Title: A Mentor for Joanie Part 6/?

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Joanie goes to Notre Dame for her first interview with Josiah Bartlet.

Note: Thanks to everyone who sent me feedback, I make it a priority to send back a thanks. : ) Also to all you shipper fans who wondered what happens with Joanie and Leo...wait till part 7. ::wink::

Dedication: To my West Wing groupie pals, Len, Kira, Sesh and Claire. You guys are great. : )

A Mentor for Joanie Part 6: The Fighting Irish.

"Joanie! GET UP!"

I groan and open my eyes slowly.

Remember what I said earlier...I'm not a morning person.

This time my eyes open not to see my bedroom in Hartford at my parent's, and not even my room at Harvard, but rather Leo's room at Harvard...and there's a big hairy face in my face.

"Kennedy!" I moan. "Dog breath." I push Kennedy off the bed and get up slowly. I walk back to my room and get changed as quickly as possible. Tee shirt and jeans, my usual.

ëJoanie!" Leo comes bursting in to my room, phone in hand.

"LEO! Knock, would you!"

"Sorry," Leo exits, closes the door and knocks.

That sarcastic pain in the neck.

I yell at him to come in and that its senseless to knock now that he's already broken in.

"Sorry, but you've got a phone call," Leo shrugs and I snatch the phone from him.

"Hello?" I bark in to the phone, harsher than I may have meant...damn it, I'm still tired.

"Joanie! Are you excited?"

"Lori," I sigh. "Yeah, I am I just got to pack and all that crap. You know I don't think I should bother un-packing from my other trips. I'll just live out of my suit case!"

Lori laughs and says, "So Leo told me about yesterday."

"What about yesterday?"

"He met somebody?"

I snort, "Yeah he did. You wouldn't like her, Lori."

"Why?"

"She's...you."

"Ugh, you're right."

I smile, I'm glad now she isn't so supportive of Leo and Lana. All during our teen years Lori definitely was the one who got all the boyfriends and dressed like a cheerleader...much to her mother's dismay. CJ always said she hoped Lori would out grow it...and thank god she did. Although I think a part of her is still the guy magnet she was before.

"Oh! Joanie, my mom wants to say something to you real fast," Lori says.

"Okay."

I hear the phone being shuffled and I swear Toby yelling in the back ground before CJ's voice greets me, "Hey Joan."

"Hey CJ! What's up?"

"Listen I read in the TV guide that Notre Dame is playing Michigan today."

"And...?"

"Listen you probably some time during your life was given a Notre Dame tee shirt from Bartlet. Find it and put it on and don't ever root for Michigan," CJ rambles.

"Can I ask why I'm doing this?" I ask as I walk back to my closet and fish out a Notre Dame tee.

"Trust me."

"Okay," I shrug on the shirt. "I'm wearing it."

"Good, than you're all set."

"Thanks CJ," I smile, still wondering what this is about.

"No problem, kid, tell Bartlet hi for me."

"Sure," I promise. "Listen, how are my parent's doing?"

"Good," CJ says. "The Iowa Primary is the day after tomorrow, you going to come up?"

"Yeah, I may as well rack up the frequent flier miles," I sigh. "I'll be there."

"Good, your mother convinced Noah to come down so I think everybody will be here."

"Woah, how did she convince Noah to leave work?"

"Something about writing him out of the will..."

I laugh, "Yeah that might do it. I'll see you later, CJ."

"Bye, hon, good luck."

I hang up the phone and walk back to the kitchen where I hang it in it's place. Leo's unwrapping a bagel and he tosses one at me.

"Thanks, hey, you coming up with me for the Iowa Primary on Thursday?" I ask, lunging of the cream cheese, which Leo maneuvers out of my reach.

"Sure, you know classes start again the week after tomorrow," Leo points out, putting cream cheese on his bagel before handing me the dish.

"Yeah I know," I sigh. "Damn...school again."

"It's our last year, Joanie, it'll be fine," Leo shrugs. "Then you can work on your father's campaign.

"Who said I wanted to?" I ask.

"No one...I just assumed."

I shrug. Maybe I do...and maybe I don't. I don't want anyone to think the only reason I got a job was my father.

"You should start moving," Leo says, looking at the clock. "I'll get your suitcase out."

"Kay," I sigh and we start back to my room where I quickly toss together a suitcase and a carry on. "You'll take care of Kennedy while I'm gone, right?"

"Only if he promises not to leave any more pieces of raw hide in my bed..."

"Leo, please," I whine.

"Fine," he sighs. "We'll be fine." Leo gazes over at Kennedy, who just cocks his head to one side as if saying I suppose so...

"Drive me to the airport?" I ask Leo.

I'm jumping up and down in front of the gate, I'm that nervous. I gaze from side to side, wondering if I'm at the right place. What if I'm not? What if I miss my flight? What if Bartlet decides he doesn't want to meet with me?

Oh God I think I'm going to throw up.

"Joanie for the love of God would you please stand still," Leo says from behind me.

"I can't help it," I explain. "I'm too nervous...and excited."

"Joanie you'll be fine, but if you bounce too much you're going to throw up the breakfast I made for you."

He's right and I settle down slowly.

Then the speakers above us say "Flight 223 is now boarding at gate 7b."

"Ack! That's me," I leap into the air again. I turn and take my carry on from Leo. "Wish me luck," I beg.

"Good luck...but you don't need it," Leo says softly. "You'll be fine."

"Yeah...I know."

"Call me when you get in."

"I will."

Stand on my toes and hug him quickly. He smells like that cologne I bought for him last year he insisted he would never wear. I smile and let go before slowly walking towards the gate.

"Joanie, if you walk any slower you'll be going backwards," Leo snorts.

Okay, that sweet moment was definitely over.

"Watch it Seaborn," I threaten and walk faster towards the gate. I hand my ticket to the stewardess and walk on the plane.

Ugh...it's a miracle I didn't throw up on the plane. An absolute miracle.

I mean I normally get queasy on a plane, but with my nervousness thrown in I'm surprised I didn't loose my breakfast all over the nice doctor next to me. At least he could have given me medicine.

So I walk out of the plane looking kind of...dead...and wondering how the hell I'm going to get to Notre Dame.

"Joan Lyman?"

I frown, who in the world calls me Joan? I turn around to see a woman with dark brown hair; gray interwoven in it she still looks amazing. There's a man in a black tux and sunglasses with a speaker in his ear behind her.

"Yes," I say slowly.

"I'm Abigail Bartlet," she smiles at me. "I'm here on your father and my husband's request that you might get yourself lost. I assured them you were a capable bright young women but these are stubborn men we are affiliated with, I'm sorry to say."

I have no idea what to say to that. I mean, I've heard stories about the former first lady being a strait forward, honest go get ëem kinda person but I never expected this.

"Um...yes..." I say slowly.

"Come this way to the car, Chris doesn't mind carrying your things, honestly what else will he do?" Abbey laughs and I hand the Secret Service guy my bags.

We walk together towards where she has a car ready and I climb into the back.

"I love your shirt, Joanie," Abbey says once we start driving off.

"Oh thanks...CJ told me to wear it," I laugh. To my surprise Abbey starts laughing harder than I did. Obviously I'm missing something.

"That's because," Abbey says with broken laughs. "Once the President made her go on a trip because she made fun of Notre Dame."

"Oh...okay, now I get it."

Abbey keeps laughing before saying, "Oh those were great times."

The ride isn't very long before we reach a large house in the suburbs. Abbey gets out and I retrieve my luggage from Chris before walking in to the house meekly after Mrs. Bartlet. Oh wait...its Dr. Bartlet, I forgot.

"Jed! There's someone here to see you!" Abbey yells up the stairs.

My breath catches in my throat as I hear the footsteps along the second floor come slowly towards the top of the stairs. I see the cane come first followed by Josiah Bartlet. He's in a pair of jeans and a Notre Dame sweatshirt, not the same one he was wearing the day I meet him, but I'm sure he owns at least five dozen.

"Joanie. How good to see you," he smiles cheerfully. "I love your shirt."