Author's Note: Happy 2017, everyone!

Picking back up only a few weeks after the end of Equal Justice, this series of vignettes focuses on moments in the lives of members on the Lang Court. As in my previous fics, the stories center on the relationship between Evelyn Baker Lang and Christopher Mulready, but also will encompass the goings-on of some of the other Justices (some canon to "The West Wing" and others products of my own imagination) and even occasional appearances from other figures from throughout the "West Wing" universe. Anyone you recognize from television is, obviously, property of Aaron Sorkin and the show's other creators.

Like in Equal Justice, each of the vignettes in this series is based on, or loosely inspired by, a different amendment to the U.S. Constitution. However, while Equal Justice followed the Bill of Rights sequentially, I'm not going to tackle the remaining sixteen amendments in order, mostly because it makes more narrative sense to shuffle them around (and besides, I've already extracted the Twelfth Amendment for other purposes). So I apologize in advance to anyone who finds this to be a somewhat distressing turn of events. I'm also not planning to write any more pseudo-opinions - Drori was quite enough, thank you - but I still feel compelled to include my standard disclaimer that I have no formal legal training and thus ask your forgiveness for any less-than-sound legal reasoning or confusion over doctrines that I may not fully understand.

Lastly, a huge round of thanks to all of the kind people who have been so supportive of my excessive authorial enthusiasm for this fictional Supreme Court over the past two months, but especially to HarmonyLover for encouraging me to write a round of fics about the Lang Court in the first place, and also to Em2a for challenging me to stretch my imagination just a little bit further than it normally would have gone.

Amici Curiae

AMENDMENT XVII

Passed by Congress May 13, 1912. Ratified April 8, 1913.

Note: Article I, section 3, of the Constitution was modified by the 17th amendment.

The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each State, elected by the people thereof, for six years; and each Senator shall have one vote. The electors in each State shall have the qualifications requisite for electors of the most numerous branch of the State legislatures.

When vacancies happen in the representation of any State in the Senate, the executive authority of such State shall issue writs of election to fill such vacancies: Provided, That the legislature of any State may empower the executive thereof to make temporary appointments until the people fill the vacancies by election as the legislature may direct.

This amendment shall not be so construed as to affect the election or term of any Senator chosen before it becomes valid as part of the Constitution.

"They're voting."

"Oh, god," groaned Evie, covering her face with her hands. "Am I allowed to go hide in the bathroom until they're done? I feel nauseous just thinking about it."

"I mean, you can, if you really feel you must," said Charlotte Robeson from the doorway of Evie's office, "but wouldn't you rather watch the votes come in, yourself? I know I'd rather tell my grandkids one day that I sat next to the first female Chief Justice of the United States as the Senate confirmed her to that office; it makes for a much nicer story than that I sat and watched the Senate vote while the future first female Chief Justice teetered on the edge of a panic attack in the courthouse bathroom."

"I'm not teetering on the edge of a panic attack!" Evie lied emphatically, wishing that she could fool herself, let alone any of her colleagues on the Fourth Circuit.

"It's going to be fine, Evie. You absolutely blew your confirmation hearings out of the water, the way you had those Senators tripping over their own words and grasping frantically for their trains of thought. And you were voted out of the Judiciary Committee unanimously!"

"I'm pretty sure that that's only because Roland Pierce personally browbeat every member on the Committee who didn't want to support me." Evie sighed fretfully. "Jesus, this is nerve-wracking, Lottie. Are they almost done?"

"Not even close."

Evie muttered an oath under her breath.

"I don't suppose they've voted for Chris yet?"

"He's next," Lottie explained. "I suspect the minority leaders wanted your vote to be first so that they could immediately sabotage the vote on Mulready if things went south on yours. So, see? Even less reason to be anxious."

"I'm not sure about that," grumbled Evie, who sincerely hoped that the Senate would refrain from filibustering either nomination that day.

"Well, if you decide you can stomach your frayed nerves, we're all watching on C-SPAN in my office," Lottie informed her.

"Sounds good," Evie said, and then frowned. "Wait, who all are watching on C-SPAN in your office?"

"Your clerks," Lottie said. "And my clerks. And the support staff. And the people who work in the mailroom. And a few of the District Court judges, and both of the magistrate judges who are in today, and the Marshal, and..."

"OK, thanks, I get it," Evie interrupted.

Lottie crossed her arms and fixed Evie with a look of concerned exasperation.

"It's just because we're all so excited for you," she reminded Evie. "And I totally, totally understand why you're so on-edge about this whole deal, but seriously, Evie, it's going to be fine. I promise you that much. Just come make a brief appearance in a few minutes, so that we can all congratulate you properly?"

Evie's only response was a noncommittal noise, so Lottie rolled her eyes and left to go rejoin the viewing party. Evie, for her part, pulled a memorandum across her desk, clicked her pen open and closed several times in rapid succession, and then acknowledged to herself that she was far too worked up about the vote to even pretend to do anything substantive. Sighing in resignation, she slipped her shoes back on under her desk, grabbed a blazer from off her coat rack and her cell phone from off her desk, and headed down the hallway towards Lottie's office.

Just outside the door, Evie paused to steel herself emotionally, and in that moment, she overheard the presiding officer on the TV announce, "The votes are in, and the yeas have it by a total of 97 to zero. We will now commence the vote on the confirmation of Judge Christopher Mulready to the United States Supreme Court."

Evie had always laughed at those dream sequences in 1950s films, where the margins of the screen went blurry and the lighting was subjected to some unusual filter and everyone started moving in slow-motion. Even at her most romantic and whimsical, she was still a fairly practical person and thought that such special effects, although charming and quaint, were a rather overwrought means of implying infatuation or some other huge emotional upheaval. Yet that cinematic degree of surrealism seemed only too apt for a moment like this one: Time slowed precipitously. Motion dragged. Moments suspended themselves vividly in their own individual frames, rather than functioning along any sort of comprehensible continuity. As the presiding officer ended his statement with a sharp rap of his gavel, the whole office burst into cheers that seemed to reach Evie through a substance as dampening and distorting as water. Evie and Lottie's clerks were hugging each other; one of the magistrate judges gave her a thumbs up while the other threw her arms into the air triumphantly; a District Court judge was wiping furiously at his eyes with a crumpled napkin that one of the custodians had just handed him from her pocket.

Lottie, with a whoop of joy, threw her arms around Evie, who was still standing in the doorway in stunned silence, feeling as dazed as if she had just been hit in the face with a sledgehammer.

"Madam Chief Justice," she said gleefully, steering Evie into the room proper. "See, aren't you glad you were present to hear the announcement yourself?"

Evie sank slowly onto the couch in Lottie's office and glanced at the TV screen, where neatly-printed words announced: "Evelyn Baker Lang confirmed as Chief Justice of the United States (97-0)." And then she burst into tears, covering her face with her hands.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry, everyone," she sobbed as everyone smiled kindly at her. "It's just a lot to process in one moment. Thanks," she added as one of the support staff shoved a pack of tissues into her hands. "And thank you all for being so incredibly supportive of me throughout all of this..."

Evie's cell phone suddenly began ringing, and when she glanced at the screen, it was evident that at least three different people were trying to reach her all at the same time.

"Go ahead," said Lottie gently, and Evie scrambled off the couch and back into the hallway to answer her phone.

"Hello?"

"Wow," said Bill, his voice brimming with pride. "It's not every day you get to excuse yourself from a meeting with a group of Italian nanoscientists because your wife has just been confirmed as Chief Justice. Congratulations, honey!"

"Thanks, Bill." Evie brushed some tears off of her cheeks. "I honestly never thought this would happen."

"No one ever thinks that this sort of thing will happen, but it couldn't have happened to a more deserving person. I mean it. And you're going to be fantastic beyond belief on the bench."

"Not that you're a biased audience, or anything..."

"Well, the entire editorial board of the New York Times agrees with me, as do all of our friends. So that counts for something, right?"

"You're sweet."

"Nah, just honest."

"Shoot," muttered Evie as her phone started buzzing again.

"Everything OK?" Bill asked as Evie glanced at the screen of her phone.

"Yeah, my mom's calling."

"I'll let you go, then, but I'll see you tonight. Celebrations are in order! Any preferences for dinner?"

"Surprise me," Evie challenged him, grinning.

"Will do," Bill said. "Also, I hope you don't mind that I'm going to be bragging about you to these Italians and anyone else who comes within a fifty-foot radius of my lab for the rest of the day. God, Evie, this is incredible!"

"Love you," Evie said, and hung up.

She had missed her mom's call and was leaving her a voicemail message when she noticed through Lottie's office door that the vote on Chris's nomination was concluding – also 97 to zero. The instant she finished her message to her mom, she scrolled through her phone contacts and found Chris's mobile number. The line picked up immediately.

"This is Chris," said the voice on the other end, sounding as harried as Evie had felt five minutes prior.

"Congratulations, Justice Mulready," she replied.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Chris began to chuckle.

"Evie? Is that you? Wait, what's going on? I've been pacing around my office all day with the door locked, trying to avoid any bad news – or, really, any news at all. Does this mean they're done voting?"

"They are, indeed – and, by the way, that's Madam Chief Justice, to you. Hasn't anyone gotten in touch yet to alleviate the suspense?"

"Well, suddenly my office phone is ringing off the hook," Chris noticed. "And my cell phone, too, for that matter. I should probably go."

The enormity of what had just happened suddenly hit him.

"Oh my god, Evie."

"Let it sink in for a few moments longer, and your mind will really be blown."

"We did it," Chris grinned.

"I know!" Evie answered, equally giddy, and at the same time on the verge of bursting into tears again.

"This doesn't feel real. Against all odds, we made it! This is unbelievable."

"Chris, go answer your other phone," Evie ordered, since her mom was trying to call her back again. "We'll talk soon."

"Yes, Chief," Chris replied cheekily. "Congratulations to you, too."

He hung up his cell phone and immediately seized his office phone, only it had just gone to voicemail, so he dropped it back down onto its receiver and answered his cell phone, which was ringing again.

"Hello?"

"Finally!" Louise exclaimed. "You said to call the instant the vote was over and give you the news, and yet it seems someone beat me to the punch."

"I guess she called when the vote was a clear yea, not when it was completely over?" Chris reasoned. "Sorry about that."

"Never mind the timing! Chris! Oh my god! Congratulations!"

"Thank you." Chris shook his head in disbelief. "I never thought I'd say this, but it appears that the U.S. Senate sometimes does the right thing."

"How can you sound so calm at a moment like this?" Louise scolded him. "I'm practically jumping up and down in excitement!"

"Shock, probably?"

"You're not still locked in your office, are you?"

"I mean, I only got the news a few moments ago..."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, dear, go interact with some actual human beings," Louise scoffed. "Your colleagues are probably all waiting outside for you with banners and cake and champagne, and you should stop being ridiculous now that you no longer have any reason to lurk moodily behind closed doors."

"I'm not lurking moodily behind closed doors," Chris grumbled.

"Still, go be with your friends right now. We'll have plenty of time to celebrate when you get home, if I haven't passed out from an excess of euphoria by then. I'm off to go field calls from literally everyone we know who doesn't try to get in touch with you directly – wish me luck!"

"Good luck," said Chris. "And I love you."

"Same to you, Mr. Justice. Now, go be sociable!"

Chris's office phone was ringing again, but Louise was right; this was the type of moment that really called for celebrating with others in person. Feeling marginally guilty for the fact that he had snapped at everyone that morning when he had heard that the vote had been scheduled for later that day, Chris grabbed his suit jacket from off the back of his chair, shrugged it on as he crossed the room, unlocked his office door, and stepped into the hallway. Immediately several heads turned, and people rushed forward to shake his hand and congratulate him – clerks, attorneys, interns, stenographers. Under most other circumstances, Chris would have been slightly annoyed to have so many people deliberating impeding his speedy progress down the corridor of the courthouse, but today the grin on his face only grew wider and wider as more and more people wished him well. Uncharacteristically, he also found that, at least today, he didn't care if he looked somewhat absurd to be smiling as unrelentingly as he was, and he gamely agreed to follow one of his clerks over to one of the courtrooms.

As he turned a corner, Chris glanced at the screen of a TV that was visible through the open door of one of his colleagues. Headshots of both himself and Evie were displayed on the screen, alongside their new respective titles and their identical confirmation margins. This all felt nothing at all like what Chris had expected it to feel, but then again, he hadn't known that it was quite this possible to feel so stunned and so ecstatic at the exact same time. And this is only the beginning, he thought to himself in wonder, this is only the beginning of an entire lifetime of this sort of exhilaration...

But his thoughts were cut short when his clerk open the door of the courtroom, announced, "May I present the newest member of the United States Supreme Court, Associate Justice Christopher Mulready!" and beckoned Chris forward to be applauded by all of his assembled colleagues. In the midst of the smiles and cheers, Chris suddenly realized how much he was going to miss working alongside of so many of the people here on the D.C. Circuit, and the thought made the grin on his face falter for just a moment. But then he remembered that they'd still all be here for him, at the base of Capitol Hill even as he ascended to its summit; and that, moreover, he was about to gain a whole new set of brilliant colleagues that would keep him on his toes in the best way possible. And that latter thought, more than anything else, kept the smile plastered on Justice Chris Mulready's face long after he finally came back down to earth a few days later.