A/N: So this is really quite a belated Christmas fic, although I started writing this around the end of October. I've really gone through and edited and re-edited more times than is probably sane but I've decided I'm happy with it enough to post (finally!). I really wanted to explore what a marriage could be like between CJ and Jed, post-administration. Angst abounds, as there is a secret that CJ's been keeping from her husband, and one that he's been keeping from her.
Anyway, hope you read and humor me by granting me your imagination for a few moments to imagine CJ and Jed married and about to celebrate Christmas.
(Title is taken from Brandi Carlile's devastating song of the same name. You can listen to it here…http:/www youtube com/watch?v=fKDYvEXWXTc)
Disclaimer: The West Wing and its characters are decidedly NOT mine. Neither is Brandi Carlile's song 'Before it Breaks.' This is just a piece written by a most sincere fan.
Part One
"Around here it's the hardest time of year
Waking up, the days are even gone
Though the color of my coat
Lord help me killing off the cold
Where the raindrops sting my eyes
I keep them closed
But I'm feelin' no pain
I'm a little lonely and my quietest friend
Ever the moonlight, have I let you in
Say it ain't so, say I'm happy again
Say it's over, say I'm dreamin
Say I'm better than you left me
Say you're sorry, I can take it
Say you'll wait, say you won't
Say you love me, say you don't
I can make my own mistakes
Let it bend before it breaks"
-Brandi Carlile, "Before it Breaks."
It was hard to say exactly when she sensed it—CJ always strove to tell the difference between unnecessary paranoia and a need to be genuinely worried. One afternoon, it hit her and she couldn't blithely ignore the signs. The first doctor had dismissed it as nothing that rest and healthy living couldn't fix, the second told her they would do follow up tests, and the third confirmed her suspicions.
Jed arrived home, looking as though he'd returned from a good conversation with someone. He certainly smelled of coffee and at least one cigarette, when he kissed her lightly on the cheek in greeting she was taken aback. She didn't give voice to her surprise though; she managed to restrain her impulse to be snippy. So dinner was peaceful and she enjoyed his company as always. They spoke of their respective days: CJ was now doing consulting for local political campaigns and offices while Jed was working on his memoirs in between his trips for the Bartlet Global Initiative Foundation—something they thought of and created as a couple.
"I was thinking we could spend Christmas with Liz and Doug this year," He casually mentioned between the smoked salmon and asparagus dish. She met his gaze, slightly stunned. Ever since they married six years ago, they'd taken to hosting the festivities at their own home. The holidays were imprinted in her mind as memories of lounging around with him, indulging in the kind of intimacy that the normal pace of life usually didn't afford them. They would have Jed's family over on Christmas Day until New Years'—but Christmas was always theirs. CJ shook herself and forced a smile.
"Of course we could," She replied, as she fought the burning desire to retract her consent.
"Good. Annie would love to see you, CJ." He returned her smile and covered her hand with his, causing her heart to swell with love for him. Before she could reveal more than she wanted to, she broke the mood and stood to begin cleaning up the dining table.
CJ went to bed that evening alone. Jed planned to stay up writing in his study, his usual routine until at least one in the morning because of his editor's incessant hounding everytime he approached a deadline. Late nights were always his thing, whether it was artificially created by his time in the White House or not, but they were certainly one she'd been willing to give up as of recently. The fatigue that seemed to turn her bones to lead was becoming more and more difficult to brush aside. She fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
The next day Jed returned to her smelling once again of coffee, cigarettes, and a certain glowing cheerfulness that normally CJ would have found charming but now only struck her with suspicion. She let it fester for as long as she could until she saw him smile to himself and it bothered her that she couldn't read his expression. So she asked, "Where did you go?"
His face retained its innocent expression when he replied.
"The coffeehouse—you know the one called 'Back to the Grind'?"
"By yourself?" Her tone softened considerably.
At his rapidly changing countenance, she braced herself for what she'd known through pure instinct.
"I was there…with Abbey."
"Oh," She breathed, feeling like she'd been punched in the gut.
He seemed unconcerned and shrugged, "She's been reminding me of certain things for the chapter I'm writing right now. There are just… some things that only she can tell me, Claudia. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
"So you two have been meeting since you started penning your memoirs. You know, I probably wouldn't have made a scene if you'd have just told me. God Jed, it's been nearly three months!" CJ broke off abruptly, stumbling over her words.
He frowned and reached out as if to hold her but something compelled her to shy away from his touch. She couldn't quite be that woman, the one who was completely comfortable with the thought of her husband with any other woman much less his ex-wife. She'd done so well in the first few years but now…especially not now. She couldn't do it.
The bedroom door was locked until four in the morning, when he went up to find her curled up in the middle of their bed. He settled in beside her, wrapping his warm arms around her body. She felt smaller somehow, and it made him ache with guilt. He felt her stir and he placed a sweet kiss on the side of her neck.
"I'm sorry, Jed." She whispered sleepily.
He held her more firmly, caressing her stomach and breathing in her scent. She had nothing to be sorry for, in fact he'd have been more worried if she wasn't as upset as she'd been. He was actually surprised she hadn't completely unleashed the storm that was her temper; she hadn't taken him to task as fully as he might have expected. His love for her was unquestionable—it had only grown each day since they began seeing each other. He understood her fear, just not her visceral reaction to his spending time with Abbey. Further thoughts disappeared as he fell asleep at last.
Weeks passed quickly, and after Thanksgiving, CJ began to ponder what Christmas would be like this year. She'd begun her shopping early, for Zoey, Ellie and Liz she went to the likes of Tory Burch, Missoni and Chloé. The men, Doug, Vic and Charlie received a tie, a wallet and a wristwatch, respectively. For Annie she'd bought a couple of books and a dress, for Gus she bought the newest action figure of his favorite superhero who at the moment was Batman, and for baby Zachary she got a particularly unique Fisher-Price gizmo that Jed claimed would guarantee Ellie's child to be an early reader. She hadn't yet found a gift for Jed but there was still plenty of time to look. At least, there would have been if she didn't have canc—
No, she shouldn't think like that. Not yet anyway, not when everyone around her was enjoying the beginning of the holidays.
The gifts were all wrapped and sat beneath the tree in their sitting room, ready to be transferred and then ripped open by enthusiastic hands on Christmas Day. She stood there in the foyer, clad in an oversized sweater and leggings, feeling overwhelmed. There was just not enough time…
She meandered in the direction of the study and found Jed revising on his computer. He typed endearingly slowly as a result of having a team of highly efficient secretaries throughout his entire career. He also donned his glasses and paired with the occasional furrowed brow, he looked downright professorial in his collared shirt and pullover sweater.
She sank into the armchair across from the large mahogany desk, rested her legs over the right armrest. CJ closed her eyes for a long moment. The fire blazed merrily in the hearth, at odds with the nature of her thoughts. She inhaled. The fire's warmth seeped through her cable-knit sweater. She let the breath go.
When CJ opened her eyes she found him staring at her with that familiar affection that both soothed and jarred her. She couldn't help but love him for it, though it broke her just a little.
"Are you feeling alright Claudia Jean?" He asked, a tad teasingly with her full name.
"Just tired. What're you doing?"
As he explained he was trying to outline the series of events that led to the assassination of Abdul ibn Shareef, she listened pensively. One of the humbling aspects of their relationship was the tremendous gain of insight for both of them. The tumultuous events, as well as the outright successes of the Bartlet administration were given new meaning as each shared with the other their experiences from different perspectives. Even years later, they never ran out of things to discuss. There were simply too many gaps in understanding—what Jed dealt with as President was obviously at times far different than what CJ faced as his Press Secretary then later his Chief of Staff.
Jed had already told her that the assassination took place while they were in New York City for the production of "The Wars of the Roses." She remembered that at the time, she'd been under Secret Service protection because of a death threat. She thought of Simon, and then she thought of later when Danny relentlessly went after for more information about Shareef's death. Though she believed it would have been better if he, Leo and the National Security Team had informed her long before the press got wind of it, she understood the reason for their silence better now.
Jed set the computer on standby and walked toward her, to stand in front of her and plant a kiss on her lips. When they broke apart to breathe, she was smiling softly.
"You know you're never gonna finish that thing if you keep this up."
His wonderful eyes sparkled in amusement.
"I agree, so I demand there be no more sauntering around me in sexy sweaters, Claudia Jean."
The giggle that escaped from her lips reassured him, while the mood slipped from playfulness to a more urgent sort of passion. Later that afternoon they lay entwined, both content to bask in the warmth they created as the world outside waited. She loved nothing more than to be close to him, nothing separating them but their own bare skin. It was in these moments that she was glad they took the risk and she could believe that she was the only one he loved.
"The streets of heaven are too crowded with angels tonight," murmured CJ sleepily as she caressed his chest. He grasped her hand and raised an eyebrow.
"That was when I first realized I was hopelessly in love with you." She admitted with a small smile.
He lifted her fingers to his lips to kiss them gently.
"You happened to wear white at that dinner."
"I promise I didn't plan that with Sam or anything," She joked softly and then met his gaze, "I couldn't take my eyes off you, Jed."
There were no more words spoken that night.
It was snowing already in Manchester, blanketing the streets and inconveniencing the few drivers out that evening. There was nothing too unusual about her day in fact she'd gone about her routine without any problems. Step one; wake up early and jog three miles on treadmill, step two; eat breakfast, shower and dress, step three; return Mayor's phone calls about local high school fundraiser, step four; pay bills…The list went on until she'd checked them all off.
After a brief trip to City Hall for a meeting with some city council members at noon, she was driven by two agents to the grocery store. Her purchases were simple: chicken breast fillets and lemon. She'd already prepared the marinade and there was homemade soup in the fridge that just needed reheating. It was funny how domestic she'd become. A few years ago she'd joke about her specialty being Chinese take-out and pizza.
"Claudia Jean?" rang out a voice from the hallway.
She paused, hands dripping with pesto marinade.
"I'm in the kitchen!" She responded while returning to her task.
The chicken pieces were laid out neatly on a foil wrapped baking pan when Jed found her, clad in one of those ubiquitous beige cashmere sweaters along with a garish apron tied around her waist. He was dressed in a long overcoat, gloves and a scarf. He was leaving for Brussels around ten that evening, he'd be gone for four days. She resumed basting the chicken breasts, grinning in spite of herself when she felt his arms wrap around her waist and his torso press against her back.
"I have to leave soon." He murmured.
"It's only four, I thought your flight takes off at ten."
There was a slight pause that drew her attention.
"It does, but you know with commercial flights it takes a heck of a lot longer to get through security these days. I just want to give myself a safe amount of time."
"You, and your Secret Service team, yes. As if anyone would stop you when you've got four armed guards accompanying you through security," She rolled her eyes jokingly, "Don't you miss Airforce One?"
"I miss the little bags of peanuts they always had."
She laughed quietly as he kissed her neck.
"I wish you could come with me. In fact, why aren't you coming with me?"
"Because the Mayor needs me to do his PR with the high school thing this weekend."
"It wounds me that you choose to help him and not me," The mock pout was nearly audible in Jed's voice.
"Honey, I've been helpin' you for years. I'm sure you'll survive Brussels, they've got chocolate and waffles up there, you know."
"God knows those are the only reasons I'll have to get up in the mornings." He retorted gently.
He waited until she rinsed her hands clean and then turned around in his embrace. She found his lips and kissed him once, her mouth opening in a gasp of surprise when he held her tighter and deepened the kiss.
"I'll see you in four days." He said, their foreheads pressed together.
"I'm looking forward to it."
He'd left the house soon after but still something struck her as odd. There was no concrete reason for him to leave excessively early, even for an international flight. CJ went up to the study and found that all of his notes for his memoirs weren't cluttering up the desk surface, which meant that he took the pages with him. Now she knew the reason for the earlier than necessary departure.
So CJ knew she was having a temporary moment of insanity but was powerless to stop it—she was following her husband to the coffee shop. She needed to see it; she could no less ignore it anymore than she could slice off a limb.
The window was frosty but still afforded her a generous view. She'd wrapped herself up in two jackets, a coat and a thick scarf, with a hat atop her head. She spotted them immediately, at a corner booth, both smiling and looking very good together. His eyes glowed as he related something to Abbey as she merely grinned into her coffee cup and something curled around CJ's heart, squeezing tightly and refusing to release it.
On her brisk walk home, she felt the tears freeze upon her cheeks. The front door opened easily beneath her shaking hand and CJ staggered to the sitting room past the perfect tree and pristinely wrapped gifts beneath. She collapsed in front of the sofa alone, imagining the satisfaction Abigail Bartlet probably felt. Then after that followed the shame in thinking that a strong, intelligent and fundamentally good woman could be so petty as to find malicious joy in the gradual deterioration of someone else's marriage. CJ felt like she was getting what she deserved at last.
She'd become slightly withdrawn since he'd returned from Belgium and her refusal to come clean had Jed puzzled. He grew more worried as she seemed to lose her appetite too easily and slept in each morning far later than she usually did. He tried to put a little more roast beef, chicken, whatever they were eating, on her plate and he took her to the movies, the theatre, shopping—anything to cheer her up. He refused to get impatient, knowing instinctively that it was the worst thing he could do. Experience had taught him that, surely.
"Claudia Jean," He whispered, stroking her cheek as they sat in front of the fireplace one evening. She exhaled slowly, relaxing into his arms and burying her face in his shoulder. It tore at him that he couldn't suss out the cause of her melancholy. He thought she wouldn't mind his meetings with Abbey, although he admitted that it would have been wiser to tell CJ about it first. The insensitivity was agonizingly obvious in retrospect.
When she kissed his neck, he felt a stirring that only she was capable of eliciting. He took her in his arms and claimed her lips hungrily, hoping that if she wouldn't tell him what was bothering her, she would at least find release through him. Their clothes ended up on the floor, and when he brought her over the edge, he reveled in her ardent cries. Her long legs kept him anchored to her while he longed for nothing more than to soothe the hurt he'd unintentionally inflicted.
"I love you, more than you could know," Jed murmured, his lips pressed tenderly into her skin. Her eyes glowed in the firelight, the sadness gone for the moment and for that he was glad.
"I love you too, Josiah."