III

"Hey." Jed smiled into the phone, for all that Abbey couldn't see him. "How's California?"

"Colder than you'd think right now," she admitted.

"Ha. You need a true New England man to keep you warm at night," he told her.

He didn't have to wait for her to speak to recognise the teasing smirk she would be wearing. "I'll have to ask the Secret Service if they have any on supply." She chuckled at his indignant grumble, then changed gears. "How's your chest?"

He rolled his eyes. "Exactly as fine as it was when you left, and you know it was fine because you insisted on listening to it."

"You need to wrap up warm," she continued briskly, ignoring him. "Wear a scarf if you go outside."

"I'll look like a complete goofball," Jed complained half-heartedly.

"And you really think leaving off the scarf is gonna solve that?"

"Hey," he protested, without rancour. It was comforting to hear her laugh.

"Seriously, hon, I know you're feeling better, but don't go tempting fate. Either wrap up warm, or stay indoors."

"I'll stay indoors," he conceded petulantly.

"There's a good boy."

He snorted. "Why thank you, do I get a cookie?"

"Not unless it's oatmeal and raisin," she said, and he made a face in distaste. His strict new health regimen had been loosened a little, but not nearly enough for his liking, and only because he'd ended up losing a little more weight than Abbey was comfortable with. Never mind the cigarettes, there were days when he'd kill for a slice of cheese.

"Stop fantasizing about food," she ordered him.

He grinned, and lowered his voice seductively. "Well... what would you suggest I fantasize about, then?"

Abbey snickered, but refused to indulge him. "Get back to work."

"Killjoy," he accused.

He glanced up as the door across from him eased open. "Mr. President-? Sorry." Charlie made to back out, but Jed tilted the phone down and nodded towards him. "CJ," he mouthed.

"Send her in," Jed acknowledged. "I have to go now," he said into the receiver.

"Okay, babe." Abbey's voice grew momentarily fainter, and he guessed she was juggling too many things at once on her end, too. "I'll see you soon."

"Not soon enough," he sighed.

"Killjoy," she shot back at him. Her voice softened. "Call me tonight?"

"I will. Bye, sweetheart."

"Have a good day, honey."

"I'll try."

CJ hovered awkwardly as he put the phone down, and he gestured her over. "Hi, CJ. What's up?"

She came over to join him. "Well, I-" She hesitated and glanced at him oddly. "Sir, somehow I hate to ask this, but are you aware there's a cat trying to crawl into your pocket?"

He looked down, and retrieved the kitten that had been stealthily sneaking up on his suit jacket. "He likes to try and creep up on me," Jed explained, absently scratching the little beast under the chin until haughty disdain gave way to satisfied rumbling. "He gets more fun out of it if he thinks I haven't noticed him. It's good for his self-esteem."

CJ blinked. "Okay, but I have to disclose that I'm beginning to second guess all those months I spent on the record defending your mental health."

"You and me both. What's going on?"

Reluctantly she grew more serious. "There was a shooting in Lubbock County, Texas last night that's likely to come on to your radar. A thirteen-year-old girl shot two intruders." He winced in dismay, but there was more to come. "They were both boys in their teens; John Rossiter, fifteen, who died on the scene, and David Calgary, fourteen, still in critical condition."

He digested that, and heaved a deep sigh. "How did this happen?" he asked, mostly rhetorically.

CJ sadly shook her head. "I really couldn't say, sir."

He nodded slowly, and petted the oblivious cat in his lap. "Keep me updated if anything-"

"Yes, sir." She beat a tactful retreat, and left him alone with his solemn thoughts.

"Hi." Josh spared a smile for the anxious young man hovering in the lobby, sipping from his coffee cup as he waved an acknowledgement to the security guy a few feet away. "You got all those forms back to Donna?"

"Yeah." Ash shifted uncomfortably, obviously ill at ease in his impressive surroundings. "I don't think I filled out this much paperwork when I was applying to college."

Josh glanced at the file in his hands as they started walking. "Well, your background check didn't turn up anything worrying... You protested new dress code restrictions in high school? Cute."

Ash's eyebrows shot up in alarm. "That's in my file?"

"You'd be amazed." He smiled. "What was it, two guys with placards outside the general office?"

"Uh, seventeen guys, actually. We bribed the football team with Twinkies."

"Resourcefulness. I like that." He held the door for his companion, and then spotted a familiar face a way down the corridor. "Charlie! Hey," he called.

Charlie came jogging up, flashing his teeth in a quick smile. "Hey, Josh." His gaze raked over Ash curiously. Josh gestured with his coffee cup.

"Ash, Charlie. Charlie, this is Ashley Bowers."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," Ash said earnestly as they shook hands, to Charlie's visible amusement.

"You don't have to call me sir," he grinned. "We call the president sir."

"Everybody else, we just call names," Josh said, taking the opportunity for a quick slurp of coffee. Could it really have been four years since he'd been giving this same introductory spiel to Charlie himself?

Charlie turned to him. "Listen, is it possible we can get a different interpreter for this thing Friday afternoon?"

Josh frowned. "Why, what was wrong with the other guy?"

He grimaced. "Nothing, except that the last time he was here the president found out he was a massive opera buff, and as you can imagine-"

"Ouch," Josh commiserated, with feeling.

Ash looked lost. "The president doesn't like opera?"

"Oh, no, the president loves opera," Charlie explained. "Especially, he loves to sing opera-"

"Although opinion is divided over whether you can call it 'singing'," Josh put in.

"-Mostly divided along the lines of those who've heard it and those who haven't. And believe me, once he starts in, the members of the second group are few and far between." Charlie's expression grew slightly glazed with not-so-happy memory. "Then comes the half-hour pop quiz on great moments in the world of opera, famous divas, composers of the eighteenth century..."

"With accompanying lecture on the importance of absorbing culture," Josh recalled with a groan.

"Last time the guy came around, I ended up with assigned reading."

"The president makes you read up on opera?" Ash wondered incredulously.

"Opera, tax accountancy, the Visigoths... He likes to educate people," Charlie shrugged.

"Frequently, against their will." They reached the meeting room, and Josh stuck his head in to make sure it was empty. "Okay, we'll be in here. Go right in, I won't be a second."

Ash entered, looking suddenly a whole lot more apprehensive.

Josh shot Charlie an enquiring look. "Opera stories?" he wondered.

The personal aide smirked. "Hey, this guy's going to be doing half my job - I'm not allowed to have a little fun with him first?"