The Boxer Rebellion
By Nomi

***Day 1***

>ring<

"Sam Seaborn."

"Uh...love?" I hoped Sam was alone in his office. Why I didn't just walk down there and ask him my question was obvious. I was chicken.

"Yeah?"

"Did you leave anything in my office while I was up on the Hill?" I had come across a couple of wrapped packages from Mark Jeffries; last time this happened, Sam had been out of town and he'd had an agenda. I had no doubt he had an agenda this time, but I was hoping he'd clue me in.

"And if I did?"

"Is there some gift-giving occasion today that I don't know about?" It wasn't our anniversary, it wasn't my birthday. I still couldn't figure out what was going on in Sam's brain.

"Have you opened the box yet? Maybe that'll help." Sam wasn't gonna make this easy on me.

I quickly tore off the brightly-colored wrapping and opened the boxes. They contained underwear. Very _nice_ underwear. "Nope, still confused."

"You're smart...you'll figure it out."

***Day 2***

>ring<

"Sam Seaborn."

"Love?"

"Yes, J?" Sam sounded amused.

"Another box appeared while I was in Leo's office."

"Yes, J. The box fairy visited your office."

Sam was still no help. I opened the new box. More underwear...different from yesterday's offering.

"Uh...duckies?"

"Josh, you are the only adult male I know who would describe the pattern on those shorts as 'duckies.'" Now he sounded even more amused.

"So," I said in my most persuasive voice, "will you tell me what occasion _these_ are for?"

"Nope," Sam said.

His refusal made me even more determined to figure out the answer.

***Day 3***

>ring<

"No, Josh. You're gonna have to figure it out for yourself."

"How did you know it was me?" I was completely flummoxed, not only by the appearance of yet another package but by the fact that Sam knew that I was calling.

"Donna buzzed me to tell me you were back." I can't get anything past her.

"Pleeeeeeease?" I tried my best pleading voice; I would've used the puppy-dog eyes, but they didn't work well over the phone.

"No, Josh. You'll get it eventually. I'll give you a hint. There's a connection to next Monday and the calendar." Sam hung up without giving me an opportunity to wheedle more information out of him.

Next Monday? Next Monday was January 28th. I thought for a while, then called Sam again.

>ring<

"Sam Seaborn."

"It's me. All I can think of is that Monday is the anniversary of the Challenger disaster. I have no idea what sort of connection you can make between _that_ and underwear." I didn't want to know, truth to tell.

"Wrong calendar," Sam said then hung up.

Wrong calendar? I thought.

I picked up my phone again.

>ring<

"Toby Ziegler."

"Toby, y'gotta help me. Sam's driving me nuts."

I could hear the - very rare - grin in Toby's voice. "Bubbe, he's your problem now, not mine."

"Toby, _please_! I'm getting desperate here."

"Again, not my problem."

I tried another tack. "Toby, what's Monday?"

"The 28th? Challenger anniversary?" Toby wasn't telling me anything I hadn't already guessed.

"I tried that. Sam's been leaving gifts of underwear in my office, and when I asked him what the occasion was, he mentioned Monday. I guessed Challenger, and Sam said I was thinking in the wrong calendar."

Toby started to laugh.

"_What?!?_" Now I was getting exasperated. "Tell me, Toby."

Through his chortles, Toby said, "Sam asked me if there were any holidays coming up. Apparently, he felt bad that you had celebrated Christmas with the senior staff but that Chanukah went mostly unnoticed."

"It's a _minor_ holiday, Toby."

"I know, Josh. Who _wrote_ that rant of yours?"

"True...so how does that explain the underwear?"

"Monday," Toby said dramatically, "is Tu B'Shvat."

"New Year of trees," I said. "I remember from Hebrew school. We used to go out in the dead of winter and plant tiny little saplings that would then freeze to death in the February blizzards." One of the problems with celebrating in New England holidays meant for the Mediterranean climate.

"What's one of the traditional foods for Tu B'Shvat?" Toby asked me.

I thought a moment. "Uh...almonds?"

"Well, yeah, but...what else?"

I thought a minute, then I started to laugh. "Toby, what did Sam ask, and what did you tell him?"

"Well, as I said, Sam asked me about upcoming holidays. I mentioned Tu B'Shvat and said that it was a minor holiday, but that people often celebrate it with traditional gifts of..."

"Bokkser," I said in unison. "Did you explain that bokkser is Yiddish for 'carob'?"

"He didn't give me a chance," Toby said. "I figured I'd sit back and watch what happened next."

"Well," I asked, "are you satisfied with the results?"

"Are you?" Toby asked.

I thought about all my new underwear - all silk, because Sam knows my preferences - and all the ways I'd be making Sam appreciate my reaction to them.

"Oh, yeah."

"Too much information, Joshua," Toby said. "Be nice, or I'll tell Sam all about the bonfires that are traditional for Lag B'Omer."

The idea of Sam playing with fire - again - was enough of an incentive. "I'll behave. I promise."

Anyway, I had other ways of keeping Sam warm. I headed off to demonstrate some of them.

---END---