Come Sit On My Couch

by DianeB

A "scene-we-didn't-see" between CJ and Abbey during the S4 finale "Twenty Five." Not so much femslash as classic hurt/comfort, with an itsy-bitsy little femslash twist. Told from both women's pov.

Title: Come Sit On My Couch
Author: DianeB
Rating: R (for femslash lite)
Pairing: CJ/Abbey

Summary: A short "scene-we-didn't-see." Classic hurt/comfort, written from both points of view.

Spoilers: One scene from "Twenty Five," aired 5-14-03.

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at WW fanfic, as I am a self-proclaimed, blissfully obsessed Trekker, so please be gentle with me. Thanks to Brenda, my Mighty Editor Goddess, for her willingness to read my breakout work with a fair eye, even though it's not Trek. Thanks also to Amanda, for her equally fair eye not only to the details of WW, but also to proper use of that pesky word "lie." Written May, 2003.

Disclaimer: I've been told this story lacks "protocol." While I appreciate the information, I can't imagine why it matters, considering, you know, it's a work of fan fiction based on a fictional White House. Nevertheless, you have been cautioned. Still, let's not call it protocol-free, but rather protocol-lite.

oOo oOo oOo

CJ's point of view:

"You can't go in the press room," Amy Gardner said to the First Lady, after gently explaining why.

Abbey turned to Amy, sighing heavily, her voice breaking. "I know. I just seen other mothers do it." She cast her eyes to CJ, standing beside her. "I screwed up."

CJ did not bother to comment, but simply placed her hand lightly at Abbey's back and leaned into her. "Why don't we come sit on my couch for a minute?" They turned and walked slowly toward CJ's office.

"I'm gonna call the doctor," Amy said from behind them.

Abbey spoke bitterly as she and CJ continued their slow progression. "Tell them I want whatever Zoey got."

"Come sit on my couch," CJ urged again softly, more as a statement of comfort than any sort of invitation. In the background, CJ could hear Amy on the phone.

oOo oOo oOo

The doctor closed his bag and motioned for CJ to join him in the doorway to her office. "I've given her a mild sedative, and it would probably be best if she stayed out of sight for a while."

CJ didn't hesitate. "She can stay here. I'll stay with her a while." She ventured a question, knowing she wasn't permitted much of an answer, but needing very much to ask. "How's the President?"

The doctor shared as much as he could. "I'm monitoring his blood pressure. Well, as much as he will allow. This is a hellish situation."

"Yes, sir, it is. I'll stay here a while."

"Fine. I'll be back to check on her as soon as I can."

"Thank you, doctor." Closing the office door, CJ turned to look at Abigail Bartlet. Her eyes were closed and she was pale, alarmingly so. Her newly-shorn, layered hair gave her a waif-like appearance that was incompatible with CJ's personal impression of the First Lady.

Then again, CJ realized, the woman's child had been taken and no matter what that might mean to national security, it most certainly meant Abbey Bartlet was allowed to react as any mother would.

But seeing her like this broke CJ's heart. She knew there was nothing she could do to ensure Zoey's safe return, but she had told the doctor she would stay with the First Lady, and that much she intended to do. She approached the couch. Abbey's eyes opened and she looked up at CJ with a tired smile, clearly in a more relaxed state than she had been only a few minutes earlier.

"Don't look so frightened, CJ, I promise I won't do anything stupid. As a matter of fact," she waved her hand absently before letting it fall to her lap, "I believe I'm in no shape to do much of anything right now." She chuckled in obvious appreciation of the sedative in her system and then patted the couch. "Sit down, you look like the Statue of Liberty, towering over me like that."

CJ sat quickly, immediately apologizing. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, I didn't mean to make you feel—"

"Oh, honey," Abbey cut her off with another weary chuckle, "it was a joke! I'd kill for a few of your inches. Slide closer to me, would you? I want to lean on you, and you have to let me because I'm the First Lady and I've been drugged and they won't let me see my husband anymore and my daughter is gone."

CJ knew this request was a fair breach of protocol, but she could no more refuse the First Lady than she could breathe in space. She slid next to Abbey, who did indeed lay her head on CJ's chest. Since Abbey was shorter than CJ, she fit well, and after CJ readjusted her position by raising her arm over the back of the couch to arrange it across Abbey's shoulder, Abbey fit even better.

"Thank you, CJ," Abbey said with a contented exhale, draping her arm across CJ's lap. "This is nice. I don't have to think for a while now, do I?"

"No, Ma'am." CJ chastely kissed the top of the dark head and tightened her hold a little. "You can sleep for a while now."

Time passed to the point where CJ thought Abbey had actually fallen asleep, when Abbey lifted her head. Her voice was slurred with sedation.

"Claudia Jean, why don't you call me Abbey when I'm lying in your arms, all right?"

CJ spoke without thinking. "All right, Mrs. Bart—" and smiled, catching herself and making the correction. "All right, Abbey."

Abbey returned the smile. "Good girl." But she did not put her head down. Instead, she lifted it higher, until her lips touched CJ's with the faintest pressure.

In the space of one second, no less than fifty valid reasons raced through CJ's head as to why she should immediately put a stop to the First Lady's most inappropriate of actions before it went any further.

But not a single reason stayed with CJ long enough for her to act. Instead, she acted on an instinct that probably didn't have a number.

She returned the pressure and deepened the kiss.

And if that wasn't enough, she raised her hand to Abbey's face, caressing her cheek and noticing how smooth and warm to her touch it was.

A moment later, Reason Number One roared to the forefront and CJ abruptly pulled back. She quickly disengaged herself from Abbey and unconsciously wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, staring down at the carpet.

"Mrs. Bartlet, Abbey, Mrs. Bartlet, I'm so sorry. I'm not sure what I was thinking. I was totally out of line. I didn't mean to take advantage of-of…" She stuttered miserably to a halt and lifted her eyes to the First Lady, who was, surprisingly, not looking very "taken advantage of."

"Mrs. Bartlet? Ma'am?"

Abbey smiled, and it was a smile CJ well recognized as one belonging to a woman who knew her own mind. Abbey rested her hand on CJ's wrist.

"CJ, if anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. As you can tell, I'm not quite myself – and before you allow that look to become permanent, let me add I did not find your kiss to be the least bit unpleasant. I'm just saying that whether or not I'm 'all here' right now is rather beside the point, okay?"

This short declaration used up a good portion of the consciousness left to Abbey, and she sagged against the back of the couch, her eyes dropping closed. "CJ, I'm terribly sorry, but I'm about to pass out. Be a darling and help me get comfortable. We can talk more about this later, after they get my baby back, all right?"

CJ shifted off the couch and helped settle the First Lady down onto it. She placed a pillow beneath Abbey's head and brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. Abbey reached up and took CJ's hand.

"You're such an angel, Claudia Jean. Does my husband know that?" With that, Abbey's hand slipped from CJ's and she was gone.

"Yes...Abbey," CJ said quietly, smiling crookedly at the sleeping woman, "I think your husband knows that."

oOo oOo oOo

Abbey's point of view:

Abbey heard Amy Gardner telling her she couldn't go in the press room and why, but her voice came from an odd distance, like she was standing at the far end of a very narrow tunnel. Abbey turned to her, unable to keep her voice from breaking, and not caring that she couldn't. "I know. I just seen other mothers do it." She could barely hear her own voice. Shock. She knew she was in shock, and she was going to need some help. Soon. She cast her eyes to CJ, who was standing beside her. She could admit her mistake to CJ, but it was hard to get the words out. "I screwed up."

All CJ did in response was place her hand lightly at her back and lean in. She extended an invitation that sounded to Abbey like the best thing she had heard in weeks. "Why don't we come sit on my couch for a minute?"

How long ago had it been that she had been joking with Jed and their friends about empty-nest problems and sighing in dead languages? That was months ago. Had to have been. It certainly wasn't less than a half-hour ago. Abbey couldn't reply; she simply let CJ guide her slowly toward her office.

Again from a distance, she heard Amy. "I'm gonna call the doctor."

And then she found her voice, for one bitter comment, as she and CJ continued their slow progression. She knew it was alarmingly unprofessional, but she no longer cared. "Tell them I want whatever Zoey got."

"Come sit on my couch," CJ urged again softly, more as a statement of comfort than any sort of invitation. Abbey blindly went with her.

oOo oOo oOo

Sitting on the couch in the quiet of CJ's office, she watched the doctor inject what he said was a "mild sedative" into her arm. She wondered just which particular drug he had chosen, and briefly considered asking him, but then decided it didn't matter. She let her eyes close, imagining she could feel the drug coursing through her bloodstream, worrying a little that maybe mild would not be enough.

She listened as the doctor spoke to CJ by the door and heard CJ say firmly, "She can stay here. I'll stay with her a while. How's the President?"

Abbey wondered as well how the President was, since they let her see him only once since they'd gotten the bad news (and that was in her capacity as his wife, not as his doctor), so she regretted not being able to hear the doctor's answer to CJ. But being a doctor herself, she knew that had been done on purpose. If the patient was anywhere within hearing range of information that could even remotely upset them further, doctors spoke so low there was no way anyone but the person they were speaking to could hear them, and even then that person had to listen very carefully. It was a trick they taught in medical school.

She must have drifted off for a while, because the next thing she heard was the sound of the office door closing. Then it was quiet, but she knew she wasn't alone. She opened her eyes to see CJ standing above her looking scared to death. She mustered a smile.

"Don't look so frightened, CJ, I promise I won't do anything stupid. As a matter of fact," she waved her hand in the air and laughed, because something was certainly funny, but she couldn't tell what, "I believe I'm in no shape to do much of anything right now." She patted the couch cushion beside her to bring CJ down to her level. My God, the woman had magnificent height, but right now it was making Abbey's head spin. "Sit down, you look like the Statue of Liberty, towering over me like that."

CJ dropped like a stone to the couch, immediately apologizing. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, I didn't mean to make you feel—"

"Oh, honey," Abbey cut her off with a tired chuckle, "it was a joke! I'd kill for a few of your inches." Then she made a request she knew was outside the realm of protocol, but she no longer cared about that, either. "Slide closer to me, would you? I want to lean on you, and you have to let me because I'm the First Lady and I've been drugged and they won't let me see my husband anymore and my daughter is gone."

Abbey was profoundly relieved when CJ slid without hesitation next to her on the couch and allowed Abbey to rest her head on CJ's chest. It must have been uncomfortable for CJ, however, because after a moment, she readjusted herself, pulling her arm from beneath Abbey and arranging it across the back of the couch and over her shoulder.

Abbey sank deeper against CJ and then laid her arm across CJ's lap. This was not the way Abbey imagined she'd be spending her evening, but, oh, my, it felt so good to be comforted in this manner. She sighed deeply, feeling the tension ease along her spine and shoulders. It did not leave her entirely, but thanks to the sedative and to CJ's reassuring arms, she could feel it backing off its terrible grip. "Thank you, CJ. This is nice. I don't have to think for a while now, do I?"

"No, Ma'am." She felt CJ lightly kiss the top of her head and tighten her hold, just as a mother would do for a sick child. "You can sleep for a while now."

There was something vaguely not right about what CJ had just said, but Abbey couldn't figure out what it was. Her sluggish brain was no help, but eventually the error came to her. She raised her head and managed to get her tongue around the words.

"Claudia Jean, why don't you call me Abbey when I'm lying in your arms, all right?"

CJ spoke too quickly, a response as automatic as her earlier apology had been. "All right, Mrs. Bart—" and Abbey saw CJ's awkward smile, as she caught herself and made the correction. "All right, Abbey."

Abbey returned the smile. "Good girl." And then instead of putting her head back down, it seemed the easiest, most natural thing in the world for her to raise her head a little higher and place her lips with faint pressure against CJ's.

What happened next surprised Abbey, but only because it was so unexpected.

CJ returned the pressure and deepened the kiss. And not only that, but she raised her hand and caressed Abbey's cheek for what seemed like many, many minutes. CJ's kiss was exquisite and unhurried, and her touch feather-light, very different from the more urgently passionate affections Abbey received from Jed.

And then CJ abruptly pulled back and out of her arms, and Abbey knew exactly why. CJ was all apologetic again, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, staring down at her feet.

But even in her drug-induced state, Abbey decided she was having none of it. She let CJ stumble along for a minute, confident that once the woman looked up from her Via Spiga's, she would stop and question things.

And she was not wrong.

"Mrs. Bartlet, Abbey, Mrs. Bartlet, I'm so sorry. I'm not sure what I was thinking. I was totally out of line. I didn't mean to take advantage of-of…" And here CJ at last looked up. "Mrs. Bartlet? Ma'am?"

Abbey smiled and rested her hand on CJ's wrist. "CJ, if anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. As you can tell, I'm not quite myself – and before you allow that look to become permanent, let me add I did not find your kiss to be the least bit unpleasant. I'm just saying that whether or not I'm 'all here' right now is rather beside the point, okay?"

Unfortunately, the sedative was finally catching up with Abigail Bartlet, and this little speech took most of the remaining wind out of her. Her eyes closed of their own accord as she dropped back against the couch, and she could not get them to open again. She knew she needed to say something more to CJ about their exchange of fluids, but she didn't think she could find the strength. Her body felt heavy, weighted, and she knew when she lost consciousness this time, she would not waken for many hours. She struggled against the rising darkness to string the words together before CJ had apoplexy over what had just occurred. "CJ, I'm terribly sorry, but I'm about to pass out. Be a darling and help me get comfortable. We can talk more about this later, after they get my baby back, all right?"

She felt CJ shift off the couch and help settle her down onto it. A pillow was placed gently beneath her head and she felt CJ brush hair from her face. With her last ounce of awareness, she reached up and took CJ's hand.

"You're such an angel, Claudia Jean. Does my husband know that?"

And then the darkness took her. She did not feel her hand slip from CJ's, nor did she know that CJ answered her.

End