III

"I think the rain's getting worse," her passenger observed.

"You should be a meteorologist," Abbey told him, rolling her eyes. The storm wasn't just getting heavier, it was getting darker out there, and it was increasingly difficult to see the edges of the road. For all that her companion seemed convinced that she'd put her life in her hands by picking him up, she was glad she wasn't alone out here.

Truth to tell, his concern was quite sweet, really. She honestly hadn't even thought about any possible danger - the same humanitarian instinct that drove her to want to be a doctor had insisted that anybody crazy enough to be out in this weather deserved any help she could give.

Little guys with wide, innocent blue eyes who worked in bookstores couldn't be that dangerous, right? Besides, Abbey had never been a weak little thing or a shrinking violet. Her parents had raised her to be bold, confident and trust her instincts, and her instincts had said to offer the guy a ride home.

Although it looked like she might have to renege on part of that offer.

"This is my turnoff," she nodded towards it. "I'm sorry, it doesn't look like I'll be able to take you the rest of the way into town. It's way too wet out there to keep driving."

"Hey, that's okay," he insisted quickly. Bookshop boy - aka Mr. Jed Bartlet - she'd quickly discovered was the apologetic sort. He was so determined not to be any trouble she was tempted to smack him.

"Here we go." They pulled up outside her house, and Jed quickly scrambled out. The torrential rain immediately flattened his hair to his scalp.

"I can walk from here," he insisted, raising his voice over the rain.

Abbey stared at him in disbelief as huge globules of water melted through her own hair. "Are you crazy?" she shouted.

"What?"

She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him towards the house.

"You can't walk in that!" she yelled close to his ear as they sheltered by the front door. She scrabbled for her key.

"I-"

"For God's sake, come in." She yanked the front door open and pulled him through it. They both stumbled into the hall, shedding water. "Hello?" Abbey called. No answer. "I guess they're still out."

The look of panic that crossed his face was almost hysterically funny. "I can't- I can't just come in here while your parents are out and just- You don't even know me!"

"Jed." She grabbed him by the shoulders, perhaps to stop him actually running away, and looked him sternly in the eye. "You are wet. You are cold. If you go back out there into that storm, you're probably going to end up with pneumonia. Now. You're going to stay here, I'll put the heater on, and you can sit in front of it until the rain lets up a bit and then I'll drive you home. Okay?"

He held her gaze for a long beat, and then reluctantly grinned. "You really are going to be a doctor, aren't you?"

She smiled back. "Come on. I'll fix you some coffee or something, and- God, you really are wet there, aren't you? I tell you what. You can borrow one of my brother's sweatshirts. You seriously need to get out of that shirt."

Jed shook his head. "Oh, no, I couldn't-"

"He's away at college, he won't miss it," Abbey cut him off quickly. "Come with me. His room's just up here."

Jed smiled helplessly and trailed after her. "Anybody ever tell you you're kind of bossy?"

She folded her arms. "Yeah, you want to make something of it?"

"No, ma'am," he grinned at her.

"So you live down in South Bend?" Abbey's voice floated through from the next room as he searched somewhat uncomfortably through her brother's clothes for something that might fit. Apparently Matthew Barrington was a good deal broader about the shoulders than he was; most of these jerseys would swamp him.

"Uh, I rent a place with two other guys," he called back. "I'm at Notre Dame." Ah, there, a faded grey sweatshirt in the bottom of the drawer that its owner had probably grown out of. That made him feel considerably less discomfited by the thought of briefly borrowing it.

"Oh, right. What are you studying?"

"Theology," he replied, voice muffled as he pulled his soaked undershirt over his head.

"What was that?" Abbey appeared in the doorway, and Jed flushed crimson, caught with the sweatshirt held in front of his bare chest. "Sorry!" She held up her hands in apology and turned away, but he saw her smile slightly to herself as she did it.

Jed tugged the sweatshirt swiftly over his head and tried to pretend his cheeks weren't dusted with the pink of embarrassment. Flashing his skinny, I-lived-all-my-life-in-New-Hampshire pale chest at random girls wasn't something he was in the habit of doing.

"What was that you said you were studying?" she rescued him, still looking out into the hallway.

He came out to join her. "Uh, theology." I'm going to be a priest.

Funny how that second bit didn't make it out loud.

"Oh."

Most people said 'oh' when he told them what he was doing at college. Aside from his father, who'd had some altogether more choice words for it, and some stinging blows to season them. Was it so strange, to want to study theology? To know, even as young as he was, that you wanted to dedicate your life to God?

Abbey leaned towards the window, and flicked back the corner of the curtain. "Still raining."

"Really?" he said dryly. She smiled at him.

"Come on. I'll make some coffee and we can listen to the radio or something until it lets up a bit."

Abbey watched him out of the corner of her eye, smiling to herself. Sitting on the floor of her parents' front room with his head resting back against the couch, he was supposedly listening to the soft drone of the radio, but she could see he was falling asleep.

Jed had insisted, with a quite ridiculous level of enthusiasm, that they listen to some political speech or other that was going on - and had then proceeded to babble right over it, adding his own commentary, going off at tangents, and occasionally sharply contradicting what was said.

Surprisingly, he was interesting to listen to. His droll sense of humour and the twinkle in his eye livened up the less-than-thrilling points he found so vitally important, and she found it was a refreshing change from the other people her age who only seemed to want to talk about sports or fashion or who'd been seen holding hands with who last weekend.

When the speech had turned to healthcare she'd told him about her desire to go to medical school, and he'd listened. Most people didn't listen; they'd say "Wow, I wish I was smart enough to do that" or - if they were guys - congratulate her in that condescending way that said "Aww, aren't you a good girl, playing at doing a proper job", but none of them actually wanted to hear about it.

Except for Ron, of course. He loved to show off his smart girlfriend to everyone he knew, and he was proud of her big dreams, but Abbey didn't like to talk to him about it too much because she knew he found the medical stuff boring and difficult to follow. So she didn't bore him with medical school and he didn't bore her with football, and they were both happy.

But still, it was good to talk to somebody who was actually genuinely interested. She caught herself several times at the point when Ron's gaze would be beginning to wander, but Jed was attentive, asking her questions, intrigued by every little detail. He seemed to have some insatiable thirst to know everything there was to know about everything.

They talked for a long time, while the storm hammered on. Abbey glanced at the rain-sprayed window now, and saw that it was no better. She could shake him awake, but why bother? She was beginning to feel a little dozy herself, and she knew she wouldn't be safe on the roads until the visibility was better.

The rain and the radio were soothing together. She watched Jed slump ever-so-slowly forward, unable to suppress a smile of amusement. He was very cute, in a bright-eyed, over-animated way, like a young boy shoved into the body of an adolescent to gaze at the world in wide-eyed wonder. She wondered if perhaps it hadn't been that almost child-like nature that had prompted her to trust him when he was hitching in the rain; somebody with such an angelically open smile surely couldn't be hiding any menace underneath.

Jed was a genuinely nice, sweet guy. What were the odds on meeting one of those, just by random chance?

While she was still musing on that, she fell asleep.

Daniel Barrington nodded to himself in quiet satisfaction as he saw the pick-up parked by the side of the house. He thought the gesture had gone unnoticed, but Mary gave him a sharp look.

"Daniel," she said, with a warning smile.

"What?" he said innocently.

"She's your daughter, don't you trust her?"

"Of course I do. Abigail's a very sensible girl. But I know what teenage boys are like with their girlfriends."

"So I recall... I was the girlfriend." His wife smiled playfully at him, and he smiled back and took her hand.

They entered the house together. "Abbey?" he called, raising his voice slightly. He stopped abruptly as he walked into the front room.

Abbey was just sitting up, hair mussed, as if she'd been asleep. Pushing himself up into a startled sitting position across the room was a youth he'd never seen before.

Abbey's eyes widened as she registered his presence. "Dad!"

Daniel narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "Abigail? What on earth is going on here?"