Title: "State Secrets"
Author: michael j.
Rating: R
Pairing: C.J./Danny
Synopsis: C.J. reveals something to Danny that she shouldn't
Disclaimer: "The West Wing" and its characters are property of NBC,
Warner Brothers Television and producer Aaron Sorkin. Nice folks all.

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(Friday, 10:30 a.m., White House briefing room)


"... That's it for the morning briefing. I'll have more on the fuel
policy statement at our 2 o'clock rendezvous. You bring the wine,
I'll bring the cheese." C.J. liked interjecting these little quips
into what could be a very boring session.

The White House Press Secretary left the briefing room and headed
down the corridor to Leo McGarry's office. She was a little behind
schedule, so she was thumbing through her files as she walked. With
her head down, she didn't see the steward carrying a tray of coffee
and danish to one of the conference rooms.

With a crash, C.J. was on the floor, with coffee and danish all over
her. Fortunately, she wasn't hurt, and the coffee didn't burn her,
but she was a mess. She couldn't conduct her business looking like
this.

C.J. reversed course and headed back to her own office. She knew
accidents sometimes happen, so she kept some extra clothes there just
in case.

As she walked by Carol's desk, she told the secretary, "Don't even
ask. Just call Leo and tell him I'm going to be a few minutes late."
With that, she went inside and slammed the door.

C.J. looked over her ensemble. There were coffee and fruit stains all
over her jacket and skirt, and it looked like the coffee had soaked
through her blouse. She peeled off her jacket and tossed it into a
corner. Then she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to her ankles,
and tossed it aside. Finally she unbuttoned her blouse and discarded
it as well.

It was then that C.J. noticed that the coffee had soaked through all
the way to her slip. It probably wouldn't show under her new clothes,
but it reeked of coffee. She grabbed the hem of her slip and pulled
it over her head ... revealing another shock. Even her bra was soaked.

C.J. realized she didn't have much choice. She reached behind her and
unclasped the bra, flinging it aside with the rest of the laundry.

This could be a problem, C.J. thought. Although she had spare clothes
in her office closet, she never thought to bring spare underwear. And
it generally isn't a good idea for the Press Secretary to stand
before reporters with her nipples poking through her blouse.

But C.J. figured maybe if she kept her jacket buttoned all the way,
maybe she could pull it off.

Before getting her other clothes out of the closet, C.J. walked into
the lavatory to clean up. She was washing the coffee and bits of
danish from her breasts when the phone buzzed. She walked over to the
desk and pushed the speaker button.

"C.J.," Carol said, "Mr. McGarry said not to worry about joining him
right now. He just has a few questions for you. Do you want me to put
him through?"

"OK, put him through," C.J. said, as she dried herself with a
towel. "Yes, Leo?"

C.J. and Leo got into a relatively intense discussion, which lasted
several minutes. C.J. became so engrossed in it that she totally
forgot what she was (wasn't?) wearing.

She seemed disgusted when she hung up the phone. "That wasn't a
simple question," she muttered to herself. "Am I supposed to know
everything even before it happens?"

She was so upset that she didn't even notice Danny Concannon opening
the door and walking in.

"Hey, C.J., I've just got...," Danny started, when his eyes burst
wide open.

Still angry at Leo, C.J. turned around and snapped at the
reporter. "Not now, Danny! I've got to get this German trade thing
straightened out." She still didn't realize her appearance.

"O-O-OK," Danny stammered as he headed for the door. But before he
exited, he turned and said, "You know, C.J., you give a whole new
meaning to the term 'casual Friday'."

C.J. looked down and realized she was wearing nothing but lace
panties and stockings. She flung her arm across her breasts, and put
the other hand between her legs to hide the dark patch of hair
visible through the delicate fabric.

"Out! OUT!" she screamed. Danny chuckled as he closed the door. C.J.
sat down on the edge of her desk and held her head. After a few
minutes, she buzzed Carol and instructed, "Cancel my meetings for the
next hour."

* * *

Before heading to the 2 p.m. briefing, C.J. buttoned her jacket up
all the way, and for safety she pinned it closed even higher.
Exposing herself to one reporter is bad enough -- she wasn't going to
flash the entire press corps.

C.J. hoped her nervousness wouldn't show to the reporters. They might
take it as a sign that something was wrong officially, rather than
sartorially. She also hoped that perhaps Danny would be off chasing
down some other story. But no, there he was, in his usual seat near
the back on the right side.

For the next 20 minutes, everything went smoothly. C.J. started to
relax, and fielded the questions with ease. Then Danny's hand shot
up. She skipped over him at first and called on a couple of other
reporters, but finally his was the only hand still aloft. She had no
choice.

"Danny?" she asked tentatively, crossing her arms in front of her to
more tightly close her jacket.

"C.J., isn't a tariff on Alaskan oil exports going to EXPOSE us to a
trade imbalance in the Pacific Rim?" Danny asked, deliberately
drawing out the word.

C.J. was flustered. "The tariff is ... the tariff will ... it's got a
sliding scale to allow for nations with varying trade records," she
said quickly. "That's it. The lid is on." She hurried out of the room.

The reporters looked at each other puzzled. The lid is on? At 2:30?
Is the White House shutting down early for the weekend? What gives?

As the press corps exited, Danny split from the pack. His pace
quickened as he made his way toward C.J.'s office. Carol tried to
stop him before he went in.

"Danny, I wouldn't...." But it was too late. He was through the
door.

"C.J., I...," Danny started.

"You what?" C.J. shouted back. "It isn't enough you gawk at me when
I'm naked. You have to spread it among the entire White House press
corps?"

"I didn't spread anything," Danny said. "I was just having a little
fun there. No one knows. Besides, what would I tell people? That the
White House press secretary doesn't need a padded bra? That she
doesn't dye her hair? And anyway, I didn't see you naked. You had
something on."

"Yeah, the latest from Victoria's Secret," C.J. answered.

"Besides," Danny continued, "that isn't something I want to share.
It's something I want all for myself."

"Wait a minute," C.J. protested, although her voice was noticeably
softer.

"No more waiting," Danny said. "Now, as a good reporter it's my job
to make sure I didn't miss anything this morning."

Danny reached over and started to pull off C.J.'s jacket. Not knowing
it was pinned closed, he ripped it apart. Buttons flew everywhere.

"Uh, Danny," C.J. said, even softer yet.

Danny didn't say a word. He just grabbed C.J.'s skirt and pulled it
over her hips, not even bothering to unzip it. He tossed the torn
garment aside.

"Danny...," C.J. continued in mock protest.

Still saying nothing, Danny took C.J.'s blouse by the collar and
ripped it off, leaving her standing there in the same lace panties he
saw her in this morning. They seemed to be even more sheer than he
recalled.

As Danny reached to get a more unfettered look at C.J.'s charms, she
suddenly got forceful and pushed him back.

"You just wait a minute!" she said. "I'm going to do something now
that I should have done this morning!"

"What's that?" Danny asked with uncertainty.

C.J. paused for a moment, then walked across the room.

"I'm locking the door," she said.


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