Time Is Relative

CJ/Danny

R to X Rated.

Spoilers through "Tomorrow"

They aren't mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul..

Feedback welcomed

To my knowledge the resort in the San Diego area doesn't exist, but I wish it did exist somewhere.

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It was Groundhog Day evening. They were on the terrace, the remains of the meal ordered from the resort restaurant on the table behind them as they looked over the hills toward the bay and the ocean.

Was it really less than 2 weeks since she had left Washington? It seemed so long ago.

Carol had driven her to the airport, and, taking her coat ("You won't be needing that") and giving her a small carryon bag with some paperback romances and some Godiva ("Margaret says the only thing better than reading smut by the side of the pool is reading smut by the side of the pool while eating chocolate"), she pushed her toward the check-in counter. Her ticket had been upgraded to first class; the agent handed her a note that said "Enjoy! Josh and Sam".

Some 6 hours later she was resisting the urge to break out into a run as she saw him at the baggage claim carousel where her things would be.

Driving down to San Diego, she told him that Franklin Hollis told her not to call him until April 1; what he was proposing was important, but nothing she would be doing with him would have the urgency she had experienced over the last year or so as the President's COS.

Between the jet lag, the sense of relief, and the mild cramping, the first two days were very laid back, and his solicitude for her "condition", as he called it, was totally sweet. Afterwards, they were more active, touring some of the missions, spending some time on (and in) the ocean, played some golf and tennis. On the fifth day, he picked up one of the books that Carol and Margaret had given her. roaring with laughter, he decided that they should act out each of the sex scenes in the book and then start on another one. If they finished all the ones she had ("Fat chance, Fishboy, some of these ladies put them in every 8 pages"), they would buy some more.

The day after tomorrow, they would drive back to LA and move into Sam's place.

Suddenly, he grabbed both her hands in his, kissed her knuckles. "Sweet Lord in heaven, CJ, do you have any conception how much I love you"? He slid onto his knees before her. "Marry me, Jeanie. Take my name, don't take my name, but please take me, take my love, take whatever is in store for us, marry me". He reached into his pocket. "This was my grandmother's. When we get to the city, we'll get you something you want, something like those rings you all were looking at when Ellie was getting married, but wear this until then. Please marry me, CJ". He slipped it on her finger.

Her thoughts tumbled out and around her mind. They had danced around the subject for the past 12 days. Casual questions about houses they passed on the road, questions about education when they passed a group of kids in Catholic school uniforms. Did she want to remain Claudia Jean Cregg after the wedding or did she want to become Claudia Cregg Concannon? She would be who she was, no matter what. She remembered some 20 years ago when one of her senior-year suite-mates was asked the same question in the dorm. "The way I look at it," Alex said, "it depends on the names. I'm tired of being in the middle of the alphabet. I'm moving from Lockwood to Davidson. Now if Luke's name were Wallingford, it might be a different story."

She looked at the white gold ring on her finger. It was a claddagh ring,with a diamond, about 1/3 carat, safely held between the two hands. She remembered the rings in the bridal magazine that the girls had bought to help Will with Ellie's wedding. The one she admired out loud was exquisite. It was a simple emerald cut in a platinum setting, raised high above the band in a tiffany mount, the stone contained in a delicate basket with four prongs, baguettes on the sides of the band. She remembered remarking that it was rare to see an emerald cut that was high enough to accommodate a wedding band fitting flush against the engagement ring, but this one did; there were matching baguettes on the wedding band that ws part of the set. In fact, the illustration had two of them, like ring guards. Now shethought of that ring, with it's stone floating on 4 little prongs a full quarter inch in the air. She imagined that ring as she tried to deal with a laptop and a briefcase or a carryon in an airport. She imagined that ring as she walked in the impoverished sections of Nairobi or Dakar. She imagined that ring as she cared for their child. She looked again at the ring on her finger. This ring had scrubbed floors and washed dishes and survived. This ring could wipe a baby's bottom without scratching delicate skin.

But why was she wasting all this time thinking and analyzing? She needed to answer him! She bent forward and kissed his lips. "Yes, I will marry you. Yes, I will take your name. And, no, this ring is just perfect".

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It was Groundhog Day evening. They were on the terrace, the remains of the meal ordered from the resort restaurant on the table behind them as they looked over the hills toward the bay and the ocean.

Had almost 2 weeks already passed since she arrived? It seemed like yesterday.

He cursed the security measures that kept him from meeting her at the gate. He kept her pulled tight against his side as they waited for her bags.

On the drive down to San Diego, he found himself wishing that they were back in the days before mandatory seat belt use and wishing that he were driving a 1965 Monte Carlo with a bench seat, so he could pull her against him and drive one-handed down the highway.

Between time change and tiredness, she was dead to the world by 6:00 that first night. On the second, she was doubled over the heating pad he had borrowed from the concierge. But on the third night, while still pronouncing herself "unclean", she knelt before him in the overstuffed chair in the bedroom and ministered to him with her hands and her mouth. Other than letting him hold her head to make sure "she was doing it right", she wouldn't let him touch her. "Let me take care of you, Danny. Let me do this for you". Afterward, she got a warm washcloth and a towel, cleaned him up and put her head in his lap.

Two days later, he picked up one of the books and made his impish suggestion and for the next 8 days they intermixed small trips off the grounds with high comedy. He hoped that the husbands and lovers of the women who wrote this stuff enjoyed their ladies' imaginations as much as he did. It was amazing how inventive she could be or wished she could be ("Where's the waterbed and a 2.3 tremor when you need them," she said as they were trying to duplicate sex in a ship cabin on the high seas). They did indeed discover that face down across the table was indeed a nice place for her to be, but the next time, they would remove the food and dishes first even if the couple in the book didn't (and wondered what the housekeeping staff thought the next day). They went riding just to see if it really was possible to do it face to face on horseback and decided that for this one scenario, zippers were not an improvement over medieval bodkins or jerkins or whatever that tied with laces. When they came upon a spanking episode, he refused, but she came back with "In the words of a certain former senior White House correspondent 'Bawk. Bawk, bawk. Bawk, bawk, bawk, bawk, bawk, bawk' " and he grabbed her and actually ended up smacking her a little harder than he intended. She screamed so loudly during the "deflowering" scene that he thought he did indeed hurt her, but she laughed and squeezed a packet of ketchup on the sheet. He felt a microscopic twinge of jealousy toward the guy who was first and was embarrassed and ashamed about it. And it was educational; he never knew that the name of Detroit's NBA team was a verb as well as a noun.

In two days, they would leave this private little Eden. They had talked around the subject, and they were both probably pretty sure where their relationship was heading, but, as is often said and experienced in their lines of work, "assume" is made up of "ass", "u", and "me". He had to ask and wait for her answer and suddenly he wasn't that sure that she would say "yes" now.

He called Erin three days ago and the express package from Ireland arrived this morning. The desk personnel were very good about getting it to him without her knowing. He remembered the day that the women were gathered about the bridal magazine on Margaret's desk and CJ was discussing the intricacies of the bail, the basket, and the gallery (whatever they were) of a particular ring and how much she liked what the designer had crafted and that if she was ever lucky enough to get engaged, that's what she wanted. And he remembered how she flushed when she looked up and saw him in the doorway. Later, he asked Carol to show him the ring she liked. He didn't know much about jewelry, but he knew enough to knowthat this ring would have to be ordered, would take time, could not be found at the local Zales. He wanted to give her the ring of her dreams, but he also wanted to put something on her hand now, to let the world know.

He told her he loved her. He tried to get down onto one knee but slipped and ended up on both of them, sitting back on his heels. Oh, great. He remembered Jason Sehorn on Leno, walking out and sliding onto one knee as graceful as if he were Barishnikov, putting the ring on Angie Harmon's finger as soon as he was beside her feet. He had to fumble in his pocket to get his ring. He asked her to marry him. He asked her to become Mrs. Concannon, oh shit, why did he do that, that wasn't important to him. The ring was all wrong, way too much metal and not nearly enough stone. Why was he blathering on, he was just turning this whole thing into a comedy. One last time "Please marry me CJ".

And immediately she smiled and kissed him and said, "Yes to you, yes to your name, if only because 'C-O' comes before 'C-R, and yes to your grandmother's ring".

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They got the camera and went to the main lobby and had someone take a picture of the two of them, arm in arm with him holding her left hand to his lips, the ring facing out for all to see. They downloaded it to his laptop and emailed it to everyone on his contact list. They emailed it to her laptop and did the same thing, not caring at all about the duplicates. He asked Josh to announce it to the White House press corps.

He pushed the two chaise lounges together and got some some blankets. She made cocoa.They lay next to each other under the star-lit sky.

And they talked. She had arranged for him to see the house she had been renting out for the past 8 years and asked him what he thought. He said that it was a wonderful place but he was a little concerned about the steepness of the street. If a kid's ball ran out of the yard, it could roll down and if the kid went after it and there was traffic...They talked some more and decided that they really did want to be near the ocean if at all possible. She wanted one floor because she wasn't getting any younger and didn't want to deal with steps. He wanted a nursery right next door to their bedroom but he wanted the other bedrooms to be on the other side of the house. She wanted an eat-in kitchen that overlooked the ocean and opened onto a family room but she also wanted a formal dining room for Christmas and Thanksgiving and other occasions and she wanted a formal living room with no TV. He said he always wanted a den or a library for all his books. It would take a while to find such a place or the land to build such a place. Her house had appreciated quite well and maybe it would be best to wait to sell it until after the ceremony for tax purposes. Maybe Sam would let them use his place until everything else clicked together. He asked again about the ring, was she sure? She said that maybe she would like one of the wider bands with some baguettes as a wedding ring and she could wear his grandmother's ring on her right hand after the ceremony, but until then, the ring was staying right where it was. He told her he had sometimes thought about getting married in a kilt. The Concannons were from Galway and the plaid was red with thin blue stripes and a wider yellow one. She told him that she liked his knees and as long as it came off at the end of the day, it was fine by her. She wondered if the groundhog had seen his shadow. He got all Bartlet on her and started talking about how Groundhog Day was just about half way between the winter solstice and the vernal equinox and how their celtic ancestors called it Imbolc and it was a feast of returning light and hope and the church took it over as Candlemas. She remembered that the next day was St. Blase's feast and told him how she had always managed in the past 8 years or more to make it to church that day to get her throat blessed, being how talking was her job, and could they find a church tomorrow? He told her that even though he hadn't been "practicing" in a long time, he always got ashes on Ash Wednesday. They started opening up to each other about the things they had experienced, religionwise, in the last few months.

Later, he mentioned moving on to the next "scene" in the book. She said she wanted to postpone that one, didn't want to incur the wrath of fate. The look in her eyes kept him from pursuing it at the time.

Later that night, when she was asleep, he picked up the book.

The next sex scene took place right after the heroine told the hero of her pregnancy. Okay, he said, hopefully we'll get back to this one within the year.