Title: Another Nice Dress

Characters: CJ Cregg, Danny Concannon

Rating: Harmless

Notes: Post-series.

Disclaimer: All credit goes to Sorkin, Wells, & NBC/Warner Bros.


Danny's used to being the calm one in their relationship. The rational one who's always there to talk CJ down from the most recent diving board of self-doubt and irrational commitment problems. He likes it that way. Likes being able to hug her at the end of a fight or a non-fight, to whisper that it'll all be alright and actually be believed.

Thing is, though, his past reputation's about to get shot to heck because he's pretty sure he's in the middle of a whopper of a panic attack and, so far as he knows, relationship rocks aren't supposed to have those.

But. CJ's trying on dresses for this Hollis cocktail party they've been invited to, and he's tagging along, cause, you know, why not. They haven't been here long, just long enough to veto a printed thing with a weird neck and a blue one that CJ said reminded her of shopping for prom. He's just about settled in, ready to hunker down, get good and entrenched, when she comes out in this grey dress, slaps a hand on her hip, and waits for his verdict.

That's about when the panic attack starts.

The dress is perfect. It's short, but it's not too short, and it's tight and perfect in all the places it ought to be, plus it's got this fancy, glittery beading that he really, really wants to spend time tracing cause he'd love to have an extra excuse to touch the parts of CJ it falls over and –wow. Is it, basically. Wow.

Added into the 'wow' is the general package that is CJ –the legs, the hair, the eyes –god, her eyes –and her breasts –which warrant another 'god', but he's hesitant to give it, cause a department store fitting room isn't the best place to be gawking in, even if the dress' deep-v down front just about mandates it from him.

Boy, does he not deserve her. Not in the tiniest, slightest bit. He's a flatworm compared to her –a parasitic invertebrate that won the cosmic lotto by getting stuck to the sole of a goddess' shoe. A shaky breath, and he's standing up now, looking for the nearest exit so he can hurry home to pack his bags, freeing her up to find the kind of guy that's actually worthy of being in the same hemisphere as her, let alone at the same dinner party.

CJ grabs him by the wrist before he's got a chance to turn tail, and even though he does his best not to look at her, she forces his chin up so she can fix him with her best ex-Press Secretary glare. Then her eyes are glowing, then she's laughing, then she's hugging him harder than she ever has before.

"Now you know how I feel sometimes, Mr. Reasonable."

He learns how to breathe again while he's squeezing her back with his face buried in the crook of her neck and one hand toying with the bugle beads around her waist.

"This is a nice dress."