Debbie whipped around and looked at Charlie incredulously.
"Really, Charles. Why's that?"
"He just doesn't seem to care too much about solving the mystery," Charlie explained.
"Gee. What would make you say that?"
"The way he's frolicking around with Mrs. Bartlet."
Debbie laughed.
"Frolicking?"
"Yeah. They do that, ya know."
"Oh, I know. I just never would have chosen that particular term to describe it."
"Yeah. The President is definitely the murderer."
"Don't let the press hear you say that, or we'll be in trouble."
When C.J. Cregg entered the dining room, she found it completely quiet. She nearly assumed it was empty, when her eyes happened upon a familiar figure laying on the ground- still. His eyes were closed and his body still. She snickered silently to herself before tip-toeing towards him. She kneeled beside him, then reached out and poked his stomach. When he didn't respond, she poked him again, in the chest. She frowned when she still didn't get a response. C.J. slowly stood, then pressed her foot down on his stomach. Toby jerked up, causing C.J. to loose her balance and fall to the ground. After a moment, she lifted her body up into a sitting position and glared at him. He shrugged in return.
"You could have given me a concussion," C.J. said.
"You stepped on me!"
"You didn't move when I poked you!"
"What the hell were you doing poking me to begin with!" Toby exclaimed.
"It was fun!" C.J. argued back.
Toby rolled his eyes.
"It's fun to poke the victim's body."
"Yes!"
"Well, you sure have a knack for raising the dead today, C.J."
"Mrs. Peacock!" C.J. corrected him.
"Yeah, yeah. Now would you get outta here please? Don't I deserve to be dead in peace?"
"Jed," Abbey mumbled. "Jed…come on, stop."
She tried to catch his hands, which had begun to roam over her body aimlessly. She finally caught him on her hips and stopped their movement.
"Don't you want to find out who the murderer is?" She asked.
"Not really, no."
"Well, I do!" She shrugged out of his grasp.
"But you're Miss Scarlett. You're supposed to be a vixen. A harlot, if you will."
Abbey's jaw dropped in shock.
"You just called your own wife a prostitute. I think you have to ask yourself, what does that say about you if you married a prostitute?"
"I'll tell you exactly what it says about me…just follow me into the bedroom and I'll tell you all about it."
"Your entire staff is up here, Jed," Abbey protested.
"Mr. Green," he said, pulling her back into his embrace.
She shook her head fervently, and untangled herself from him yet again.
"I'm leaving!"
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to go interrogate some of the others."
"You better not."
Abbey grinned at him slyly and began strutting away from him.
"Just try and stop me."
"Colonel Mustard!" C.J. called, entering the kitchen.
"Mrs. Peacock."
"May I borrow you for a moment?"
"I didn't do it," Leo said, simply.
"Well, I don't believe you. Prove it."
Leo sighed, irritably.
"I mean it. Name your weapon, Colonel."
"Make me."
"Don't tempt me. I've got some tricks up my sleeve. I'm no weakling."
"Really, because you seemed rather weak back when Sam was tickling you," Leo replied.
"That was torture. He was torturing me."
"Yeah, that was pretty obvious."
"It's like the Spanish Inquisition up here."
Leo nodded.
"I can't wait until this crash is over."
"It's taking a lot longer than usual. You don't think something could be seriously wrong, do you?" C.J. asked.
"Nah, I'd be in the sit room by now if that were the case."
C.J. looked at him suspiciously.
"Was that a clue?"
Leo smirked.
"Maybe."
"At least give me your weapon too!"
"I just did."
"What!"
"There were two clues in that sentence, Mrs. Peacock. Read between the lines."
