Title: By any other name
Author: Loz
E-Mail: loz06@yahoo.com
Rating: The gap between PG13 and R seems very large, R to be on the safe side.
Category: CJ/Leo
Series: Pair: By any other name & By any actual name
Spoilers: None/Minimal
Archive (if applicable): ¿
Feedback: The good, the bad and the very ugly it's all appreciated.
Summary: "So would you care if I didn't tell you my name?" they walk down the street from the supermarket … "No...what do I call you then?" a puzzled look crosses her expression … "Thomas." he states simply.

Disclaimers: Over here, over there, they're not mine anywhere.

IMPORTANT NOTES: For this to work I have to ask you to take a couple of leaps and suspend reality…A LOT. Assume Leo never sent Toby to get CJ for the campaign, Toby suggested CJ and went to get her from the West Coast himself, Leo never knew who she was and trusted Tobys judgment. Assume CJ didn't know Leo from a bar of soap regardless of the fact that he was Labor Secretary.

That said this is very AU and may even push the boundaries of its definition. Obviously there is nothing necessarily politically or geographically or otherwise correct about this work.



It took only moments after they'd settled inside CJ's generous Californian house for her to say yes, and in what she considered to be a very generous offer, Toby had told her she has two weeks to move cross country and get settled.

CJ planned to make use of every minute.

The Californian house went up for rent, in case she had to return to California sooner than they all hoped, she tied up some loose ends and moved herself to the New England region.

A rental contract was signed on reasonably priced accommodation which she doubted she would spend much time at anyway.

There were seven days left to get to know Manchester and climatise. Having lived on the West Coast her whole life, CJ wondered if she would ever get used to it.



While her things were unpacked as much as she felt necessary for someone who was about to spend a lot of time on the road, CJ went hunting and gathering for the evening meal.

Mother Cregg went to the fridge, but it was bare.

And, in the last week having sampled each item on the McDonalds menu and so many more, CJ set forth for the all night supermarket...it was three thirty am.



A lone store clerk mumbled what must have intended to be a greeting and looked as though they were about to fall asleep.

A feat that seemed physically impossible as CJ walked up and down the fluorescent lit aisles.

Boxes lay strewn, waiting for invisible staff members to come and re-stock for when normal people come shopping the next day.

CJ picked her way through the imminent maze, reaching for her favourite blend of coffee.

As she turned, placing the coffee in her basket, heading for the milk, CJ found herself face to face with a sandy haired man carrying a basket full of 'single adult' items like hers.

She smiled apologetically, stepping left to walk around him...he had the same idea, CJ stepped back right at the same time he did and then left in time with him again.

They both smile as they dance in the middle of the coffee aisle.

"I'm sorry." he gestures for her to continue on her way up the aisle, CJ is immediately taken by his voice, craggy, rough sort of, but in a nice way.

"Don't be...you're a better dancer than my last date." she smiles at the stranger before heading towards the back wall to the milk.

Half way there she turns back to look at him...



A midnight craving for pretzels sends CJ off to the same supermarket the next night.

A different clerk stands at the register but tonight doesn't register her presence.

She wanders up and down the aisles again, not familiar with the layout of the store, stepping over boxes similar to the previous night.

At the beginning of the coffee aisle CJ stops....he's there.

Red basket in hands like last night he's dressed in jeans a shirt, baseball jacket and cap. Reaching for a jar of coffee he seems to read the description and then put it back, deciding it doesn't appeal to him.

"I recommend the Kenyan." CJ looks around quickly, not believing it came from her, but like last night they are the only two customers in the store.

"You know something about coffee?" his head tilts to the side.

"I know what I like." CJ's basket shifts from one hand to another.

"Kenyan it is then." he pulls down a jar and places it in his basket. "Thanks." he adds before heading down the aisle as she did last night.

"You don't...know where the pretzels are by any chance do you?" it comes out sheepishly, but he turns back to her non the less.

"Second last row, towards the back."

"Thanks." she adds as if it were an after thought, watching as he heads in the opposite direction.



CJ spends Wednesday in Concord doing the tourist thing, before heading home she stops in to get some bread for breakfast the next morning.

The bread is at the front but she walks along the length of the shop, hoping to bump into the handsome stranger. By the frozen food aisle which is the last she realises it's not going to happen.

The clerk wishes her a good night and CJ, feeling a tad let down, as if this man was obligated to meet her each night in a strange rendezvous in aisle five, corrects the young girl to good morning.

Digging for her keys, lost in her shoulder bag, CJ marches through the automatic doors without a thought and walks straight into someone.

"We've got to stop meeting like this." the familiar voice says once they've recovered from ricocheting off each other.

"How was the coffee?" she inquires straightening herself.

"As good as the recommendation." he doesn't miss a beat.

They stand for a moment in the doorway, gazing across at each other.

"Well I gotta..."

"Of course you do." CJ adds hastily, hoping the profound effect he has on her doesn't show.

"Have a nice day." he adds as the doors slide shut after them.

This time he turns back to look at her again.



Thursday night CJ dines out at one of the local restaurants... alone.

It's the first and last time she will do it.

She calls Toby, but all she gets is a recorded message, with her booking in a half hour, she doesn't bother leaving a message.

From the condescending tone of the maître d' when he asks if she's dining alone, to the fact that all the entrees are to share between two or more, CJ would have been happier with a frozen dinner from aisle ten.



Friday CJ makes good on the TV dinner desire, it's around nine when she enters the store, her seven days are almost up and she's resolved for the next two days to get some sleep while she still has a chance.

She goes straight to the frozen section, wondering how a shopping trip became some cheap romance novel quest to talk to Mr. Talk-Dark-Handsome and right, though her mysterious fellow nightly shopper doesn't quite fit in that category.

In that book they'd fall in love over the Kenyan coffee and consummate their relationship somewhere in the frozen food aisle with a good deal of angst between aisles five and ten.

CJ throws the chicken and rice variety in her basket.

"Not nearly as good as sex." he sighs feeling quite lethargic she heads to the checkout.

The assistant is quite perky, a mood which will not doubt disintegrate as the night wears on. As CJ places the three meals on the table to be scanned, the young girl greets the next customer.

"Good evening." the rough voice sounds tired. "The vegetarian lasagna is very good." he adds when CJ turns to look at him.

"Next time then." CJ promises as she hands over her card with a pleased smile.

"Next time." he repeats, unpacking his basket.

"I'll see you later." CJ acts cool grabbing her bag and walking away.

"Have coffee with me." he calls when she's barely three steps away.

"Now?" she swings around, the bemused assistant watching on.

"I know a place." he says in an I've-got-connections tone. "They have Kenyan." he adds for extra incentive.

"Ok." and the promise of an early night is forgotten, not to mention the frozen meal.



"So would you care if I didn't tell you my name?" they walk down the street from the supermarket.

"No...what do I call you then?" a puzzled look crosses her expression.

"Thomas." he states simply.

"O-k." CJ emphasizes.

"Would you care if I didn't ask your name?"

"I guess not...you can call me Allison though." this is getting weirder by the minute she thinks to herself.

"So you wouldn't care if I didn't want to tell you anything about me?"

"Might as well continue with the trend, no." CJ sighs. "And you don't want to know anything about me right."

"Your a fast learner."

"Just out of curiosity are we going to talk over coffee...or just drink and go?"

"There's plenty to talk about Allison..." he points to the modest cafe ahead and they take up a seat outside.

"Such as...?" she encourages him to elaborate.

"The big three, religion, politics and sex." CJ picks up the menu, hiding her huge grin behind it.



If asked CJ couldn't recall what they'd spoken about tonight, religion and politics were in there somewhere and when they discovered they were both Catholic and Democratic it was obvious there wasn't going to be much deviation from mutual agreement, fireworks on the other hand were ever present in their attraction to one another.

CJ remember laughing and flirting, maybe just a little, it had been a while. What was most prevalent was the fact she enjoyed herself immensely and found total comfort with a complete and utter stranger.



"So we didn't get to sex..." CJ pipes up as the arrive back at the supermarket, with supreme comfort she lets down her personal guard and doesn't consider the implications of her comment before opening her mouth.

"Excuse me." he laughs good naturedly with the words.

"I meant..." her head immediately buries into her hands.

"I know what you meant...maybe next time." and CJ's heart skips a beat or two.

"That'd be nice." she manages and silently curses for not coming up with something more articulate.

"So, am I going to bump into you in there tomorrow night?" he points towards the market.

"Not unless I get a craving." she rustles the bag of warm meals.

"Well I'd better ask you now then if you'll have dinner with me tomorrow night."

"Sure." CJ checks herself not wanting to appear too enthusiastic.

"Eight thirty same place?" CJ nods in the affirmative.

"We've got an audience." CJ notices the bored attendant watching them intently.

"Then we'd better make sure they get what they came for." confusion is dominant till he pulls her closer for a gentle goodnight kiss.

"You're Ok to get home?" he breathes after slowly pulling away.

"I'm good, I'm just.." her hand points to where her mouth has lost the power to explain.

"Tomorrow night." CJ walks home in a daze, the TV dinners she dropped when he kissed her long forgotten in the market carpark.



"Would you like to come up for coffee?" CJ asks when they come to the end of him walking her home. She follows it up with a laugh because they've both had two espressos and will most likely be awake until midmorning. "I have something else if you don't want to wake up with an ulcer in the morning."

"That'd be good."

"I have a bottle of red." she remembers it buried in the back of the fridge.

"Perfect."



"Another?" CJ watches the empty glass on her kitchen counter and as she steps closer towards him the bottle is lifted from her grasp and gentle placed next to the empty glass.

His eyes are all over her, intensive, not letting hers escape his.

Heads meet and lips clash, tongues battle and hands and arms explore in the middle of the kitchen. Skin seeking hands pull up his shirt, lips parting long enough to drag it over his head and intake much needed air.

With newly uncovered territory her lips go exploring.

"There's something I've got to tell you." it doesn't deter, CJ's lips reach sensitive nipples, licking, nipping and sucking dry the power of comprehensible speech.

"I'm out of town a lot." he manages from somewhere, pulling CJ back up him and eliciting moans as gentle hands travel across her breasts.

"So it's just about tonight." she says through labored breathing and low moans as he discovers the sensitive regions of her neck. The situation suits her fine, there's nothing either of them can do about their long term futures.

"Finally we get to sex." he says getting a chuckle from her as she leads him to her bedroom.



The light doesn't go on as they stand stripping each other of clothing less it become a logistical nightmare when they're entangled on the bed.

His hands smooth their way down her back to her ass as she tips him over and onto her bed.

"Are you a screamer Allison?" CJ wants to look for another person in the room and the alias thing is almost killing the mood for her if it weren't for the large hands making their way down her hips.

"That depends..." barely reaches out to him as he kisses his way down the valley of her breasts, hands traveling up her inner thighs. "...on how good you are."

"I know a challenge what I hear one." he mumbles against her milky skin.

"You...are a talker." she diagnoses and then gasps as one hand inches closer to her center.

"We're about to find out."



"I have a confession." his voice fills the room for the first time since he groaned Allison on climax.

"This isn't Jerry Springer." CJ lifts her head from his chest, her fingers continue to comb through the sprinkling of gray chest hair.

"I hate Kenyan coffee." CJ laughs, forgiving him with a brutal kiss.

"You forgive me?"

"Only if you forgive me for hating lasagna." he grabs her in one swift movement, sliding her onto her back thus gaining control, fingers move quickly to the sensitive spots that made her giggle earlier in the night.

He fights her resistance, fingers going into overdrive tickling her till tears of laughter stream down her face.

"I have another confession." he says seriously when the laughter dies.

"I think you should call your Priest." she jokes. "What is it, your real name?" is added as an after thought.

"More important than that." he calculates before dancing his lips with hers again.

"I had a really great time tonight." it's softly and sincerely spoken.

"So did I." CJ finds the same tone.

"Can I stay... till morning?" he asks.

"Please do." CJ sighs before molding herself into him again.



It's his phone which wakes her up pre-dawn, fumbling in the dark she finds the offending piece of technology hidden in his pants pocket. Pressing the receive button she crawls back into bed while praying whomever it is on the other end saying hello doesn't hang up prematurely. A few short shakes awakens him and he presses the phone to his ear.

The short conversation is over when CJ feels him lean over her and press a kiss to her shoulder.

"I have to go." he says apologetically when she rolls over and she has to wonder what sort of job requires someone at five fifteen on a Sunday morning.

Their goodbye kiss is more fluent this time, but promises nothing for the future as agreed.

CJ just listens for the two minutes or so it takes him to leave.



Her own phone wakes her again at eight o'clock, with one last day to sleep in, CJ is irritated by the interruptions.

"WHAT?" she barks down the line.

"Aren't you up yet?" the gruff voice of Toby Ziegler filters back.

"It's Sunday Toby." she returns between clenched teeth.

"That doesn't usually mean you get up around lunch time."

"It's eight o'clock Toby."

"Morning tea then." he sighs.

"Did you want something in particular or is this just a general harassment call?" anger is broiling inside her.

"You've got someone there don't you?" he says it like it's an epiphany and CJ mildly panics.

"Toby." her warning you've stepped over the mark tone comes out.

"CJ, what are you doing, we go on the road on Thursday." Exasperation exhales from him like the stressed mother of young children.

"It was one night Ok... not that it's any of your business." CJ snaps falling back into the pillows.

"I hope you enjoyed it because when we get to D.C. you can forget privacy CJ, the press are going to follow you into the ladies room."

"I can't believe you just asked if I had good sex last night like a waiter would ask if I enjoyed my meal."

"What's your point?" he deadpans.

"I know what living life in a fish bowel is like Toby." she reminds him.

"You just think you do."

"I'm hanging up now Toby." the warning tone is back this time more intensive.

"No wait...I called to ask you to come down to campaign headquarters to meet everyone...Bartlet had a problem last night, didn't sleep, so we've all been here since about five."

"I'll be there in an hour." CJ hangs up without a goodbye and drags herself into the shower.



"Welcome to your new home." Toby introduces her to the large office space that has been split into individual cubicles.

The faces and names of Josh, Sam, Donna, Margaret, Bonnie and Ginger get mixed around when Bartlet gives her a chilly welcome causing CJ to immediately wonder if this was the right decision and if Toby was lying about 'The real thing.'

The only one left to meet is Leo McGarry.

CJ waits outside his office reminiscent of a school kid on detention, while Toby extracts Bartlet from Leo who stalks out of the office nearly bowling over CJ without so much as an apology and it's then she's sure she's going to get out.

Never thinking temperament got worse than Toby, CJ has just been introduced to it.

Only Toby occupies the office when CJ dares enter. He ushers her to sit explaining Mr. McGarry was in the outer office that faces there street and is where his assistant sits.

"Toby...I don't think..." she begins to tell him she doesn't think this is what she wants when Leo McGarry moves into her peripheral vision.

For a moment they stop and stare at each other.

He's wearing the same clothes she stripped off him last night, his sandy hair is now only minimally bed swept and she knows it's the same craggy voice which is presently silent.

"Leo McGarry." he breaks the silence first, outstretching his right hand.

"CJ Cregg."