Disclaimer-Characters belong to Aaron Sorkin. Any similarity to events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Notes-Hey, Jenni... Squeaky, squeaky, squeaky.

Spoilers-Evidence of Things Not Seen Post-Ep. Slight spoilers with LDL&S.

Feedback-Always greatly appreciated.

Archive-Let me know first, thanks.

Now It's a Party-What really cheeses a certain assistant.

This sucks.

Do you know how much this sucks?

This sucks so bad there are no words to describe how much this really, totally, truly... sucks.

Leo McGarry sent me out for more delicatessen snacks for Poker Night. And what happens? I'm ten feet from the entry gate and I hit the dirt.

Why?

Somebody's shot at the White House.

So y'know what that means? That means there's a crash. That means there are Secret Service and various members of law enforcement rushing past me towards the source of the gunshots.

That means I'm sitting at the gate with a cheese tray and crackers and am, oh, very close to breaking it open. I've been sitting out here for what seems like hours.

And I've given up on trying to talk the guard at the gate into letting me in. I know he can't. I know he won't. But, darn it... I'd rather be inside than outside.

It feels weird, not doing anything but sitting out here with, y'know, a cheese tray.

And my thoughts about how much this really sucks.

"Margaret?"

I know that voice.

"Thanks for waiting."

I stand up, dusting off my suit. "Well, I really didn't have much of a choice." I pick up the cheese tray and the crackers.

"You could've gone on."

"And abscond with Leo's assorted cheeses?" I shake my head.

He smiles as the gate opens.

"I don't know why you're smiling. I'm convinced you're bad luck."

"I'm bad luck?" he asks.

"Yes. Anytime anything *bad* happens, you're around."

Ron Butterfield smiles again. "Don't shoot the messenger, Margaret."

"Somebody else tried."

He nods. "Is Leo going to let you play a round of poker?"

"I certainly hope so. Risking life and limb for his cheeses..."

"Really cheeses you?"

"Bad luck *and* a comedian."

"I do my best."

End.