Title: Appreciation
Author: Scooter
Email:
Rating: PG-13.
Category: C.J./Ron
Disclaimer: Not mine, or Ron would be a regular. Please don't sue.
Summary: "Flamingo's ogling the chief," comes over my earpiece, and it takes years of training to not turn bright red.
Spoilers: None, really.
Archive: Please let me know where, and keep my name attached.
Note: Response to a challenge on the CJ/Ron list challenge – 500 words, first person. I got 500 words exactly.
Feedback: would be lovely.
She's staring at me again.
I hate it when she does this.
C.J. and I have discussed the parameters of our relationship in some depth, and one of the things I made clear was that I could not pay any attention to her when I was on active duty. When I'm on the detail, protecting the President is my only priority, and C.J. becomes just another person in the room, another set of movements to monitor.
Currently, her movements are sitting at a table in the middle of a state dinner and staring at me with an expression that would make me blush if I was in any position to enjoy it, or even notice it for more than a half second.
Damn.
The first time this happened, a few months ago at the Kennedy Center, I pulled C.J. aside after the concert and asked her what the hell she was doing. "Mentally undressing you, Ron," had been her frank response. When I'd started in again on why I couldn't flirt with her while on duty, she'd held up her hand. "I'm not expecting you to," she'd grinned, "but just because you have to pretend I'm not here, that doesn't mean I have to ignore that you're here. I happen to enjoy looking at you," here, her eyes had traveled over me, "especially in that tux, and I see no reason why my staring at you should inhibit your ability to protect the President."
I couldn't find a good argument to that. As I scan the room tonight, I notice that Toby is drinking his third glass of scotch, Eagle is dancing with the Premiere's wife, and Bookbag is standing with a member of the Premiere's delegation, whose file I make a mental note to fully review tomorrow. That C.J. is eyeing me is really just another detail I can file away for later.
Mostly.
"Flamingo's ogling the chief," comes over my earpiece, and it takes years of training to not turn bright red.
"Stay focused, Sandstrom," I shoot back in the most commanding, no-nonsense tone I can muster. I'm sure my agents find some amusement in this situation, but I can't let it distract them, or I really will need to ask C.J. to stop.
And I don't want to do that. As much as I hate not being able to enjoy C.J.'s attention, as frustrating as it is to have to wait until later to consider the way she looks at me, the fact that she looks at all is too incredible to critique the circumstances.
On my next scan of the room, I observe that Josh is once again embarrassing himself with a woman, Toby is yelling at Will, and C.J. is still watching me.
Maybe I don't mind.
I've never been the guy who gets the girl. If C.J. Cregg wants to stare at me while I'm on duty, I'm going to let her, as long as I can stare at her when I'm off duty.