CJ/Danny/others. R-rated
Spoilers: through "Institutional Memory".
The characters belong to Sorkin, Wells, et. al. I had to make some assumptions about Danny's sister. I don't proclaim them as part of the canon.
Feedback welcomed.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the nicest Saturday in a really long time.
Two previous times that morning she had awakened, starting at 5:00, only to turn over, burrow down into the dark warmth of the covers, closer to her man, breathing in the smell of him, of their lovemaking, of the steam heat of the older building. Finally, at 7:30, she gave into the regimen of the past eight years, got up, pulled on some sweatpants and slippers, pulled her hair back into a stretchie, and ambled into the kitchen. She pulled out her phone and called Debbie, asking her to have the President call her at his convenience. Thirty seconds later, Abbey Bartlet was returning her call. She explained the situation to Mrs. Bartlet, who immediately told her not to worry, she would see to it that her husband would not bother her unless absolutely necessary. Jokingly, the First Lady told her that if her phone did ring, to stop off at a church and go to confession before coming in, because the world would be coming to an end.
She rummaged around the kitchen, trying to find something suitable for breakfast. Surprisingly (but, then, everything about Danny was surprising), there were eggs, fresh milk, butter, bread, even a spice tin of cinnamon. If only he had syrup, she could make french toast. Then, spying the jar of raspberry preserves, she figured she could mix some with water, put it in the microwave, and -- voila! -- breakfast. As the bread was soaking in the egg mix, she started a pot of coffee and popped her pill. Hearing stirring sounds coming from the bedroom, she poured two cups of coffee, added milk to hers, and carried them to the bed.
They ate breakfast. He made some comment about her purple sweatpants with the bright green pajama top and she told him that she couldn't stand it when her bare skin stuck to wood or plastic. They read the paper, lying on opposite ends of the couch. They played paper, rock, scissors for the right to work the Sudoku (he won).
They made gentle love in the sunlit bedroom. Afterwards, he asked her what kind of hotel or such she would like for their first week or so in California. She told him that she really wanted the solitude of someplace like the island in the ocean off Australia where Rachel Ward and Richard Chamberlain did their thing in The Thorn Birds, but she also wanted housekeeping and room service. He told her that he didn't think it existed, but he would check with the Australian Embassy.
His sister had called later last night and said that she and her husband were flying in -- they found someone to take care of the girls and as a pilot for Aer Lingus, he was able to get standby seats from Shannon to Dulles rather easily. After lunch, she would go home for a few hours, get a nice dinner dress, and whatever else she would need to at least get herself to work Monday morning.
They showered together, got dressed, and had lunch in a small cafe, and then split up for the rest of the afternoon. She would be back by 7:00 or so in time to make their 8:00 reservations. He was going to stop by GU to see an old classmate who was now teaching there.
On the way to her place, she spotted a church and felt an overwhelming urge to stop in, and let her driver and detail know. She went up to the statue of the Virgin, an icon in the Polish/Russian style, and lit a candle. "Please help me to do this right, "she prayed. She lit another candle for her parents, the mother who was already in heaven and the father whose mind was there but whose body still lingered. Other people started coming in, Mass was starting, and she decided to stay. The entrance hymn was one they had sung at Hogan's Confirmation, and she felt as if the second stanza was speaking to her directly:
" Radiant risen from the water, robed in holiness and light, male and female in God's image, male and female, God's delight"
But the third verse was definitely some sort of answer to her prayer:
"Trust the goodness of creation; trust the Spirit strong within. Dare to dream the vision promised, sprung from seed of what has been."
Once she reached her place, she packed quickly for Sunday and Monday, showered and did her hair and makeup. She spent a long time picking out a dress, shoes, jewelry. She really wanted Danny's family to like her. Okay, the brother-in-law, maybe not so much, but his sister was really important.
And then, at 6:30, her phone rang. It was the President himself. No, it wasn't extremely serious, he swore on his grandchildrens' heads that she would be out of there by 7:30, she could say no and he would understand, but it sort of concerned Leo.
She tried to reach Danny, but his line was busy, so she headed down to the car with her bag and tried again. He picked up on the first ring. The President had also called him directly, had given him the same assurances. They would meet her at the restaurant.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the nicest Saturday in a really long time.
He woke to mingling smells of coffee, her perfume, and his semen. The latter was not just a matter of smell but also one of touch; now that he didn't have to encase himself in latex before joining with her, there were a few tiny spots of crusty residue.The memory of her eyes last night as he took herover the edge three times before giving himself over to it casued him to smile in self-satisfaction. He hadn't felt this good about himself in a long time.As he pushed up on the bed, she brought him coffee and sat crossed legged with him.The green top and purple pants reminded him of Wimbledon, but the black fuzzy slippers really made the outfit. Her hair was haphazardly pulled into some sort of top knot. He thought of all the state occasions he had seen her grace over the past 8 years and knew that she had never appeared more beautiful as she did this morning.
They ate french toast with raspberry jam syrup. They lay at opposite ends of the couch, each with a foot lightly resting on the other's genitals, reading the paper.
He pulled her up and led her back into the bedroom. It was a brilliant winter morning, as only such a morning, with bright blue sky and lots of white snow on the ground, can be. The sun, still low in the sky as it was only 3 weeks or so past the solstice, was coming right into the bedroom window. It lit her all over as she sat there straddling his thighs. He looked up at her, the light glistened off her hair, he thought of Stephen Foster and he knew what his special secret name for her would be.
They talked about California and she talked about Australia. He thought to himself that great, now he had to live up to the image of a movie star, who, whatever his private life was to the contrary, was the ultimate romantic dream guy for a whole generation of women. So much for the self-saisfaction of earlier in the morning.He joked about making love on the beach and said something about sand getting into her bikini bottom; she told him that she didn't wear bikini bottoms,she couldn't stand all that waxing, that her bathing suits had something called "boy shorts" legs. However, they did have low-riding waists and halter tops.
Last night, he pulled every string he could think of and finally got a table at one of the nicest, highest profile restaurants in town. Tonight would be more than introducing CJ to his family; it would be their first really public appearance together in a town where they were both very well known. He better get his grey suit to the one-hour cleaners; hell, he better stop at the barber shop for trims for his hair and his beard. An email arrived from the local Aer Lingus office; his sister and brother-in-law would be staying in a hotel in the same general area as the restaurant.
They walked the streets of Georgetown, holding hands in public for the first time. They ate lunch in a small place and ran into only 3 or 4 aquaintances. Then she left with her detail and he dealt with his suit and his grooming.
He went to see his old Notre Dame buddy, catching up and teasing him about deserting the Holy Cross fathers by becoming a Jesuit. Tim's phone rang; could he fill in at the chapel for the priest who got violently ill while vesting for Mass? He couldn't refuse the invitation to join him; this would be the first time he would see Tim preside.
He slipped easily into the ritual. He prayed for the wisdom to do the right things to keep the woman he had waited for so long in his life. The recessional hymn was a modernization of an old revival hymn and he thought that the second chorus was God's response to his prayer:
"No storm can shake my inmost calm While to that rock I'm clinging;
Since love is lord of Heav'n and earth,
How can I keep from singing?"
His love for her was his rock.
He picked up his suit from the cleaners and went home. Feeling a little like the subject of a "Queer Eye" episode, he showered, put on some cologne, and got dressed. Luckily, the barber had shaved him so he didn't have to worry about knicks and what direction in which to shave. Also, they guy had already put "product" on his hair. CJ called and said she planned to be there by 7:00. He called the Post's travel editor and asked for some information on places to stay in California. Then he logged onto the netand did some research of his own.
At 6:35 his phone rang. President Bartlet was totally apologetic. Lord Marbury had picked up some horrible bug while trying to keep the Indian sub-continent at bay at the start of the Khazakhstani crisis and had just been released from the hospital last week. He had missed Leo's funeral and wanted to meet with everyone to share his grief and sympathies. If Danny didn't have to deal with his family, he would have been invited also. Did he mind? Then the First Lady grabbed the phone and reassured Danny that she would get CJ out of the White House as quickly as possible. And that she was sending over something to make it up to him.
He reassured CJ when she called, arranged for a cab to pick him up at 7:15, and did a little more research.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the nicest Saturday in a really long time.
Erin MacDonald was sitting in the restaurant with her brother and her husband, awaiting the arrival of the fourth person in their party. Her kids were with Robin's sister on a junket to Scotland, some sort of munro bagging, whatever that was. By sheer luck, their standby seats from Shannon had been in first class with all the perks, and Robin had managed to get them comped into a very nice room. On the trip over, Robin had to wear his pilot's uniform in order to get the free fares, but his navy suit suited him much better.
The room was filled with many faces she recognized from TV and newspapers, and so many of those faces came to their table to speak with her brother, to congratulate him, to wish him well, both with his writing and with his love life. She had been introduced to Vice-President Russell, to the publisher of the Washington Post, to senators, to congressional representatives, to cabinet members.
Her brother's cell rang and he grimaced slightly as he answered it. "Yes, ma'am, I understand. " Pause. "Your husband talked too long in the Sit Room about some arcane bit of trivia and is a jackass." Pause. "You will have my girlfriend here in less than 15 minutes. May I speak with her? Thanks, Abbey." Her baby brother was calling the First Lady by her first name? Then he was speaking again. "Listen, if Her Majesty's ambassador to the United States starts acting as he often does, you make damn sure that it's the First Lady's rack he's grabbing, not yours." Then, apparently realizing where he was and with whom, he blushed and said, "We'll be here when you get here", and hung up.
He looked so nice, so handsome, so happy as more people came by the table. Then, two men in dark suits entered the restaurant, walked around the room and came to stand against pillars near their table. One of them spoke into his wrist.
Erin had seen her many times on TV because she watched the briefings for a sight of her brother. She handed her coat to the maitre d' and looked in the direction of his gesture. As she walked toward the table, her brother rose, and his face lit up so brightly. She nudged Robin to stand also. The woman looked taller and thinner than she did on TV. She was wearing a burgundy wool wrap dress with matching heels. People tried to stop her as she made her way to the table and she was polite, but she never stopped and never really took her eyes from her brother's face. She glowed; that was the only way to describe it. As the woman drew closer, she could see only simple gold jewelry, a pin in the shape of a goldfish, some small hoop earrings, a watch. When she reached the table, she and Danny kissed lightly. Then she turned to them, held out a hand to each of them and said "I'm so very sorry for being late. I'm CJ. I can't tell you how glad I am to meet you."
The meal was wonderful. Wine flowed freely. Conversation was easy and natural. And all the while, CJ's eyes never really left her brother's face. More people came up to talk with them, to shake his hand, to kiss her cheek, and to be introduced to her and Robin. She met Senator Vinnick. She even met Justice Mendoza. There was a slight sense of underplay when former Vice-President Hoynes stopped by briefly as he left the room, but that was quickly overshadowed by the arrival of a half-dozen more men in black talking into their wrists. She heard one of them say "Send bookbag through."
President Bartlet's youngest daughter came into the restaurant, followed by a very tall handsome young black man. She spied them and immediately came to their table. They were introduced to Zoey and to Charlie Young. Zoey kissed both CJ and Danny. Charley kissed CJ, saying "Nice going, boss lady" and shook Danny's hand. "Fine lookin' woman you got there." Zoey told them she was happy for them for more than one reason. "Dad's so happy, it's taken some of the pressure off of me. We've been a little out of sorts since he caught Charlie leaving my room last summ--", she broke off suddenly. "Don't worry, Danny laughed, "you're not on record. Besides, I feel a little responsible for the two of you anyway, since I gave Charlie expert dating advice, so even if you were, I didn't hear what I just heard. By the way, Charlie, congrats on law school." "Yeah", the young man replied,"I'll be an impoverished student in he fall. After tonight, when I treat my lady to a fancy meal, it'll be when I put cornflakes on top of the Kraft mac and cheese and put it in the oven instead of serving it right out of the sauce pan". As they were leaving for their table, Zoey handed Danny a box. "Mom said that although it's for CJ, it's really for you. It's a special garment for barbequing."
Robin excused himself and went to speak to the maitre d'. They had decided to get the bill for this dinner and although it would probably run well above $600, they still intended to do so. However, she saw that the man was shaking his head at her husband.
When Danny asked to sign for the meal, the maitre d' came over and handed Danny a thick piece of stationery. He opened it, read it, and handed it to CJ. Even if Erin hadn't really wanted to snoop, it was hard to miss the Texas state seal and the bold black lettering.
"The President reminded me that he still has the planes and also that presidents need to heed Lord Acton's warning.
And my wife called me an idiot; she's usually right about these things.
Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Matt Santos".
As they left the restaurant, they made plans to meet tomorrow for brunch. She kissed her brother and then she kissed the woman that she hoped just might become her sister-in-law.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the nicest Saturday in a really long time.
He carried her bag up the stairs, she carried the box from the First Lady. As soon as her detail checked out the apartment, he took off his jacket and tie, undid his cufflinks, kicked off his shoes. They opened the box together. It was, as expected, lingerie. He told her to go change into it. While she was gone, he poured out two brandies. He wished he had thought to lay a fire before he left earlier that evening.
She came back into the room, shyer than he had ever seen her before. She was literally breath-taking. It was full-length, midnight blue silk, toga style. It was little more than a sheet, really. There were little buttons holding the open side together under her left arm down to her hip, but the rest of that side was open. If he pulled on the bow that fastened over her left shoulder, the entire thing would fall at her feet.
They sipped their brandy. Then he took the glass from her hand and led her to the couch. For the first time, he regretted her height. He wished she were short enough that if he pulled her into his lap, her head would fit into his shoulder, instead of his head fitting smack into her boobs (not that he minded having his head there). Instead he sat her down beside him and began to kiss her. Light kisses, kisses on her eyes, her ears, her nose, all over her face. Kisses on her shoulders, on her neck, kisses down her arms, kisses on each of her fingers, kisses on each of her palms.
It was the nicest Saturday in a really long time. And he prayed to God, he prayed to the celtic deities of his ancestry, he prayed to every god or goddess of love in every mythology he had ever heard of, he asked all the men in heaven who had ever loved a woman as he loved this one to pray for him, that it still would be so after the next minute.
He took her face between his hands and gently told her that he couldn't bear the pain and the glimpse of fear in her eyes anymore, and that that was the only reason he was telling her that he knew about her and Hoynes.
She literally deflated, her shoulders fell. The embarassment overwhelmed her eyes. She didn't cry. But neither did she shut up. She talked and talked and talked about how it was the only thing she had done with a man that left her ashamed. She babbled on and on about how, even in her wildest days, she never took another girl's guy, she was never with more than one guy at a time, she never slept with a guy without proof that she wasn't pregnant from the last one. She stood up as she continued to talk, to apologize over and over. He stood up with her, held her. He kept stroking her hair, crooning, begging, "Jeanie, Jeanie, Jeanie, don't, we don't ever have to talk about it again. Only Steve and Mark and Katie know and they won't say anything, won't write anything, Jeanie. He didn't put it in his book, he didn't mention it during the campaign when the other stuff all came out. Jeanie, Jeanie, Jeanie, in my gut I don't think it will ever come out. He knows that you got him the counsel position with Santos and thanks you for it, I could feel it tonight. I love you, Jeanie, Jeanie, Jeanie." He considered swatting her ass to get her attention but didn't want to do anything that might even hint at recrimination. Finally, he remembered what shut her up 7 years ago, grabbed the back of her head, and kissed her mouth until she was quiet and calm.
They sat down again, this time with her feet tucked under her and her body on enough of a slant so that her head did fit into his shoulder.
"Jeanie?", she asked, "Where did that come from?" And he began to sing "I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair". He told her, "This morning, in the sunlight, it just seemed to suit you. Do you mind? It'll be just between us."
And they talked. She told him of the wonderful things that Lord Marbury had said about Leo. Right as she was leaving, Helen Santos came in with Donna and he said that while he was saddened that the Lord was taking away Abbey, he was gladdened to see that the Lord saw fit to provide a suitable replacement. He told her of what he had found out so far about California. The places right on the ocean near LA and San Diego were pretty much all attached suites. There were some separate bungalow-type places near Big Sur and up near the Russian River, but the weather wasn't exactly warm up there. There were some hotel/spa places in the desert. There was one place in the hills around San Diego with private bungalow-type places. Each cottage had its own terrace with both a hot tub and a kind of mini pool about 9 by 12 by 4 feet deep, you couldn't really swim in it but you could sit in the cool water, float aroundor do other things. The staff would do room service or there was a mini-kichenette and they would bring things to you if you wanted to cook for yourself. She liked the sound of that. Neither said anything about their religious interludes. He talked about maybe going out a day or two before her. He could talk with his publishers and the editors and get that part out of the way so there would be nothing between them and relaxation after the 20th. She did some counting on her fingers and swore. When he asked her what was wrong, she said that the pills Millie prescribed for her were the 3 week on, 1 week off kind, and with this being day 11 and with 12 days left until she was no longer COS... He laughed and told her that he thought he could survive. She told him that she didn't know if she could.
All of a sudden, she started shaking and sobbing. All he could do was hold her. After about 30 seconds, it stopped. "What was that about?", he asked. She said that it hit her how close she had come to not coming to see him two nights ago. There was a song, a kind of one-hit wonder thing about 15 years ago, the lyrics were really trite and dumb, but she sometimes feared that one part might describe her future
"I've been to Nice and the isles of Greece while I've sipped champagne on a yacht
I moved like Harlow in 'Monte Carlo' and showed 'em what I've got.
I've been undressed by kings and I've seen some things that a woman ain't s'posed to see
I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me."
"I'm just so glad you never gave up on me", she said.
"CJ", he replied, " this isn't really a very good analogy but did you ever read Kazantzakis' Last Temptation of Christ?"
"I saw the movie", she replied, "but the book was so ...disturbing., I could never move than 1/3 of the way thorugh it."
"Well, just like Satan was going to try absolutely anything and everything, up to the last possible picosecond, to keep Christ from dying for us, I was not going to give up on you. EVER."
"Me as Christ and you as Satan," she sniffed, "shouldn't the roles be reversed?"
This time, he did swat her ass, playfully. They finished their brandy and went to the bedroom, where he pulled at the bow.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Sing a New Church" -- Sr. Delores Dufner, OSB
"How Can I Keep from Singing" -- original version Robert Lowery
"Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely"
-- John Emerich Edward Dalberg-Acton, 1st Baron Acton
"Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair" -- Stephen Foster
"I've Never Been to Me" -- Ron Miller