***
This was, as Toby would say, "the proverbial It."
Sam was as ready as he ever would be. Dark blue suit, crisp white shirt, blue
silk tie that matched his eyes, according to Nina, and wouldn't bleed on
television, according to C.J. Shoes polished, soles scuffed on the concrete, as
per Josh's instructions, to prevent slipping.
Yeah, falling on his ass in front of the Chief Justice would suck.
The morning was crisp and clear, and he wore a black overcoat and gloves. So did
Nina, concealing the incredibly beautiful royal blue silk suit that would look
amazing in photographs once they got back indoors. Gary had still been putting
the hem in it three days ago, and just this morning he had changed the buttons
on the jacket. Nina had been too busy dressing Helen to notice or care what was
going on with her own wardrobe.
Sam felt the softness of Helen's gloved hand in his as he helped her up the
stairs. Oohs and ahhs from the crowd accompanied her appearance on the dais, and
Helen, always happy to show off her finery, responded with a twirl that made the
hem of her ivory coat stand out and show a glimpse of the cherry-red velvet
dress beneath. Cameras whirred as Abbey held out her arms, and Helen raced over
to her as fast as her tiny patent-leather shoes would allow.
Leaning over a little, Sam helped Nina up the last couple of steps. God, was
there a more beautiful woman anywhere on the face of the earth? She stood with
him, smiling, radiant, waving at the crowds as even more flashes went off. The
chilly air made her face glow, her eyes shining in the sunlight.
Behind the Bartlets was strong, steadfast Toby, with his arm around C.J. Was she
crying already? No, just laughing at something, and pointing...
...at Josh, arriving late. Tie slightly askew, he flashed his dimples at Nina by
way of apology. Donna worked to fix Josh's tie, her gloved hands fumbling with
the knot. Her mission accomplished, she turned around to wave at Sam and Nina.
She was...aglow.
Wow.
Nina went over to their friends while Sam spent a few minutes shaking hands with
various dignitaries. Congratulations, God bless you, we're so happy for you. He
thanked everyone while scanning the crowd for his parents.
Side by side for a change, for the first time since his wedding. His mother wept
quietly into a tissue, holding him for a long time and whispering words of love
and pride. His father stood, offering his hand. A handshake, Dad? Sam looked up
into eyes the color of his own, but with a cold sheen to them, a hardness.
That was as much as the man could offer. So be it, so be it.
Nina's father, however somber he looked in his black coat and hat, was much more
tactile. He seemed to have no qualms about clasping Sam in a tight hug. "You
take care of my girl," he said, just as he had done at the wedding, just as he
had done the day after Helen was born.
"I will. I promise." Sam spotted Matt and joined him for a few photos.
Matt was still a little bit in shock, for all that he was the more experienced
politician. His handsome face fell a little as he nodded at Gary, who had chosen
to sit with Sam's family in hopes of keeping some privacy intact on this
madhouse of a day. Matt patted Sam on the shoulder as they walked over to the
Bartlets and their entourage and took the two empty seats between the former
President and the future First Lady.
Behind them, they heard Josh's unfortunate stage whisper. "Use this: 'After
careful consideration and the help of trusted friends and advisors, they came to
a logical and well-planned decision. After all, it's best not to rush into these
things.'"
"That's really good," C.J. declared in a quiet alto. "When did you come up with
that?" There was a pause, during which time Sam turned his head enough to see
Josh turning red and mumbling something incoherent. "You are kidding me!" C.J.
exclaimed, loud enough for the front row to hear. "You made up spin for sex, you
know, during?"
Abbey had to hide her face in Helen's hair. Her husband, having no such screen,
was working very hard to keep a straight face.
Matt looked as if he'd been pole-axed. He scarcely had time to recover before he
was called up to the podium. His father, as tall and handsome as Matt, held the
Bible as his son was sworn into office. Matthew Charles Skinner became
Vice-President of the United States of America. Sam cheered as loudly as the
rest of the crowd, standing up and embracing Matt when he returned to his seat.
Then, it was his turn. Heart thundering, he stopped in front of Abbey to pick
Helen up in his arms. "It's showtime, precious," Abbey said, fixing Helen's red
hat firmly on her head. "Go make your mommy and daddy proud."
Nina was beside him, her hand in the crook of his elbow. So many people might
think he was supporting her, but it was the other way around. Sam smiled at her
as they took their places. "Thank you," he whispered as he leaned over to kiss
her. The crowd chuckled softly, and Sam nodded at the Chief Justice. "I'm ready
now."
He'd practiced the words until he knew them by heart. By heart. At this moment,
with Helen's white-gloved hands holding the Bible and Nina's arm around his
waist, with the respectful gazes of his beloved friends upon him, he made his
solemn vow.
"I, Samuel Norman Seaborn, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the
office of President of the United States, and I will, to the best of my ability,
preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States."
He had followed an extraordinary path to this most amazing of beginnings, guided
by these people who believed in him, these men and women who wept and cheered
and loved him, these friends who would ever demonstrate the rarest faith.
***
End "The Triumph of Principles" and the series, "The Rarest Faith." Thank
you for reading.
Feedback would make it all worthwhile: [email protected] .
Please read the dedication to Jo, Ria, and Sacha.
A Beta of Valor
A beta of valor, who can find?
For her price is far beyond bandwidth.
The heart of her author doth safely trust in her,
And has no lack of words.
She doeth the author good and not evil,
All the days of her reading.
She seeketh continuity and characterization,
And typeth willingly with her hands.
She is like the list moderators;
She bringeth her wisdom from afar.
She riseth also while it is yet night,
And giveth advice via IM,
And some gossip also.
She considereth a web site, and builds it;
With the html of her mind she planteth stories.
She girdeth her loins with NC-17,
And maketh strong her opinions.
She perceiveth that her advice is good;
Her screen goeth not out by night.
She layeth her hands to the Word document,
And her hands hold the delete key.
She stretcheth out her hand to the poor speller;
Yea, she reacheth forth her hands to those with POV issues.
She is not afraid of the hiatus for her fanfic,
For all her website is clothed with graphics.
She maketh for herself printouts;
Her clothing is comfortable for long evenings of editing.
Her author is known in the fandom,
When she sitteth among those who also have trouble finishing stories.
She maketh good words and posts them;
And delivers kind advice to the writer.
Strength and grammar are her clothing;
And she laugheth at the errors, but not too much.
She typeth her commentary with wisdom;
And the law of humor is on her tongue.
She looketh well to the ways of her writer,
And eateth not the bread of snark.
Her authors rise up, and call her blessed;
Those who read the authors also, and they praise her:
"Many betas have done valiantly,
But thou exceedest them all."
Snark is deceitful, and verbosity is vain;
But a beta that feareth not the author, she shall be praised.
Give her of the fruit of her typing;
And let her works praise her on the rec pages.
I love you very, very much.
Back to West Wing .
This was, as Toby would say, "the proverbial It."
Sam was as ready as he ever would be. Dark blue suit, crisp white shirt, blue
silk tie that matched his eyes, according to Nina, and wouldn't bleed on
television, according to C.J. Shoes polished, soles scuffed on the concrete, as
per Josh's instructions, to prevent slipping.
Yeah, falling on his ass in front of the Chief Justice would suck.
The morning was crisp and clear, and he wore a black overcoat and gloves. So did
Nina, concealing the incredibly beautiful royal blue silk suit that would look
amazing in photographs once they got back indoors. Gary had still been putting
the hem in it three days ago, and just this morning he had changed the buttons
on the jacket. Nina had been too busy dressing Helen to notice or care what was
going on with her own wardrobe.
Sam felt the softness of Helen's gloved hand in his as he helped her up the
stairs. Oohs and ahhs from the crowd accompanied her appearance on the dais, and
Helen, always happy to show off her finery, responded with a twirl that made the
hem of her ivory coat stand out and show a glimpse of the cherry-red velvet
dress beneath. Cameras whirred as Abbey held out her arms, and Helen raced over
to her as fast as her tiny patent-leather shoes would allow.
Leaning over a little, Sam helped Nina up the last couple of steps. God, was
there a more beautiful woman anywhere on the face of the earth? She stood with
him, smiling, radiant, waving at the crowds as even more flashes went off. The
chilly air made her face glow, her eyes shining in the sunlight.
Behind the Bartlets was strong, steadfast Toby, with his arm around C.J. Was she
crying already? No, just laughing at something, and pointing...
...at Josh, arriving late. Tie slightly askew, he flashed his dimples at Nina by
way of apology. Donna worked to fix Josh's tie, her gloved hands fumbling with
the knot. Her mission accomplished, she turned around to wave at Sam and Nina.
She was...aglow.
Wow.
Nina went over to their friends while Sam spent a few minutes shaking hands with
various dignitaries. Congratulations, God bless you, we're so happy for you. He
thanked everyone while scanning the crowd for his parents.
Side by side for a change, for the first time since his wedding. His mother wept
quietly into a tissue, holding him for a long time and whispering words of love
and pride. His father stood, offering his hand. A handshake, Dad? Sam looked up
into eyes the color of his own, but with a cold sheen to them, a hardness.
That was as much as the man could offer. So be it, so be it.
Nina's father, however somber he looked in his black coat and hat, was much more
tactile. He seemed to have no qualms about clasping Sam in a tight hug. "You
take care of my girl," he said, just as he had done at the wedding, just as he
had done the day after Helen was born.
"I will. I promise." Sam spotted Matt and joined him for a few photos.
Matt was still a little bit in shock, for all that he was the more experienced
politician. His handsome face fell a little as he nodded at Gary, who had chosen
to sit with Sam's family in hopes of keeping some privacy intact on this
madhouse of a day. Matt patted Sam on the shoulder as they walked over to the
Bartlets and their entourage and took the two empty seats between the former
President and the future First Lady.
Behind them, they heard Josh's unfortunate stage whisper. "Use this: 'After
careful consideration and the help of trusted friends and advisors, they came to
a logical and well-planned decision. After all, it's best not to rush into these
things.'"
"That's really good," C.J. declared in a quiet alto. "When did you come up with
that?" There was a pause, during which time Sam turned his head enough to see
Josh turning red and mumbling something incoherent. "You are kidding me!" C.J.
exclaimed, loud enough for the front row to hear. "You made up spin for sex, you
know, during?"
Abbey had to hide her face in Helen's hair. Her husband, having no such screen,
was working very hard to keep a straight face.
Matt looked as if he'd been pole-axed. He scarcely had time to recover before he
was called up to the podium. His father, as tall and handsome as Matt, held the
Bible as his son was sworn into office. Matthew Charles Skinner became
Vice-President of the United States of America. Sam cheered as loudly as the
rest of the crowd, standing up and embracing Matt when he returned to his seat.
Then, it was his turn. Heart thundering, he stopped in front of Abbey to pick
Helen up in his arms. "It's showtime, precious," Abbey said, fixing Helen's red
hat firmly on her head. "Go make your mommy and daddy proud."
Nina was beside him, her hand in the crook of his elbow. So many people might
think he was supporting her, but it was the other way around. Sam smiled at her
as they took their places. "Thank you," he whispered as he leaned over to kiss
her. The crowd chuckled softly, and Sam nodded at the Chief Justice. "I'm ready
now."
He'd practiced the words until he knew them by heart. By heart. At this moment,
with Helen's white-gloved hands holding the Bible and Nina's arm around his
waist, with the respectful gazes of his beloved friends upon him, he made his
solemn vow.
"I, Samuel Norman Seaborn, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the
office of President of the United States, and I will, to the best of my ability,
preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States."
He had followed an extraordinary path to this most amazing of beginnings, guided
by these people who believed in him, these men and women who wept and cheered
and loved him, these friends who would ever demonstrate the rarest faith.
***
End "The Triumph of Principles" and the series, "The Rarest Faith." Thank
you for reading.
Feedback would make it all worthwhile: [email protected] .
Please read the dedication to Jo, Ria, and Sacha.
A Beta of Valor
A beta of valor, who can find?
For her price is far beyond bandwidth.
The heart of her author doth safely trust in her,
And has no lack of words.
She doeth the author good and not evil,
All the days of her reading.
She seeketh continuity and characterization,
And typeth willingly with her hands.
She is like the list moderators;
She bringeth her wisdom from afar.
She riseth also while it is yet night,
And giveth advice via IM,
And some gossip also.
She considereth a web site, and builds it;
With the html of her mind she planteth stories.
She girdeth her loins with NC-17,
And maketh strong her opinions.
She perceiveth that her advice is good;
Her screen goeth not out by night.
She layeth her hands to the Word document,
And her hands hold the delete key.
She stretcheth out her hand to the poor speller;
Yea, she reacheth forth her hands to those with POV issues.
She is not afraid of the hiatus for her fanfic,
For all her website is clothed with graphics.
She maketh for herself printouts;
Her clothing is comfortable for long evenings of editing.
Her author is known in the fandom,
When she sitteth among those who also have trouble finishing stories.
She maketh good words and posts them;
And delivers kind advice to the writer.
Strength and grammar are her clothing;
And she laugheth at the errors, but not too much.
She typeth her commentary with wisdom;
And the law of humor is on her tongue.
She looketh well to the ways of her writer,
And eateth not the bread of snark.
Her authors rise up, and call her blessed;
Those who read the authors also, and they praise her:
"Many betas have done valiantly,
But thou exceedest them all."
Snark is deceitful, and verbosity is vain;
But a beta that feareth not the author, she shall be praised.
Give her of the fruit of her typing;
And let her works praise her on the rec pages.
I love you very, very much.
Back to West Wing .