Title: Flashes of a Time to Come
By: Bartlegg
Pairing: CJ/Josh , maybe others later on
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: These characters are owned by NBC, WB, John Wells Production, and were created by Aaron Sorkin
Feedback: Gladly accepted
NOTE: Special thanks to Phaser Lady for her excellent and extremely helpful beta read!
Sorry for the wait, but writer's block is a nasty thing
Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. Without you, well, it just wouldn't be quite as fun.
Chapter X
The guarded calm that was the presiding state of mind among the passengers of flight 431 out of Los Angeles was abruptly interrupted when the pilot made a grim announcement over the loudspeaker:
Due to recent events we have been ordered to land prematurely at Charleston
Regional Airport. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, and it is
My belief that a flight to Dulles will be provided in the coming hours or days.
Again, the plane is not experiencing any difficulties and this landing was
ordered due to recent circumstances. Thank you.
A tall blonde flight attendant strolled up the aisle, checking that all the passengers were prepared for the landing. As expected she encountered a particular passenger with a laptop open. With a robotically polite voice she spoke to the young gentleman, "Sir, we will be landing soon and all electronic devices need to be disabled."
The suited man looked up and was surprised to be face to face with the attractive stewardess he had been eyeing the entire flight. "May I use my cell phone?"
"Is it an emergency?"
The congressman slid his laptop under his seat. "What constitutes an emergency?"
The flight attendant rattled off the list like a dessert menu. "Signs of heart attacks, on board fires, having a baby…"
"Okay fine, I won't use the cell phone." He stuffed it into his breast pocket like the issue was over and done.
"Thank you sir." The flight attendant continued down the aisle as she made sure that the laptop was tucked underneath a chair. When she had taken a few steps, the man dialed a once familiar number into his cell phone anyway.
---
"How long have you known her again?"
"Who?"
"The alleged assailant."
"At least…at least five and a half years." Toby blinked emotionally as he continued to comprehend the recent events. The interrogation continued.
"Did she have a friendship of some kind with Carol Fitzpatrick?"
"No…not that I know of." Toby lost himself again in horrid thoughts. Who was she friends with? Who else is part of this?
"Did she have a relationship with anyone in the West Wing?" The agent reviewed his notes. So far nothing important was mentioned.
"She knew Bonnie…"
"Whose Bonnie?"
"Another assistant in the Communications bullpen."
"I see.." this was jotted down carefully.
"But Bonnie would never…" Toby stopped short. He had just caught Ginger trying to poison the press secretary. What he thought he knew about the character of his assistants meant zilch in this environment.
Suddenly Toby felt a vibration on his belt. "I'm sorry, can I answer my phone? It might-it's probably important."
The agent nodded gravely as Toby clicked open the phone. "Toby Ziegler."
A quiet static filled voice responded from a few hundred miles away. "Toby, it's Sam. Please tell me what's going on, I've been worried sick and I'll be there in a few hours…"
---
Annie glanced over at the security guard who stood next to the doorway. He hadn't seemed to move for about an hour, and he kept a watchful eye out for anything suspicious. The first lady and her offspring had been moved to an isolated room for their protection, so Annie thought it would be a perfect moment to have a talk with her mother.
"Mom…where's dad?"
Her daughter's question had caught Elizabeth unawares, and she was suddenly snapped out of her state of dazed silence. She checked that her son was asleep, and satisfied with his calm snoring figure, responded truthfully.
"I don't know, home maybe."
"Did he do that to you?" Annie pointed at her mother's eye, sparking Abby's attention across the room.
"Honey, wipe off your make-up. It's really not hiding anything." The first lady moved across the room to join her granddaughter's interrogation.
Reluctantly Elizabeth rubbed the makeup off her cheeks, revealing the bruise in its entirety. "It was just a spat…about the laundry. But don't worry, because it's going to be fine. I am not going to put my children in harms way."
"Mom, are you going to divorce dad?" Annie did not no if she was afraid of excited.
"Annie…" Elizabeth paused as she gathered her determined thoughts, "That's just the first thing I'm going to do."
The first lady put her arms around her daughter. "You can stay with us at the residence until…" She trailed off, wondering if the residence was even inhabitable at the moment.
---
"Are they even safe there? Is CJ alright?" The president spoke quickly in a shrill, unnatural voice.
Leo spoke calmly into the president's ear, placing a supportive hand on his friend's shoulder. "Sir, Josh and CJ are safe, their rooms are being guarded by agents."
"Why weren't they guarded before?" Jed's face fumed with frustration.
"It didn't seem necessary at the--typically only the first family receives…"
"Where is my wife anyway? Where's my family?" Bartlet's breath was quick and aberrant. He was aware of his unpresidential demeanor, his childish whining, but somehow he could not help it. Somehow today was different. Today he was betrayed.
Nancy spoke forcefully. "Mr. President. Your wife, daughter, and grandchildren in the hospital have been moved to a secure location. The others are in the waiting room being interrogated by the secret service. Your other daughters have been located and held in secure locations. We will do everything in our power to halt these traitorous acts, but sir…we need you here. We need you with us, Mr. President."
The president silenced himself, ashamed. For an instant in his mind Nancy became CJ, a wise press secretary who in Oklahoma had reminded him of his duties, her words still echoing in his head… We need you to lead, Mr. President. With three deep, silent breaths he collected himself and spoke. "Okay…is there anything else we need to do here?"
"Not here, sir."
"Alright then. Leo, I want to speak to Ginger. I want her to look me in the eye."
Leo nodded solemnly.
---
Donna sat in the waiting room near the door. The recent entrance of an agent had distracted everyone around her, she noticed. She realized that this could be to her advantage. For the past few minutes the door was conspicuously clear, the guarding agents off chatting in the far corners as they observed. Figuring that if she was stopped she could simply say she needed to use the bathroom, she stridently opened the door and left the room. There was something she had forgotten, and she wanted it. She needed it.
---
Margaret watched as an agent stepped into the waiting room. As everyone around her looked up in anticipation she was reminded of her recent trip to the dentists office, waiting for her root canal. This was ten times worse. Slowly, almost surgically, the agent checked his list. "Bonnie Giblin, will you come into the back room please."
Bonnie stood up, shaking violently. She wondered briefly if she had the right to call a lawyer, but then realized that in this case it probably wouldn't fly. She followed the agent into the back room and sat down. The agent remained standing.
"Did you know Ginger Hertz personally?"
"Well, yes. I believe everyone did."
"Did you consider her a friend?"
"I did. In fact we were going to get lattes after work today."
"I despise lattes."
"Oh."
"Did you meet in the white house?"
"Yes…to save you time, I had no previous knowledge of the acts committed today. I did not know the real Ginger, her secrets were well kept, and you have to believe me."
"I would love to believe you, Miss Giblin. But two seemingly loyal, hard-working, patriotic white house employees have just attempted to assassinate high level presidential advisors, so at this point everyone is a suspect. And I received information that you had the closest relationship to suspect Ginger Hertz, so I'm going to have to question you a little longer." The agent stood firm, imposing his presence upon the hopefully innocent white house secretary and speechwriter. But his inner thoughts were far less confident. It would be nearly impossible to uncover the identities of the traitors until they acted, he realized, some of these women are just too good at lying.
---
White House gate security guard Frankie Rowlands opened another can of Michelob as he watched the news in his small Foggy Bottom apartment. He was trying to comprehend his emotions as he realized that he was responsible for letting the bomb get into the West Wing. As reporters chatted away about the unfortunate events of the day, he drunkenly threw an empty can at the small television set. Three hurt. Three hurt because I blundered. And it was her damn birthday too.
As he opened his thirteenth can he began to feel his remaining consciousness ooze out of him. Eventually his alcohol induced sleep became too deep for life, and the next morning the bomb's body count increased by one.
---
"She's in here sir." Agent Butterfield led the president to Ginger's holding area in back of the hospital, where she would soon be picked up by the FBI via helicopter. He unlocked a metal door, revealing a room divided by a bulletproof glass wall with small holes meant for the traveling of voices. Ginger was slouched in the corner with a strange expression on her face when the president approached the glass.
"Hi Ginger." The president remained standing, intently watching the former white house employee as she continued to sit. "I know you'll be glad to hear that both CJ and Josh are doing fine."
The redheaded menace just snickered and then looked back at the wall.
"Ginger, what happened? Why did you do this?" The president was unexpectedly becoming emotional, so he quickly turned away for a second. This gave Ginger time to creep forward, so when he again faced the glass wall, he was face to face with the formally undercover terrorist. He did not waver now. "Why would you try to murder CJ?"
Ginger smiled widely, like that green Christmas monster that lives on an icy mountain, and streaked her hand sensually down the glass. "Oh she's just for show, Josiah. The real targets are the unworthy…that fat ugly Jew and that damn nigger that waits on you. And don't you worry sir, they will die. We almost got one the first time, collapsed his lung even! But it wasn't enough. This time we came dangerously close to complete success, but there will be more, sir. Third times a charm, Mr. President!" By now Ginger was laughing insanely, "Third time's a charm! Third time's a charm! Third time's a charm!"
Jed Bartlet stood stiffly, caught in a nightmare that would never end. He did not know what to say next, not sure if he even should say anything. Finally he felt the secure hand of agent Butterfield on his tense shoulder. "Are you ready to go, sir?"
The president was silent, but Butterfield knew the answer.
---
CJ fluttered her eyes open as she heard footsteps. Looking at the door she saw multiple secret service agents flowing into her room, forming a protective capsule around the visibly agitated president when he entered seconds later. When she saw the forcibly calm face of her boss, she knew in her heart that everything would be all right. "Hello Claudia."
CJ sat up in her bed, unconsciously respecting the presence of the president. "Hello sir."
Jed Bartlet walked to the edge of the bed and attempted a joke. "Birthday candles got a little out of control, did they?"
CJ smiled politely, absently rubbing a burned part of her face with her left hand. "Lucky I had Josh to blow them out."
The president conceded this fact. "At least he's good for something," he ventured sarcastically.
Suddenly CJ's face turned grim. "Sir, I asked Toby if you knew who was responsible. He claimed that he didn't know, but I don't believe him. Please tell me, sir. I'm ready."
The aging president sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, sighing as he rubbed his eyes. Finally he looked back at his fourth daughter. "CJ, it was Carol. She planted the bomb in your podium."
CJ's outward expression did not change. "And Ginger tried to poison me?"
"Yes."
For a few seconds there was audible silence. CJ fiddled uncomfortably with her pillow. "This isn't some extremely cruel birthday joke is it?" She did not know if she was joking or hoping.
"No CJ."
"Are they looking for her?" CJ struggled with the words… so many years of playful companionship. And then she tries to kill her.
"They found her. She committed suicide. Right now the going theory is that Carol and Ginger met in college and got involved with a Neo-Nazi terrorist group in Potsdam." The President realized that he shouldn't be talking about things that were not confirmed yet, but he needed to tell her something.
"Neo-Nazi--were they involved with Rosslyn? Carol and Ginger knew about the shooting?" CJ felt it coming together slightly in her head.
"That is a possibility."
"The things people do nowadays."
"Yeah…"
Bartlet creaked his neck behind him when agent Butterfield tapped him on the shoulder. "Mr. President, the agents have finished with their questioning. We do not believe anyone else was or will be involved in today's events. However, we will keep extra security around all white house employees for the foreseeable future."
Doctor Smolder entered the room and strode over to his patients bed, secretly waiting for the president to finish his conversation before he did so. Eavesdropping was this man's specialty, yet he still felt awkward as the president stood up from the mattress. He shouldn't make the president stand up. "Good morning Mr. President."
Bartlet was flabbergasted. "Morning? What time is it?"
The Doctor checked his watch. "I'm sorry. We still have fifteen minutes until midnight. I have good news. Josh is doing well, so we let him into the waiting room to visit with his friends. CJ, I'm just going to do a little check up, and you should be okay as well."
The president looked toward the door. Suddenly he whispered something in the doctor's ear and the doctor nodded affirmatively. CJ watched as the president left the room with the hint of a smile on his face.
---
When the hours of intense questioning had ceased, the remainder of the first family was permitted to rejoin their friends and colleagues in the waiting room. As the first lady entered with the rest of her family members she could sense the easing of tension; she could feel the slow and deadly restoration of trust among the staff.
Before anyone could acknowledge this new presence in the room, they all stood up, because someone even newer had just entered the room, and he wasn't having a good day at all. Jed Bartlet smiled in the presence of his friends and family.
"Everyone, I'm gladdened to hear that the secret service has determined that no more of you will be attempting to kill me or each other…"
Before the president could say anything else the opaque waiting room door swung open and knocked him in his flank, almost pushing him into Josh's lap. Stepping awkwardly through the door was the horrified face of Congressman Sam Seaborn, who immediately realized what he'd just done. As a crushing sense of humiliation swept over him, he quickly helped the president to his feat, mumbling hurried apologies as everyone else looked on in shock, and then slowly began to laugh.
As the president regained himself, he looked into the eyes of his former speechwriter and smiled. Then he turned back to his audience, "I give you the California Congressman Sam Seaborn!" This was met with more whoops of praise, which grew quite loud. After a rapid hushing with his hands, the president spoke again. "Before we have anymore time to think about this, we have only five minutes until midnight, so I say we all head over to CJ's room and remind her of how old she is!"
This was met with smiles from the staff and family of the West Wing and looks of horror of the secret service. Immediately, the nearly empty halls of the hospital were clogged with the remaining loyal staff of the Bartlet Administration, bearing gifts for an injured soul.
---
The lights in CJ's hospital room were out as the tired press secretary attempted to sleep. With a shudder she felt vibrations echoing down the halls, and she quickly sat up in her bed. The security guard standing in the corner, who was now nodding and smiling into his radio, calmed her fears temporarily. It wasn't until her door suddenly shot open and a throng of people ran in shouting "Happy Birthday" did her heart rate jump back up again.
As her various friends and co-workers surrounded her bed they quieted down, and before anyone said anything else, Josh lifted his hands as if he were a conductor and everyone began to sing the song CJ had already heard in another world.
"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday…"
Suddenly an irritable night nurse popped her head into the door, unaware of the occupant's identities, but aware of the noise they were making. "Excuse me folks, but its nearly midnight and we have some sick people here trying to, trying to…" She noticed the presence of president Bartlet and gulped. "I'm sorry Mr. President, my mistake." With that she popped back out into the hallway beat red.
Immediately the birthday song continued, albeit several decibels quieter. "Happy Birthday dear CJ, Happy Birthday to you!"
As the room erupted in smiles CJ noticed the presence of both Josh and Sam and with joy she pulled them close to her bed. "I'd like to thank all of you, but especially I'd like to thank these fine two gentlemen who are guilty of saving my life on two separate occasions." With that she kissed each of them on the cheek.
Although not one for modesty, Josh was red in the face. "CJ, I think I'm speaking for most everyone here when I say that you've saved our lives many, many times as our sole soldier against an army of pens and cameras."
CJ smiled and looked at all the beaming faces surrounding her, the faces of her truly loyal friends, and noticed one missing. Donna was nowhere to be seen. "Josh, where's Donna?"
Josh's smile faded only slightly. "She's right…oh…I don't know…"
Suddenly the mood became less jovial, and just as Sam walked out of the small bathroom to make sure it did not harbor a certain blond bombshell, there was a knock at the door.
One of the security agents walked over and opened it quickly with one hand while keeping his other near his belt. Donna stood beaming in the doorway with a freshly wrapped present, presumably for the press secretary. "Happy birthday CJ!" Excitedly she walked over to the birthday girl, trailed by a couple of the secret service agents, and set the gift in CJ's lap. "Try to keep it upright when you open it, and open it quickly!" Donna smiled contagiously.
CJ looked at the gift, as did everyone else in the room. The hesitation was momentary, but the blonde white house assistant felt it like acid rain. "It's just your birthday present, CJ."
CJ forced herself to smile as she only half lied to Donna, "I know, Donna, I was just so touched."
"Oh, well then open it!"
With agile fingers CJ carefully peeled away the smooth paper, revealing a pleasant surprise. Donna pointed to the small goldfish still swimming around the podium. "Its Gail Jr.!"
There was a collective sigh of relief and happiness throughout the room as CJ bonded with her new office buddy. Along the wall edges the secret service agents shifted slightly into their own tense form of guarded relaxation. CJ looked back at her gift giver. "Thank you Donna. Thank you not only for this, but for everything. In fact I'd like to propose a toast to Donna and Margaret and Bonnie and every other hard-wording…" CJ now looked at Josh, "under appreciated White House assistant, without the help of whom the West Wing would resemble a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off…" CJ paused as she realized that her metaphor was not quite appropriate for the day, and then continued by lifting her half empty Styrofoam cup of water into the air. "To the assistants!"
Her fellow co-workers and world leaders responded immediately. "To the assistants!"
TBC…