fandomhigh | Valentine's Day Dance. The Gym. 8.30 pm

"Your wife got hit on at a Christmas party in 1984?" Sam was confused. "I didn't know you were married."

"Oh, not me," Josh said, shaking his head. "That was the the chairman of the House Commerce Committee a few years back." He grinned. "You'd also be surprised how long some offices can hold grudges about staffer softball games and accidentally forget to include your line items in a final version of a bill."

"Wow, that's petty." She smiled back. "How competitive are those games, anyway?" The ones at the SGC had been pretty bad--until it was decided that the winning team from the prior game had to take Daniel during the next one.

"Well it depends," Josh said. "if you're in the 'you knocked over my beer' league, the 'beer and softball are equally important' league or the 'we recruit our interns based on how well they play baseball' league." He winked. "There's a rumor that the real reason the FBI and the CIA don't get along dates back to a blown call at a softball game twenty years ago."

"And you? Do you play softball?" Sam got an idea, but decided to run it by someone on Student Council first. "See, and I thought it was all the spying on each other that did it. You should write a book."

"I've been known to play," Josh said, grinning. "And maybe some day I will. It's what White House staffers do, right? Set up consulting firms and write tell-alls?"

"Really? Any good at it?" She grinned back and brushed some hair behind her ear. "And run for office. Teaching high school, not so much."

"Well, I'm not going to be picked up by the Mets any time soon, but I do know that smacking a softball off of the Washington Monument is considered a ground rule double and not, you know, desecrating a national monument." Josh grinned. "And I have no interest in running for office. I like having a little more power than that."

"A ground rule double?" Sam made a face. "Although, really, if you're going to smack a monument with a softball, that's the one to pick. No broken windows."

"I suppose next you're going to tell me it's an automatic foul if it goes into the reflecting pool?"

She started laughing. "And you feel like you have power here?"

"That's why we play on the Mall," Josh said, smiling. "And have interns to go wade through the reflecting pool for that ball because, seriously. That water is nasty."

Josh raised an eyebrow. "Who says that being the advisor for the strangest Student Council in the history of ever isn't enough power? Besides, I came here to learn to relax. I'm just not, you know, that good at it yet."

"I have some friends who have done entire ~~theses~~ papers on the composition of that water." She grinned. "Er, tongue in cheek of course. Still? Good choice on using the interns for that. I don't want to say flesh-eating bacteria, but I wouldn't be surprised if it noshed a little here and there."

"What do you like to do to relax?"

"I wouldn't be suprised to find out that there were man-eating ducks coming from that water," Josh said.

He thought about her question. "You know? I have no idea. I haven't had spare time in about fifteen years."

"No, those are from the water in the park here, I think," Sam replied automatically.

"Fifteen years? Wow, long time." Not that she was one to talk. "What about something that sounds interesting? I do physics equations in my spare time, but I'm told it's not really for everybody."

Josh blinked. "Huh. Okay."

He raised an eyebrow. "Think I'll skip out on the physics equations," he said, "and I can probably stop handicapping who'll be the next chairman of Senate Finance, huh?"

"Long story." She shrugged.

"You handicap the next chairman of Senate Finance? What kind of odds do you give? And yeah, probably." She tried to think of things other people did as hobbies. "You could always throw things at the newscasters on television. That's entertaining."

"It all depends on if it's a Republican or Democratic Senate next session, of course, and who decides to retire, and..." Josh cut himself off. "I'm rambling. No one is interested in this. I'm quite the fan of throwing things at the television. It was the only way I could get through the State of the Union this year without accidentally breaking my roommate's TV."

She grinned. "I don't mind the rambling. At least you're enthusiastic about something, which is more than I can say about a lot of people."

"Just don't use shoes," she said, experience talking here, "and seriously, on the State of the Union. I mean, he was kidding about the animal-human hybrid thing, right? Maybe his speechwriters sent him out with the gag speech?"

"I really hope so, about the animal-human hybrid," Josh said. "I mean, there were certain phrases Sam used to toss into early drafts just to watch Leo's blood pressure rise, but we'd never send the President out in front of the public to make an idiot of himself." He grinned. "Not that this guy needs the help, of course."

"What kind of phrases?" And Sam had never added strange and farcial phrases to her mission reports just to see if anyone would notice. Nope. "And no, he really does. Hydrogen cars? Why not make them able to run on fairy dust?"

"Er, you'd know if we had cars that could run on fairy dust, right?"

"Tongue-twisters," Josh said, "excessive alliteration. The occasional horrifying pun. They'd all disappear before they'd get to the President or the focus groups, but we have to have some fun with a speech we spent five months worrying about."

He waggled his eyebrows. "And of course we have cars that run on fairy dust. But Kumar won't let us tell the world about it, and so we remain dependent on oil."

He looked around. "If Blair heard me talking like this, he'd actually believe me."

Sam couldn't help wondering what other top secret projects Josh might know about. Like, you know, those involving large wooshy metal rings that sent you to other planets.

"So it's all a conspiracy?" She rolled her eyes. "And Blair managed to stage a sit-in on Monopoly night, so I wouldn't be surprised if he did believe you. But what happens when he finds out they're oppressing the fairies and just using them for their dust? Then what?"

"I heard something about that during the Student Council meeting. And a pirate stealing money?" Josh looked confused. "And the fairies like being oppressed." He pretended to look shifty. "If they existed. Which they don't."

"It's just possible," Sam said, smirking, "that the pirate played a little too free and loose with the idea of ownership and absconded with everyone's money. He's the guy who runs the radio station. And hides out in the shrubs. Which seems a little odd for a pirate, but I guess a ship isn't real inconspicious."

Wow, talk about babbling...way too much punch, probably.

"Is it bad that I totally believe fairies exist now? And that their dust can power cars and reduce our reliance on foreign oil?"

"Yeah, a ship would be a little more noticable," Josh said, completely ignoring the shrub taking notes over by the snark corner.

"And you are free to believe in fairies," Josh said, winking. "As long as you never tell anyone about the secret cars. Because then there would be men with serious expressions and cheap suits and I'd have to come up with some kind of excuse for where you went."

"Y'know, they really should pay those guys more. The suits are a dead giveaway." She shook her head. "Sorry, I've been spending too much time with Parker, I think. But they're really noticeable. And, er, abducted by aliens seems to be a popular excuse right now."

So what if in her case it would probably be true?

Valentine's Day Dance. The Gym. 8.30 pm

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman

Re: Chaperones - Professor Lyman