Of Course it's Not Good. There is no Good. It's What There Is.

"... and also, the President is hopeful that the agricultural package will bolster the economy."

"Even though it won't take effect soon enough to affect this growing season?"

"Yes, and if Congress had behaved reasonably, it would have been passed soon enough to do some good this year." CJ waved an arm at the other woman. "That's not a specific quote, Tabitha, but it is the reason we have to wait another year for the economic effects to show up." Leo appeared in her doorway. "Thanks, we're done."

"Morning, CJ. How you doing?"

"Morning, Leo. Don't talk about food and don't bring any food that smells near me, and I'm fine," she smiled. "Is this it?"

"Yeah. He's got a few minutes in about two minutes." CJ followed Leo through the halls; once he got ahead of her, but turned around at the next hallway junction. "Sorry. I keep forgetting..."

"I'll take that as a compliment to either the quality of my physical therapy or the quality of my calf massages from the guys." CJ smirked at the resulting expression on Leo's face. "Just there, Leo... don't look at me like that."

"Really, you're all trying to make me lose the rest of my hair." He turned around and started walking again, a little bit slower. "Is the damage permanent?"

"Some of it. It's mostly that I can't run, walk, or stay standing for long periods of time; the muscles are getting fairly strong, but they're not put together right anymore. I'll always have a limp at the end of the day." She lifted a shoulder. "It's like my right hand; I'll have nearly full functionality for a while, but start developing some form of arthritis or a lookalike in ten to fifteen years."

"Hell, CJ, how long did that take to sink in?" Leo paused in front of Charlie's desk. "Charlie?"

"He's free."

"Oh, about a week after I started being able to use them again." CJ laced her hands together as they went in.

"Good morning, sir."

"Morning, Leo. Morning, CJ." The President stood up and walked around his desk, gesturing to them to sit. "What did the two of you need to see me about? Josh been behaving himself?"

"He's been a good version of himself, sir," CJ answered, taking a seat on the couch further away from the President.

"I guess that's good enough. If he gets too annoying, I'll just put the Secret Service on him. So what did you need to see me about, since it's not Josh?"

Leo and CJ glanced at one another. CJ bit her lip. "Mr. President, there's going to be a thing you should be aware of," Leo finally said slowly.

"What kind of a thing?" Bartlet queried.

Leo looked at CJ. She stared back for a second, eyes wide, then turned to the President. "Me, sir. I'm pregnant."

Sometimes, the President could be even more up in the clouds than Sam. He smiled. "CJ, you'll make a wonderful mother; congratulations! Who's the lucky man?" He waved off Leo as his friend opened his mouth. "I don't care if it's a thing, Leo; this is great. Although depending on who the father is, I might punch him instead of congratulating him. When are you due?"

CJ blinked and looked away. "First week of February; thank you, sir," she whispered.

Once presented with such a contradictory reaction, the President's observational skills came into full play. Leo started again. "Mr. President-"

"Oh, CJ, I am so sorry... I really am. I take it you're sure?"

"You're at least the fifth person who's asked me that, sir."

"Okay." He looked at her for a minute. "CJ, please look at me." She turned her face to him. "Whatever you do, I'll support it."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it." She flicked a glance at Leo.

"Have you decided, CJ?" the President asked, observing the third such look since they sat down.

"Yes, sir. We... discussed it."

"The senior staff? You, Leo, Toby, Sam, Josh?"

"Yes, sir," Leo answered for her.

"Who else knows?"

"Donna and Carol, sir."

"Okay. What did you discuss?"

"Strategy," CJ answered uncomfortably.

The President stared at her. "CJ, you can't possibly be thinking of making political hay, or anything else political, out of what is your own personal business, your own personal trauma!"

"Sir, I don't have to think of doing it; it's going to happen. We've done some planning; we'll be doing more."

"CJ, how can you treat yourself as anything less than a human being in this?"

She swallowed. "Sir, I refuse to hurt you or your chances. We agreed on the choice that involved the least complicated political choices; as Toby said, the lesser of two evils; anything else would finish off any chance of doing what we came here to do."

"You're bringing this baby to term," he realized.

"Yes, sir."

The President stood up and paced to the windows, looking out at the White House grounds. Leo sat, nodding his head a little bit and looking at CJ. She watched the President with some nervousness. Finally, he came back, but instead of sitting down where he had been, he sat next to CJ and took her hand. "CJ, we're going to be here for whatever you need. If you change your mind, you will still have my complete support."

CJ nodded. "Thank you, Mr. President."

He stood and moved back to his original chair. "This isn't right," he said, mostly addressing Leo.

Leo looked at CJ. "No, sir. We had quite the argument about it." He rubbed one ear.

"I don't suppose the strategy will involve us trying to cram stiffer penalties for assault down the collective throat of Congress?"

"I think that might be too obviously political, sir, but we'll look into it."

The President rubbed his forehead and looked at his best friend. "Leo, this isn't good. This isn't what we should be about. This isn't what this country should be about."

"No, sir. But that's because right here, right now, for the immediate future, there is no good. This is what there is."

"All right." The President moved back to his desk. "Thank you both, and CJ, if you need anything, come and see me."

"Thank you, sir."

"Sam?"

He looked up. "Hey, CJ. What's up?"

"I'm off to the doctor again for my results."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "This is the official test before you make the announcement?" he asked.

"Yeah. Sam, you and Toby have a statement ready, right?"

"We finished it yesterday."

CJ raised an eyebrow. "That was fast," she congratulated.

He shrugged. "We were motivated. When are you going to be back?"

"I might not be here in time for the afternoon briefing; we can move it back half an hour if you want to see if it's just a small delay."

"I'll check with Toby, but he'll probably sign off on it. You're not announcing this afternoon, are you?"

"Nope. Tomorrow, as planned. I'd wait until I get the question, but this way the facts get put front and center, and they also have the correct information," CJ added dryly.

"Okay. Good luck. Hey," he said, as CJ turned to go. "You want me to come with you?"

"Sam, I think that's terribly sweet, and is the worst idea since the presentation from the Cartographers for Social Equality."

Toby appeared at the door. "Want someone with you?" he asked.

CJ rolled her eyes. "You guys... I can only spin so much with this."

"So that's a no?"

"Yes, Toby, that's a no. I don't need to get asked if you're the dad, and I don't need to get asked if Sam's the dad, at least not based on anything resembling evidence."

"Okay. Good luck, CJ."

"Thanks, Tobus." She left before Josh could show up and ask too.

The next morning, CJ was pretty sure she looked like a complete wreck. She knew she felt like one: she had gotten the official confirmation yesterday from an obstetrician, and was shortly going into what was likely to be the worst press conference of her life. Oh, it might turn out fine, but what she was addressing made any positive association impossible.

"Ten minutes!" Carol told her.

"I know... I know." CJ pulled her jacket on.

Josh poked his head in cautiously. "They won't let me stand up front, but I'll be watching in the back, and so will Donna. Let me know if you need me to kick any ass."

She smiled; couldn't help it. "Thanks, Josh, but I don't think you kicking reporter ass will actually improve our chances."

"You never know. See you in there." He vanished.

A couple of minutes later, CJ looked up from a last-minute flip through her briefing book to find Sam and Toby in the doorway. "Hey, guys. Time to go?"

"Yeah." Toby studied her carefully. "You ready for this?"

"Yeah. No. I mean, no, of course not, but what else is there?"

"We can easily make the case that you shouldn't be delivering statements about yourself, at the very least," Sam observed.

"Thanks. No. I've got it." CJ shut the briefing book and stepped forward. "Oh, ow," she exclaimed, sitting on the couch. "Shit."

Toby was there, gently feeling the leg. "Muscle cramp?" he asked.

"Yeah. Better here than actually at the briefing, I guess..." She closed her eyes as Toby rubbed it, and Sam sat next to her, one hand in hers. "Yeah, I think that's better," she said after a minute. "It wasn't a bad one. Thanks, Toby." She stood up again, carefully stepping forward and then back.

"No problem. Let's go." Carol hastened to get ahead of them as they exited her office and strode to the press room.

"Good luck, CJ," Leo said, passing them going the other way.

"Thanks!"

"The President says 'go get 'em', by the way!" Leo added.

"Thank you!"

At the door to the press room, CJ stopped and took several deep breaths with her eyes closed. Finally, she opened them and nodded to Carol, who immediately opened the door.

"Butterflies?" Sam asked.

"Good thing there's nothing in my stomach," CJ answered, entering and heading for the podium. Sam, Toby, and Carol stayed by the door. As she faced the press corps, CJ could see Josh watching her, and Leo came up and stood next to him. The guys were here. It was okay.

"All right, you guys, listen up. Also, write the date down. There is no news this morning except for one unusual item; everything will be handled at the briefing at 1:30 this afternoon."

"CJ? What's the unusual item?" someone asked before she could continue with it.

"I was just about to get to that. I'll only be giving statements and answers once, so pay attention." CJ glanced down at her notes quickly to make sure she had everything. "I'm sure some of you have noticed that I've been passing off the morning briefings sometimes these last couple of weeks, or you've all asked me not to pass the flu on to you." There was a bit of laughter. "Yesterday I visited an obstetrician in the area, and they were able to confirm that I am, indeed, pregnant." Calls broke out, and CJ held up a hand. "I'm due in the first week of February. The father is not in the picture, and I have every confidence that I'll be able to work and be a mom." The calls grew louder, and CJ pointed to a reporter.

"CJ, who is the father?"

"I'm glad you asked me that, Tom, because it gives me a good opportunity to read the White House's official statement on the matter, prepared especially for this press conference." CJ's voice shifted a little bit, became drier and a little more impersonal. "In early May, I was attacked early one morning by multiple individuals; their motive was not clear, and they have never been caught. All of you, and indeed most of the country, are already aware of this, and that I was severely injured. What was not revealed, for the sake of privacy, was the full nature of those injuries. I am due to deliver a baby almost exactly nine months after that day. My choices in this matter are my own; having a choice means just that. Other women went through this and made changes so that I and many others would have the chance to make this as a valid choice. I chose in the hopes that this would make another change: that though I value this life no less for its violent beginning, I hope that someday there are no such beginnings to a life. I will be continuing to work here, and have the complete support of my colleagues and the President of the United States, all of whom have, in advance and without being asked, volunteered their time to make sure this baby has a diverse and stimulating childhood, and that I feel supported during a time in which so many women feel they are faced with another impossible choice." CJ fell silent, and took a quick glance at Sam and Toby, counting the seconds of blessed silence.

Well, she could hear them writing, but that didn't really count as noise.

Fifteen... twenty...

"CJ!" She pointed again. "CJ, why didn't you reveal the full extent of your injuries?"

"In the first place, I was kind of unconscious in the hospital during most of the relevant press conferences, and in the second place, this is a very personal matter that only the police and the person involved, and close friends if she so chooses, should know about."

"So, CJ, would you say that if it hadn't resulted in pregnancy, this never would have been revealed?"

"No. Next." She caught the light in Toby's eyes as he took note of the reporter who'd asked the last question, and suspected that there might be one or two reporters getting their credentials pulled by the end of the day.

"CJ, do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"No. I won't know for about a month." There was a small chorus of half-hearted groans. "Start a pool now and I might let you know before February. Yeah, Arthur?"

"CJ, are you prolife or prochoice?"

"Arthur, I refuse to be constrained by a narrow dichotomy that's been polarizing this country for far too long. I was raised to respect life; I believe that a woman has certain rights as regards herself."

"So... that's a yes to both?"

"That's an 'I refuse to have either label slapped on me' to both, Arthur. Katie?"

Late that evening, CJ rested her head against the wood just outside her office, sighing. The press conference had gone as well as could be hoped, but she was exhausted and her leg was cramping and the nausea had never really gone away... so all day she'd been sneaking in little snacks of two or three crackers at a time, hoping her stomach wouldn't notice and rebel while she was in the Oval Office or somewhere equally awkward. The good thing about everybody knowing now, she couldn't help but think, was that at least they had some basic idea what to do when she suddenly headed for the nearest restroom: get the hell out of her way.

She was so absorbed and so tired that she didn't hear Josh come up behind her. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder, saying quietly, "Hey, CJ..."

He got no further, for CJ's nerves, frayed to tatters by the conference and everything in general, took her back two months. She pivoted on her right leg and swung her left hand out without really looking.

Hands from behind... hands behind me. Pulling me back. Touching hurting don't want to... NO!

She snapped out of it abruptly, and stood staring at Josh, who had one hand to his stomach and was staring at her nervously. "Um, CJ?" he asked, apparently seeing something different in her eyes or face.

"Josh? Oh, my God." She buried her face in her hands. "Josh, I didn't... oh, no. I'm so sorry... are you all right?"

"You pack a mean punch. I'll be okay, CJ... just glad I didn't have anything to eat recently."

She allowed herself a very slight smile. "Yeah, me too. Seriously, Josh, how hard did I hit you?"

"There'll be a little bruise. Seriously, CJ... you don't think I maybe had it coming?"

"Well, if I went by that, Josh, you would have spent a couple of weeks looking pretty bad." He smirked. "At least I'm out of my funk now."

"Glad I could help. Try to make it a little less painful next time, will you?"

"Yeah." She took a look around. "Josh, what are the chances that somebody saw that?"

"Very little. It's, like, 11 pm or something..." Josh took a look around, and then shrugged.

"Okay. Night, Josh."

"Night, CJ." He headed back to his own office.

Sam shut his laptop with a brisk click, and stood, stretching. He'd spent the last four hours writing, and before that... well, it had been a long day. He blinked at a sudden shadow in his doorway. "CJ?"

"Hey, Sam." Was her voice just a little too light, a little too controlled just now?

"Come on in, CJ. What's up?" He waved her in, and saw that she was very pale. More than that, she just... didn't look good. Sam couldn't put a name to it, but he felt something in him twist nervously, more so when she didn't say anything. "CJ? Is something wrong?"

"I hit Josh," she told him.

"Some people would say that's a good thing, not a bad thing."

"He put his hand on my shoulder. I thought-I thought he was..." she fell silent.

"Aw, CJ... C'mere." He wrapped her in a gentle hug, feeling her tremble just a little bit. Slowly, she seemed to relax, and he finally asked, "How hard did you hit him?"

"I'm not sure. He said it'd be 'a little bruise.'"

"Some people would say that's poetic justice."

"That's what Josh said." Sam leaned back and made eye contact. "I was going to ask if you're okay, but you don't look good. Want a ride home?" This had happened in varying combinations and with various destinations several times, and wouldn't arouse the least suspicion.

CJ hesitated, but finally nodded. "Reliving, not remembering," she said in a small voice, quoting what Josh had told her.

"Oh, CJ, I wish you didn't have to deal with this," he told her.

She shook her head slowly. "It's what there is," she answered.

"I know. That doesn't mean I have to like it. Come on."

"Sam, I'll be fine. You don't have to stay."

"CJ, we've done this before. Nobody's gonna care, and if they do, Toby will mop the floor with them."

"What if you were Toby?"

They both started laughing. "Then I'd mop the floor with them," he answered.

"As yourself, or as Toby?"

"I honestly don't know."

"Seriously, Sam..."

"CJ, you have a couch. I'll be fine. You look like you're going to have a bad night."

"Way to buck a girl up, Sam," she said, smiling. Then she sobered abruptly. "Yeah, you're right. I just want to show I can handle it, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

"No sitting up the whole night, understand? I don't want to have to explain you looking awful, as if it's contagious or something..."

"I'll be sleeping right here," he said, pointing to the couch.

"Good night, Spanky. And thanks."

"Night, CJ."

Some hours later, in whatever still hour of the night, Sam woke up. He frowned, looking around a bit. The fact that his outstretched hand met air where it ordinarily would have run into more bed clued him in to where he was.

There was a sharp, desperate cry from the bedroom, and he remembered.

CJ. Flashback.

Sam got up hastily, tripping himself in the sheets, and ran into the bedroom. There, he paused briefly at the sight of CJ. He couldn't tell whether she was conscious or not, and if she was, if she was so strongly in the grip of a flashback that she had no idea where she was.

There was only one way to find out, so Sam carefully approached the bed and leaned over it, reaching down to touch CJ lightly. "CJ, it's Sam-"

His questions were rapidly answered when CJ took a swing at him, hand bared. He stumbled back hastily, wincing as her nails hit his lower cheek and jaw. She screamed, a sound Leo would have recognized had he been there.

Oh, God. This was by far the worst flashback CJ had experienced to date. He carefully approached again. "CJ, it's okay, it's Sam..." he said, repeating several times with variations on the theme that she was safe. Sam massaged his forehead, considering his options, and finally headed for the phone, taking a quick glance at his watch along the way. It was a little before 2 am. This was going to be fun...

"Hello?" a sleepy voice answered.

"Donna?"

"Sam? What's wrong? Where are you?"

"I'm at CJ's. She's... I can't..." Sam knew Donna couldn't see him waving his arms around helplessly, but she seemed to understand.

"Give me a few minutes. I'll be right there."

"Thanks, Donna."

He wandered in a restless circuit while he was waiting, centered around CJ's room. It'd be really fun if she snapped out of it just before Donna got here... but no. There was a tap on the door, and Sam hastened to it.

"Donna. Thank you so much."

"No problem. Big nightmare?"

"Flashback, I think." Sam stepped back, falling into a bit more light as he did so, and Donna did a double take.

"Sam, what are those?"

He pointed at his jaw. "These? My first try with CJ."

"Ouch. So we're going to have a matching set, or what?"

"Well, you're not a man, so I hope not."

Donna rolled her eyes a bit and stepped into the bedroom. "CJ," she said, coming up to the bed. "It's Donna. You're just having a flashback... it's okay, CJ." She sat down and started running a hand over CJ's hair, being careful not to get her fingers caught and tangled in it. "CJ, come on..."

Finally, CJ blinked, then curled up on one side. "Donna?"

"Welcome back." Donna smiled down at her.

"Thanks. What are you doing here?"

"Sam called me. You remember anything?"

"Isn't it 2 am or something?"

"Basically, yeah. You remember anything?"

"Just it happening again," CJ shook her head.

"Okay. CJ, are you going to be okay with Sam, or do you want me to stay?"

CJ squinted up at Sam. "You got some sleep, right?" she half-asked, half-admonished.

"A couple of hours, yeah."

"Okay." CJ seemed to tuck herself into the covers even more. "I think we'll be okay. Thank you, Donna."

"You're welcome. Good night, CJ." Donna bent down and gave her a swift hug.

"Thanks, Donna," Sam added.

"See you guys in a few hours," she shot cheerfully.

Sam sat down by her door. CJ watched him for a few minutes, then closed her eyes. When she opened them, he was still there. "Um, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"The couch is in the other room."

"Yeah, I know."

"Sam, are you going to sit there all night?"

"Probably. I don't want to leave you alone."

He had a good point; that was when flashbacks usually started. "Okay, you're not going to get any sleep like that, and I'm not sure I will, either." She flipped the covers back. "Get in. Don't touch me from behind."

Sam stared for a second. "CJ, are you serious?"

"Very. Get in before I take all the covers." Slowly, Sam stood up and came around, carefully climbing in as though she might hit him at any moment.

"CJ, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"It's better than yours." CJ looked at his face. "Sam? Where are those from?"

He rubbed the scratches. "Um, they're kinda from you. And I was in front of you, so I wouldn't want to imagine what would happen if I touched you from behind..."

She could feel herself turning scarlet. "Sam, I'm so sorry..."

"CJ, it's okay. You had no idea where you were."

"Thanks," she murmured, drifting off again.

Half an hour later, she woke up gasping from another nightmare, staring at Sam. He was staring right back, blue eyes reflected in the dim light.

"I'm okay," she managed.

"CJ..."

"Shut up," she said softly. She bit her lip for a moment, then rolled over and pillowed her head on his chest. He jumped.

"CJ, I don't know if-"

"Go to sleep, Samuel." His heartbeat, his warmth and presence, were incredibly calming, and CJ had to wonder why she had never tried this before. She wrapped one arm around his shoulder, and felt Sam slowly relax and put an arm across her back.

Soon they were both asleep.