Whitening Toothpaste

By Eve Karma

Chapter One: Trying to be Impervious

Disclaimer: I wish I owned them all-then I could start my own line of West Wing Action Figures!

Spoilers: None yet. Will eventually be some from approximately "The Fall's Going to Kill You" through the third season. There's also some references to Clinton's presidency and interns. :)

Other: This is my first of hopefully many fanfics. Please R and R but be kind! I think I was born to direct or produce or do something visual, writing's not my forte. Enjoy!

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One minute, I was among twenty other people following a tour guide. The next minute, I was wandering down a hallway lined with offices, with people rushing back and forth as if their lives depended on it.

I had been appointed as a summer intern at the White House. (Despite my mother's warnings, yes.) At 8 AM Monday morning, I was supposed to be with the other interns. At orientation. Instead I was standing dumfounded in the middle of what I thought might be the west wing. Security was tight. I knew that much. A dark haired man who I guessed to be in his thirties (Did I mention he was good looking, too?) seemed to notice my confusion and called out to me.

"You need some help?" he asked, casually leaning against the doorway of what I assumed was his office.

I looked behind me to make sure he wasn't talking to someone else. Nope. No one. "Me?" I squeaked. "Smooth," I scolded myself in my head.

"Yes," he said quietly. "You. In the navy suit."

I looked down at my ensemble. I had chosen a sky blue tank top and paired it with a two-piece suit jacket and skirt. The skirt was probably a tad short for the White House, but I'm young and naive, what do you expect? Plus it showed off my legs, which regularly garner me compliments. I also wore heeled loafers. I must admit, I looked good.

I took a step closer to the stranger. "I'm not sure," I told him. "I'm...supposed to be at the orientation for new interns."

Why did his eyes brighten at the word "intern"? "Did you get your assignment yet? Of who you'd be working with?" he asked, almost too eagerly.

"No," I told him.

Now he was trying to hide a smile, but he wasn't very good at it. He took confident strides over to me and reached out his hand.

"Sam Seaborn. Deputy Communications Director." he introduced himself, grinning widely.

"I thought you looked kind of familiar," I told him. "Kate Montgomery. Lost Intern." I returned the smile and shook his hand.

He laughed at my little joke, and I realized how white his teeth were. It was really a wonderful sight. I looked away before I went weak in the knees.

He invited me into his office, and I, not knowing any better, accepted. I sat down in the leather chair across from his desk, holding my shoulder-strap briefcase in my lap.

"You almost look to old to be an intern," he mused while he gazed into my blue eyes. "What does he want from me?" I wondered, but I wasn't uneasy, and I soon forgot about it.

"I'm twenty-two." I said matter of factly. I'm always hearing "Kate looks so grown up," and "Kate acts so mature." That was fine and dandy when I was fifteen, but come on people, I'm in my twenties now.

"Really!" He exclaimed. "Just out of college?"

I nodded. "I wonder if he uses whitening toothpaste?" I thought to myself.

"Where?"

"Rowan University. In Jersey." I told him.

He grabbed a scrap of paper and a pen from his desktop. I could tell he was writing something about me. There wasn't much to write about at that point. He asked questions as he wrote.

"What was your major?"

"Musical Theatre." I said. "I minored in Political Science." I added, not wanting him to wonder how I ended up in the White House.

"Strange combination," he chuckled. "Where did you grow up?"

"Philadelphia, but I moved to Georgetown with my mom right before high school."

He was still scribbling. I peered through my sliver glasses at the heap of papers in the corner of his desk closest to me. "God, what kind of hours does this guy put in?" I contemplated.

Then he was looking at me.

"Would you mind taking a walk with me?" He asked.

"Sure!" I said, and shrugged, thinking, "Okayyyyy....this is weird....."

We walked down several short hallways, the tall hunky guy (Yes, hunky. Because of this guy I was close to melting.) making small talk along the way. He was also exhibiting his boyish charm. I tried to be professional and impervious, but I was having a hard time averting my eyes from his.

Then we were standing in a busy office. An older white woman and a black man who looked about my age stood at their desks, arguing about who jammed the copier. Sam stepped between them and said, "Excuse me. Hey guys. Hello!?!" he finally yelled in effort to calm them down.

I wanted to smile, but didn't.

"Charlie," he said to the young man, "Is he in there?" he asked, pointing to the heavy wood door.

"Yeah," Charlie replied, "He's talking to Leo and Josh. You can go ahead in, he won't mind."

"Who was 'he'?" I wondered. A shiver went up my spine. "What did I do now?" I groaned inwardly.

"Wait here," Sam told me. "I might need you in a moment."

Need me? The Deputy Communications Director at the White House might need me? It seemed impossible. But I waited as Sam went in a shut the door behind him.

I had no way of expecting what was soon to come.