As President, Jed Bartlet considered himself ready for most things. Sure, a lot of the time they were bad things, especially with the whole Qumar thing, and having been shot before, and the MS thing, but really, he felt that despite him being a bit older, he tended to take things in stride.
Which was why he was initially surprised that he found himself so disoriented when he woke up naked on the floor, covered in some sort of slime that vaguely reminded him of when Zoe was born (which he'd had to leave the room for; he was never that good around blood, that was Abby's deal).
Gathering himself to his feet (which was a tad difficult, as he was, well slimy), he looked around, seeing several others naked like himself. At least he wasn't the only one. A hand instinctively went to straighten his hair a bit, before he looked around, following the lights at a leisurely pace.
"Either I took too many meds for my back again, or Ron Butterfield is going to be very angry with me."
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Which was why he was initially surprised that he found himself so disoriented when he woke up naked on the floor, covered in some sort of slime that vaguely reminded him of when Zoe was born (which he'd had to leave the room for; he was never that good around blood, that was Abby's deal).
Gathering himself to his feet (which was a tad difficult, as he was, well slimy), he looked around, seeing several others naked like himself. At least he wasn't the only one. A hand instinctively went to straighten his hair a bit, before he looked around, following the lights at a leisurely pace.
"Either I took too many meds for my back again, or Ron Butterfield is going to be very angry with me."