Title from 'cowboy like me' by Taylor Swift. This fic is dedicated to elflordsmistress, who was the reason why I was so prolific at the start of the year (when this was written) ️

I wrote quite a lot in March, and this is part of my output from then. (I'm still working on a long multichapter from that time. Look for it sometime this year? Hopefully.). This particular idea was based on a random line in a completely different (and unpublished) fic, and I ended up writing it all in one morning. This is just a (hopefully fun) take on what the CJ-Danny dynamic might have been pre-canon – it's definitely not the only one I have, heh. I wish there was more fic about this.

My apologies if I got any weather stuff wrong/using generalizations. In particular, I based St. Augustine's weather here off the part of Florida I do know quite well, a couple of hours south.

Many thanks to theoofoof and elflordsmistress for their beta work Hope you all enjoy this! :) ️

The second the call with Hogan disconnected, she stopped walking around the secluded garden area and was hit with a cold breeze she wasn't prepared for. The reception inside the hotel and near the museum was poor and, besides, C.J. wanted privacy. She loved her spin boys but she didn't need to be teased about being maternal with her niece.

She just wasn't expecting cold, and it was definitely colder than she had expected after such a humid day.

She had been told Florida wasn't really ever cold, at least not like it could be in the northeast, but clearly, she had been lied to. Worse than that, she had been dumb enough not to bring a shawl out with her to take the call, and now that she was not pacing around the area she was feeling that chill down to her bones.

C.J. walked back to the event, admiring the fairy lights all around the garden. The way they seemed to create little paths for people to walk through was magical, and it didn't feel tacky. In fact, Hotel Alcazar and the Lightner Museum within were just breathtaking — she felt like she was strolling through history. The Governor had said as much, sharing different fun facts about St. Augustine to whoever dared to listen to him.

It was barely noticeable now, under the moonless dark sky peppered with a few twinkling stars, but the tile roof and the gorgeous towers sort of reminded her of the architectural style of the California missions without it being completely analogous. It was quite the image, and despite the city's light pollution, she could still recognize some of the most well-known constellations. She made a mental note to look up the architectural style, sensing that their Spanish colonialist origins might factor into the similarities she was seeing.

C.J. rubbed her arms to get rid of the uncomfortable chill while she admired the different fountains and the lush bushes and flowers. Not wanting to drop her phone, she placed it carefully in the small purse she was carrying. It was then she saw him, off to the side, on one of the small stone bridges over one of the fountains that divided the garden. His own mobile phone was in his hands as he looked into the distance without really seeing anything.

C.J. would never, ever admit to finding Danny Concannon remotely cute to anyone, ever, but right now in such a mystically lit, romantic garden, she had to admit he didn't look half bad.

Her attraction to him was just... too complicated to explain.

C.J. had met the reporter at the Bartlet for America headquarters when they had blatantly flirted with each other before Josh had actually introduced them to each other. Giving them both a rather rude awakening. There had been something about the redhead that spoke to her; the kind of unexplainable pull you spend years trying to find before you realize it's all about finding that one person. Still, she had tossed it aside and not given it much thought, especially when Danny had become guarded and shy, unlike the funny guy who had been engaging and making eyes at her for the previous five minutes.

It hadn't been until a few days later that C.J. had discovered that Danny Concannon was one of those journalists who were nice to your face and then critical in their inches above the fold. She had attempted to contain her white-hot rage when she had seen him later that morning, on the dingy bus they shared with the five other journalists that followed the campaign. She had tried to breathe slowly and deeply so as to not give in to the urge to strangle him but still, she hadn't been able to resist accidentally hitting him. It wasn't C.J.'s fault that a few briefs slipped from her grasp when she put them in an overhead bin.

What she was saying was… he was definitely not attractive to her.

C.J. Cregg was not attracted to him or his otherwise funny jokes, or his ability to be scathing towards them and making it seem like reasonable criticism they should take into consideration.

No.

Yet, much like the first time they met, she found her feet walking towards him as if she couldn't pass up the opportunity to mess with him. All in all, C.J. was trying to be friendly towards those reporters who were still following them around, and in this case, and as much as it pained her to admit it, having a recent Pulitzer winner following them was helpful and lent some needed credibility to the campaign. C.J. was aware he was possibly writing an Abbey Bartlet biography, but if she could do anything so he stuck around… she would.

"Did you know that St. Augustine is the oldest continuously inhabited European settlement in the continental US?" She was standing just far enough that he hadn't noticed her presence but close enough so he could still hear without her yelling. Danny looked up in surprise and almost let the phone slip from his hands. He immediately stood straighter, managing a half-smile as she walked towards him.

"I've only heard that a time or three in the last six hours. Thanks for reminding me, I almost forgot."

"I aim to serve," she quipped back agreeably, walking down the final steps to meet him in the middle of the secluded bridge, careful not to step on her red gown. The dancing water in the small fountain pool looked lovely, particularly with the different shades of blue that kept appearing. "What are you doing out here? The party is back there, inside. Don't you have things to write about… People to interview, perhaps?"

"Sure I do but I am allowed to take a break, aren't I?" he replied without really looking up, matching her sarcasm as he dropped the phone into his suit pocket. "It's my oldest niece's fifth birthday. I was calling her now before it got too late for her. It... feels odd not to be celebrating with her."

"Do you usually get to be with her?"

"Not always. I'm her godfather so there's some guilt attached to missing her special day." C.J. watched his face, in awe of all the emotion he was displaying. Danny was normally adept at hiding his own vulnerability around the staffers, ever the professional, so this was throwing her off. "She is just so excited – I could picture her telling me she's five raising her hand, flashing me her big smile. She's missing her front tooth, which is quite the fun sight."

"It's a really good age. A fun one."

He nodded. "Do you have any nieces or nephews?"

"A couple of them. I'm actually the godmother to two of them but they're a few years older than yours. And needless to say, if I ever read about them in the papers…"

"I'm off the record, C.J."

Those magic words always reduced the spikes in tension between them and inside of her. She rattled her nails on the railing, enjoying the way the breeze was blowing through her hair.

"Aren't you supposed to be inside too, by the way?" Danny retorted, with a funny expression on his face. "I doubt you're out here to get me."

"Maybe I was…" At his tilted head, questioning her own statement, she confirmed, "The phone reception inside was garbage and I had to take a call."

"I figured."

C.J. would have loved to describe the silence that followed as comfortable, but it was not. It was quite the opposite, with a nervous energy she couldn't quite navigate as they both faced the water in front of them. The awkwardness between them was palpable, and she was willing to admit her part in it. After all, she still resented him for saying that she wasn't good at her job — he might have not used those specific words but that was the general meaning from that quote — so it was yet another stake to her heart and another reason why she had to let her little crush die.

You don't have a crush, C.J. Stop thinking that.

However, there was a part of her that just couldn't take a hint, and, for some strange reason, being there with him made her heart beat faster.

"The Governor did good tonight," Danny complimented her, his lips curving up slightly in a mere attempt to create some small talk. "Give Sam and Toby my props — that was a nicely written speech."

"The Governor's always excellent. You just can't appreciate how excellent an orator he is."

"You know that if you use that excuse over and over it's going to lose all its meaning, don't you? And you'll prove me right. I believe he's very good and you know it."

"Shut up."

C.J. hated that he could call her out so effectively through sarcasm and humor — those were her things, darn it. She fixed her eyes on a bench a few feet away from them, rolling her eyes, and mentally added that as another reason why this stupid crush had no place in her life and why it was actually detrimental to her job.

It wasn't as though he liked her. He tolerated her, at most.

C.J. had always been good at reading people; she prided herself on her ability to capitalize on that. This particular reporter was usually courteous and professional, but ever since Josh Lyman opened his damn mouth at HQ Danny had become dismissive and aloof when their conversations veered into the personal like he couldn't wait to get out of there. Like a switch had been flipped quite suddenly and he had forgotten they had connected. Danny had put them in opposite corners of a boxing ring and she was nothing but good at taking a hint. She had seen the duality of the man, the one who was in work mode and the one who was looking for a new conquest.

And there she had been, thinking they had had a Moment, with capital M, in the middle of a bustling office floor where time had seemed to freeze in time the second their eyes met.

"It is a beautiful night," Danny said off-handedly, as if sensing she was far away, but not far enough to have left the bridge. She blinked away her thoughts and, instead of looking at him, chose to focus her momentary bewilderment on some roses off to the side. He never tried to keep the conversation going.

Any conversation that wasn't about work would normally end swiftly; tonight was the exception.

This was probably a beautiful place to get proposed to, with its magical, fairy-like ambiance. She hated herself a little for even thinking of it, but after her conversation with Hogan, she couldn't help but think of all the romantic milestones she had left behind or had yet to accomplish.

"We could've gotten sticky-hot, humid Florida even at night. 'Tis the season, after all. I like this breeze."

"Right. I just wasn't expecting to be this chilly at night. Gosh, I've been inside the hotel for too long."

"If you're cold, I could lend you my jacket for a bit. I don't mind."

"No, thank you."

"It's really no problem at all. You can find me inside when you get back"

"It's fine, Danny," she repeated a bit more forcefully. "Thanks."

C.J. was caught off guard by the fact that he seemed to be fine with this weather. Maybe it was those couple of years in Cambridge with Josh that contrasted with her sunny California existence. She was supposed to be a Midwesterner accustomed to the cold who mocked those who couldn't handle a tiny gust of cold wind. But apparently, her last few years in Southern California had made her that kind of person she mocked in good fun years ago.

"Are you used to this type of weather?" she wondered out loud, genuinely curious to know the answer. Later, she'd chastise herself for keeping the small talk going, but at the moment it felt right to enjoy some of this otherwise lovely night outside; away from old, annoying donors who just wanted a dance with her.

"Sort of. We lived in Austin for a few years, back when I was a kid, and then I worked in Dallas after college for a while before I moved to DC. I've had my share of sticky hot weather, sure, and the sneaky cold that can roll in at night. I'm assuming you are… not?"

"Yes. No. Not really. New York could be bad in the summer, but not this bad — I thought I was suffocating when we got out of the car and it's mid-April," she shared, eyes wide as she remembered the way she felt sweat sticking to her skin or how hard it had been to breath when they stood under the sun. "I spent my summers in the Bay Area so it was never awful… it was actually pretty nice."

"Wait, really? My mom was from Sac-town."

"Really?"

"Yeah! I spent my formative years vacationing there," he shared excitedly, his eyes wide. She angled her body towards his, interested in knowing more. This was a side of him she hadn't seen yet. "I remember going to Sutter's Fort once every summer. I was very interested in the California gold rush era — I was a kid, so I mostly thought the place was really cool without being aware of all the ugliness that had transpired back then. I also recall biking along the American River Bike Trail with my sister for a couple of weeks every summer, swimming at Sand Cove Park…"

"I can tell you have fond memories of the place," she commented, picturing a younger version of the man in front of her being carefree, and making her wish her teenage years hadn't been engulfed in gloom.

"I never really lived there so I never got tired of it — it was just a nice escape from the routine I knew. And yeah, the heat was never this bad then."

His eyebrows were an invitation for her to share something about her own childhood as well, no matter how superficial. The worst part? She was actually compelled to do it, and it wasn't just because she could feel his fingers giving off a welcome warmth as they inched closer to hers on the wooden railing. Danny was just a warm person, in general, which was why he was such a successful interviewer and why people were compelled to share things they definitely should not with him.

C.J. shuddered imperceptibly and blamed another the breeze that shook the trees behind them, rather than the need to feel his hand over hers. She really shouldn't want to feel his hand over hers. And she shouldn't misinterpret this current closeness as anything other than an olive branch — that much she was sure of.

"My family spent summers in Napa, or just outside the city. I remember running around the large backyards with my brothers, playing hide and seek with my cousins. There were these big, old mills we'd hide behind, and the trees… they had a huge treehouse and I loved seeing the sunsets from up there." Her face became somber, remembering how dark the memories became soon after — almost literally, another different type of sunset. "We also went on a hot air balloon trip once and it's an experience that's stuck in my mind since. Everything looked so tiny from up there."

"That had to be exhilarating."

"My older brother was scared of heights and wouldn't look down but I felt so… fearless. The sun bathing the valley, seeing the ground's patterns from the sky… It was beautiful."

She sighed, yearning to go back to being that careless child who felt invincible.

"I bet."

"When I was older we started camping in the Miami Valley, and my dad would tell me all about the stars and constellations in the night sky." All of the sunlight and free-spiritedness of the memories Napa summers brought became night and grief as she embarked on a journey through her teen years. She stopped herself from saying anything else, realizing she had given him too many details.

"Miami Valley? Are you from Ohio?" Danny turned towards her, a confused frown forming on his face. "I thought you were from Southern California."

"Nope, born and raised in Dayton, Ohio. I guess some of my mom's Californian genes come out sometimes. I also went to college in the Bay Area, but you knew that."

"Huh." Danny looked adorable, thrown off and stumped like this.

"And once again, if any of those personal details I just told you about make their way into the papers, I'll know it was you and I'll find you and strangle you myself."

"I have no interest in breaking your trust, C.J."

C.J. eyed him, the warmth from the last few minutes disappearing suddenly as the resentment from the last few weeks clawed its way back. His words had unlocked that feeling she had put away, triggering her hurt.

"It's not like you attempt to keep it, either," she replied rather coldly.

"Now, wait a second." Danny interrupted her, raising a finger as his own anger came through. The shared closeness they had been inching towards was officially shattered. He was fully facing her now, his eyes shining with hurt. "I have been nothing but fair to you. Just because I'm one of ten people covering this campaign doesn't mean I have to praise you all to the skies."

"You love touting your reputation as a 'nice' guy when in truth you can't even say some things to our faces."

"Are you still mad about the...?" Danny wondered, searching within the flaring anger in her eyes. She wasn't about to back off from a fight but yes, she was thinking about that scathing quote once again. Any time she spent more than five minutes with him, she remembered. "Come on, I didn't even say that. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"And yet the New York Times quoted you saying exactly those words — that I'm too soft and too friendly with the press."

"It's not something I would ever say. He took my comment out of context and made it into something different — what I said was a compliment."

"Yeah, tell that to my bosses, who wondered if I should be relegated to doing menial announcements for a bit while that cycle died down."

"That perception is due to your professional background. You schmooze up to reporters and network with us, which is a fresh way to approach the job, and some will think it's bad when it's not. This is a glorified PR job; there's nothing wrong with being friendly." Then softer, almost imperceptibly, "I think it's really nice you care so much about getting the message across well, and even about the journalists following you."

"The quote still hurt. You could've told me that to my face. I've always been open to feedback. I know I'm not perfect but I want to be better, never mind how we do in the end." Though this was irrational and he didn't owe her anything, that had been what had hurt her the most: the fact he didn't just tell her. Maybe it was those pesky, unwanted feelings for him that complicated it all. She wasn't seeking out other reporters' opinions, that was for sure.

"I'm telling you now: you are doing okay. More than okay. If the Governor and Leo can't see the diamond in the rough they have in front of them, that's their problem, but I know they know how invaluable you are."

C.J. felt flattered by his compliment and the validation that quieted some of those inner voices who whispered she was in over her head. That didn't mean she fully trusted his intentions, though. She shifted her weight into her other foot, leaning against the bridge's railing and facing him with an emotionless face. The anger coursing through her veins was warming her enough not to feel the increasingly colder wind blowing around them. As a reminder it was getting late, the illumination of the garden transitioned to a more sparse lighting setting, but their immediate vicinity was still bright enough for her to gauge his expression and realize he didn't hold any ill will towards her. Considering she was likely to regret this impulsive outburst soon enough, this was for the best.

"You could have been gossiping about that to your fellow vultures but no, of course you didn't. You chose to be critical of us, as if you reporters didn't have eyes."

"Have you thought about how or why Nick might have chosen that one quote out of everything else we might have chatted about? You are falling into his trap." Danny rubbed his temple, annoyed at the quick downward turn the friendly chat had taken. "Even then, my job is not about highlighting potential or praising you all for the things you do right. I'm supposed to give a sober perspective on what you're doing and what your future plans for this country would be. I have to give a level-headed analysis, contrast your proposals against any past precedent. That sort of thing."

C.J. didn't care if he was making too much sense; he was still annoying her.

"You've spent almost as much time with us as I have and yet it seems like you still don't know what we are about!"

She didn't really believe the words coming out of her mouth, aware she was being unfair out of spite – Danny had been generally fair to them, he was right about that – but she had the right to be irrational and seek to draw blood now, seeking to replicate the hurt she had felt over his words.

"Maybe it's because you're not delivering your message to the people of this country well? Which is not my problem; it's yours." He retorted, taking a step forward towards her decisively, with an authoritative air he did not often display but that came naturally with his experience. "Just because I know you guys pretty well and can see what you're really selling, or even because I have talked to all of you extensively, doesn't mean I'm supposed to be on your side. And before you say anything, yes I'm writing a book on the Governor's incredibly accomplished wife, but it doesn't mean I cannot be objective." His voice became dangerously low as he delivered the blow that sunk her heart, "I'm nothing in my business without my objectivity. I wouldn't compromise it for anything."

C.J. pursed her lips, hot tears brimming in her eyes as she took in his very reasonable argument. This was the kind of honesty that hurt to hear but she was thankful to have. For the sake of her makeup and her own self-esteem, she shouldn't and wouldn't cry out of frustration — not when she was supposed to be back inside soon. If no one had noticed she was missing yet, they would once they start laying out tomorrow's game plan.

"I... It seems to me that your criticism is one of your attempts to write off any accusations of favoritism from us," C.J. finally said, attempting to voice the true nagging feeling she'd been having about his latest articles for days, if not weeks. Beyond what he might have just said, she couldn't shake it off and needed to hear him deny it. A feeling that had been eating her inside as she told herself why she shouldn't even entertain the idea of falling for him because it was a bad idea, for the two of them.

Danny raised his eyebrows unamused, his fist clenching as he tried to control his own frustration towards her. She had drawn blood the way she wanted. And she was glad. "It is not."

"Only it is."

"Trust me when I say I wouldn't still be around if I didn't genuinely believe in what you guys were doing. I only promised Josh I'd stay around for two weeks — not three and a half months and a book deal that keeps me in your orbit until the convention… or until November, or whenever the end of the campaign might be."

The words hung in the air between them, electrifying, full of anger. Their breathing was shallow, slower, and all in all, it was funny how such a dreamlike garden was the scene for a brawl that had been a long time coming. This much frustration, this much anger – it needed an outlet.

"That doesn't mean a thing."

His blue eyes — had they always been this icy? — pierced her soul and made her retreat, noting they were almost as cold as the breeze enveloping the two of them. "It means everything. You know as well as I do that I'm lending credibility to this campaign by being here."

C.J.'s jaw clenched but she didn't say anything, avoiding his eyes. She was becoming increasingly aware of how close they were standing to each other, and it was starting to cloud her senses far more than she had expected.

"Here's the actual advice that you are seeking: grow thicker skin. People will talk about you and not all of their words will be particularly nice. You are too good at your job to let comments like that get under your skin."

His breath, warm and sweet from the scotch he'd drunk earlier, was now fanning her face, muddling her senses. Despite their argument, or maybe because of it, their bodies had inched closer to each other and their chemistry was palpable far beyond their passionate argument. Danny had always been too good at getting under her skin and making her admit some of her own uncomfortable flaws, which made his advice particularly funny in retrospect. Why was his opinion so important to her then, compared to what others said? It didn't make sense.

Only it does, and you know why.

C.J. became more aware of the darkness that surrounded them, with only a few fairy lights lighting up this secluded garden area — after all, the donors' dinner was a two-minute walk back — and it was making her bold enough to stare at his lips across the short distance, indulging herself under this magical ambiance. From the way his eyes were doing the same thing, and from the rhythm of his own breathing, she. couldn't help but wonder if he felt that electricity between them as clearly as she did. For the last few months, she had convinced herself it was all in her head, believing whatever she wanted to see, but the yearning on his face was unmissable and forced her to admit she might be wrong.

Did he feel this too?

Feeling emboldened, she leaned towards him, the tip of their noses brushing as their breath mingled. Her breath hitched as she became vaguely aware of what she was doing – what they both were doing – but she wanted this so badly. Had she been channeling her anger, she might have kissed him hard already but something had shifted inside of her in the last few seconds, letting the anger dissipate into nervousness that made her fingers tingle.

His right-hand fingers covered her left hand as his left dropped to her waist, making her stand in place. The tentativeness of his touch was making her knees buckle in anticipation, something she hadn't felt in so long.

This was stupid.

And this was a really, really bad idea – for the two of them. They had just spent five minutes yelling at each other about propriety and objectivity, the constant reminder of the conflict that inherently came with their jobs.

The funny thing about feelings, though, was they didn't stop to consider rational thought.

And you know what? Screw rational thought.

Perhaps it would put an end to this weird tension between them and remove the attraction once and for all. Was this a naive approach? There was only one way to find out.

C.J. closed her eyes, ready to have it happen if he wouldn't remove the last half inch between them because it was killing her so much she was vibrating and —

Wait. The vibration was coming from her purse. Her phone was ringing.

Instead of planting one on him as a promise of a redo in a couple of minutes, C.J. moved back, stepping out of the trance she was in, even if her heart did not get the hint. This moment, as sudden and impulsive as it had arrived, had been shattered into a million pieces leaving her just as breathless.

It was for the best.

Every heartbeat, every inch, had felt like an eternity when, as a whole, it might have only been a second or two – it was funny how transcendental something that short could feel. Deep down, C.J. knew why: she had been ready to surrender and give in to the unspoken and inappropriate feelings she had for this man. How much she had truly wanted this scared her. She had had no idea how much it would change their relationship.

Eyeing the reporter carefully, taking a couple of tentative steps backward, C.J. flipped her phone open and greeted Toby on the line, deftly shutting out whatever non-professional emotion she might have been experiencing at the gruffness in her friend's tone. Her old friend wondered about her whereabouts and told her to come back to the reception area. Even if she wasn't in a daze anymore, her senses were still clouded by Danny's intoxicating woodsy scent and their relative closeness even now. She exhaled deeply once she hung up on Toby, feeling the rush of processing what they had almost done, and avoided sweep over her. Once it transformed into relief, she let out a breath she hadn't been aware she had been holding.

His eyes remained an ocean she could drown in, and they were both locked in on her, capturing this moment forever. She didn't know what to do or what to expect from… this, but his calloused hand caressing her cheek as he moved a strand of hair out of her eye hadn't been it. Sensing she might have to do something, and resisting stepping out of this bubble as much as he was, she fixed his bow tie, which was hardly crooked to her eye, before taking a couple of additional steps backward.

What scared her the most was that she couldn't fool herself into believing her feelings were not reciprocated when he was looking at her like that. Perhaps his distance and his aloofness had always been something else. Something she had not been quite ready to identify for fear it might change the status quo and threaten both their careers.

It was too much to think about right now.

"They're waiting for me inside," C.J. finally pointed in the direction of the hotel, finally breaking the quiet, intimate standoff between them and shaking the thoughts out of her head. "I have to go."

"Okay. I'll see you later."

She offered him a warm, sheepish smile, waving at him timidly.

"I'll see you around."

He reciprocated her warmth with a shy wave as she turned around. C.J. felt dread wash over her as the realizations of the last few minutes sank in, and she was thankful he couldn't see that struggle. If getting rid of those feelings was important before, it was a necessity now.

There was no way they could make it work. Not only would it be bad for him and his integrity but it would destroy her reputation and her nascent career in national politics. How was she going to ignore his winsome smile every time she got on the bus, knowing that there might be something beyond the professional between them? She would have to think of ways of working through that.

The contrast between the interior and the cool exterior was more noticeable than she expected as she got to the entrance to the hotel. Her eyes took a few seconds to adjust from the relative dark of the moonless night to the blinding lights inside, illuminating the former pool area that was now the café hosting tonight's event. Josh waved at her from the table where they were gathered and she walked there, managing a forced smile that hid her shaken state.

When she got to their round table, successfully avoiding the lieutenant governor's advances, she gathered her shawl and put it on, watching as Danny entered through a different door and greeted some of his colleagues at the bar.

It would take some effort but she could make it work. She could move on from him. Grieve what they could've had, had things been different.

She had to.