Author: Sirius
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: See Part I
Pairings: Willow/Will, Charlie/Zoey
Chapter Summary: Enter Jean-Paul.
From Part III: "What's next? Finding out that the new Deputy Communications Director is secretly a Druid?"
Part IV:
Charlie was snickering softly as Riley's last few words drifted to them, and the President draped a fatherly arm around Willow's shoulders and motioned her back to her former seat on the couch. Willow, while appreciating the gesture, was somewhat confused.
"So, Willow, tell me," Bartlet started to say, and Willow could almost see Charlie face pale a shade at a time. The look in his eyes was definitely not good.
"Why exactly are you taking such as interest in my young assistant, here, and what kind of plotting is going on here? I know the two of you are planning something, so tell." Willow suddenly felt as if she was in the middle of a large, bare room with a bright light shining in her face. `Whoa, flashback to old police movies much, Wills?'
"Sir, how do you…"
"Willow, Willow, didn't Charlie tell you? I'm the President; I know everything."
The giggle escaped before she could stop it. She tried, really she did. Charlie had been right about one thing. This man was the Real Thing. Willow glanced at Charlie and he nodded. "He doesn't like him any more than I do, Wills."
"OK, I was going to drag him somewhere, shove some food down his throat – possibly of the pizza variety – and we were going to discuss OFP."
"OFP? I'm not familiar with that acronym. OFM is an order of Franciscan friars, but I'm fairly certain I like them."
Willow tried to stop it, but once again the giggle escaped. Charlie just smirked. "I thought you knew everything, sir?"
"Shut up, Charlie, before I have Ron come in here and kick your ass."
"Yes, sir," Charlie replied – with a perfect poker face.
"Smart ass."
"Yes, Mr. President."
Bartlet turned again to Willow. "Ignoring Mr. Young over there for a moment, OFP would be…"
"Operation Frog Prince, Mr. President."
"Ah, then it has something to do with that poncy Frenchman my daughter's dating."
"Yes, sir."
Bartlet leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his hands together. For a moment, he looked all of – maybe – five, as his eyes brightened and his face was split by a grin. "Good."
"Charlie wasn't kidding when he said you didn't like him, was he?"
"No, Willow, he was not. I was… speaking… with him here one day. The Senior Staff came in and Josh said they would leave if I wanted more time to… bond… with Jean-Paul. I told Josh that if he left I'd kill him. I'm not completely sure that I was joking. Zoey's never done anything bad enough to deserve `him.' Let me in… what have you got?"
Willow sat in stunned silence for a moment as she watched the President approach the issue with the same sense of… something… determination, maybe… that she imagined would be present during any kind of national crisis. `Does he approach everything with this level of intensity? How does he not burn himself out? I mean, I do the bubbly, lively Willowy thing a lot but not necessarily with the intense, never-shuts-off focus thingy going on… and I'm thinking in a ramble. Brain, shut up.'
"Willow?"
"Sorry, Mr. President. I was distracted for a second. We actually don't have anything right now. I haven't been here long enough, and I sorta want to meet Jean-Paul first so I can get my own idea of what he's like… not that I don't trust your opinions, but… ARGHH. Must stop eating the foot."
Bartlet laughed… truly laughed.. and then set about reassuring her. "It's alright, Willow. I know what you meant. And I'll try to…"
There was a knock on the door, as one of the ever-vigilant Service agents (who saw everything but… if asked… knew nothing) alerted them to the fact that someone was approaching the office. Actually, as it turned out, it was three someones… Zoey and Jean-Paul, being trailed by Will.
Willow focused first on the young speech-writer, noting the curious look on his face, and the folder in his hand… held loosely, as if forgotten. Her eyes then switched to the man she presumed to be Jean-Paul. She found herself the focus of an intense glare, and saw something in his eyes that made her shiver. She didn't even hear the conversation between the President and his daughter, and didn't actually absorb any of it until the young couple turned to leave the room. Willow realized that the President had agreed to head up to the Residence in a few minutes.
The door had barely closed behind the two when Will's eyes met Willow's and they said, in unison, "He's not normal."
TBC…
