Been really long since the last update - sorry about that! Hope you still like the story.
Ron Butterfield stood in his make-shift office. He had set up shop at their base in New York, as the preparation for the President's arrival was in full swing. He was watching a tape from the interrogation room. The suspect certainly didn't look like a maniac, but he supposed that was to be expected. The man on the screen was weak, confused, but most surprisingly, he was terrified. Ron had been in this business for almost all his adult life and had seen his fair share of criminals, psychopaths, and terrorists, but this poor photographer didn't seem to fit the bill. A sharp knock on his door sounded.
"Enter!" Ron called. The head investigator in Miss Cregg's stalker case, Justin Boyer, walked into his office.
"Well?" Ron asked.
"It's the same thing, over and over," Boyer said, sounding annoyed.
"Doesn't that strike you odd?" Ron asked, pausing the video, staring at the image of the man.
"Not that per se…" Boyer's voice drifted off as he too stared at the frozen image on the screen.
"What is it?" Ron looked at the other man, wondering if he was going to confirm his suspicion.
"I just think his story is so peculiar. I can't understand why he would make that up, why he wouldn't make up a different story —or even just keep shut and ask for a lawyer. It just doesn't make sense.
"I see," Ron said seriously.
"We've been interrogating Mr. Paji for hours. He hasn't slept for a long time, but he still insists on the same thing, just keeps repeating the same story again and again."
"That someone paid him to take the pictures of Ms. Cregg and leave them in a P.O. box?" Ron interjected.
"Yes. This man has no priors, studied photography, and seems not to know a whole lot about C.J., except someone wanted her pictures," Boyer finished.
"Have you retrieved the surveillance video from the train station where the P.O. box is?" Ron asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had an inkling that something was wrong, very wrong. But he just couldn't put his finger on it.
"No, not yet. My people are on it and should return soon," Boyer replied.
"Is there something else?" Ron asked as Boyer had a strange look on his face.
"I don't know about you, but I believe him," Boyer spoke quietly.
"There is something I want to run by you," Ron said, "Close the door."
Carol stood in front of Danny, hands on her hips. She couldn't believe he was here. This was such a massive clusterfuck that it was giving her a migraine. "Why did you come here, Danny?" Her voice was calm now, sadder, if anything.
"I had to see her," Danny said lamely.
"So you keep saying," Katie cut in.
"I understand that, but you must understand why that isn't possible." Carol felt cruel when she said the words, but he needed to understand.
"You make everything worse by coming back." Danny was about to interrupt her, but she held out her hand to silence him.
"You make everything worse — for her!" At that, he deflated slightly.
"I get it," he finally said, "But there is something strange about this stalker, I know it."
"Please, not this again." Katie sighed, she stood by the window, peering outside.
"When did you last sleep?" Carol asked concernedly.
"I… That's not impor… She isn't safe." Danny blurted, his eyes red and his hands shaking.
Carol exchanged looks with Katie, "We should take him home," she said, looking imploringly at Katie.
"We can't leave, not now." Katie shook her head slightly.
"We can't let him go," Carol said, pointing at Danny.
"Hey! I won't listen to this bullshit anymo…" But Katie shushed at him loudly.
"Someone's coming!" The door opened, and Margaret bustled inside like only she could do.
"So it's true," she said as if they had all just been talking.
"Huh?" Katie turned to stare at the strange red-haired woman.
"I heard there had been a commotion at the bullpen, and someone said Danny Concannon was drunk." She looked at Danny as if to verify whether it was true.
"I'm not drunk," Danny bellowed.
"Will you stop," Katie hissed at him.
"Margaret, we will take care of this," Carol said, "You don't need to worry."
"What happened?" Margaret asked, and Carol could sense danger. It would be just like Margaret to call Leo to inform him about all of this.
"Danny just heard about C.J., and was concerned about her well-being," Carol explained.
"I see," Margaret replied.
"As I said, there is no need for concern," Carol continued, but Margaret continued speaking as if she hadn't heard from Carol.
"You don't have to worry anymore," she said to Danny, with a small smile. "They caught the stalker."
"What?" Carol, Katie, and Danny all said at the same time.
"I'm not supposed to know, but the call came just when the plane was about to leave, so I had to stay on the line to see if the call was connected." She looked between all of them, before adding, "It's not like I tried to hear it!"
"They caught the guy?" Danny asked skeptically.
"Yup," Margaret replied cheerfully. "A photographer from Phoenix, apparently."
"That doesn't make sense," Danny muttered.
"See, now you can go home and relax," Katie said consolingly. "Go, sleep!"
But to all of their surprise, Danny made a beeline for the door of the office, looking half-deranged.
"It's not right," he said, trying to open the door.
"Stop him," Carol yelled, and Katie bound forward and held him tight. But he was too strong and pulled himself free. At that, both Carol and Margaret moved and pulled him back.
"Should we tie him up?" Margaret asked, sounding a little too excited at the idea.
C.J. stood outside the Booth Theatre. She felt good, and she looked good. She felt as if something new and exciting was just around the corner. Perhaps this was something with the change of the season or hell; maybe it was just time for something good to happen to her. She clutched her shawl around her and walked towards the group of reporters. She always liked it when they were in a new setting, and everyone dressed nicely. C.J. still remembered when she first saw Danny in a tux. It had been at a fundraiser gala in Iowa, and he had looked so damned cute with his hair ruffled and his bowtie crooked… Damnit! No, she wasn't going to do this. He wasn't worth it. She pushed his image away from her mind, trying her best to stop wondering why he had been at the White House earlier.
She was making small talk and joking with a few reporters when she heard someone close a car door harshly. At the same time, Simon appeared and pulled her unceremoniously away. She couldn't believe him.
I asked you to wait with an agent.
I wanted to get some air.
That's fine, but I asked you to wait with an agent.
Simon...
You can say to the agent, "I'd like to go outside and get some air," and he'll go with you.
I'm standing in the middle of the President's security detail. What do you think's gonna happen to me?
I don't know what's gonna happen to you. If I did, this would be easy!
Maybe if we didn't shout so much.
I have spent my adult life protecting people. You're the first person who's got me seriously thinking about switching sides.
Oh, I'm sorry you feel that way. I think I've been a treat.
Oh, yes, you have. A little Easter treat. Just for me.
You seem a little riled.
Simon closed his eyes for a moment, clearly trying to reign in his frustration, "You make me riled up, C.J. By God, everything that I've been doing has been to try and protect you, but you make it so hard. You make me mad!" He was talking loudly, but his rant was stopped short by his phone. He answered at once.
"Donovan." His greeting was harsh. He listened intently at the other line, mumbling every now and then "Yes", and "I understand. Finally, his eyebrows raised, and he looked at C.J. as he ended the call. "No, of course. Sir. I will inform her. Thank you."
"What is it?" she asked.
"They caught the guy," he replied simply.
"What guy?"
"They caught your stalker," Simon said, staring her in the eyes, "It's over."
"It's over?" She didn't dare believe it.
"It is," he said simply.
"Thank you." C.J. felt the relief flood over her, the knot in her stomach tightening.
"You're welcome." His eyes were hooded, and she found herself walking closer to him, almost like she was in a trance. She reached even closer and kiss him on the cheek, ever so softly. They hesitated for a moment, but when C.J. moved slightly, he turned his head and kissed her with such ferocity that he lifted her off of the ground. His hands slid around her waist, and he held her tightly. She gasped but held his strong shoulders, pulling him towards her. She had never felt such power, longing, and hunger in one kiss. Her centre burned with desire, but then a car horn sounded nearby, and she was pulled back to earth.
She broke the kiss and gave a small giggle. Her heart was beating fast, and his presence, his ever-present presence was clouding her mind. They had finally kissed, and what a kiss it had been, and she was finally free.
"I will see you after the show," she said with a sultry voice as she still stood close to him.
"I need to go," she said breathlessly. Never in her life had she wanted to skip a work event like now. "See you after the show?"
"Yeah," he breathed, and he grabbed her in another kiss as she made to turn away from him. This time the kiss was softer, but he held her so tightly it almost hurt. The kiss ended, and he stared intently in her eyes, and she felt weak in the knees.
"I better," she said stupidly as she gestured vaguely back with her hand.
"See you soon," he said confidently as he reluctantly let go of her.
They parted, and C.J. ambled back towards the theatre entrance, looking at him one last time before she turned the corner.
As she turned, she almost walked into Sam.
"Hey, C.J.!" Sam exclaimed happily as he grabbed her so she wouldn't fall down.
"What, oh hey Sam," C.J. replied, and she laughed as she put her hand on his shoulder to gather her balance.
"I think the show's starting," he said, and he offered her his arm. She smiled at him, still thinking of Simon, and took his arm, and together they walked into the theatre.
Ron thanked the heavens that this seemingly endless show was finally over. Being out here put enormous strain on his guys, and he couldn't shake this feeling that he ought to have realised something. It was driving him mad. He just wanted to get the president away from here. He tried to reason that it was probably just the chaos and stress of the new location that was getting to him, although that usually didn't happen… His people were securing the perimeter, and he walked down the magnificent stairs leading to the entrance. He knew that the president would take his time leaving the building, as he always did. In these kinds of situations, he was in his element, and with the re-election coming up, he wouldn't miss a chance to charm and disarm. He nodded to a few of the senior staff as they made their way downstairs. C.J. was hovering nearby the president, seemingly avoiding to look in his direction.
Ron walked outside and nodded the agents stationed outside. The area was filled with people; he acknowledged grudgingly. The press clamored at the front, secret service, broadcasting trucks, and a crowd of civilians. He wondered if he'd be able to convince the president that he should take the back exit. Doubtful, he bemused. One of his agents said that the president seemed to be getting ready to say goodbye to the archbishop; it was time to move. As he made to turn back inside, he noticed something in his peripheral vision. He changed direction and walked towards one of the large, black SUV's, but as soon as he approached it, a loud bang reverberated all around.
At once, total chaos and panic ensued. People began running in all directions, screaming in confusion. Ron ran towards the theatre, yelling into his radio to get to Eagle; to secure Eagle and to lock-down the theatre, when suddenly everything went black.
tbc.