Author's Notes:

Thus far, the angsty memories have either triggered Danny or CJ. This one deviates from that insofar as the same memory triggers them both, albeit a little differently (as you will ee in part two). Plus there's a third party with an opinion of their own about what's going on.

Bartlet Family Farm, New Hampshire
Saturday, May 17th, 2008
The Stables 7pm

"None of this is personal, CJ! "

A horse behind her whinnied, making her jump.

"Don't raise your voice at me."

"Look, I know you're frustrated, but I need you to dial back all of this male energy."

"Male energy? "

"This is what happens when you go all chief of staff. Sometimes I can handle it, sometimes I can't. Today, and especially here, I can't."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"At this point I don't know if you're showing off for Bartlet, or if it's just easy to slip into that persona when you're around him .."

"That's below the belt, even for you," she snarled as she paced up and down.

"You're right."

Danny leaned his head against one of the stalls. They'd been circling each other like cats on a hot tin roof for over a week at this point, and it was a nightmare scenario to have things come to a head while they were at the Bartlet farm to discuss plans for a new book.

"But you can't keep reacting this way or this," he gestured between them, "is not gonna work."

"Well there's some useful information," she snapped as she crossed her arms against her chest.

Danny ignored the dig and walked up to her.

"CJ .."

She shrugged off his touch and immediately regretted it, because he took several steps back and fixed her with the patented icy stare that never left any doubt in her mind about how serious he was about what was being discussed.

When he spoke again his voice was neither warm nor particularly emotional.

"Okay. You're either getting cold feet or it's something else. If it's cold feet, we're in time to stop the purchase of the house. I'll call Maggie, split the loss of the deposit with you, we'll call it a day. But if something else is going on, I need you to talk to me. And if you can't, or won't, then maybe we need to call it a day anyway. Because we are not going back to what you just pulled at dinner."

The Kitchen 7.15pm

"Well, you brought it up," Abbey said.

"How was I supposed to know there was something going on?" Jed retorted as he rinsed off a plate and handed it to her.

"You couldn't tell that there was something going on the moment they got out of the car yesterday? Or any time between then and tonight?"

"No."

"You used to be much better at reading people, Jed."

He sighed and handed her another plate.

"I see the Washington Post is up to its old tricks," Jed said good naturedly as he refreshed the younger man's water glass. "What's the count so far this time?"

"I'm not keeping score," Danny replied carefully as he started to push food around on his plate.

He earned himself a glare from the other end of the table as CJ supplied "three in two weeks. And I'm almost sure they're not done."

"They had some strong opinions in the last one," Jed continued. "Vinick's getting some good press over the handling of the situation in Khazakstan. Josh, on the other hand .."

"Is being portrayed as though he's capitulating to the Republicans," CJ interjected angrily, "because some schmuck on the editorial staff decided it would be fun to -"

"Nobody goes into journalism to be popular, CJ," Danny said, as evenly as he could.

"I seem to remember that."

"It's our job to seek the truth and put pressure on our leaders until we get answers. That may not always be good news for the people in office, but it's the job we sign up for. We respect the office of the presidency, but don't worship at the shrines of our public servants. They owe us the truth."

"And the press owes the American people the courtesy of -"

Jed saw Danny give her a look that said ' please drop this' written all over it, but it was abundantly clear that she was gearing up to say something scathing so he decided to intervene.

"Cut the man some slack, CJ. He's not guilty by association."

Danny shot him a grateful look, took a breath, and tried for levity.

"At least they stuck to Khazakstan and didn't mention the party bus."

"How lucky for you .." CJ said acerbically.

The first indication that things were escalating was the way Danny drained his wine glass. Abbey was the first to notice, and she reached out for his empty plate. His eyes held an unspoken apology as he stood up.

"Can I help you clear the table, Mrs. Bartlet?"

And there was the second indication. He hadn't called her anything other than Abbey in over a year.

"Maybe they need marriage counselling."

"If you actually want them to get married, I wouldn't suggest you mention that."

"I meant the course, that thing we did. What was it called? Cana? Pre-Cana?"

Abbey rolled her eyes as she said, "you mean the course which prepared us for natural family planning and financial goals, but taught us absolutely nothing about conflict resolution?"

"That's the one."

Abbey rolled her eyes again as she said, "there should have been more focus on conflict resolution."

"I think we did fine."

"The only real conflict resolution that ever worked was me witholding sex, Jed."

He laughed heartily at that, and passed her another plate.

"Don't people do that any more?"

"Withold sex? "

"Take the course, Abbey!"

"What makes you think they'll get married in church? Or that they'll even get married at all?"

"Isn't Danny Catholic?" He gave her a somewhat stricken look. "Don't they want to have children?"

"I have no idea, and I'm not asking, eithe - what's funny? " she asked as he suddenly put down the scrubber and started to laugh.

"We could save them a lot of grief down the road by telling them what's going on."

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember the night your father told us that there'd be one argument that we kept circling back to, and -"

"We laughed about it because we thought we'd never fall into that trap?"

"Yes. And do you remember how shocked we were when we realized that we were no different than other couples?"

Abbey snorted her "yes."

"We really could save them a lot of grief by making them aware."

"And you're positive this is their recurring argument?"

"If it isn't already it's on its way to becoming the one, based on the performance at dinner. I've seen this before."

"Mr. President, the Post would like access for Danny Concannon to do a three part feature inside the Oval Office."

"Yeah, let's do it."

"No, I don't think it's a good idea, sir."

"Why not?"

"Sir, after the editorials they've run .."

"Yeah, they've been way off base. Not so much the second one. But the first, third and fourth were silly. And the fourth was mean spirited."

"Exactly, so let's send them a message."

"Nah."

"Sir."

"First of all, it wasn't Danny."

"Danny is their representative. We have to stop being a punching bag and they need a wake up call."

"Nah. It's going to look petty and petulant. You know why?"

"Sir?"

"Because it's petty and petulant."

"Nobody elected this newspaper. Certainly not the forty-eight million people who chose you to be President."

"Yeah, but not having to run for anything tends to help with honesty and decisiveness."

He looked up as Charlie approached the desk.

"Thanks, Charlie. Send Danny in, would you please?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. President, you have to send them a message."

"I really don't, C.J. Is this personal?"

"Excuse me?"

"I hear things, I don't understand most of it, but I hear it."

"No, sir, it's absolutely not personal."

"It was personal, and Danny spent a lot of time in the doghouse in those first few years for doing his job," Jed added at the end of his retell. "So .. what do you think?"

"That you're being very presumptuous in assuming that they don't have their own way of dealing with things?"

"That really came across at dinner," Jed said sardonically. "How long did it take us to figure it out, much less do something about it?"

"Seventeen years."

"More like twenty-two, Abbey. Their future children will thank us."

"Heaven knows we're never going to be able to make it up to ours!"

"Or have this conversation with them."

"Well," Abbey said she looked out the kitchen window, "whatever they were doing out in the stables didn't go well. Danny's heading back this way with a face like thunder. So if you're going to meddle, the time would be now."

"Him or her?"

"This is a jackass to jackass conversation."

He tossed her the scrubber as he said, "okay."

"Jed .." she called after him.

"Yeah?"

"Wear a jacket. And maybe a jockstrap?"

The Stables 7.25pm

CJ scratched at the dirt on the floor with the tip of her shoe as she mulled over Danny's words and bristled at the thought of having been potentially given an ultimatum. A scuffling sound to her right sent her mind into a tailspin, and she relaxed only fractionally when she realized it was Jed Bartlet and not a snake.

"What's doing, Claudia Jean?"

Her hackles rose even before he'd finished his sentence, because she knew enough about him to recognize an opening gambit for a conversation that was bound to be awkward.

"That sounds like an awfully familiar phrase, Sir."

"I'll get straight to the point then. Are you and Danny having challenges?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You and Danny. I couldn't help but notice some tension over dinner."

The words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could frame a non-confrontational sentence.

"You once told me, standing right here, that you didn't want me to be a marriage counsellor because that part of your life didn't belong to me."

Maybe Abbey had been right about the jockstrap, Jed thought as he put his hands into his pockets.

"Yes I did."

"I'd ask you to extend the same courtesy to me now, Sir."

"I didn't come here to lecture you, CJ."

"That's good."

"I'm here to ask what's going on."

"Really?"

"Not really, no."

CJ stared at him in disbelief and then pinched the bridge of her nose and laughed, in spite of herself.

"Danny thinks I take the editorials too personally."

"You always did," he said with a smile as he moved a little closer. "CJ, there's always something that we hold onto. Like a scab that we keep picking at, regardless of whether it relates to the matter at hand or not. This is what I can tell you after forty plus years of marriage. Often the content of the argument is a cover for a more fundamental difference."

"You don't say .."

"And it all seems to boil down to four main issues," he continued, with eyebrows slightly raised at the interruption. "A perceived imbalance of power or lack of reciprocity, lack or loss of trust, lack or loss of respect, and lack of understanding about differing needs for space and independence."

CJ shifted from one foot to the other, feeling more than a little irritated.

She wasn't about to tell him the real reason the editorials triggered her. She wasn't even sure Danny understood the various layers associated with that night in the oval office, and was mulling over why this memory hadn't made it onto the list, when she realized that Jed was still talking.

"Wires get crossed, we hold onto things longer than we should. And, if you don't identify the root cause, new versions of the argument spring up and blindside you."

"I know."

"Okay."

CJ ran her hands up and down her arms, suddenly aware that it was chilly.

"We should head back to the house. Can I interest you in a scotch, now that I've dispensed enough wisdom for one night?"

"That .. sounds wonderful," she replied as she fell into step next to him.

A few minutes later she was standing in his study, savouring the slow and steady burn of an exceptional single malt. "So what, if you don't mind me asking, was your protracted argument?"

"Something that happened before we got married. And it had nothing to do with Ron Ehrlich .. in case you're wondering."

He earned himself a smile for that.

A tap on the door made them both turn their heads towards it.

"Hey Danny .." Jed said with a smile.

"Mrs. Bartlet asked if you could come by the kitchen .."

Jed emptied his glass and put it down.

"Duty calls. Excuse me," he said as he bypassed Danny on the way out. "Help yourself to some scotch."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Hi .." CJ said when they were alone.

"Hi."

They stared at one another for a moment, and then Danny stepped forward.

"I'm sorry."

"I was out of line, too, but you were right .."

"We need to talk?"

"Yeah."

Author's Note:

There are a few lines in here which are adapted quotes from Helen Thomas - an American reporter who worked for the Hearst News Service, as a dean of the White House press corps, as a White House correspondent, and a King Features Syndicate columnist. She covered nine presidents, which earned her the moniker The First Lady of the Press . For forty years she ended practically every presidential press conference with Thank you, Mister President. The George W. Bush administration put an end to that tradition in 2003.