OC Fic : No Good Deed (3/3)
Title : No Good Deed
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13
Summary : Written for chazper's Sandy is a... What? challenge. In this, Sandy is a presidential candidate.
Spoilers : This is wildly AU, so no spoilers.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN. Many thanks to joey51 for beta'ing this, and to chazper for organizing the challenge in the first place. It was great fun to write…
2013
"So, how's our future former President doing?" Seth asked when he entered the room, looking around curiously, as if to familiarize himself with the surroundings again.
Of course, after living in a dorm in College for years (and then, in his own apartment), Ryan found the Residence foreign as well.
Funny how many places he had considered home in a few short years, when he thought about it. Which he tried not to; despite the years that had passed, it was still difficult to forget where he came from and what he had gone through.
"Ryan?" Seth called.
He startled out of his thoughts with a sheepish smile. "Sorry." He gestured around. "Guess the big move is weird for me too."
"Yeah." Seth sat down on the chair facing Ryan and put his feet up on the coffee table. "I know what you mean. Strange to think we spent a few years here. It seems like a lifetime ago."
It was, Ryan thought. College had changed them both-just as it was supposed to.
For one thing, living their lives on opposite sides of the country (Seth in New York, Ryan in California), it had become a lot easier for Ryan to stand up to Seth and fight for his opinions-something he had found damn difficult to do when he had first moved in with the Cohens as a teenager.
It felt like having a brother again-a real brother, not a best friend to play with, but someone he knew would always be here, even after a fight, even when no one else would.
Thankfully, his relationship with Seth had never been as strained as his relationship with Trey-Trey, who was back in jail for selling drugs to pay off the debt he had asked Ryan for the money to settle.
No matter how many times Ryan had been told that Trey was an adult and made his own choices, it didn't make it easier to swallow. He had gone to see Trey a few times, but things between them were difficult.
Trey resented him for lucking out.
There was very little Ryan could do to change that.
"You're spacing again," Seth said.
Ryan sighed, swallowing back an impulsive urge to apologize. "I went to see Trey before I caught a flight here."
He didn't need to say more.
Seth nodded and abruptly changed the subject, seeming to understand that Ryan didn't want to talk about the visit, or about Trey, or about anything relating to his other family. "Is Dad ready for retirement?" he asked.
Ryan shrugged. He had arrived in DC two days earlier, but that didn't mean he had a lot more information than Seth did. Sandy was keeping suspiciously busy; chances were, he didn't want to give himself time to think. "He says he wants to keep working. He just doesn't know what to do, I guess."
"But there isn't a lot left for him to do, right? I mean, unless someone declares war to us in the next twenty-four hours, he's pretty much done here."
"Yes."
But if he knew the man, Sandy was probably wondering if he had done enough, and how he could have made more of a difference.
"Maybe he should just start to write his memoirs," Seth suggested. "He has to, at some point." His face brightened. "I could make it a comic book series!"
The worst part of it was, Ryan was pretty sure that Seth was not only serious about it, but perfectly capable of pulling it off.
Sandy's voice, coming from the doorway, interrupted them before Ryan could start talking Seth out of it. "Very funny, son. Everyone's a comedian, these days." He made a face as he walked into the room to hug Seth. "When's the last time you showered?" he asked.
"My girlfriend's back to saving whales, or whatever," Seth replied. "Where she goes, so does my empire."
"But not, it turns out, showers," Ryan threw in, and was rewarded with a smile from Sandy and a pillow in the face, courtesy of Seth.
Home, sweet home, he thought.
*
"All joking aside," Ryan said, entering the Oval Office later that night, once he was sure everyone but Sandy had left. "How are you doing?"
He did a good job of sitting down on the couch without looking around too much (something he always found difficult, the rare few times he came into the room).
Sandy was looking around, though, studying everything. In exactly two days, someone else would be sitting behind that desk and it would be over.
In two days, strangers would occupy the Residence that had been their home for the past eight years.
If it felt weird to Ryan, but what must it be like for Sandy, who had invested so much of his time, his energy, his life, into this?
"Ah," Sandy said. "I think I'm gonna have a hard time topping this."
Ryan nodded. "Yeah. I guess so." He smiled. "But you'll still be called from time to time, right? I mean, former Presidents still do events and conventions and..." He trailed off.
It wouldn't be the same thing, and Sandy knew that.
Sandy passed a hand through his hair. "Former Presidents are just that: former Presidents. They're not the ones making the decisions."
"You did a good job," Ryan said. Sometimes, most times, he had a hard time believing that Sandy, the man who had been more of a father to him than Frank ever had, was the same man he kept seeing in the newspapers, elaborating policies and fighting to give all Americans a better life. "No war. The economy is going well, from what I gather."
Sandy waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, well," he said, as if it had been easy. "Maybe..." he started, "I don't know, maybe I should have waited before running. Spent more time watching you guys grow up."
"We were mostly grown when you ran," Ryan pointed out. I was mostly grown before you even met me. And you still made such an impact... Did I ever properly thank you for that?
"Yes, I know, but..."
Ryan walked to him, put a hand on his shoulder-and startled a little to realize that it was probably the first time he had done that, maybe even the first time he initiated contact between them. "We were fine. We're fine." He chuckled. "And if Seth and Summer keep at it the way he claims they are-" He stopped long enough to allow Sandy to protest his wording before going on, "You're gonna be seeing your grandkids growing up pretty fast."
Sandy shook himself, and put a hand on Ryan's, patting it softly.
"You're right." He looked up at him. "And I believe that this is my cue to ask inappropriate questions about your private life."
Ryan groaned, but he had walked right into that one-mostly on purpose.
For one thing, it would distract Sandy. For another, announcing to the world that he had met someone wasn't his style-he left the grand gestures and the big speeches to Seth-but if asked a direct question, he didn't mind replying.
And he really wanted Sandy and Seth to meet Taylor, because he was pretty sure he was going to marry her, eventually.
"No kids on the agenda yet," he informed Sandy. "But next time you're in California, if you promise not to bring the mood down with stories of your former glory as the President..." Sandy swatted at him for that and he laughed. "There might be someone I'd like you to meet."
"He or she?" Sandy asked, dragging a surprised snort out of Ryan.
"She," he said. "She's..."
He trailed off and Sandy nodded, suddenly grave. "Serious, then."
"Yeah."
"I did have The Talk with you, right?"
"You're going to make fun of me all night, aren't you?"
"Ah, kid, isn't that what fathers are for?"
*
When all was said and done, when the parties were over, the cakes were eaten and the alcohol drunk, when the last speeches were delivered and the personal effects packed and shipped off to California, it was only them-Sandy, Seth and Ryan-sitting in the Residence for the last time.
"Unless one of us comes back?" Sandy said, looking pointedly at his sons.
Who both looked down, and up, and away.
"I see." Sandy shrugged. "Ah, well, I don't blame you."
"If it makes you feel any better," Ryan offered, "if Taylor has her way, I just might become the first First Gentleman."
Not that Taylor showed any interest in politics, but in the ten months he had known her, she had shown an almost frightening ability to do anything she put her mind to.
She was a force of nature-though not more so than her mother; she may complain that meeting his family was going to mean meeting a former President, but Sandy was a lot less intimidating that Veronica Townsend.
He almost shuddered to think of what would happen if Taylor decided to go into politics.
"I really need to meet this girl," Sandy said.
"As soon as we get to California," Ryan promised.
There was a companionable silence as the three of them sipped their beer.
"It has been a year of lasts," Sandy said, apropos of nothing. "Last state of the union, last bill to pass, last speech to write."
"Last beer in the Residence before we can jet," Seth added, raising his can.
"That too." Sandy looked around. "Damn, I'll miss this place."
So would Ryan, and he realized so with no small amount of surprise.
But it was time to go-time to leave the place where the three of them had learned how to be a family.
"Well, kids," Sandy said, finishing his beer. "Let's go, then."
Together, they walked out, ready to build another life-a new life-for themselves.
end
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13
Summary : Written for chazper's Sandy is a... What? challenge. In this, Sandy is a presidential candidate.
Spoilers : This is wildly AU, so no spoilers.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN. Many thanks to joey51 for beta'ing this, and to chazper for organizing the challenge in the first place. It was great fun to write…
2013
"So, how's our future former President doing?" Seth asked when he entered the room, looking around curiously, as if to familiarize himself with the surroundings again.
Of course, after living in a dorm in College for years (and then, in his own apartment), Ryan found the Residence foreign as well.
Funny how many places he had considered home in a few short years, when he thought about it. Which he tried not to; despite the years that had passed, it was still difficult to forget where he came from and what he had gone through.
"Ryan?" Seth called.
He startled out of his thoughts with a sheepish smile. "Sorry." He gestured around. "Guess the big move is weird for me too."
"Yeah." Seth sat down on the chair facing Ryan and put his feet up on the coffee table. "I know what you mean. Strange to think we spent a few years here. It seems like a lifetime ago."
It was, Ryan thought. College had changed them both-just as it was supposed to.
For one thing, living their lives on opposite sides of the country (Seth in New York, Ryan in California), it had become a lot easier for Ryan to stand up to Seth and fight for his opinions-something he had found damn difficult to do when he had first moved in with the Cohens as a teenager.
It felt like having a brother again-a real brother, not a best friend to play with, but someone he knew would always be here, even after a fight, even when no one else would.
Thankfully, his relationship with Seth had never been as strained as his relationship with Trey-Trey, who was back in jail for selling drugs to pay off the debt he had asked Ryan for the money to settle.
No matter how many times Ryan had been told that Trey was an adult and made his own choices, it didn't make it easier to swallow. He had gone to see Trey a few times, but things between them were difficult.
Trey resented him for lucking out.
There was very little Ryan could do to change that.
"You're spacing again," Seth said.
Ryan sighed, swallowing back an impulsive urge to apologize. "I went to see Trey before I caught a flight here."
He didn't need to say more.
Seth nodded and abruptly changed the subject, seeming to understand that Ryan didn't want to talk about the visit, or about Trey, or about anything relating to his other family. "Is Dad ready for retirement?" he asked.
Ryan shrugged. He had arrived in DC two days earlier, but that didn't mean he had a lot more information than Seth did. Sandy was keeping suspiciously busy; chances were, he didn't want to give himself time to think. "He says he wants to keep working. He just doesn't know what to do, I guess."
"But there isn't a lot left for him to do, right? I mean, unless someone declares war to us in the next twenty-four hours, he's pretty much done here."
"Yes."
But if he knew the man, Sandy was probably wondering if he had done enough, and how he could have made more of a difference.
"Maybe he should just start to write his memoirs," Seth suggested. "He has to, at some point." His face brightened. "I could make it a comic book series!"
The worst part of it was, Ryan was pretty sure that Seth was not only serious about it, but perfectly capable of pulling it off.
Sandy's voice, coming from the doorway, interrupted them before Ryan could start talking Seth out of it. "Very funny, son. Everyone's a comedian, these days." He made a face as he walked into the room to hug Seth. "When's the last time you showered?" he asked.
"My girlfriend's back to saving whales, or whatever," Seth replied. "Where she goes, so does my empire."
"But not, it turns out, showers," Ryan threw in, and was rewarded with a smile from Sandy and a pillow in the face, courtesy of Seth.
Home, sweet home, he thought.
*
"All joking aside," Ryan said, entering the Oval Office later that night, once he was sure everyone but Sandy had left. "How are you doing?"
He did a good job of sitting down on the couch without looking around too much (something he always found difficult, the rare few times he came into the room).
Sandy was looking around, though, studying everything. In exactly two days, someone else would be sitting behind that desk and it would be over.
In two days, strangers would occupy the Residence that had been their home for the past eight years.
If it felt weird to Ryan, but what must it be like for Sandy, who had invested so much of his time, his energy, his life, into this?
"Ah," Sandy said. "I think I'm gonna have a hard time topping this."
Ryan nodded. "Yeah. I guess so." He smiled. "But you'll still be called from time to time, right? I mean, former Presidents still do events and conventions and..." He trailed off.
It wouldn't be the same thing, and Sandy knew that.
Sandy passed a hand through his hair. "Former Presidents are just that: former Presidents. They're not the ones making the decisions."
"You did a good job," Ryan said. Sometimes, most times, he had a hard time believing that Sandy, the man who had been more of a father to him than Frank ever had, was the same man he kept seeing in the newspapers, elaborating policies and fighting to give all Americans a better life. "No war. The economy is going well, from what I gather."
Sandy waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, well," he said, as if it had been easy. "Maybe..." he started, "I don't know, maybe I should have waited before running. Spent more time watching you guys grow up."
"We were mostly grown when you ran," Ryan pointed out. I was mostly grown before you even met me. And you still made such an impact... Did I ever properly thank you for that?
"Yes, I know, but..."
Ryan walked to him, put a hand on his shoulder-and startled a little to realize that it was probably the first time he had done that, maybe even the first time he initiated contact between them. "We were fine. We're fine." He chuckled. "And if Seth and Summer keep at it the way he claims they are-" He stopped long enough to allow Sandy to protest his wording before going on, "You're gonna be seeing your grandkids growing up pretty fast."
Sandy shook himself, and put a hand on Ryan's, patting it softly.
"You're right." He looked up at him. "And I believe that this is my cue to ask inappropriate questions about your private life."
Ryan groaned, but he had walked right into that one-mostly on purpose.
For one thing, it would distract Sandy. For another, announcing to the world that he had met someone wasn't his style-he left the grand gestures and the big speeches to Seth-but if asked a direct question, he didn't mind replying.
And he really wanted Sandy and Seth to meet Taylor, because he was pretty sure he was going to marry her, eventually.
"No kids on the agenda yet," he informed Sandy. "But next time you're in California, if you promise not to bring the mood down with stories of your former glory as the President..." Sandy swatted at him for that and he laughed. "There might be someone I'd like you to meet."
"He or she?" Sandy asked, dragging a surprised snort out of Ryan.
"She," he said. "She's..."
He trailed off and Sandy nodded, suddenly grave. "Serious, then."
"Yeah."
"I did have The Talk with you, right?"
"You're going to make fun of me all night, aren't you?"
"Ah, kid, isn't that what fathers are for?"
*
When all was said and done, when the parties were over, the cakes were eaten and the alcohol drunk, when the last speeches were delivered and the personal effects packed and shipped off to California, it was only them-Sandy, Seth and Ryan-sitting in the Residence for the last time.
"Unless one of us comes back?" Sandy said, looking pointedly at his sons.
Who both looked down, and up, and away.
"I see." Sandy shrugged. "Ah, well, I don't blame you."
"If it makes you feel any better," Ryan offered, "if Taylor has her way, I just might become the first First Gentleman."
Not that Taylor showed any interest in politics, but in the ten months he had known her, she had shown an almost frightening ability to do anything she put her mind to.
She was a force of nature-though not more so than her mother; she may complain that meeting his family was going to mean meeting a former President, but Sandy was a lot less intimidating that Veronica Townsend.
He almost shuddered to think of what would happen if Taylor decided to go into politics.
"I really need to meet this girl," Sandy said.
"As soon as we get to California," Ryan promised.
There was a companionable silence as the three of them sipped their beer.
"It has been a year of lasts," Sandy said, apropos of nothing. "Last state of the union, last bill to pass, last speech to write."
"Last beer in the Residence before we can jet," Seth added, raising his can.
"That too." Sandy looked around. "Damn, I'll miss this place."
So would Ryan, and he realized so with no small amount of surprise.
But it was time to go-time to leave the place where the three of them had learned how to be a family.
"Well, kids," Sandy said, finishing his beer. "Let's go, then."
Together, they walked out, ready to build another life-a new life-for themselves.
end