"She wondered whether all marriages started out this way. Whether this initial stress and adjustment, push and pull and tremors and shakes were common to all relationships. Maybe the fact that they had started off as a long-distance couple had shielded them from the pressures that normal couples in the same city went through. She wondered why all those relatives who had sat on her head asking her to get married had never mentioned this particular phase." ― Shweta Ganesh Kumar, A Newlywed's Adventures in Married Land

February 1968 - London, Chelsea House

Jed furiously fumbled in his coat pocket for the set of keys that unlocked the entrance to the apartment block. He cursed under his breath more times than he cared to repent for until he finally reached the key collection. He bypassed the elevator and bound up the parallel set of stairs, in the hopes that he would be able to work off the sour mood his afternoon had dealt him. Thirty-five floors and beyond, the physical exertion had done very little to calm him. He had practically sprinted home and abided the intolerable rush-hour of the U.K. public transport system. A mass of heavy atmosphere had smothered him and his chest had clamped down, hard. He battled for a breath of fresh air in the stuffy London tube and quietly bemoaned the vertical position he was forced to remain in, until he finally reached the South Kensington stop.

As he neared the 43rd floor of the block, Jed became somewhat appeased by the comfort of home. It was a sight for sore eyes, as the British liked to declare. He burst into the one-bedroom apartment he and Abbey leased, and the vision that welcomed him offered considerable improvement to his mood. The fiery voice of Etta James and relentless base of her upbeat 1960 classic reverberated around the kitchenette, while his wife danced to the carnal tune dressed only in a crisp, white shirt.

"Welcome home, Mr. Bartlet."

The provocative picture of Abbey in his clothes delivered Jed to hedonistic bliss. He tossed his briefcase aside and accelerated his wife into the nearest wall. His mouth devoured hers with a ruthlessness like never before and Abbey writhed in what could only be described as a pleasurable kind of pain. Jed finally released the kiss but his body still heaved adjacent to hers. His physical tension was palpable and Abbey revelled in the shadow of his ferocious outburst. There was a wildness about his temper that electrified her. Her prayers were answered, when Jed forcefully hauled her in the direction of their bedroom and continued to exercise every one of his demons.

Nearly an hour later, Jed receded to his side of the bed and reached for the pack of Marlboro on the bedside table. Abbey allowed him several, peaceful puffs of the smoke before she shuffled out of the bed and slipped into an informal, black pantsuit she had worn earlier that afternoon. She collected Jed's newly crumpled, white shirt he had ravenously ripped from her body. It was certainly the most predatory her husband had been. "Do you want to talk about what has you so hot under the collar?"

Jed exhaled, heavily. Clearly, Abbey was the only one impressed with her wisecrack. His acidic disposition threatened to rebound and he stubbed out the butt-end, only to reach for a second. The day had been a disaster and potentially the end of his academic success as a scholar in the economic field. "Parsons read my paper."

"The one on far east trade barriers?" Abbey clarified, as she returned to the kitchen.

"Yeah." At the time he had written it, Jed had been determined to dispense a critical standpoint on the issue that was heavily debated. It wasn't remotely reflective of the other papers he had written in pursuit of his doctorate at the school. In fact, Abbey's presence in London had provided Jed with a burst of motivation for some of the best research he had ever produced. Except, his professors weren't quite as impressed. They felt Jed had taken a stride too far and all but denounced his work.

"What, he didn't like it?" She quizzed, as she retrieved the meatloaf of questionable edibility from the oven.

Jed redressed himself into his favoured navy Notre Dame sweatshirt and comfortable pants to match, then sombrely entered the mainstay of the apartment that overlooked the River Thames and metropolitan horizon of the capital. "He wants me dismissed from the school, effective immediately." Downcast at the prospect of five wasted years, Jed slumped onto the sofa and reaped little consolation from the warmth of tobacco in his chest. "He thinks the concept of the paper could harm the school's reputation."

Abbey's lips curled, in contemplation. She hadn't read the paper personally but she had been a first-hand witness to his tireless effort, the hours he had submitted to complete a notion he was truly proud of. "Surely, he can't have you thrown out because he doesn't like what you've written." He rolled his shoulders, in a show of indifference but it was a transparent act. "Talk to the dean about it."

"It's useless, Abbey. Parsons wants me thrown out. We may as well catch the next red-eye to JFK."

"Don't be so melodramatic, Jed. One professor cannot have you dismissed from a school you've attended for five years over one lousy paper." She overlooked the odd possibility that Jed would be disqualified from the doctorate qualification he had worked so hard for and focused on what was positive. "Besides, you only have a few months left. Before you know it, you and I will be back home. Dr. and Dr. Bartlet," she wandered over to her husband, hands on his shoulders to relieve what tension remained. When she kissed him, Abbey whispered, "And you know what a turn-on that is for me." The embrace did little to heal his sullen outlook and Abbey licked her bottom lip, to rid the flavour of nicotine he had transferred. "That, on the other hand, is a turn off." She removed the addictive tool from his hand. It wasn't the first time she had chewed him out for it.

While she returned her attention to the oven, Jed noticed for the first time the mess she had created in the kitchen. He perched himself on one of the bar stools near the kitchen island and inspected the dish she had retrieved. "You cooked."

Abbey scowled, "Don't look so surprised." The unhealthy habits Jed had developed with food was a major concern for Abbey. She wasn't sure he had enjoyed one proper meal, while he lived the life of a bachelor in London. His diet was a mixture of local take-out, and peanut butter-jelly sandwiches. "I didn't have any plans today, so I decided to try out a meatloaf recipe." She removed the oven protector from her hand and frowned, disillusioned with the end result. The oh-so-simple recipe had been much more strenuous than Abbey anticipated.

"I don't have an appetite."

"Jed," Abbey wailed. He snatched a chilled bottle of Guinness and sloped off into the en-suite. She softly exhaled, at the slam of the door and she overheard the blast of the shower between the thin wall. She almost tempted herself to join him, but decided instead to allow him the time to cool off. It was an odd idiosyncrasy of his that Abbey had discovered. In one moment, he needed her; quicker than the next, he shut her out. It was the only complaint she could make as Mrs. Jed Bartlet, and she suspected it was much to do with the way he was raised. As much as she adored her in-laws, especially Jed's mother, their family of four was an odd equation. Even after six months, Abbey wasn't entirely sure of the family she had married into.

By the time Jed reappeared, Abbey had dumped the unwanted meatloaf in the trash can. His demure mood had transferred over to her, and she was sat on the sofa, her knees curled up to her chest. "I'm sorry, Abbey."

His hair was still damp and only a towel was wrapped around his waist. "It's okay." She had the resilience to weather his temper.

"I was just so damn upset, I -" Jed stood awkwardly behind her.

"I understand." Abbey offered a morsel of comfort. How passionate her husband was and how driven his ambition made him was what sparked a physical attraction into an emotional one. "But you need to understand, we're a team. We're on the same side, Jed. When you succeed, so do I and vice versa." He nodded his head and marvelled at her wisdom. She was his intellectual equal, his partner in every sense of the word. With her by his side, there was very little Jed didn't think he could achieve. If only one of them had an ounce of culinary skill, they could rule the world.