XVI

Her husband was ranting and raging, pacing the length and breadth of the bedroom as she entered. He didn't look surprised as he turned and saw who had interrupted him - who else would dare walk in right now?

"What were they thinking?" he demanded hotly. "Abbey, in God's name, what were they thinking?"

"They were scared, Jed," she reminded him softly.

"They're just kids!" he fumed, throwing out a hand in anger. "They shouldn't be getting married!"

She moved in closer. "We were younger."

"And circumstances were very different." His voice grew softer as she stepped into him, flattening her hands on his shoulders. He tilted his forehead down to meet hers. "They're going to crucify him, Abbey," he said quietly. "They're going to tear him apart, and there's not a damn thing any of us can do about it."

"I know," she said, relieved to see that he still had it in him to be concerned for Charlie.

But the anger was far from spent, and a moment later he pulled away from her and stormed across the room. "I can't believe they would do this! I can't believe they would be so stupid as to do this!"

"They're young, Jed," she said, with a tired smile. "Young and in love."

"Too young!" he bellowed. He turned towards her. "She's just a little girl," he said quietly, and for a moment he looked so lost that he seemed barely more than a boy himself.

"You know that's not true," she said, though it was hard enough to feel the truth of it herself. Their children were grown, even their granddaughter was not so far away from turning eighteen. So why was it that she could still peel back the years and see Jed as a shy twenty-year-old, peering at her furtively with bluer than blue eyes behind long lashes? She could still see the boy as clearly as she did the man who'd taken his place, each a part of her life too precious to take back a single part of, good or bad.

What more could a mother wish her daughters, than that they find a second soul as she had done? Could Charlie be that to Zoey?

She thought so. She really did think so.

And she knew, underneath it all, that Jed believed it too. But Zoey was still his baby girl, and he didn't want to let her go.

Jed let all the air flow out of him in a heavy sigh, and Abbey thought he looked as tired as she'd ever seen him. She sighed herself, and moved in to touch his cheek. "Come to bed, Jed," she suggested gently.

He smiled, and kissed the palm of her hand, but didn't bother to make even a token joke about her trying to jump his bones. "I'm waiting up," he said. "For Zoey and Charlie." His face darkened, and she could see the storm-clouds under the surface. He might be still and quiet now, but if either of them entered this room any time soon, there'd be a shouting match to end all shouting matches.

And it was as much for Jed's own protection as for Charlie's or Zoey's that she couldn't let that happen. "No you're not," she told him gently.

"I want to talk to them," he said firmly, and she smiled at him wryly.

"It's not happening, honey, so get used to it. They're not coming to the White House, not tonight."

"I'm the President of the United States," he said sharply. "They'll come if I say so."

"If you talk to them now, you'll say something you'll regret."

"I won't do that in the morning?" he asked her, with a quirk of an eyebrow. She kissed his cheek, and pulled him against her into a close hug.

"I won't sleep," he murmured against her neck.

"We both will," she told him firmly, and led him over to sit down on the bed. With a resigned smile, he began loosening his tie. This battle was over, at least for tonight.

Later, however, as they lay against each other in the darkness, she found sleep not so quick to steal over them as she'd hoped. After a long moment she sat up, and looked at her husband's shape in shadow. "What did you want to talk to me about, Jed?" she finally asked.

His eyes were twin gleams in the darkness, and she was conscious the slight movement of his jaw that she didn't have to see to know for a soft smile. "It's not important," he told her.

And she accepted that, and curled up against him, though she knew from the way his voice had sounded Thursday afternoon it wasn't true.

But... not tonight. Whatever it was, it could wait.

The crowd had pretty much dispersed, but Charlie stayed, waiting for Deena - whoops, sorry, that should be 'Deanna'. Apparently the way she'd used to shorten her name was no longer cool enough or grown-up enough or something for her. She insisted that everybody call her by her full name now, sounding out all the syllables carefully instead of blurring it all together. Except when she forgot, which was quite a lot of the time.

Well, his sister might be under the impression that she was a grown-up now, but he was still her big brother, and it was still his duty to protect her. Of course, if anything actually happened, it was likely that it would be his girlfriend's Secret Service detail who ended up doing the actual protecting, but still... it was the principle of the thing.

Talking of... he glanced across to where Zoey's agents had requested she wait with them. They didn't like her being alone here in the dark although, to be fair, they'd been a long way from thrilled when she'd been here in a crowd in the dark. At least they'd let her come. He'd been afraid they wouldn't, and this was a big match for Deanna. Of course, he could have - would have - come alone if he'd had to, but it wouldn't have been the same.

He'd sworn his life away to Zoey a week ago, and he didn't regret it. He wanted her to be in all of it, to share all the things that were important to him. And this was only a basketball match, but it mattered to Deanna, and so it mattered to him.

He frowned as one of Zoey's agents leaned in to speak to her, and her face suddenly paled. With one quick glance to make sure his sister wasn't yet emerging from the building, he quickly jogged over to meet her.

"Zoey, what's wrong? Did something happen to your father?" He couldn't think what other news could be coming through the Secret Service radio, although it surely couldn't be that serious if they weren't already hustling her towards the car...

Zoey turned wide, suddenly frightened eyes on him. "Yes," she said quietly. "We did."

"We-?"

"He knows, Charlie." She clutched at the chain around her neck. "I don't know how, but... he knows. And the press know."

Charlie swallowed slowly. The president knew about their engagement. Knew that he, Charlie Young, had asked Zoey Bartlet to marry him. Knew that the two of them had decided - for reasons which had seemed so clear mere moments ago, and now seemed so hard to remember - that it would be okay provided they just didn't tell anybody. The engagement would be safe and sacred provided it was only known between the two of them.

Oops.

It must have been the rings. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It had seemed so important, so vital to the spirit of the pact they'd made. Why hadn't he got them... charm bracelets or watches or... matching lapel-pins or something? Anything, anything, that didn't have 'secret engagement' written all over it.

Zoey was looking steadily more panicked at his silence. He reached out quickly, and covered her hand with his own. "It'll be okay," he said softly. And somehow, in saying it to her, he made himself believe it.

They could do this. They could get through this.

Deanna came bounding up on her long legs, sports bag slung over her shoulder. "Hey, what's up?" She came to a halt as she saw their sober faces. "Okay, seriously. What's up?"

He exchanged a look with Zoey, and then softly squeezed his hand in hers. He turned to face his sister. "Zoey and I just got engaged."

Deanna, apparently forgetting that she was a mature and adult human being now, squealed loudly. She threw her arms around Charlie, and then did the same to Zoey. "Really? You guys, that's great! What took you so long?"

"Just stupid, I guess," Charlie shrugged. But he and Zoey both knew that this was a lot more serious than his little sister realised.

When Deanna had finished throwing herself at the two of them, he held her off and turned back to Zoey. "Does your father want to see us?"

"In the morning," she said, in tones of dread. That was a meeting neither of them were looking forward to.

Zoey was the love of his life. They were engaged, and no matter what happened or how long it took, one day he would marry her. He was ready for the disapproval, he was ready for the media barrage, he was ready for the hate-mail.

He just wasn't sure he was ready for Jed Bartlet.

They all got into Zoey's car, and the driver took them back to his and Deanna's apartment. He pushed his sister out of the door and turned back to Zoey.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"Sure," she shrugged, with false bravado. He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek.

"I love you."

"I love you too." She hesitated, and then reached for the clasp at the back of her neck. She pulled off the ring, and dangled it from its chain for a long moment. Then she tugged it free. Charlie held out his hand, and she placed it in his palm.

With a smile, he knelt down beside the car, paying no mind to what he might be kneeling in, and slid the ring onto her waiting finger. "Zoey Patricia Bartlet, will you marry me?"

"Didn't we do this already?" she giggled. Charlie gave her a loving squeeze.

"You're hopeless, you know that?" he murmured into her hair.

"Gimme!" she said, clapping her hands together, and with a snort he handed her the ring from around his own neck. She pulled a mock-serious expression. "Charles Young, will you marry me?"

He leaned back on his heels. "Well, I don't know," he pretended to deliberate.

Zoey closed her hand around the ring. "Then you're not getting your ring back," she told him smugly. He rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I'll marry you."

"Too late, you're not having it back." Charlie leaned into the car and kissed her on the lips, then grabbed for her hand. She giggled as he prised her fingers apart. "Okay, okay! Let me put it on you."

"All right." He held out his hand, and she slid the ring into place. When she looked up at him, the laughter was gone, replaced with something that made his heart tighten in his chest.

"I love you, Charlie," she said softly.

"And I love you," he answered sincerely.

"Goodnight." Reluctantly, he pulled back, and let the door close and the limousine pull away. He couldn't see through the tinted windows, but he knew she was waving furiously anyway.

He turned back towards the apartment building, and saw Deanna standing in the doorway, watching him. "Hey, what're you looking at?" he demanded with a smile.

They went inside.