C.J. Somebody's made a mistake. He was just on his way to the field office...
RON No.
C.J. tries hard to accept the news, putting her hand on her forehead. The song drains out
their conversation.
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing hallelujahs.
Hallelujah...
C.J. Excuse me.
Danny had known that the President was in New York tonight and had considered pulling out his press credentials and heading down to the theatre in the hopes of seeing his friends from the West Wing. He'd dismissed this thought almost as soon as it had occurred to him. He'd deliberately moved back from the White House in recent months, taking stories and leads which moved him out of Washington. Out of sight, out of mind. He wished. He still saw her, glimpses on the television, her voice on the radio, her name in print. He still thought about kissing her. C.J. grabbing him and kissing him. He shook himself. Sitting here day-dreaming about kissing her wasn't going to help matters. He stood up, picked up his coat, cell and keys and strolled out of his hotel room, slamming the door behind him.