Story: Checkmate
Chapter 1
Disclaimer: The characters depicted in this story belong to NBC, WB, and Aaron Sorkin. We're just borrowing them for some fun :)
Story Summary: The battle lines are drawn in the Bartlet house when it's Jed versus Abbey in a game of politics
Author's Note: This is a bit different, but we hope it's fun!
Spring 1982
Dressed in his white shirt and tuxedo pants, Jed sat hunched over the small cherrywood table, a black rook in his hand as he contemplated his next move. He was used to this. There was a time when Abbey's primping would have stirred his impatience to the point of anger, but that time had long since passed. He now just accepted that any elegant dinner or formal party would require an hour or two of downtime for him while he waited for her.
Tonight was no different.
A copy of last Sunday's New York Times crossword puzzle was crumpled against the rim of the trash can, a clear indication that he had completed it with his own four-letter word for a five-letter answer, and his worn edition of Jacobo Timerman's The Prisoner Without a Name, Cell Without a Number was tossed on top of the bed. The girls were spending the night with Abbey's parents in Boston, so Jed chose to entertain himself - alone - with an unsuspenseful game of chess.
Finally, it looked as though Abbey was making progress. She waltzed out in front of him in a purple strapless cocktail dress, her hips swaying slightly, causing him to drop his rook at first glance.
"Wow."
"Just the reaction I wanted," she said, her gaze quickly falling to the ground. "Do these shoes match?"
"Each other?"
"Seriously." She modeled them by moving her feet together.
"They're beige."
"They're taupe."
He shrugged. "Whatever."
"I didn't ask for a color analysis. Do they match?"
"The shoes are taupe and the dress is purple, so no, they don't match."
"I'm not asking if they match the dress. I'm asking if they match the hose."
He looked at her for forty-five agonizing seconds before he gave up trying to make sense of her logic. "What?"
"I'm short. If the shoes match my legs, it creates a continuous line from my knees to my feet and gives the illusion that I'm taller."
Knowing there was no way he would get out of a conversation like this unscathed, he simply nodded and agreed. "Okay. Then in that case, yes, the shoes are a perfect match."
Satisfied, Abbey walked over to her old Victorian jewelry box to pull out a pair of amethyst gem earrings. "How much fun could it possibly be playing chess by yourself?"
"It's more fun than you know. I look at the whole board. It gives me a chance to strategize to avoid being caught off-guard. First rule of chess, My Sweet, always look ahead and anticipate your opponent's next move. Otherwise, you'll be sitting on the other end of 'checkmate.'"
"Thanks for the lesson." She lifted the sides of her hair as she approached him. "Are these earrings okay?"
"The earrings are independent of the dress as well?"
"Jed."
"I'm just wondering if you want your neck to look longer."
She took his teasing in stride, throwing him a cocky smirk as she angled her head just so to flirtatiously wink at him. Rising to his feet and flipping his jacket over his shoulder in that famous Jed Bartlet way, he simply laughed.
Jed loved the serious, professional side of his wife, but he enjoyed the spunky, playful Abbey even more. With her residency nearly finished, she was studying for her board certification exam, and then, her fellowship year to complete her subspecialty in thoracic surgery. The long hours were far from over, but every step in pursuit of her dream forced another clearing in the cloud of stress that surrounded her.
He could almost see the tension vanishing a little more every day. It was visible in her smile, in her twinkling green eyes, and her beaming face that was beginning to show the very first signs of laugh lines around the mouth. She was always beautiful, but tonight, she just looked radiant.
He hoped for a pleasant evening, devoid of any serious discussion. He was fooling himself, of course. The annual celebration for the state democrats to mark the final month of the legislative session was never without a small amount of controversy. This year, it would be even worse, because this year, the topic of choice was also Abbey's passion.
"They spout the support of medical and public health organizations and, yet, not one American health association accepts marijuana as medicine," Representative Bob Logan pointed out to the small crowd gathered around him.
"And not one of them can site any reasonable study that's been done to suggest..." Representative Carl Morrison began.
"Excuse me," Abbey interjected. "I'm sorry, but I just wanted to answer Representative Logan. I can get you a list of health professionals who advocate the use of medicinal marijuana."
"That isn't necessary, Mrs. Bartlet..."
"Doctor Bartlet," she corrected respectfully. "I happen to be one of those people. Marijuana is safer than many of the medicines we traditionally use to treat patients. The benefits far outweigh the side affects."
"Now correct me if I'm wrong, but what about the damage it does to the body? What about the addictive properties?"
"Only nine percent of users become dependent. And, really, when you compare that to the number of alcoholics in this country..."
Jed wrapped a tight arm around Abbey's waist. "Okay, I think we've about worn this topic out."
"No, we really haven't," Abbey replied, looking at him quizzically. It wasn't like Jed to halt a debate, especially one like this.
"Why don't we get something to drink?" He said, prompting her suspicions as he ushered her away from the group of politicians.
"What was that?"
"I just wanted tonight to be a peaceful night. No shop talk."
"Everyone here is a state legislator and you really thought there would be no shop talk?"
"Abbey."
"What's going on, Jed?"
"I'd just prefer it if..."
Another Representative passed by the couple, stopping to whisper to Abbey, "I agree with you, Dr. Bartlet. I wanted to pass the legislation to legalize it this year, but it was railroaded before it ever got off the ground."
She turned to greet Larry Griggs, a man she had met many times. "Well, I'm not convinced pot should be legalized, but I do think it should be used as a viable drug option for patients with terminal illnesses."
"Yes, that's what I mean. Not general legalization."
"For medicinal use. I didn't even know it was up for consideration."
"Oh yes. A few of us wanted to propose it and we tried to find a sponsor, but had virtually no support from anyone else."
"I'm sure Jed could have wrangled a few votes. Couldn't you, Darling?" Jed took a long sip of his martini, refusing to connect to his wife's gaze. "Jed?"
His silence answered the question she asked, and even provided clues to the one she didn't. They had talked about this before and she had taken for granted that Jed shared her belief on such a controversial topic. But as he set down his drink and pulled hers out of her hands, then grabbed her arm to escort her to a more private corner of the room, she realized she was wrong.
"Look..."
"You're not seriously against this," she insisted. "Are you?"
"This isn't something I want to get into right now."
"Your colleagues are talking about it. Why wouldn't you want to get into it now?"
"Because I have a feeling if I tell you what I really think, you're going to get pissed at me and cause a scene."
"Being the psychopath I am?"
"That isn't what I meant."
"I'm a big girl, Jed. I can handle the fact that not everyone will agree with my opinion." She leaned in slightly and said softly, "Even if I am a medical doctor and am speaking with some level of authority on the matter."
"Can we talk about it later?"
"Us?"
"Yeah."
"Sure."
She turned from him then, but with a gentle grip on her upper arm, he spun her back around. "Where are you going?"
"To mingle," Abbey answered so innocently that he heard a spark of rebellion in her voice. "Isn't that why we came?"
"Abbey, please let this issue drop." Jed stopped and smiled at the couple who passed them, then continued. "You know I wouldn't presume to tell you what to talk about..."
"Or what not to talk about in this case."
"Please. It's important."
His urgency gave her pause. Never had he tried to stifle her opinion, even if he didn't agree with her. But without a morsel of doubt, she trusted that he had his reasons. Reasons he would hopefully explain to her later. So, she gestured with a subtle tilt of her head and ignored the issue for the rest of the night.
It was only after they returned home that she approached the subject once again.
"Do you now want to tell me how my debating the advantages of marijuana would have hurt you or your political agenda?" she asked boldly as she kicked off her three-inch heels and presented her back to him so he could unzip her dress.
"We don't want the debate."
"We?" She turned to face him after he unzipped her.
"The rest of us. Both parties agree a debate on medicinal marijuana would never even make it to a vote and there are more important things to focus on. I didn't want you humoring Griggs into thinking he could drum up support from me through you."
"And what if I happen to think you're wrong?" She walked away.
Jed threw on a pair of boxers and a faded Notre Dame T-shirt. "You're entitled to your opinion."
"You're wrong, Jed. You're wrong," Abbey called out from the bathroom. "More and more doctors are advocating the use the marijuana for all sorts of conditions. There are tens of thousands of patients around the country who could get immediate relief from some of their symptoms through this drug."
He pulled back the sheets and crawled into bed. "This is why I didn't want to talk about it."
"Why?"
"Because I knew you'd take the scientific approach and I think there's more to it than that. Making illegal drugs legal sends a dangerous message. It destabilizes the theory that all drugs are dangerous."
"That's a poor argument."
Jed rolled his eyes. This was exactly what he expected. "Uh huh."
Abbey stepped out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed, now dressed in her silk pajamas. "You're not a doctor."
"And you're not a politician," he snapped. "I wish you'd remember that."
Surprised by his defensiveness, she replied, "I do remember that."
This was foreign territory. She had been a staunch supporter of medicinal marijuana since the late '70s when the debate really made headlines. He knew this about her and yet, she never realized where he stood. She could accept his disagreement, but it was the sting of being kept in the dark about something so important to her that spurred her bitterness.
"There's other legislation I'd like to pursue." He softened his tone considerably, but it didn't sway her feelings.
"Like raising the cost of parking tickets? Or limiting the number of pets one can own?" Her sarcasm could easily rival his, especially when she was annoyed.
Insulted, his eyes narrowed and he spoke with a tightened jaw. "Like funding Head Start, like making sure no one cuts fine arts out of next year's school budget, like focusing on measures that would keep criminals like Frank Crews locked up forever."
Although it had been three years since she was attacked, Abbey still flinched when she heard that name. "Well then, better luck next year," she returned, sliding her legs under the covers.
"Nice, Abbey."
"You're supposed to be representing the people who put you in office."
"I am! And in case you're forgetting, they put ME in office. I think I'm adequately qualified to determine what they had in mind when they voted for me. If you want a say in policy, then put your name on the ballot. Otherwise, express your opinion then let me do my job without worrying about a lecture from you every time I take a stand you don't like!"
And with that, he fluffed his pillow, yanked on the sheets and closed his eyes. Abbey rolled away from him and tugged on the sheets until she gripped a fistful of fabric under her chin.
Neither got much sleep that night. The sun began to rise before Jed actually drifted off and less than an hour later, the sound of clinking pots and pans disturbed him. He turned to find Abbey's side of the bed empty, then slipped into his navy blue velour robe and made his way downstairs.
"Hi," he said sheepishly as he reached the kitchen.
"Hi." Abbey put a lid over the eggs she had just cooked. Already dressed in a simple black suit, her hair was pulled into a French twist held in place by a clip, the way she usually wore it to work.
"I thought your shift didn't start until noon."
"It doesn't. I have to run an errand."
Jed cornered her near the kitchen table. "Forget the errand. Lets have breakfast together." He gave her a smile. "I want to apologize for last night."
"We both said things. I was upset and I shouldn't have reacted the way I did."
"So let's talk about it. Without the hostility or preconceived notions. Let's hear each other out."
"I would have loved to last night, but this morning...I really can't forget about the errand. It's important."
"Can't be that important."
She pulled a cup out of the cupboard. "I made you a couple of eggs and I cut up some fresh fruit in the fridge."
"What are you doing that can't wait until Monday?"
"I'm driving to Concord to pick up some paperwork."
"What kind of paperwork?" He took a bite of the cucumber she had just peeled.
"The kind I need to run for office," she answered nonchalantly while pouring him some orange juice.
Stunned, the uneaten end of the cucumber sat frozen between his teeth until he pulled it out. "What?"
"I'm challenging you for the Democratic nomination in September."
Jed stared at her, speechlessly for several seconds. Then, he finally mumbled, "You...what?"
Abbey looked him squarely in the eye. "I'm taking your advice and putting my name on the ballot. I'm challenging you for your seat in the State House. We'll be running against each other. Won't that be something, Dear?"
TBC
