A/N: For disclaimers please see chapter 1. Also, the country of 'Ephar' is mine and purely fictional, and not based on any real country at all.

Chapter VII – Eric Orson

The year seemed to be speeding along; they had hit the ground running with the second Bartlett term. The bombshell of Danny Concannon's discoveries about Kumar was set to disrupt peace, but that was not the only problem stirring. The Ephari elections were set to take centre stage in the world's media, the run up to which had already gathered ferocious pace. The two opposing leaders were not going to let the battle go without a fight, and it was becoming something of a worry for the superpowers watching one of the largest and most unstable countries of the Middle East come to racial and ethnic loggerheads in a political race for ultimate power.

Danny Concannon lingered in a doorway he knew all too well. She was engrossed in a report; he knocked lightly to catch her attention. CJ's eyes flicked up, simultaneously she groaned, anticipating another advance in the problem the reporter was posing to the stability of the administration.

"If it's about Kumar, Danny I really don't want to know right now, I've got this…" He cut in:

"Hi there Danny, how's it going?" She glared at him. He looked at her wistfully – she had missed that look.

"I'm not going out to dinner with you." Danny sighed, his buoyancy faded.

"Well I'm glad you still think about that CJ, but I'm here on business." She had been one up, now it was her turn to lose her grin.

"But it's not Kumar?"

"No."

"Then…?"

"Has the Bartlett Administration got any interest in the elections in Ephar?"

"As much as the next superpower watching, Danny. What's going on?" She tried to appear nonplussed, leaning back in her desk chair although to Danny, she sounded a little uneasy.

"I have a source."

"Danny…" She warned, rising from her desk, his eyes didn't leave hers as she took the few steps over to him.

"CJ, you know I'm asking you out of the briefing room as a favour?"

"Danny, you've always been kind to me and to this Administration, you know I appreciate that." There was a playful hint of sarcasm as CJ attempted to dissipate the tension that had grown in the small space between them.

"Did you send someone to protect Jeremiah ben-Kurah?"

"Danny, I know as well as you do that we have no grounds to interfere."

"That didn't stop us going in before."

"That was an issue in the seventies Danny." He looked at her sceptically.

"You'll have an answer for me?"

"Danny?" She could see the remorse in Danny's eyes. He was the conscience of the Administration she often thought, and at moments like this she could see something in him that wished he didn't have to question her, but his commitment to the job was never anything less than one hundred percent. They might have had a chance at something together if he – it occurred to her those thoughts were running through her head and she silently cursed herself. Danny looked on her with sad eyes, not for the words he was about to utter, but for the person she no longer was. He saw a sad woman, someone who under the surface was raw and alone; once upon a time, beside the frantic rows, he'd bring a smile to her face, warmth that he felt no longer. He wondered what had changed. Perhaps, he thought, it was being stalked, even though he reasoned that CJ was a tougher person than that. She looked at him with eyes as she had when they rowed in the Oval Office, and he left her all those years ago.

"I have a name." She nodded her silent understanding. "Eric Orson." She smiled professionally. He bowed his head and momentarily hated his job, but he didn't move. "CJ… I'm sorry." He wanted more than anything to make her feel ok again, despite her cheery briefings; he seemed to be watching slip farther away. She softly shook her head, there was nothing he should be sorry for; he was just doing his job. She sat back down at her desk and scribbled the name down, pausing and placing her pen down, she looked up at a man she had once thought possible to love. The tenderness she had once seen was still a prominent feature in his face, she gathered strength from his warm eyes, but the spark had gone. Danny backed slowly out of her office. "I'll be at my desk." His voice was soft, his footsteps faded and she picked up the phone.

Ron Butterfield walked purposefully into Leo McGarry's office. Margaret had shown him in, Leo stood, a look of concern on his face.

"Ron."

"Good evening Mr McGarry."

"Eric Orson."

"Yes sir."

"He's American." Leo stated, hoping Ron would correct him.

"An ex-Ranger sir. Four tours to Ephar in the seventies."

"Did we put him in Ephar this time?"

"No sir."

"Then what's the deal?"

"Eric Orson, sir." He handed a manilla file over. Leo took it, and still standing, opened the file. At the sight of the photo in the front of the dossier, he took a deep breath and sat down.

"I'm gonna read this now." With a sharp "Yes sir." Ron made a quick exit; his stomach was churning uncharacteristically, his thoughts straying to the Press Secretary who had raised the issue.

It was late. Danny tapped furiously at his laptop, the work of having two major stories on the go never seemed to subside; he loved it all though – it made his world go round. She watched him from the shadows for a minute before he sensed a presence. He turned, but fell silent when he laid eyes on her willowy figure in the half-light. She smiled nervously.

"Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"Could we…" She took a deep breath, "… could we talk… like we used to?" Danny felt his heart tug; she looked so vulnerable, like he had never seen her before.

"Sure. You wanna go some place else?" She moved her head in a half nod. Danny took his cue and quickly saving his work, escorted her from the building. She let him drive her, in a half daze, thoughts ran over her glazed eyes but she couldn't catch them. Instead she watched the orange of the street lamps pass them by, punctuating the alcoves of darkness in the city, sending fleeting shadows dancing across their faces.

Danny drew up outside his apartment block, outwardly he was strong, resolved, but inwardly he was worried about CJ. He cut the engine and they sat in the silence that had been their company since they left the White House.

"Is this ok, I thought you might want some privacy?" She didn't respond. "Or I could take you home if you want?" Still nothing. "CJ?" Her eyes looked past the windscreen, past the street ahead and off somewhere Danny seemed unable to reach her. Gently, he touched her arm. "Hey, CJ?" At his soft touch, she snapped back to reality.

"Danny! Where are we?"

"We're outside my apartment I was just saying I could take you home but I don't know where you…" She cut in:

"No, this is fine." She got out, slamming the door, Danny followed hastily, unsure of quite what was going on. They rushed inside, CJ seemed anxious to be behind closed doors.

Inside his modest apartment, Danny showed CJ to the couch. She slumped in it and threw her head back, as she sighed, the worn but confident woman seemed to return. Danny sat on the edge of the cushion, not wanting to intrude. Again, they sat in a contemplative silence. It was an easy silence, yet Danny yearned for her to give him some indication as to what was going on.

"Did you ever get into something so deep you look around and don't recognise where you are?" She asked. Danny didn't miss a beat before softly issuing his reply.

"Yeah."

"What did you do?" CJ turned to face him, her face was drawn and she looked momentarily older than she had under the lights of the briefing room that morning.

"I…" Danny sighed. "I wrote, immersed myself in my work." He snorted. "I stuck my head in books and papers so I didn't have to get to know the new surroundings." CJ nodded.

"Did it work?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I never found out, because I met someone who lifted my face up, and looking around I realised it wasn't that bad."

"It wasn't?" She looked sideways at him.

"No. It really wasn't. They made me ask, what's the point in wanting something that's done and gone?"

"Because I won't give up." She looked at him hard, he still had no idea of her agenda, even when she sighed. "And I really don't want to let go."

"CJ…" She looked at him with eyes that told him no matter what she was immovable on that. "CJ, what happened?" She shut her eyes, trying to barricade the tears behind her lids; she failed as a tear escaped. Danny leant over hand took hold of a slender hand.

"It's ok, you don't have to…" She did anyway.

"Last May, Danny – I… my bodyguard, we…" She looked at him and he knew what she meant, then she carried on, at first trying to justify it "after... the stalker was caught though." She inhaled sharply against the tears; Danny kept his hand on hers and squeezed in reassurance. "Then he left me, just said he had to go! And now my Dad's leaving me too… Danny – Jesus Christ! I can't do this!" She broke down, slipping her hand from his to cover her face. He pulled her into his arms, hushing her. He felt completely terrified and honoured at the same time. Any feelings of lust he had ever had for her were transferred into compassion, and there they would stay; in his arms she felt just like his little sister.

"It's ok, CJ – have a cry, get it out."

"I can't do this!" She sniffed.

"Yeah you can CJ, it'll be ok." He rocked her back and forth just as he had Emily.

"Everyone I love, Danny, all of them! They leave me!"

"Shhh, no they don't CJ."

"Simon left me, my Dad's losing his mind!" And you left me, she thought, although through the tears she somehow restrained herself.

"I know it's hard, you'll get through."

"How?"

"You're the most stubborn woman I know, CJ believe me, you'll get through." They were quiet aside for her sobs. After a few minutes, she settled into his arms, feeling comforted and unafraid he would go. She could hear his steady heart beat; it helped her gain control of her breathing.

"Thank you Danny." She mumbled into his shirt. He squeezed her tight.

"You feel any better yet?" a muffled 'mhmm' came from the think frame in his arms. "CJ, really, are you ok?" He drew her away from his chest to see her face; her mascara had run making streaks down her porcelain cheeks, her red eyes looked intensely into his.

"Fine."

"Shall I take you home, you need some rest."

"Can I stay here, Danny, please?"

Only a week ago, it would have been a dream come true to go to bed with CJ Cregg. Now, it drained him in the way that a friend shares the weight, she clung to him as if he were her brother. It was intimate, but not sexual; loving yet not arousing; he held her and they were not moved to find the connection they once shared. Finally he felt some warmth in her, if nothing else, there was hope kindled in her soul. No matter what the days threw at her, he had reminded her that she could face it.

TBC-