Part One
Of all the things to be thankful for this holiday season, Jed Bartlet was claiming this moment above all else. A pair of skilled, petite hands sensuously caressed his back and urged him on as he celebrated his joy in the most ancient way imaginable. His lover, his equal and solution, moaned his name in that tone that sent a rise through him like victory. And she slid her fingers through his hair, guiding his mouth over hers to quiet the delightful noises of their private party.
Her legs wrapped tight around his waist and his hand on her thigh kept their bodies close and their breaths shallow. Her breasts pressed against his chest didn't help matters. She was Aphrodite and he was a living Greek worshipping her bodily with his lips and hands and manhood and all of him. Her auburn hair fanned out over her pillow and flyaway curls fell over her perspiration misted shoulders. This was Utopia.
Unfortunately, Utopia as dreams can't last forever and it didn't. They're bodies quaked in a grand explosion of 29 fireworks and instinctive rampant motions that made them spin like the hurricane their life had become in a few short months.
Satiated, but not exhausted, they lied there, looking at each other. "Tomorrow will be good." Jed ventured.
"It could be better," she returned, knowing he knew to what she was referring.
"Are you still bent out of shape because we're doing thing a little different this year?"
"A little different? Just this year? Jed, this isn't a one year change. This
is the next four years. I've got to see these people day in and day out now.
Would it have been too much to ask for one last Thanksgiving dinner with my
family before I never see them again?"
"Abigail, you're overreacting here. You will see them again. I'm not
whisking you to a kingdom far, far away. We're just going to D. C. That's all.
They can visit us and you can visit them whenever you like."
"Jed, you're being naïve. This isn't the House Reps anymore. This is the White
House, a full-time gig. We'll never see the girls and I'll hardly ever see you.
I want everything while it's still mine. I just want to be the Bartlets a
little bit longer."
He took her hand and kissed it gently. "We'll always be the Bartlets."
She sighed and shook her head. "It doesn't really make a difference. What's done is done."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"I'm not saying it like anything."
"Then, what's wrong?"
"What's wrong is that I'm afraid that four years from now I'll open my eyes and my girls will be grown and I won't know anything about them or anything about you."
"That won't happen."
"You can't guarantee that."
"I can."
"How?"
"By holding you and holding us together. Because together is what we do."
"If you say so."
"Is there any way I can make this up to you?"
"Not entirely, but you can cheer me up. " She smiled moving closer to him.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and nuzzled her ear. "How can I do that?"
"You can invite Doug to dinner and make Liz happy." She scooted over and slid from the beneath the covers.
"Wait, what?"
"Invite him and spend forever making me happy."
"I can do that."
"Then, you're well on your way." She turned back from the door of the bathroom. "Now, I need someone to wash my back in the shower. You up for it or should I call Doug?"
"I think I got this one. But I'll keep him in mind for, you know, never."
"Yeah I'm cold now. Warm me up already."
"Coming, dear." He got out of bed to follow her.
"You have no idea."
The next day.
"Zoey! Run upstairs to the linen closet and grab a couple of table clothes,
will you please?"
Abbey appeared in the arched doorway of the living room, where 16-year-old Zoey Bartlet sat slumped against the couch, her level of cheer and excitement matching that of Eboneezer Scrooge.
"Zoey, did you hear me?" Abbey asked, with her hands planted firmly on her hips.
"What."
"I asked you to go to the linen closet and get..."
"I hear you," Zoey said, glumly.
"Okay. Well, any day now."
Zoey rolled her eyes and reluctantly rose off of the couch, stomping her way out of the room. Abbey's watchful eyes followed her as she ascended the stairs.
"Zoey."
She stopped in her tracks, not bothering to turn and look at her mother.
"Whatever it is that's going on in your head right now, get rid of it. I don't want to see or hear that teenage attitude of yours today. Understood?"
Zoey shrugged her shoulders indifferently and continued on her ascension up the stairs.
"Whatever."
Abbey was about to chastise her youngest daughter for that last remark, but was interrupted by the irritating sound of the phone ringing. She jogged into the kitchen, glanced over at her husband busily preparing the turkey, and picked up the phone hanging on the wall.
"Hello? Oh, hi, Tom. Happy Thanksgiving to you too. Oh, good. Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
Jed approached her quietly, a mischievous expression on his face, holding a few turkey giblets in his cupped hands. Abbey made a disgusted face and waved him away.
"Everything's fine, Tom. I'll be back to work in no time. Well, four years to be exact. Yeah."
"Eight years!" Jed shouted out to her.
Abbey shook her head and shushed him urgently.
"No, that was Jed. He's cooking this year."
Jed's smile faded into a dejected frown when he heard his wife's hysterical laughter.
"It's a riot, isn't it? Rest assured, the girls will be tasting the schmorgasboard before I go anywhere near it."
"Hey!" Jed cried.
"Shush!" She whispered, her hand wrapped around the receiver.
"I'll be damned if this isn't the best turkey you'll ever have," Jed added.
"Well, I'm sure you'll enjoy Hell, darling," Abbey replied, with a knowing grin.
Then, she successfully dodged the giblet that came soaring her way.
Zoey Bartlet stood in her bright pink bedroom surveying her surroundings. Too pink. Definitely too pink. In the midst of her teenage rebellion, the color pink had been thrown into a cyclone of things rejected. Not just colors, but emotions, objects, fashions, attitudes. The tornado swirled above her rapidly and began to twist even faster when she added Thanksgiving into the gyrating mass of the unwanted and forgotten. She then turned to face her reflection in the mirror above her bureau. She observed her features for a moment and, after she deemed them acceptable and rightfully scandalous, she pulled on her jacket and stealthily slipped out of her bedroom window.
"Pull in here!" Elizabeth Bartlet Westin cried out suddenly.
Doug Westin swerved the car to the right and pulled into the driveway of Rite-Aid pharmacy. The car full of Secret Service that drove behind them was thrown off-guard but eventually found the parking lot as well.
"Okay, now park the car."
Doug turned and gazed at his wife in disbelief.
"Thank you, Liz."
"You'd be lost without me." She grinned.
He did as he was told and parked the car, watching with slight confusion as Liz hopped out of the passenger seat.
"What are you doing?" Doug called out to her.
"Picking up a bottle of wine."
"From Rite-Aid?"
"Got a better idea?" Liz challenged him.
"Well, no."
"All right then."
Liz ran into the drug store and Doug turned up the radio. Zeppelin.
"Doug?" Annie, then eleven years old, shouted above 'All my Love.'
"What?" Doug responded, twisting the dial to turn down the volume.
"Grandma and Grandpa know I'm a vegetarian now, right?"
Doug's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"You're a vegetarian now?"
"Doug!" Annie cried.
"When did this happen?"
"This morning!"
"Ah. Well, hard to believe I didn't pick up on that one."
"Uh, yeah! You think Mom told Grandma and Grandpa?" Annie asked.
"You'll have to ask Mom. But knowing your grandma, I'm sure she'll have something healthy and vegan for you to munch on."
"Like celery?"
"Uh...maybe," Doug said.
"Cause I hate celery."
Doug nodded and turned up the volume a bit more.
"Okay then."
The passenger door flew open, allowing the icy air to fill up the vehicle, and Liz reclaimed her seat.
"Did you get the wine?"
"Two bottles. $13.95 a pop," Liz replied.
"Great. Your father's about to become President of the United States and we just bought him fourteen dollar wine."
Sam Seaborn, Joshua Lyman, and Claudia Jean Cregg stood shoulder-to-shoulder on the porch of the Bartlets' Manchester home, staring at the front door.
"Should we, y'know, go inside?" Sam asked.
"We should knock first," CJ suggested.
"I don't know, I'm thinking maybe we should ring the doorbell," Josh reasoned.
"Right, because there's a difference," Sam replied.
"You think we should take a vote?" Josh asked, in all seriousness.
"Oh, for God's sake," CJ muttered under her breath as she stepped forward,
approaching the door.
She rang the doorbell once, then tapped lightly on the door with her fist.
"Compromise, boys," CJ said, twisting her head around and glaring at them with a breezy smile. "That's how it's done."
However, when nearly two minutes passed without acknowledgment that they were waiting outside, Sam and Josh began to snicker. CJ stepped back until she stood shoulder to should with them once again.
"Okay, plan B."
"You thinking of breaking in?" Sam questioned, wryly.
"I don't know, it's pretty cold out here," Josh said.
CJ glanced down at her wristwatch.
"We're not that early."
"I know, so what..."
In one remarkably swift movement, Abbey Bartlet swung the door open and stood before them. Her sweater was twisted a bit and her hair slightly mussed but beyond that, she looked relatively presentable.
"Hello, everyone!"
They all stuttered their various greetings in returned and allowed the future First Lady to escort them into her home.
"You must have been freezing out there. Sorry it took me so long to answer.
You can blame that on your president."
After the initial confusion, comprehension set in when they registered the twisted sweater, the mussed up hair, and included the comment on 'their president.' CJ's face immediately flushed, Josh glanced away awkwardly, and Sam grinned knowingly.
"You can have a seat in the living room. I'll tell Jed you're all here."
They all burst into fits of laughter the moment Abbey exited the room.
The Westins' sleek, black SUV pulled into the driveway at the same time Ellie Bartlet's Toyota Corolla had come to a stop. Both of their details parked their cars just behind them. The two oldest Bartlet girls jumped out of their respective vehicles and gravitated towards each other. Liz pulled her little sister into a tight hug, then separated from her body to take a look at her.
"You dyed your hair," Liz said, in an almost accusing manner.
"Just a little darker."
"It looks brown. Why would anyone dye their hair brown?"
"Your hair's brown!" Ellie exclaimed.
"Yes. But it's natural. You're a natural blonde, so why?"
"Oh, leave it alone, Liz."
By this time, Annie had climbed out of the car and interrupted their exchange.
"Aunt Ellie!"
Ellie bent over a little and hugged her niece.
"Hi, sweetie. How's it going?"
"Good. I'm a vegetarian now," Annie announced, proudly.
Ellie glanced warily over at Liz, who rolled her eyes.
"Really," Ellie replied. "Well, that's very...healthy of you."
Liz mouthed "It won't last," to her as Doug approached his sister-in-law, a genuinely congenial smile on his face.
"Hey, El."
"Hi, Doug," Ellie said, hugging him politely.
"How's Yale treating you?"
"Eh, the same as always."
"Ellie made the dean's list again," Liz interjected.
"Oh, congratulations!"
"Thank you! Less than five months till graduation. I'm just counting the days."
"I bet."
Annie grabbed her aunt's hand and began leading her up to the house. Liz and Doug followed with little hesitation.
"Come on, I need to make sure Grandma and Grandpa know I'm a vegetarian.
Turkey is off-limits! Ya dig?"
With the slamming on his car door came the rising of his voice as it resounded
in the air. Leo McGarry held his cellular phone tightly to his ear, yelling
obscenities into the receiver while he stalked up the driveway. "We just won an
election, damnit! It's one thing to quit after a staggering loss, or even a
marginal one, but after an overwhelming victory? Have you been drinking? All
right, all right, there's no need to bring that up. No. Mandy! I don't believe
this. You're passing up the opportunity of a lifetime for $500,000 a year? Okay,
yeah, that's good money, but it's an empty occupation, Madeline. There's no
excitement, no thrill, no honor. It's just money. Yes, I know money makes the
world go 'round, Mandy, but I thought your idea of a world was different than
most. Then I underestimated you. Look, I gotta go, I'm at the governor's farm.
You know, the future President of the United States that you've suddenly decided
is beneath you! Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Helluva happy
Thanksgiving all right. Bye."
After ascending the porch steps, Leo reached the front door and promptly pressed his index finger to the bell and waited.
"Josh, just leave it alone," CJ Cregg suggested, with exasperation plain in her voice.
She sat on the couch flanked by Sam Seaborn and Toby Ziegler while Josh Lyman sat in an armchair diagonal from them.
"We need to check it out," Josh defended himself.
"Not like it's going to make a difference anyway," Sam reasoned. "The votes have already been cast. We won."
"Josh, Leo wouldn't have allowed us to get this far if he thought the future First Couple was going to cause us a scandal. We're not even in the White House yet, for God's sake," Toby answered, thoroughly frustrated and bored by this conversation.
"I cleared this with, Leo. He's good with it," Josh said.
"He's good with it?" CJ repeated, incredulously.
"Yeah. As long as I don't get caught."
They all laughed heartily, and as a result, Josh's confident face fell into discontent.
"Good luck with that," Toby said.
"Where's Jenny?" Abbey asked, the moment she flung open her front door to find Leo standing there, alone.
"She and Mallory decided to have dinner with her parents. It was last minute"
Leo explained.
"Why?"
"Something important her mother needed to tell them, I don't know. I don't ask questions."
Abbey held the door wide open and beckoned for his entrance.
"Maybe you should start."
Leo nodded in an almost patronizing manner and stepped over the threshold.
"What's for dinner? Tofu turkey?"
"As a matter of fact, we're having vegetable lasagna with a fresh, garden salad, steamed cauliflower, boiled potatoes, and chicken broth," Abbey replied.
It wasn't until he noticed her sardonically raised eyebrow that he realized she was joking.
"You should really consider taking that act to Vegas," Leo quipped.
"I have, actually," Abbey answered, casually, leading him into the living room where all the guests awaited. "Manchester's awfully provincial for my style of comedy, wouldn't you agree?"
"I wouldn't dream of disputing you, Abbey."
For reasons unbeknownst even to herself, Annie Bartlet loved to sit on the counter and watch her grandfather cook. Maybe it was that certain thrill of knowing that, at any moment, her grandmother would burst in and express her discontent with his methods or maybe it was the laughter she knew would ensue the moment all of the potatoes he had spent so much time chopping slid off the counter onto the cold, linoleum floor of the kitchen.
"Glad to see I'm entertaining you, Anne," Jed said, his attention still focused on the potatoes.
"I'm a vegetarian now, you know," Annie blurted out.
"I see. I guess that explains your fascination with the potatoes."
"Red meat is gross."
"What about poultry?" Jed questioned.
"Yuck."
"Fish?"
"Yuckier," Annie complained.
"Uh huh. What made you decide this?"
"I was watching the discovery channel the other day."
"Ah, that'll do it," Jed said.
"It's not cool to kill animals."
"Right. So, no turkey for you today, huh?"
"Grandma said she would be happy to make me some vegetable lasagna instead."
Jed chuckled at this.
"I imagine she would be."
"Guess what," Annie said.
"Beats me," Jed replied. "What?"
"Mom's gonna make a big announcement tonight."
"Why do I get the feeling you weren't supposed to tell me that?"
Annie shrugged, the way only a pre-teen can.
"Cause I wasn't."
"Okay. Well, then I suggest we just leave it at that."
"Mmmkay."
Just as Annie had predicted earlier, Abbey burst into the kitchen like the force of nature she was and gasped in horror at the sight of her husband.
"Jed!" She exclaimed, rushing towards him. "Please tell me I don't see you peeling those potatoes with a knife."
"Okay," Jed replied, calmly. "You don't see me peeling these potatoes with a knife."
Muttering unpleasant obscenities under her breath, Abbey began rummaging through various drawers until she found the potato peeler.
"Here." She handed it to him.
"What's this?" He asked.
"It's a shotgun, I want you to go out and shoot us a big, fat turkey."
Both Jed and Annie stared at her for beat.
"It's a potato peeler! You two are incredible."
Jed reluctantly took the 'shotgun' from her and replaced the knife.
"Annie here says you're making her vegetable lasagna. Is this true?"
"Oh. Yeah. Why?" Abbey asked.
"Because you better get crackin', woman, it's almost 1 o'clock."
Annie giggled quietly, the volume rising when she noticed the look on her grandmother's face.
"Don't test me, Bartlet."
"That's President Bartlet to you, FLOTUS," Jed replied, smugly.
"What did you just call me?"
"FLOTUS."
"Make sure it doesn't happen again," Abbey demanded.
"Agreed."
The glint in his eyes told her that she could expect to hear that title again if not often.
"Thank you, POTUS." He winced himself this time.
"I'm not so fond of that one, dear." She patted her husband's shoulder sympathetically.
"Get used to it, babe. You're gonna be hearing that title over and over and over for a few years."
He groaned miserably. "God, what a dorky anagram."
"But could it have a more fitting recipient?" She smirked and pried the potato from his hand soundly. "You're not skinning a squirrel, Jed, you're peeling a potato."
"Eww," shuddered Annie from behind them.
"Sorry, sweetheart. This vegetarianism thing is gonna take some getting used to."
"Okay," she muttered, "I guess." She shivered again with a peaked look on her face.
"You're so evil," Jed told Abbey in a stage whisper. Still, he reached out and touched her wrist lightly.
She smiled at him. "And yet you still want me."
"I could never not want you. Your very presence -- your very scent sends chills to my nerve endings."
"Sharp chills," she inquired.
"Oh, yes. Sharp, pleasurable chills."
She cleared her throat and stifled a childish giggle. They were actually talking like this well within the hearing of their granddaughter. It was ridiculous, but it felt invigorating. "Well, Mr. President-elect, would you be so kind as to give me slice of celery to snack on?
"Of course." He plucked a tiny C from the pile and held it to her lips. She parted them and he dropped it in promptly, ceasing suddenly as she caressed his fingers. "Enjoy it?"
Her eyes green as a passion fire, she nodded. "Yeah."
He exhaled falteringly. "Me too."
Annie looked everywhere except her grandparents and mumbled, "Oh man, I didn't."
Liz and Doug sat together on the loveseat across from the future White House staffers. They had all been engaging in an interesting conversation, for the most part. Toby's occasional interjections, however, were excruciatingly painful. Days earlier, Andi had requested a divorce from him, a dissolution of their marriage. Needless to say, he wasn't taking it at all well. Every comment out of his mouth was either overly morbid or overly positive and thus, overly out of character for Toby. Nobody dared to complain, as they felt Toby had every right to be out of character.
However, it is not to be denied that Liz was grateful when her clunky 90s-style cellular phone sounded its ever-shrill ring.
"Excuse me," Liz whispered, removing herself from the room in order to get some privacy.
"Hello?"
"Liz, it's me." Zoey's voice flooded the other line.
"Zoey!"
"Guess where I'm not."
"I don't have to," Liz said. "Where the hell are you?"
"I'm at Ally's house. She's having a party. Listen, I just wanted to let you know so you could cover for me with Mom and Dad."
"You are delusional, little sister. Absolutely out of your mind."
"What!" Zoey asked.
"You think I'm covering for you? You're crazy! If Ellie and I have to be here,
you damn well do too."
"Come on, Liz. Just this once."
"Where does Ally live?" Liz questioned.
"No!"
"You have two choices. You tell me where Ally lives and I come get you, or I walk right into the kitchen and tell Mom and Dad that you snuck out of the house. Up to you."
Liz waited as silence saturated the line between them.
"32 Christopher Drive," Zoey stated finally.
"What?"
"Ally lives at 32 Christopher Drive."
"Good. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
Liz hit the end button on her phone and dropped it back into her purse.
"ANNIE!" She shouted.
Back in the kitchen, Annie was more than grateful for an excuse to depart from her shamelessly flirting grandparents. She hopped off the counter and jogged into the hall where her mother stood waiting for her.
"You're a life saver," Annie said.
"Why?"
"Grandpa and Grandpa were doing the thing where they...you know..."
"Ah. I know it well, child. Be thankful I got you out of there in time," Liz said.
"Oh, I am. So what's up?"
"I need you to keep this on the low-down."
"Down-low," Annie corrected her.
"Whatever. Keep it quiet. Your aunt Zoey snuck out of the house earlier, and I have to go pick her up at her friend's house. Just tell everyone I...left the stove on or something."
"Okay."
"Not a word of truth is to come out of your mouth, Annie," Liz instructed.
"Wow, don't think I'll be hearing that again any time soon, so I'm not gonna argue."
"That's my girl." She kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you later, hon."
"Take it from me. It's not the end of the world."
Toby looked up at Sam, his eyes expressing all the incredulity humanly possible.
"I'm just saying, you'll recover. I did."
"You and Lisa were engaged, Sam. I was married to Andi."
Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then leaned in to talk to Toby in a more hushed tone.
"It's not like there's gonna be time for romance when we're in the White House anyway."
"You know, upbeat as that is, it's just not doing the trick," Toby replied.
"Don't think I don't know what you're going through, 'cause I do. It took me months to get over Lisa."
"You mean you're actually over her?"
"Well, no. But I've progressed significantly. Look, Toby, you're gonna be so busy after Inauguration, you're not even going to be able to see straight, let alone think about Andi. At least you won't be moping around, mourning the death of your marriage. You'll be busy."
"Yeah."
"You want another drink?" Sam asked.
"Do you really have to ask?"
"Right." Sam reached over and grabbed Toby's empty glass. "I'll be right back."
Still standing in the kitchen, Abbey and Jed fully realized that they were alone. No staffers, no children, and no newly vegetarian granddaughter. Just them, and celery and other addictive, possibly erotic fixings.
"So, the potatoes? They're peeled."
Abbey looked down and found that there was now a pile of freshly skinned potatoes piled neatly at the center of the counter. She was now holding a potato peeler and a stalk of celery.
"I don't wanna speculate but something isn't quite right about that."
"Shut up."
"Nah, we can't banter if I'm quiet."
"Banter, huh?" He started fiddling with a couple of peppers, juggling them amateurishly. Just as one was about to take a bruising fall to the floor, she caught it in a crouch and snagged the other from his grasp. "Darling, more banter, less touching."
His eyebrows went up and he moved a little closer.
"Less touching? You mean, less of this."
He rested his hands on her shoulders and began to stroke the pads of his thumbs against her bare neckline.
Josh Lyman immediately regretted following them.
She pursed her lips and leaned into the brief contact. "Well, not so much less of that, but less of touching the fragile vegetables and such, hmm?"
He pulled her back against him slid his hands down from her shoulders, over her breasts to wrap around her waist. "Only if I can touch a few things that aren't fragile vegetables."
She looked at him sideways with a naughty smile. "That depends. Are we talking about the potatoes or something better?"
"I don't know, the potatoes are pretty sexy."
Standing outside the swinging kitchen door, Josh stared straight ahead, his eyes widened in horror.
She pushed her hips back until they met his. He pushed his forward, painfully enduring the delightful friction it caused. "I know some other potatoes I wouldn't mind you handling right now."
"Really? Why don't you turn around and let me take a look?"
'Oh, no,' Josh thought to himself. 'Walk away now, Lyman. Just walk away.'
"Mmkay."
She turned slowly and leaned back against the counter with a come hither air about her. He placed his hands on either side of her, trapping her between marble and a hard thing. She didn't mind. In fact, she entwined her leg with his, urging him to fall against her in a sensual entanglement of limbs and lips.
Her hand rubbed the warm skin above his collar as he bit the blushing flesh
beneath hers. She could see out the kitchen window over the acres they called
home and as the tingling flame of his touch spread, she lost herself in that.
She came back when he with a brute and lustful force lifted her onto the counter
and kissed her like they were virgins on their wedding night.
'Why?' Josh asked himself, clearly distressed. Why had he not walked away while he was still left unscarred?
Her mouth tasted of celery and his of morning coffee and mouthwash. He cradled her ass in his hands, encouraging her to tighten her legs around his waist and bringing two crucial parts of their anatomy together with only the clothes between them.
If they continued on this path, the ending was inevitable and Abbey wasn't have her inevitable here. So, regretfully she began to disentangle herself from him.
"Babe?" He still kissed her and she kissed him back, but had to pull herself away again. "Babe, we gotta stop or you know something will happen and I want to save that for later."
He pulled back and looked at her suspiciously. "Later?"
She pulled him back to her tightly. "Later."
Josh lifted his arms high above his head and turned his eyes up to the heavens. 'Hallelujah.' He took that opportunity to flee the vicinity and ask God to erase that particular memory from his brain.
"So how's school?" CJ asked, genuinely curious.
"It's good," Ellie replied, taking a sip from her glass of brandy. "Looking forward to graduation."
"Of course. Have you decided where you're going to for grad school yet?"
"I'm thinking Harvard Med, like my mom."
"Great school," CJ said.
"Yeah..."
"But?"
"But, I really like Johns Hopkins," Ellie admitted.
"I hear that has one of the best medical schools in the country."
"It does. But I know Mom really wants me to go to Harvard. Dad likes the idea of Johns Hopkins because it's closer to Washington."
"That sounds like your dad all right."
"He's already decided he's making Zoey go to Georgetown when her time rolls around," Ellie said. "He wants to keep her close."
"Any father would want that."
"So, what about you? Ready to start working in the White House?"
"Oh, God, no," CJ said, laughing. "I feel so unprepared."
"You'll be fine."
"I go from working PR in California to being one of the president's top aides.
It's going to be surreal for awhile."
"I hear you," Ellie agreed. "I don't think I'm gonna be a huge fan of being First Daughter myself. I'm not much good, socially. I'm not really a people person. Well, I am. I love people, I'm just not very...outgoing."
"I know."
"Not like Zoey and Liz."
"There are lots of ways to stay out of the spotlight, you know."
"Yeah," Ellie said, softly.
"You'll never escape it completely, but you can certainly keep your distance to a certain extent," CJ stated.
"I know."
"Hey." CJ grinned. "I'll be there to help you through it, if you're there to help me."
Ellie smiled brightly in return.
"You've got yourself a deal."
After retrieving her youngest sister from Ally's basement, Liz forced her into
the car and drove home using unmitigated speed. Legality was not an issue. She
knew every cop in Manchester, a privilege that came with being the governor's
daughter, and there wasn't a single man in uniform who wouldn't let Elizabeth
Bartlet Westin get away with murder. When they reached the farm, Liz pulled
Zoey out of the car and dragged her up the porch steps and into the house.
Thankful that no one was in the hallway to see them, she directed Zoey toward
the stairs and gestured for her to ascend them quickly.
"If you can change and be back down here in three minutes, I'll make this our little secret. Understood?"
Zoey nodded without hesitation and bounded up with stairs rapidly. Liz returned to the living room just as her parents walked in, grinning proudly.
"Dinner's ready"
