By Lauren S
Picking up just a few moments after the end of last week's episode, Leo is taken to the hospital, and when Josh and Donna arrive to check on him, they're told by Annabeth that he died. Donna calls C.J., who breaks the horrible news to President Bartlet; it also makes its way through the Santos staff. The race is still neck-and-neck, and the news of Leo's death makes the result even more unpredictable. Various advisors tell Santos how to spin the news or to pick a new running mate, but he refuses to do either and lets it play out as it may. Both candidates are being advised to challenge the results if they should lose, but both men seem loathe to actually make that move. Ultimately, the election comes down to Nevada, and Santos is eventually declared the winner. Vinick chooses not to challenge the results, and Santos makes his victory speech, as Josh looks on and sends a quiet thank-you to Leo.
Josh is giving an interview we see on the monitor of the TV camera, talking happily about winning Illinois -- "Leo McGarry country." Ronna walks in as the shot pulls back and Josh has got to be in the most uncomfortable crossed-leg position in the world -- Josh, honey, if you needed to go you should have done so BEFORE they brought you on TV. He's listing the states Santos has won...
...and then Bruno's dulcet tones overlap, citing his own list and his own spin.
Josh mentions that they are very optimistic about California...
...and we cut back to Bruno, who is very optimistic about Texas. All of this glass-half-full talk! How warm and fuzzy.
As soon as Josh says "thank you" to end the interview, he rips out earpiece to freak out with Ronna that he thought they were leading Texas. Ronna decides that using Josh's own words is the best defense -- "Like the wise man said, Santos isn't running for president of Texas..." -- but even that, when he's wild-eyed, seems not to work really well.
Bruno thanks his own interviewer and does his own version of "tense ripping out of earphone" to ask about Ohio as well as some other states.
Back to Josh: he's also freaking out as he walks into the party, where Donna intercepts him to tell him he looks horrible. See, you've got the Bruno/Josh parallel thing going there, but then Josh has the cute girl. Sorry, Bruno. Donna tells Josh that they have Minnesota, and also that someone from the transition team is looking for him, but Josh rightly replies, "Tell them we're going to wait and see if there's a transition first." Foos play in the background. Josh heads into another, quieter room, where two bodyguard guys are menacingly looking for Josh. Oh, wait: these are the transition guys. For a second I thought we were about to have a Meaningful Lesson about Gambling Debts, or something. Josh quietly orders Donna to interrupt and save him in two minutes.
Back at the Vinick office, Bruno heads into the room, hair a-flying, as Jane announces that Minnesota went to Santos. Bruno wants to know about something I couldn't make out on three viewings, but it doesn't really matter, because whatever it is is still too close to call. Even Jane sounds sick of that saying now. Bruno continues to be tense about Ohio.
Bruce and Gene announce that they have huge problems with the victory speech, and Josh just sounds tired as he asks what they are. Gene and Bruce finish each other's sentences and offer a laundry list of problems that Josh clearly can't believe or handle since the election isn't even over yet. He asks for their changes, and they give him an actual packet.
In a limo presumably headed for the hotel, Bram lets both Santoses know that they're going in the tunnel through the back to avoid the crowd. Josh calls Bram and tells him about Minnesota, so Bram hands the phone to Santos, telling him it's good news. Santos picks up, and Josh announces, "Bad news." Santos quips, "If you guys are trying to play good cop/bad cop, your routine needs some work." Josh tells him that they have to rewrite the speech to add "sacrifice and burden sharing instead of sunshine and light." Josh is apologizing and blaming himself for the lack of doom and gloom in the speech as Santos keeps trying to interrupt to tell him to not worry: "You want something to worry about, worry about the two hours." Oh, that's right -- this thing isn't over yet.
As Josh rounds a corner, Donna comes out of one of the rooms with a strange look on her face. Josh, faux-annoyed, asks, "Hey, what happened to you? Two minutes! 120 seconds I was stuck in there with Dull and Duller counting beads on my imaginary abacus. " Donna looks shell-shocked, and eventually Josh trails off as he realizes that the look on her face isn't good news. She says nothing, and he guesses, "Ohio?" She looks so absolutely, deeply sorry, and as if she's girding herself to say what she has to say. Josh: "Texas? We won? We lost? We need a good lawyer? What?" Donna licks her lips, and has her hands on her hips, seeming to physically to brace herself: "Leo was unconscious. In his room. Annabeth found him. He wasn't...he wasn't breathing." She's trying to keep it together, but at this, her voice cracks. "They're taking him to the hospital in an ambulance now." Josh just looks disbelieving as we roll credits.
Nighttime somewhere; a phone is placed back in its cradle. C.J. just stares out, dumbfounded. Grief and fear are mingling horribly on her face. Margaret has to call her name twice to get her attention, and C.J. turns and asks numbly if the president is in his office. Margaret sounds panicked and worried herself as she tells C.J. he is, and asks if she should get Will. I think Margaret already knows, just by the scared and serious tone in her voice. C.J. nods and pushes herself out of her chair as Margaret runs out. She makes her way to the Oval and pauses a second at the door.
Jed looks casual in a windbreaker and glasses, looking for some files in his desk. C.J. just stands in the doorway a second and makes her way in; he asks if they have results for Ohio and Texas, but she merely responds in a monotone, quiet "No sir." He goes on, while puttering around his desk, "I had to get out of Manchester. Sitting around my daughter's house watching my son-in-law take his much-deserved electoral beating without being able utter a self-satisfied whoop is a bit more than I could bear." He calls something back to Nancy about some missing files, and C.J. is just standing quietly. As he turns around, she closes her eyes a second, seeming to gather herself. Jed prattles on, but finally stops as C.J. leans in and takes a breath as if to say something. He takes off his glasses and in a completely different -- now very serious -- voice asks, "C.J., what is it?"
Sirens are echoing in a concrete hallway as Lou meets Santos at the door. It's now 8:35 PM Central Standard Time. Santos asks how "he" is, and Lou updates him that the paramedics should have Leo at the hospital by now. Josh has left for the hospital. Lou doesn't know if Leo was talking, but when Helen asks if they should go, Lou says no, because the press doesn't know what happened yet. When Santos asks why, she explains that the west coast polls are still open, but Santos interrupts, incredulous that she wants to keep this a secret. "A whole quarter of the country is still voting," she justifies, but he replies, "And I'm asking all four quarters to trust me to be their leader. I am not hiding the health problems of my Vice-President." We've seen them to each other before, but somehow Lou looks exceptionally tiny with Santos talking down to her so strongly. Bram leans in to warn, "This might not be the best place to have this conversation." What, yelling about Leo's heart attack in a public spot isn't the best way to keep it private? Lou starts in, and Santos walks away, saying, "I'm not having this conversation. We're issuing a statement to the press. Now." Still undeterred, Lou tries again passionately: "Congressman, this is still a campaign, and there's only two kinds: the pitiless and the dead. Every minute we stand here, votes are being cast. Undecideds vote late in the day. If they were looking for a reason to vote Vinick, a press release from us might just punch their lottery ticket." Helen agrees that it will come out soon, since they're pretty much guaranteed that someone will spill the beans. I suspect that her hair has been done with one of those weird foam bananas they sold on infomercials for a while. From the front, she looks great, but from the back her hair looks half great, half like a weapon. Helen and Lou talk back and forth until Lou finally says, more gently, "I know he's your friend; he's my friend too. But we can't be sentimental about this or we will have a Republican president." At this, her brows knit, and she puts emphasis on the words, as if Darth Vader might be coming to rule the United States. "...Who will gut education, he will auction off Social Security and cut taxes until we're bleeding red ink. And WHEN," she looks around, pausing pointedly, "Leo wakes up, he will kick your ass for letting that happen. You know he will." This has the desired effect, and Santos tells her to start working on a statement as their elevator stops. I love how on TV elevators are always perfectly timed with someone making a point about something.
Bob's on the phone and yells, "Kansas, Louisiana, Nebraska, Oklahoma, North and South Dakota, Minnesota, and Wisconsin!" Bruno tensely asks about Ohio and Texas, but there's nothing. Bruno starts making some calculations, guessing who will get what; my favorite is when he gives Santos "Havaii" with a little hip tilt. Paul Moyer's voice breaks in to give Ohio to Vinick, and there's much rejoicing in all the land. Or in all the office, but that sounds much less grand.
Josh and Donna run down a hospital hall and are directed to an elevator. A good ten seconds passes as they stare up at the numbers to a Muzak rendition of "My Cherie Amore." I think this was supposed to -- and did -- convey how long you feel like time is taking when you're scared, because my notes had it down at about thirty seconds of waiting when it was really only about a third of that. Josh sprints out of the elevator and finds Annabeth, looking even smaller than usual and with mascara running liberally down her cheeks. In a small voice, she heartbreakingly tells him, "Hey. He died, Josh." Josh stares, mouth half open, and after a moment Annabeth falls into him, beginning to sob. Josh's mouth falls completely open in disbelief. And I don't mean TV disbelief; I mean true, honest-to-God, socked-in-the-gut, complete disbelief. Josh holds Annabeth and just stares past her hair as if trying to comprehend what she's said.
Bram's phone rings, and everyone in the room looks at him tensely. He mouths to them that it's Josh, and brings the phone in the room, where Santos is sitting to Helen in front of the news. After Santos listens for a second, he reaches over quickly to grab Helen's hand and seems to slump. Bram looks on with the horrible realization of what news has just arrived.
Jed's at his desk, talking on the phone and telling whomever it is that he's flying to Houston in a few moments. C.J. walks toward his office. Jed mentions, "I think Mallory's already there for election night," which is the first of many references to Mallory's whereabouts. C.J. stops at Jed's desk as he tells either a daughter or Abbey (someone he calls "honey," anyway) to hold on. C.J.'s got that puffy, dazed weeping face and doesn't say anything, and Jed knows. "When?" he asks. C.J.: "Just a few minutes ago. Donna just called me." Jed puts down the phone and very slowly makes it around to C.J., whose eyes are glistening. He hugs her and tells her, "Thank you, C.J." "Mr. President," she says. He lifts his head and takes a shuddering deep breath, tears shining on his face. He seems older already as he makes it back around his desk to pick the phone back up: "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I have some really bad news."
Newscaster speculation is spewing forth from the squawk box; this time, it's Vinick watching TV with Sheila. Bruno comes in to tell him that Santos is on the phone, but when Vinick cracks a joke, Bruno only seriously replies that he should take the call. As the TV sounds, Vinick looks surprised at this reaction.
Santos is on the phone, thanking Vinick. He hangs up as, on TV, the commentator announces the breaking news that Leo McGarry was pronounced dead after a massive heart attack. The war room is silent as everyone watches his accomplishments listed -- he was clearly revered by everyone. Every room with a TV contains a silent crowd, including the White House, where Margaret quietly swallows the tears rolling down her face and looks like she's not quite holding it in. The entire party in the ballroom is silent, as Moyer narrates that Leo had more experience than "the top of the ticket." A younger, better-looking news guy says, "More than one Democratic operative might be saying, with the loss of this party eminence and elder, what now for the Santos campaign?" Helen buries her head in Matt's shoulder as he shakes his own ever so slightly.
It's 9:15 PM CST, and the powers that be are in Santos's room, where Lou tells him that they need an immediate statement. Goodwin (Dr. Anspaugh, it's so hard for me to call you by a different name!) tells him he could pick another name to try to avoid Vinick's contesting the issue. Helen asks if he could really contest the result, and Goodwin replies, "We don't have a lot of precedent to guide us here." Santos tells them he won't pick a new running mate in five minutes. The others talk about the close race, the DNC approving Santos's new pick, etc., but fortunately, he breaks in to declare, "Leo is on the ballot. If I win, he wins. There's nothing we can do about that now." Helen asks what happens , and they explain that the electoral voters can actually vote for any VP. However, if Santos asked them to do that, Vinick could claim he was "circumventing the voters." Santos: "The alternative being..." "Wait until you take office in January and nominate somebody under the 25th Amendment." Lou tries to break in and plead, presumably for a statement, as the other men talk back and forth and their idea seems to gain momentum -- it would be a better option that Vinick would have a harder time challenging. Lou gets her moment and, in a single breath, reminds everyone that the election isn't yet decided and that Santos has to make a statement. Goodwin has a very funny "Huh, that's true..." look on his face. Santos agrees, but doesn't want a fluffy speech: "I lost a friend here tonight, okay?" He's the candidate, yet he's one of the only ones who seems to want to remember that a life was lost this evening. Bram mentions that invisible Mallory is on her way to the hospital, and reports that Josh is there, too. Lou asks if Santos needs him. Santos: "I need Josh to be wherever he needs to be. Get me that statement. Thanks."
Josh is staring past his reflection in the window. Donna approaches him and reports about Ohio, etc. but Josh just sniffles: "Texas?" "Not yet," she replies. Josh recites, "Polls are still open out west. Congressman needs to make a statement. Calm nervous undecideds in California..." This is all said in an uneasy voice; he seems to be keeping himself in check with these things, but he's also distracted. Donna assures him that everything is done; when he clarifies, she reassures him that the staff is taking care of things. He seems to remember, "Somebody needs to tell the President." "I called C.J.," she tells him. Josh still doesn't look up, but turns around to ask about Mallory, and Donna reports, "She just went to call her mom." Josh is back to staring openmouthed, and manages a "Wow." He asks about Santos, and Donna tells him Santos is also in shock. She asks, "Shouldn't we get back to the hotel?" but sympathetically, like she knows he needs to get out of the hospital and the place where Leo just died. All he can say is "So, no Texas?" Donna: "Come on, I'll drive." She guides him out with her arm around him, and he walks off, slumped over.
Vinick's staff is assembled, and Jane's being a right bitch, basically saying that Leo's own people killed him. "They needed him!" Bob says. "They needed a guy with two hundred years' experience to balance out those training wheels." Vinick can't believe Santos hasn't made a statement yet. Jane says that they probably haven't figured out what to say -- snottily; not in a "worried about a man who just died" way, but in a petulant, "I'm sure somehow this too will play to their advantage, and I'm taking my toys and going home" way. Sheila just looks sad. Jane continues to not really read the room, adding, "Hey, sorry, thought he had a few thousand more miles in him! Oops." Vinick looks at her, seemingly disgusted, and Bruno only looks up over his fist, which is holding up his face as he's slumped in a chair. Jane realizes that she's crossed a line -- noticing it seems a bit of a miracle -- and gives a slight apologetic gesture.
Sheila gets back to the matter at hand -- the election -- and points out that they have forty-five minutes and still aren't strong in Southern California. Vinick asks if he should make a statement. Sheila thinks he should, and Jane agrees, pointing out that some of the undecideds are probably Democrats not sure if Santos can do the job without Leo. But she's a lot more bitchy about it; describing Leo "pulling the strings," she looks like she's making a really rude gesture. I don't even have the heart to transcribe her because she's a bitch and the only one who doesn't realize that this is actually sad, and not a political ploy on Santos's part to screw her and only her. Bob says the same thing Jane did, but more tactfully and less self-servingly: "Santos hasn't made a statement because he just lost his rationale for having enough experience to run the country. It's hard to reassure without your reassurance." Vinick tells Bruno, "You're quiet all of a sudden." "Yeah," Bruno replies, as the others look toward him, seeming to have forgotten he was in the room. It's as if this piece of news about someone Bruno knew and respected was what finally broke him. Bob points out just what Team Santos had already expected, which is that if Santo wins, it's fishy: "False advertising. And I'm not sure a Republican Congress would even ratify his election." "If we even GET a Republican Congress," Jane adds, sounding close to tears. God, Jane. It's so obvious that you're only in this for you and don't give a shit about Vinick or anything else. Vinick sounds aghast as he asks if they really mean he should challenge a Santos win. Jane goes on about how Santos is going to eat babies, or something, and Vinick clarifies, "You think I should go out there and say people shouldn't vote for Matt Santos because Leo McGarry died." Jane is rescued (from having to agree that she did in fact mean just that) by Sheila's tactfully pointing out that they should avoid creating a backlash. Vinick seems to have had enough: "How about creating a conscience for ourselves? I've known Leo for twenty years." He's still referring to Leo in the present tense. "Can we please not use him as a stepstool?" Sheila looks at some papers she has just been handed, and Bruno is still silent and slumped. "You think voters don't know what this means without me jamming it down their throats?" Vinick adds. Sheila answers that they're "neck-and-neck" in California: "Texas is still too close to call." If they don't want the election decided by absentee ballots, they need to act now.
The overly good-looking newscaster is on the TV as Santos reassures someone on the phone about why he picked Leo as a running mate, and that he knew of his health issues. "Well I'll take that under advisement. Thanks for the suggestion," he concludes dryly, hanging up. "Senator Kaufer," he tells Helen, "selflessly offering himself as a possible Vice-President in the service of his country." Helen: "God bless America." Lou comes in and hands Santos a speech. When he asks if he'll like it, she replies, "Probably not." She's actually twirling her hair, which seems to suggest that she's more nervous than she's trying to project. They head downstairs to the sound of Foos, and Santos takes Helen's hands. He looks miserable.
Someone interrupts Dave Grohl, who ends the song; there's dead silence, until Lou introduces Santos, announcing that he will make a statement. "America has lost a giant tonight, and I've lost a friend," Santos begins, his voice cracking, and with tears in his eyes. "Leo McGarry dedicated his life to public service -- to the notion that every citizen is responsible for making this country a better place. That we have a sacred duty to participate in our democracy, to leave America stronger for the generation." C.J. is watching the speech on television. "If I win this election, the country will be worse off because Leo McGarry will not be there to help me run it. But I don't want anyone to vote for or against me because of Leo McGarry." Bruno still looks slightly gutted, as Vinick's staff watches the statement. Santos concludes, to the wet eyes of his own staffers, that this is bigger than any one person, and is about America. When he finishes, the eerie silence from the room full of people stretches on. C.J. also watches silently and contemplatively.
The elevator opens in the hotel; Josh, Donna, and Annabeth step out to the stares and parting of everyone in their path. They are greeted with hugs -- even Lou hugging Josh, which really got me, for some reason. Texas, California, Oregon, and Nevada are still all too close. (I refuse to say "to call." There needs to be some other expression for that.) Josh stares at the map, and everyone just continues to call out results, although it's very subdued. Josh quietly says, "Omnes una manet nox." Ronna asks what that was, and Annabeth has her head tilted and looks happy for the memory as she explains that it was "an old campaign saying of Leo's." Donna translates: "'The same night awaits us all.'" More results are delivered: the Democrats will probably get the House while the Republicans will keep the Senate majority. Donna asks, "And the president's son-in-law?" "Double-digit whipping," Bram answers. "He's about to concede any second." "If he can find the podium," Lou adds. Josh asks, "Are they playing it as a defeat for the First Family?" "I think they're playing it as a victory for his Congressional district," Bram replies, which gives Josh a weak but much-needed chuckle. There's Jed's "whoop," right there.
Speaking of Jed, he's now on the phone with Ellie, assuring her that he'll be okay. As Jed hangs up, C.J. walks in tentatively, papers in her hand: it's a list of the condolence calls that have come in. Jed looks it over, and they glance at the newscast. "It's odd, really, watching yourself be replaced on national television. Planned obsolescence. Presidents and mid-sized sedans." Bartlet: The Oldsmobile President. He seems to be trying to get a smile out of C.J., who manages a wan one and replies, "Yes, sir." She then asks him if he would run again if he could, but he only answers, "I think Mrs. Bartlet might have had something to say about that." "Well, the electorate can be very persuasive when they want something badly enough," C.J. says. "In the service of two mistresses these past eight years. That's been my fate. Thank God for the 22nd Amendment. I'm spared that particular conversation with Abbey." He chuckles, but then stops and stares at the TV, at nothing, and recalls the first time he met Leo, and that they argued. "Who won?" C.J. asks. "I did. I'm sure if you could ask him, he'd say he did." Poor C.J. looks so physically pained trying to smile that it makes my heart break. Jed gets serious and tells her that they "almost lost him" fifteen years ago. He pauses and quietly admits, "I was prepared then. Not today." C.J. looks despondent, and the tears begin to well again in Jed's eyes.
11:45 PM CST. Josh is leaning over something and looking troubled as Donna announces to the room, "CBS may call Maine for Vinick." "Tell them they can't!" orders Lou. Really? That's how it works? Neato. Donna seems as suspicious of that order as I am: "Great, I'll pretend I'm their political director." Lou's frantic: "We're less than a tenth of a percentage point apart. Anything below one percent is an automatic retabulation. I've got fifty election lawyers waiting by the judicial courthouse in Augusta. Now get on the phone and tell them they can't." ["'Election lawyer' is an actual specialty? In odd-numbered years, do they just wait tables?" -- Wing Chun] Donna goes off to make her call, armed with some more factual ammunition, and Edie points out that they have zero lawyers in Oregon, which has twice the votes as Maine. Gee, I wonder if this is possibly going to come back as a plot point. Edie tells her they thought Oregon was "safe," and Ronna freaks: "Well it's not safe! It's dangerously unsafe! It's unsafe at any speed!" They freak out back and forth until Lou shoots in the actual solution to send two lawyers from Nevada up to Oregon. Lou asks about the ballroom where, apparently, "the [sic] Foo Fighters ran out their playlist, Dave Matthews is on his third encore, and the bar's out of Corona." Running down her to-do list, Lou then asks, "How are we coming on the too-close-to-call, time-to-go-home-and-get-some-sleep statement?" Bram tells her that Santos is going over it. Josh seems to snap out of his dream-state to jump in and say no way. Bram says that Santos wanted to see it, but Josh raises his voice to assert that Santos will not deliver that statement personally; if need be, Goodwin will: "Don't turn the President of the United States into a junior high school principal." At this, Donna, sounding a little bit tired and panicky, asks if it will go all night. Conveniently, Bram's able to say, "Maybe not; turn up the volume." It's just like the elevators. Vermont and Iowa go to Vinick, which sends Lou's head into her hands. But though she looks tired, her hair has that perfect messy wave that I strive for, but always just end up at messy. At least you're looking good, Lou. Hair distracts from eyebrows, I've heard. Ronna then notices another anchor on another screen giving Maine to Vinick, too.
Vinick's staff is bursting with applause and whoops of their own, but Bruno the Anti-Josh is still tense, standing in front of the TV. Jane announces that they lost the House, just so that she can bring down the mood. Bob asks her, "How did the speaker sound?" "He sounded unemployed," she says. With that, they turn back to the talking head, who finally announces one of the biggest outcomes of the night: Texas is going to Santos. Heads hang at Vinick's office...
...but champagne pops at Santos HQ. I'm getting a little bit worried that with all of these ups and downs every few minutes, someone is going to end up with a neck pull, but so far it seems safe. Donna tries to be a bit cautious, but Lou's the one holding the champagne, and is clearly resting easier now. Bram runs into the hall and sweeps a joyous Ronna up over his shoulder and swings her around. It's a really sweet moment and a welcome relief from the grief. Everyone breaks into "Deep In The Heart Of Texas," and I love that, in the background, someone runs into the war room with red and blue thunder sticks, just apropos of nothing. She's not using them, she's just running with them. Bram turns and sees Santos, and they share a glance as he sweeps Helen into a dance. Donna joins the fray but is the only person not happy as she looks around. Bram notices her and announces, "It's all down to California now," but she's looking for Josh.
Donna walks through the revelers and then comes out the elevator on a different floor, asking a Secret Service agent if he's seen Josh; she's directed to Leo's room. Inside, Josh is just leaning against the couch and staring at everything left in the room. Leo's glasses are still on the table to his watch, ready to be put on so he can head to the ballroom. Every item to be seen is a symbol of a life not meant to stop in a split second. Josh loudly chokes and sniffles and wipes his hand on his sleeve, saying through tears that he's called Housekeeping to clean up everything left by the paramedics, so that Mallory will be spared seeing it. I like that they worked her in -- I'm sorry we couldn't see her, but I think it would have been stranger to wonder where Leo's daughter was throughout the night rather than to hear it confirmed that she was there. Donna tells him somberly, "We won Texas," and Josh chortles. She continues: "And California would put us over. You've done a remarkable thing. Win or lose. An extraordinary thing." She's clearly sad, but even more worried about making Josh okay, and the look in her eyes is amazing with the level of worry and caring that's reflected. Josh's crying becomes audible, and in a gut-wrenching moment, he spits, "I talked him into this, into joining the ticket." The guilt on his shoulders is almost visible through the pain in his voice. Donna gently counters, "No one ever talked Leo into doing anything he didn't want to do. And he'd want you upstairs, not down here. You belong up there; it's your night." She takes a step toward him and adds, "He was so proud of you, Josh." Josh just drops his head clumsily into Donna's chest as she lays her hand on his arm, and there's a long, sad shot of them framed by the mess left by the paramedics all over the floor.
Vinick is still watching the news and announces that if he loses California, he's packing up and heading home. Bruno asserts that he's not going to lose, Bob starts the ever-helpful musing about where they should have spent more time, Jane adds in her special flavor of bickering with a heaping helping of negativity, and then it comes back to Bruno to be the reluctant cheerleader, saying they did all that they could. Bob points out that they can challenge the results in court, but Bruno contests, "They'll laugh you out of the courthouse." The noise in the room increases, everyone trying to interrupt everyone else, but Vinick is silent, and then declares, "Everybody, shut up." Arnold Vinick, marry me. He states that the reason they're weak is not Leo, but San Andreo. Bob tries to counter that it isn't the reason they were weak elsewhere, but Vinick is having none of it, and names circumstance and history as deciding the outcome of this election. Sheila is still in the room -- I had no idea, because I didn't hear her in the fray, but that might have just been Jane's incessant bleating. Sheila can obviously read Vinick better than anyone, and stays silent. Bob tells Vinick that Hodder is holding a meeting now -- he desperately wants to talk to the lawyers -- but Vinick just wants a direct number for Santos at the ready. Jane refuses, but Vinick insists that he'll call Santos as soon as California is called. Suddenly looking around, Vinick also asks for his daughter, and is told she's upstairs with his grandkids. Bruno breaks in to order them to turn up the TV, which announces a late Vinick surge.
Filing back into the war room from the singing, Santos HQ hears the same thing. And with that, the talking heads call California for Vinick. Oregon and Nevada are the only states left without a verdict; to win, Santos must claim both of them. Josh orders all of the campaign's lawyers mobilized there immediately, Santos manages a nervous grimace at Helen, and they all scuttle off.
3:30 AM CST. The ballroom crowd is alternately napping and reading, and there's a whole lot of news coverage narration recapping the two remaining states and the possible legal brouhaha to follow. We're gonna need a montage! Everyone's doing a lot of highlighting and murmuring. Vinick is watching on his couch as his daughter and granddaughters sleep on the sofa to him. Helen types away on the computer. Fine! I get it! We're waiting! Even I'm bored. Lou and Bram enter, and Santos asks if the concession speech is ready, but she only replies that he won't need it. Ignoring her, he asks that they make sure to assure the public that the loss is not a racial issue, to which Lou agrees, and as she walks out, Santos tells Bram to get the number for Vinick. Wow, this all sounds so similar to something I just typed up from another candidate's hotel room. Out in the hall, Lou runs up to Bram, all munchkin-like, and orders him to check with her before giving Santos the number. Bram, in a dim moment, explains beseechingly that Santos asked for it, and I love Lou for saying "If I didn't know what he said, why would I tell you to ignore it?" Yeah, Bram.
Bruno's pouring coffee, which Bob comments on. Wait a second, is this to tell us that they have been up and might be tired? Bruno: "I was just going to mainline adrenaline. Couldn't find a clean needle." Bruno seems really not amused. They sit down, and Bob offers that they should go into business after the election: "Ying and Yang Political Consultants, Inc. Our motto can be, 'It ain't about the ideals, it's about the money, stupid.'" Bruno actually chuckles: "Pithy -- you don't think it might scare off prospective clients?" Bob: "Only the neophytes. We'd be fighting off five-term congressmen with a stick." Soberly, he adds, "Seriously, we should talk about it." Bruno seems surprised that Bob wouldn't stay with Vinick, but when he starts listing the perks of working in a Vinick administration -- such as a tiny cubicle -- his opinion of the job becomes clear. Bob says that he much prefers the competition to making things work in office. Bruno tells him sincerely, "Thanks. But I am done." He wants to go to Essex County, to his big house, where he can plant flowers. Bob's face mirrors mine: his eyebrows actually seem to hover above his hairline, he's so skeptical, but damned if Bruno doesn't at least sound serious this very moment.
The Crisis Legal Excitable Team, or whatever they're called, are discussing all the potential legal action they can take if Santos loses. Santos is drinking coffee; I guess he's listening. Lou points out that if they win, they can expect to be hit with legal action. Goodwin and another guy volley back and forth, testing their possible arguments about shenanigans, while Josh and Santos just exchange a look over their heads. Everyone else seems to be grasping at the legal solution, but Santos seems disgusted: "Well, if that's how I win, that gives me a mandate for, what, chasing ambulances?" There's pounding on the door, and Bram runs in all ruffled to say that they won Oregon. Moyer is talking again and delivering just a horrible, embarrassing pun: "But what happens in Nevada tonight certainly won't STAY in Nevada." Kids, that's called "trying too hard to be funny."
Watching the same horrific wordplay on television in the Vinick camp, there's a lot of pacing, worrying, and self-flagellation. Sheila tells Vinick that they've got lawyers to demand a recount. Vinick asserts, "No." Bruno tries to add a point and only gets another "No." Sheila tries to assure Vinick that this isn't a frivolous lawsuit he's been speaking against, and as he agrees, she counters that this is merely about making sure the right person won the election. Meanwhile, Jane looks on incredulously. She is such a massive waste of space in this scene. Bruno continues his argument, but Vinick wants the last word: "I'll be a winner, or I'll be a loser. But I won't be a sore loser." But he will not have the last word, as Bruno assures him that, if he wins, the Democrats will file a lawsuit. (Ah, the old "I jumped off the cliff because he did" routine. "But Mo-ooom, they were going to file the lawsuit FIRST!") Sheila tells Vinick that if he doesn't challenge, that he'll regret it for the rest of his life.
4:45 AM CST, Josh looks out the window in the hallway. Santos approaches, hands in his pockets, and offers a "Hey." Josh turns, startled, and asks if he needs anything; Santos quickly assures him that he doesn't need a thing: "I had to get out of that room. Same old talking heads, babbling the same drivel to fill up airtime. They could just run it in a continuous loop; no one would even notice tonight." And, welcome to the world of news, Santos. He jokingly asks if they even campaigned in Nevada, and Josh confirms that they did, for an exceptional twenty minutes, when they really should have had him move there: "Maybe even headline a show at the MGM Grand." Santos seems to have the best attitude of everyone there, shrugging, "Who knew?" He warns Josh that Goodwin and the lawyers are planning a huge contest if he doesn't win, and asks what Josh thinks. Josh cagily tells him that he's got a great legal team, but Santos wants a real, honest answer. Josh raises his eyebrows and seems pleased to be asked: "I think you're young, smart, the party's presumptive nominee four years from now, win or lose. You take it to court, you're the guy who screams at the ump because you don't like the call at the plate. Nobody votes for that guy again." Santos is silent, and Josh's face almost looks like maaaaybe he shouldn't have said that, but I think Santos was just looking for a shot of honesty. Santos moseys and turns off the light, and Josh doesn't turn. (On paper, that sounds a lot more sexy and a lot less solemn than it played out on television.) Santos looks at Josh and finally says, "Been a hell of a ride though, hasn't it?" Josh agrees, and right then Ronna comes in to say that they are about to call it.
A phone rings in a dark room, where Bartlet has been sleeping; he says into the phone, "Send her in." He clicks on the light and looks at C.J., bleary-eyed. "Sorry to disturb you, Mr. President," she says, "but you wanted me to wake you when there was a result?" She looks fifty times better than earlier -- good news has helped lessen the sting and take a few pounds off of her shoulders, at least. "Do we have a winner?" he asks groggily. "Yes, sir, we do," she grins.
The Santos room is screaming, cheering, and popping champagne. Josh watches the TV, and after a long moment, he dramatically thrusts both hands into the air. What? I don't know. It's a strange moment that doesn't seem to play like they thought it would on camera, but if that's my biggest gripe with this episode, I'll take it. He turns and grabs Donna in a huge, tight embrace; over her shoulder, he sees Santos hugging his own blonde. Over the din, Santos happily mouths, "Thank you," and Josh mouths back, "You're welcome." He continues to clutch Donna, but happily.
The mood is somber in Vinick's room, where he's asked if he really doesn't want to call on the waiting lawyers. Vinick: "You really think it's a counting error? Anyone know how many Hispanics live in Nevada now?" Bob classily replies by asking if he knows how many of those are illegal. Everyone is staring at Vinick, and he finally just sits back. He's resigned, and tells them, "Get the President-Elect on the phone. I want to congratulate him." Everyone stares at him as if he's not really sure what he's saying, but he seems resigned and sure.
The ballroom is chaotic. Lou calls for attention to introduce the new President-Elect. In the crowd, Bram tells Santos that his speech is on the podium. Santos thanks him, "for everything." Bram looks proud and tells him, "This is the best thing I've ever done in my life." Santos happily replies, "I think we may find a way to top it." As Lou introduces the President and First Lady, Helen hides her head a second but is grinning as she turns back around and they ascend the stage. It's nice to see her really genuinely happy for her husband -- that's something that's been missing for a while. U2's "Beautiful Day" plays, and the best part of this scene is that my captions are showing the lyrics for "Beautiful Day," but for a completely different verse than what is actually playing.
Vinick is in his hotel room, alone and washing his face as he hears Santos thank him on television and ask the crowd to give him a hand: "Arnie Vinick made this a better campaign, and he's made this a better country, for all of us." Vinick takes a deep breath, a man saddened by the end of the road. As Santos continues to speak, Josh is in the war room, which looks...well, like a war hit it. He colors Nevada blue and tallies the total on the whiteboard to show Santos as the winner. Donna is walking by and stops in the doorway when she sees Josh and just quietly observes. He stands and contemplates, and walks forward, not to Donna (who I'm not sure he's seen) but to a bulletin board with photos from the campaign tacked up, including one featuring Leo with arms upraised and that great smile. Santos says, "God bless America." Josh whispers, "Thanks, Boss." And I get a little bit misty. Again.