IV

The strange boy scrambled swiftly to his feet. "Sir, I-"

"I think you'd better wait in my study, son," Daniel said coldly. Mary grasped his arm in warning.

"Daniel."

"I'd like to talk to my daughter alone for a moment," was all he said.

"Yes, sir," the boy nodded quickly and nervously, and headed towards the study. Well, at least he had good manners. Which was something he always looked for in strange teenage boys found sleeping in an empty house with his daughter.

Daniel turned a sternly confused gaze on said daughter. "Abigail?"

He wasn't sure whether to admire or be frustrated by the way she'd recovered her poise. "Hi, dad. That's Jed. I was gonna give him a ride home, but the rain got too bad so we stopped here, and..." she looked embarrassed- "I guess we kind of fell asleep."

Of course, he hadn't expected any less innocent a story than that, but still... He wasn't sure it was Abigail's part in this he was worried about. "A ride home from where?"

"I drove past him. He was trying to hitchhike in the rain."

Beside him, Mary sucked in a dismayed breath to match his own jolted heart. "Oh, Abigail," she said, shaking her head.

"Abigail Anne Barrington, you picked up a hitchhiker on the road at night?" he demanded, feeling his voice beginning to thunder despite his personal pact not to shout at his children as his own father had always done.

"I know him!" she said, defensively enough that he knew she realised it was dangerously stupid. "His name's Jed Bartlet, he works at the bookstore down in South Bend."

"His name's Jed Bartlet, and he works in the bookstore," Daniel echoed. "Fascinating, I'm sure, but exactly which part of your highly detailed knowledge of this boy persuaded you that it was safe to let him into your vehicle when you were driving alone at night?"

"That's exactly what he said," Abbey said wryly. He questioned her with an eyebrow. "He told me I was an idiot for stopping to pick him up, and that he was only getting in the truck in case I stopped for anybody else and they really were a psychopath. Dad," she pleaded for his understanding. "I'm not- I wouldn't have let just anybody in. But I've met him, he's a nice guy, and you saw what the weather was like..."

"Abbey..." Daniel sighed, shaking his head. He never could stay angry at his daughter for long. He moved towards and squeezed her shoulder gently. "I know you're a smart, brave, and thoughtful young lady, but there are a lot of crazy people in this world, and one day that kind heart of yours is going to get you into trouble. I worry about you."

"I'm sorry, daddy," she said, beginning to look upset, and he reached down to give her a tight hug and kiss her hair.

"Well, there wasn't any harm done tonight, but I think I'd like to have a few words with this Jed character myself."

"Dad... please don't get mad at him," she urged worriedly. "He really didn't push his way in or anything, he was gonna try and walk home in the middle of the storm until I made him come in and get dry."

Knowing his daughter, that was probably nothing less than the truth. She really was far too compassionate for her own good.

As he turned towards the study, Mary gave him a look, which he deflected with a neutral gaze. "I just want to talk to the boy," he insisted defensively.

Jed fiddled nervously with the chess pieces arrayed on Dr. Barrington's desk. He hoped he hadn't got Abbey into serious trouble. He knew he never should have let her talk him into coming inside.

It had been nice, though, just to sit and talk. Abbey... got him. He wasn't sure if he'd ever met anybody who got him like that before, except for maybe Mrs. Landingham. She seemed to understand the way he felt about things, the sense he had of... of being plugged into a great big, wider world, being a part of something enormous. Most of the people he talked to, they only thought about small things, about everyday things. But when Abbey had talked about going to medical school, he'd seen an echo of the feeling he had, what he'd always thought was some kind of spiritual call to the priesthood.

He hadn't realised there were other people out there who dreamed the way that he did.

He wished Abbey's father had sent him to wait somewhere else. This study felt and smelt too much like his own father's office back home, where he'd stood with his head bowed and waited for approval - and never received it.

The familiarity of chess pieces calmed his nerves, and he worked through sequences of moves as he stood by the desk, losing himself in the intricacies of the one-sided game until he could forget why he was waiting.

He was reaching for a knight, and knocked it over as he was startled by a throat being cleared behind him.

"So... Jed Bartlet, my daughter said your name is?" Dr. Barrington gazed at him sternly.

"Uh, yes sir," he answered quickly, hurriedly resetting the chess piece on the board.

The doctor's expression remained stormily imposing. "And what, pray tell, did you think you were doing getting into a car with my daughter in the middle of the night?"

Jed's face burned with the flame of a guilty conscience, and he looked down at the floor awkwardly. "I'm sorry, sir, I- I was trying to hitch a ride, I didn't expect- She offered me a ride, and I guess I was worried she might stop for somebody else, and they might be-"

Amazingly, Abbey's father gave him a wisp of a smile. "Yes, I'm quite familiar with my daughter's altruistic streak." His face hardened again. "What were you doing out on the roads in this kind of weather?"

"Uh, I was at a party and I was trying to get home. My friends drove me there, but they were, um, they had a bit to drink and so I decided to try and hitch a ride instead."

"Have you been drinking?"

The question startled him, though it probably shouldn't have. "N-no, sir," he stuttered. "Sir, I don't drink."

"Sensible of you." Dr. Barrington nodded to himself, and then broke into a slight smile. "Relax, son, I believe you. Abbey's a smart girl, and if she says that you're not trouble then I trust her judgement." Jed decided not to mention that said judgement, while undoubtedly sound, was considerably more of a split-second thing than her father probably realised. "If anybody behaved rashly and foolishly tonight, it wasn't you."

"Oh, sir, I wouldn't-"

Dr. Barrington rolled his eyes. "You can stop apologising for my daughter now, Jed."

He barely managed to choke off the automatic 'sorry, sir'.

The doctor nodded down at the chessboard. "You play chess?"

"Uh, yes, sir, a little. I don't play against other people so much, but I read a lot of books."

"Well then, sit down, son, and why don't we see if that book learning has done you any good."

He wouldn't have dared to refuse if he'd wanted to.

Abbey couldn't help but smile as she hovered in the study doorway, watching Jed and her father play chess. Neither of them looked up or noticed her there; Jed's lower lip was stuck out in a pout of concentration as he contemplated his next move.

Her mother came over to stand next to her, and smiled herself. "Men and their little competitions," she said, fondly shaking her head.

"Dad seems to have taken to him," she observed.

"Well, dear, you know he's been itching for an excuse to break out that chess set ever since I refused to play against him any longer." Abbey smirked. Her father was a terrible person to play any kind of game against, alternating between smug superiority at his victory and frustration that his opponents weren't challenging him. She didn't think Jed was winning, but at least he seemed to be holding his own.

"Do you think they even know we're here?"

"I imagine they'll be like this for hours."

"We're concentrating, not deaf," said her father lightly, as he slid a bishop across the board. Jed winced and lowered his head to study the board at eye-level.

Abbey hid a smile at his intent expression; her mother didn't bother. "Would you like some cocoa there, boys?"

"Thank you, Mary."

"Yes please, Mrs. Barrington, ma'am."

Her mother's smile widened with amusement. "Abigail, where did you find this darling boy?" she asked.

"In a soggy heap by the side of the road," she supplied.

"Well, I think we're going to have to keep him."

Jed looked up, and flashed a brilliant smile. Abbey was powerless to avoid grinning right back. He held her gaze for a moment, and then turned quickly back to the chessboard. She followed her mother through into the kitchen.

"Thank you, Mrs. Barrington." Jed took the steaming mug gratefully. This chess match was taking it out of him. His brief doze in the front room had done more to make his eyes gritty and head heavy than refresh him, and Dr. Barrington was such a good chess player that it was taking all his concentration to just not be embarrassingly defeated.

A sip of cocoa provided an excuse to sit back a moment, and his eyes fell for the first time on the wall clock. He started at the time. "Oh! It's very late. I'm sorry, I should probably be leaving soon."

Mrs. Barrington smiled at him. "Oh, don't be ridiculous, Jed. It's still raining, and you'll catch your death of cold out there. I'll make up Matthew's bed for you and you can sleep here tonight."

He was startled by the offer. "Oh, no, I couldn't," he protested.

"Ah, so you'll sleep on my floor uninvited but you won't stay when we ask you to?" said Dr. Barrington mildly, effortless sliding a rook through his defences. Jed blushed, started to speak, paused to pull a face at the condition of the chessboard, and tried again.

"Really, sir, ma'am, you've been awfully nice to me, and I don't want to-"

Dr. Barrington leaned in conspiratorially. "It's no use arguing, son. Once she's made up her mind, she's made up her mind... no use arguing. That's how I ended up a married man, you know."

His wife swiped at him affectionately, and picked his cocoa-mug to carry out.

"Hey! I hadn't finished drinking that."

"And now you're not going to," she said sweetly. He shook his head, but smiled fondly at her.

It was all so very different from the way he remembered things being between his own father and mother that Jed felt a strange and unaccustomed pang. This was a family, a real one; not at all like he was used to. Despite what courtesy and good manners were telling him, he found that atmosphere of warmth and affection held an almost irresistible fascination for him. And when the Barringtons insisted on proceeding as if it was already settled that he would be staying with them, he found it impossible to argue.