to New Hampshire had been good for both of them, enabling Leo to escape the rumor mill of DC, and to raise their children in the country. For Carol, it ensured she could be a stay-at-home mom. Nearly six years later, they couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

“Carol?” Leo called softly from the door way.

She turned slowly and her breath caught at the sight of him. “What’s wrong?” she pleaded, crossing to him and wiping the lone tear from his cheek.

Leo’s eyes were misted over and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She had only seen him like that twice before - the day Lilly was born and the day he became a grandfather.

“On the news,” he stammered, allowing her to guide him back to their bedroom. “Sam.”

Her bare feet fled down the hallway and into the bedroom. Carol imagined the worse. Sam was a senator, anything could have happened, and she wasn’t sure if the family could handle another loss. She turned up the volume on the television. She didn’t hear the full report, catching only the few simple words that explained Leo’s face.

“Oh Leo,” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his neck.

“I didn’t want him to take the censure. I begged him not to. It was my job to take the fall for him not the other way around. But once he’d made up his mind. . .”

Carol had discovered the truth about the Congressional hearings shortly before their wedding, understanding what Abbey had meant when she talked about the President and Leo’s relationship. It was something they never discussed.

“It damn near broke him, Carol.”

“It’s over.”

He shook his head, understanding Jed better than anyone. “It’ll never be over. He’ll always beat himself up over this. But this will make him happy.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, lifting her head to look at him.

“Sam, despite everything, never quite forgave him for concealing the truth. Sure, Jed apologized and Sam became part of the family, but he always harbored anger,” Leo explained, holding his wife against his chest. “I think he’s finally forgiven Jed.”

Carol wasn’t sure that was true, or if she would ever really understand the relationship between the President and his inner circle but it didn’t matter. “You need to phone him.” She didn’t specify which him, the chances were he would phone both of them.

Leo placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and made his way to the bedside phone. He needed to make his calls quickly before the press started calling, begging for interviews. Interviews that for once, the family would willingly give.

Carol watched from the doorway as Leo shakily dialled a number. Smiling, she took the phone from his hand and dialled the farm before handing it back and going to check on Ben.

Donna dropped onto the couch and tucked her feet under her. Picking up the remote, she began to flick through the hundred or so channels, Josh had insisted on, in the hope of finding something vaguely watchable. She almost missed it, but catching the word Bartlet, she flicked back.

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Josh, come see this,” she called.

“Donna?” He ran into the room, his shirt open, one sock on, one sock hanging off his foot. “What’s wrong?”

“Look.” She couldn’t say anything else.

Josh turned to look at the television screen, his eyes drawn to the two inch caption at the bottom of the screen. He reached for the remote, turning the volume up.

“. . . A Joint Resolution of the Senate and House tonight expunged the 2002 Censure of former President Josiah Bartlet. H-Con 172 was voted upon after the President concealed the news that he had MS. It is understood that President Hoynes will sign off on the Resolution tonight. We hope to have reactions for you soon,” the blonde haired anchor concluded.

Tears welled in Josh’s eyes as he stared at the screen. For the majority of people it was meaningless, but for a select group of people around the country it was probably the single most extraordinary thing Hoynes, sorry President Hoynes, had ever done.

“Sam?” Donna asked quietly, moving towards him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Was this down to Sam?”

It was the only possible conclusion. Of course there would be others. Andi in the House, Richardson. They still had friends there.

“Yeah,” he managed to mutter after what seemed like minutes. “I need to speak to him.” His thanks to Sam were not for the President or even himself, but for Leo. He’d argued with Leo about taking the censure, knew how much it had hurt him not to be able to sacrifice himself for the President. Yet, they had never discussed this, never contemplated that someone would be able to do the impossible and put history right.

Donna shook her head. Da Men were going to be awhile. Tonight the three of them would be victorious, in a few days at the farm they would celebrate properly. Josh would need a pint of milk that night and more than a few Advil in the morning, but she would let him, just this once. “Tell Sam. . .,” she paused and smiled. “Tell Sam, he deserves the finest coffee and bagels in the land.”

“’K,” Josh grinned his trade mark grin before kissing her on the forehead and heading to his study to make the call, oblivious to his state of dress. There were times like this that he wished he was back in Washington, working with Sam, instead of in Cambridge, teaching. Of course then Sam’s little coup wouldn’t have been such a secret.

Toby watched the roll call play out as he paced Sam’s office liked a caged animal. He wanted to be in the chamber or in New Hampshire. Watching and not being able to do anything was making him crazy.

The screen jumped back to the Senate Chamber as the final Senator announced his vote.

Toby stopped moving and threw his pen in the air as the sound of cheering filtered from down the hallway.

“Ginger?”

“Yes, Toby,” she grinned, appearing in the doorway.

“You’re celebrating,” he growled and she hid her glass behind her back.

“We should wait, right? Because, you know, it could be a miscount or something,” she sassed. “Or you know, we could lose in the House, because the count‘s only at 300 yeas.”

He glared at her and she stuck her tongue out.

“We won, Toby.”

A wry smile crossed his face and he waved her away. The grin widened as the announcement came on the screen. His eyes darted from side to side and he rocked backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet. They had actually done it.

Toby dug into his inside pocket and pulled out his notepad. Flicking through, he located the page he wanted. He picked up his pen and scrawled three lines across “Get Censure expunged.” There was only one thing left on his list now and that was something he intended to do in three years. Something he needed to get Sam on board for soon.

Ginger stuck her head around his office door, her face mirroring his own emotions. “Margaret’s on line two.”

He nodded and pressed the flashing red light. “Hey, Red.”

“Should I be concerned that my husband is so adept at keeping secrets?” she asked, her voice betraying the teasing behind her words.

“There’s a little thing called tempting fate.”

Ginger shook her head, a grin firmly fixed across her features before she slipped silently back to the party.

“Yes, Shortstop,” Margaret chuckled. “And I’m guessing you had quite a hand in this.”

Sam would want to celebrate, and as much as Toby would like to get drunk and celebrate, Margaret’s use of his pet name told him that if he went home he was going to have an even better night. “I may have talked to one or two people.”

“You did good, Toby,” she purred, her voice suddenly becoming husky. “So I thought you deserved a treat. It’s red, lacy and. . .”

Toby scratched his head and growled, “Margaret!” If it wasn’t so imperative that he waited for Sam, he could head home. It was a thirty minute drive across town and if she carried on talking the chances of him making it were slim.

“Stockings, Toby.”

He made a strange strangulated sound in his throat as he clutched the phone closer. His wife, mother of his children was embarking on phone sex, which wasn’t entirely unusual, just a little awkward while he was in the Senator’s office. There was also the fact she had ulterior motives. Margaret had decided she wanted to extend their little family. It seemed that three nine-year-olds weren’t enough, she wanted more. Toby was slightly less keen. He loved children, but considering he wasn’t getting any younger and the finances were stretched already, it seemed a little silly to increase the stress.

“And heels, Toby. I’m laying on. . .”

“I’m leaving now,” he grumbled, stuffing a hand in his pocket and adjusting his trousers. Something told him, Margaret was going to get her way.

Sam left the chamber and walked out into the cold November air. It would be Thanksgiving in a few days and he would travel to New Hampshire for what promised to be a very special holiday. It was traditional, every year the whole extended family gathered in Manchester for the holidays, and this year was no exception.

Even as he headed back to his office, he knew the Resolution was on its way to The White House.

The President was going to wait in the Oval Office and sign it tonight. Janine would photocopy the document and Fed Ex a copy to Sam in the morning.

He couldn’t wait to see the look on his father-in-law’s face when he handed him the document containing the Presidential seal.

Somewhere else in the Capitol building a clerk was locating the original entry, circling H-Con 172 in black ink and writing “expunged” across the face of it. The remaining black mark on the Bartlet Administration had finally been removed. It was, as CJ liked to say, a Full Lid.