Danny thrust off the covers and propped himself up on an elbow. The glowing red letters on his clock radio said it was one a. m. He had gone to sleep only an hour ago.

"What's up, CJ?"

"Can you come over?" It came out as a sob.

"Be right there."

Twenty-five groggy minutes later, he rang her doorbell. She opened the door almost immediately. He could see that she had washed her face, but it was still blotchy. She was smiling sheepishly.

"I'm being silly. I shouldn't have called."

"Don't worry about it. Ask me in," he said.

"Okay." She made way for him, and he followed her into a lamp-lit living room.

"Do you want something to drink?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Sit." He sat, and she went into the kitchen.

He waited until they were sitting, facing each other, each with a drink in hand, and let her take a sip before he said, "So?"

"So," she put her drink down and ran her fingers over her skirt, straightening it. "So, Gail died."

"Ah, no!" he said. "You killed my fish."

It got her back up. "My fish, Danny, and I didn't kill her. She died. It happens. Fish get old. They die."

"Okay."

"Only –" she sighed. "Only I thought – I took it as a sign. Don't laugh. A bad sign for us, I mean. Do you think it's a sign?"

"Nah. Fish get old, like you said. We'll get another fish."

"I don't want another fish."

"So we'll get a hermit crab," he said.

"Okay."

"Did I miss the funeral?"

"You missed the burial, I'm afraid. I've flushed her away already."

"Boy, goldfish sure have undignified deaths," he said. "Alright. Burial over with, ceremony to follow."

He did laugh, then, and she chuckled a little, too. Then she said, "I just want this to work. I really, really like you."

"CJ, what I said on Wednesday… I shouldn't have said it. I don't want to rush you. Take all the time you need."

"No, no, it's okay. I'm glad you said it. It made me feel – proud."

"Really?" he said, surprised.

"Really. Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"There's something I haven't told you. When you were in Sudan – in between when we first knew each other and when you came back to the White House – there was a guy."

"I don't care that you dated. We weren't together then, CJ. I dated, too."

"We didn't date," she said. "He was a Secret Service agent."

"Wow. That's, uh, intimidating. Was it the gun that got to you? Because I could get a gun."

"Danny."

"Maybe just a little toy plastic one –"

"Shut up. He died."

"Oh," he said.

"Yeah." She looked away, but he could see she was tearing up again.

"How?" he asked.

"He walked into the middle of an armed robbery. He arrested a guy, and while he was waiting for New York police to show up, a second guy shot him through the window."

"And you liked him," Danny said.

"I did." She finished her drink. "Danny I really like you."

"And our fish died, and you're scared, because you think it's a bad sign."

"Right."

"CJ, if I ever walk into an armed robbery, I will give the crooks my wallet and I will get out of their way."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Okay," she said.

He leaned forward and tucked a soft strand of hair back behind her ear. "You can be the tough one, CJ."

She slipped off her shoes, stepped onto the wooden floorboards in stockinged feet, and climbed into his chair with him. He pulled her onto his lap, wrapped his arms around her middle, and kissed the side of her head.

"Danny?"

"Mm."

"I love you, too."

He drew back, astonished, then placed his hand on her jaw and turned her head toward him. He looked into her eyes for a long moment, and then kissed her full on the mouth.

"Okay," he said.

"Danny?" she fussed absently with his shirt buttons.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me about those women."

"What women?"

"The ones you dated."

"Well, they were short…"